Wednesday, August 06, 2008
Perpetual Party Pooper
In case you're wondering, the answer is No, my new-found mobile phone blogging (a.k.a. "moblogging"*) powers will not mean an end to the Twitter updates. Twitter is fun and random, and it serves as an alternate route of exposure for me and my writing. Moblogging is similarly off-the-cuff, plus I can (and most likely will) include a photo for your amusement, but it is bound to this site and this site alone. So unless one method starts to include proprietary fees, I'm going to use both at my leisure. Please enjoy them, and keep that feedback coming.
Imagine you're at a party. You're new in town and you're not friends with the host or anything, but you scored an invite through legitimate means, you brought the requisite bottle of wine or six-pack of good beer, and you're dancing to the music, sampling the hors d'oeuvres and enjoying yourself despite the scarcity of personal connections to the other partygoers. In short, you're just there to have fun and get to know your new neighbors/co-workers/whatever. Everyone is very friendly and eager to meet you and introduce themselves.
Now try to imagine that the behavior of the other partygoers towards you shows a distinct and disturbing pattern. While you dance, people keep asking you how you came to know this music and whether or not this song is popular in your hometown. People always want to know if you are able to eat the food - that is, if you physically possess the necessary skills to consume and successfully ingest it - and they appear genuinely surprised when you tell them you like it and you've eaten it many times before. And in every conversation you have, people want to know when you plan on leaving the party and going back to where you came from.
Here's the really bad news: every week, all of the guests will do this at every party you attend.
This imaginary party is my less-than-imaginative metaphor for life in Japan. I left out the language issues, which are plentiful, to focus more squarely on the primary difficulty of living in Japan when you are not Japanese. Mainly: you are not Japanese. Japanese people are really stuck on that concept, so when they mentally assess you the first litmus test they apply is to ask themselves "Is this person Japanese?" The second test is probably "Is this person a man or a woman?" but the first question has such massive impact on their attitude and behavior towards you that it even overshadows their infamously rigid views on gender.
This issue is not a new one and I'm sure many, many other people have written entire books about it before. Hell, I'm sure my own past writings on this very site have touched upon this false choice and its equally absurd implications. But after I went out with some co-workers this past weekend I was forced to re-face a few of these tired assumptions that Japanese people make. The questions they ask are relatively benign at this point, because I've heard almost all of them before. What kills me is the fact that I've heard them before from these same people and I know this won't be the last time they ask me either.
For example, our evening began at a Japanese-style restaurant. We have had several get-togethers like this in the past year and our venue of choice is nearly always a Japanese restaurant. Yet when the sashimi arrived this Friday, sure enough, one teacher asked me if I was able to eat raw fish. My answer was a quick "Of course" and I tried to point out how we had eaten raw food as a group many times before in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, she would realize that her question was a stupid one. But between my stumbling over a few key words and the general noise in the room, I don't think she got that point.
It's not like I haven't tried this tactic before when dealing with these bizarre preconceptions. One of the stranger ideas Japanese people have about foreigners is that we do not know how to use chopsticks, so when eating in this country I often receive glowing praise from the natives concerning my ability to properly pick up and eat my lunch. When one teacher decided to congratulate me on eating with chopsticks (again, this is after months of living in Japan), I pointed out that all of the children eating their lunch were using chopsticks, and they were only eight years old. Therefore, since I am much older and have been eating Japanese food since before they were born, there's nothing unusual about my basic grasp of the technique. She looked at me, clearly having understood my words, but showed no hint of understanding my message.
Before anyone says it, I know that no one is intentionally trying to ostracize or insult me. Honestly, the first time someone was impressed by my handling of chopsticks, I felt great because I had deliberately practiced in preparation for my (then) first visit to Japan in 2001 as a tourist. At this point, compliments regarding chopstick use or similarly elementary customs come off as a little condescending. This is magnified by the recidivism from people who should, by now, accept the fact that I live and work in the same country that they do. My in-laws have grasped this, so why can't my co-workers?
America has an abundance of assimilation, immigration and tolerance issues that should not be ignored or downplayed, and I don't want to suggest that people who come to the States don't have to deal with stereotypes and ignorance. However, at the very least, there comes a point where they can expect to integrate themselves into a group or circle of friends who don't insist on treating them like a tourist or a newcomer. Judging by the habits of those around me and the well-documented experiences of other foreigners in Japan, I don't know if I'm ever going to earn that kind of acceptance here. But if it merely manifests itself through repeated banal compliments, then I guess things could be a lot worse.
*Yes, this is the actual term for this method of communication.
Imagine you're at a party. You're new in town and you're not friends with the host or anything, but you scored an invite through legitimate means, you brought the requisite bottle of wine or six-pack of good beer, and you're dancing to the music, sampling the hors d'oeuvres and enjoying yourself despite the scarcity of personal connections to the other partygoers. In short, you're just there to have fun and get to know your new neighbors/co-workers/whatever. Everyone is very friendly and eager to meet you and introduce themselves.
Now try to imagine that the behavior of the other partygoers towards you shows a distinct and disturbing pattern. While you dance, people keep asking you how you came to know this music and whether or not this song is popular in your hometown. People always want to know if you are able to eat the food - that is, if you physically possess the necessary skills to consume and successfully ingest it - and they appear genuinely surprised when you tell them you like it and you've eaten it many times before. And in every conversation you have, people want to know when you plan on leaving the party and going back to where you came from.
Here's the really bad news: every week, all of the guests will do this at every party you attend.
This imaginary party is my less-than-imaginative metaphor for life in Japan. I left out the language issues, which are plentiful, to focus more squarely on the primary difficulty of living in Japan when you are not Japanese. Mainly: you are not Japanese. Japanese people are really stuck on that concept, so when they mentally assess you the first litmus test they apply is to ask themselves "Is this person Japanese?" The second test is probably "Is this person a man or a woman?" but the first question has such massive impact on their attitude and behavior towards you that it even overshadows their infamously rigid views on gender.
This issue is not a new one and I'm sure many, many other people have written entire books about it before. Hell, I'm sure my own past writings on this very site have touched upon this false choice and its equally absurd implications. But after I went out with some co-workers this past weekend I was forced to re-face a few of these tired assumptions that Japanese people make. The questions they ask are relatively benign at this point, because I've heard almost all of them before. What kills me is the fact that I've heard them before from these same people and I know this won't be the last time they ask me either.
For example, our evening began at a Japanese-style restaurant. We have had several get-togethers like this in the past year and our venue of choice is nearly always a Japanese restaurant. Yet when the sashimi arrived this Friday, sure enough, one teacher asked me if I was able to eat raw fish. My answer was a quick "Of course" and I tried to point out how we had eaten raw food as a group many times before in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, she would realize that her question was a stupid one. But between my stumbling over a few key words and the general noise in the room, I don't think she got that point.
It's not like I haven't tried this tactic before when dealing with these bizarre preconceptions. One of the stranger ideas Japanese people have about foreigners is that we do not know how to use chopsticks, so when eating in this country I often receive glowing praise from the natives concerning my ability to properly pick up and eat my lunch. When one teacher decided to congratulate me on eating with chopsticks (again, this is after months of living in Japan), I pointed out that all of the children eating their lunch were using chopsticks, and they were only eight years old. Therefore, since I am much older and have been eating Japanese food since before they were born, there's nothing unusual about my basic grasp of the technique. She looked at me, clearly having understood my words, but showed no hint of understanding my message.
Before anyone says it, I know that no one is intentionally trying to ostracize or insult me. Honestly, the first time someone was impressed by my handling of chopsticks, I felt great because I had deliberately practiced in preparation for my (then) first visit to Japan in 2001 as a tourist. At this point, compliments regarding chopstick use or similarly elementary customs come off as a little condescending. This is magnified by the recidivism from people who should, by now, accept the fact that I live and work in the same country that they do. My in-laws have grasped this, so why can't my co-workers?
America has an abundance of assimilation, immigration and tolerance issues that should not be ignored or downplayed, and I don't want to suggest that people who come to the States don't have to deal with stereotypes and ignorance. However, at the very least, there comes a point where they can expect to integrate themselves into a group or circle of friends who don't insist on treating them like a tourist or a newcomer. Judging by the habits of those around me and the well-documented experiences of other foreigners in Japan, I don't know if I'm ever going to earn that kind of acceptance here. But if it merely manifests itself through repeated banal compliments, then I guess things could be a lot worse.
*Yes, this is the actual term for this method of communication.
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"...I've heard almost all of them before. What kills me is the fact that I've heard them before from these same people and I know this won't be the last time they ask me either."
Disregarding that there is a healthy portion of Japanese pop who can't seem to get over the fact that, no, theirs is not a unique nation or culture that other peoples can't understand or assimilate too...
The best thing I ever read about the whole "wow, you can use chopsticks?" routine [and similar] is that it's simply the Japanese version of small talk. They are trying and want to connect with you in some way, but aren't entirely sure how. Add that in to the language barriers and no, you won't be able to find yourself discussing, say, the relative merits of Zen versus existentialism, so the default is to compliment and express wonder at your meager assimilation abilities.
It's simply the ongoing showing of appreciation for one another in Japan [seriously, how many times in one day must one say "good job, you must be tired, thank you for your work" to the same person? But, that's all the essence of otsukaresama... I digress].
Most Japanese, like most other cultures, abhor silence in social functions, and this is just one way to try and fill it and smooth over the the social awkwardness.
It's like the Japanese version of "What's your sign?", "Did you see the game?" or "Some weather we're having, huh?"
Disregarding that there is a healthy portion of Japanese pop who can't seem to get over the fact that, no, theirs is not a unique nation or culture that other peoples can't understand or assimilate too...
The best thing I ever read about the whole "wow, you can use chopsticks?" routine [and similar] is that it's simply the Japanese version of small talk. They are trying and want to connect with you in some way, but aren't entirely sure how. Add that in to the language barriers and no, you won't be able to find yourself discussing, say, the relative merits of Zen versus existentialism, so the default is to compliment and express wonder at your meager assimilation abilities.
It's simply the ongoing showing of appreciation for one another in Japan [seriously, how many times in one day must one say "good job, you must be tired, thank you for your work" to the same person? But, that's all the essence of otsukaresama... I digress].
Most Japanese, like most other cultures, abhor silence in social functions, and this is just one way to try and fill it and smooth over the the social awkwardness.
It's like the Japanese version of "What's your sign?", "Did you see the game?" or "Some weather we're having, huh?"
And yet they do, literally speaking, have equivalents of those pleasantries you mentioned, except instead of "signs" they're all about blood type. Personally, I'll take silence over nonsense.
I've been writing a longer piece about this idea - what Japanese people think about other people - and I'm trying to keep it amusing and from being some kind of gripe-fest. Because ultimately, this is fairly harmless stuff.
コメントがあります？ Type something, please. It's less work for me.I've been writing a longer piece about this idea - what Japanese people think about other people - and I'm trying to keep it amusing and from being some kind of gripe-fest. Because ultimately, this is fairly harmless stuff.
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