Wednesday, March 9, 2011

I Think I'll Never Turn Japanese

I consider my time here in Japan a big success. I'm learning more and more about the Japanese language and culture every day, and I've come to a level that I can confidently call "fluent in Japanese". My grammar is strong, and as long as the topic isn't Japanese politics or a complex technical one like "Grooves on a Metal Substrate", I'm quite capable. But every once in a while, I have a moment were I realize that there's so much more to a communication than just speaking the language.

Recently, I spent a couple class periods at one of my schools helping a couple kids prepare for a debate about the necessity of cell phones for junior high school students. I spent a good chunk of time with one of the kids coaching him on pronunciation and trying to get him to understand possible objections to his points. When it came time to hold the debate, he got really nervous and couldn't remember what he was supposed to say. I tried to give him hints, but he wasn't even willing to mimic my words. Frustrated with the knowledge that he really could say what he wanted to say, but was too afraid to make a mistake, I grimaced visibly. I encouraged him to use what we had prepared, and told him not to worry, since there were only 4 people present--him, another student, and two English teachers. He tensed up and shook nervously, unable to produce a single sound. Then the dam broke.

I sat, stunned, as he clenched his fist and repeatedly bashed himself in the side of the head. The other teacher eventually asked him to stop, which he did, and then calmly continued with the debate as if nothing had happened.

It's certainly not my fault that the kid punched himself. I don't know what examples or other influences this kid has in his life, or what kind of personal issues he deals with. I do know, however, that less pressure on the kid to perform and better control of my facial expressions could have possibly prevented the outburst. Japanese kids often seem to expect perfection of themselves, to the degree that they won't speak if they're not 100% positive that they're right. But in classes with fewer than 5 students, the same kids are forced to answer, whether or not they're confident. That must cause a mighty mental struggle for some of them. English class often compounds the problem by demanding that the students instantaneously adapt western behavior even though a different kind of behavior has been drilled into them from a young age. Perhaps if I had been a bit more sensitive to all these factors, things might have gone differently.

Before I came to Japan, I dreamed about going out and working with the missionaries out here. I figured it would help my Japanese and give me opportunities to serve. Unfortunately, it just never worked out. At first, when there were elders here, I lived on the island, too far away to really do anything. When I finally moved to the mainland, the elders were transferred out and they brought sisters in instead. After few months ago, the elders came back--but I've been too busy to get anything done. Yesterday, I finally had a chance to go out with the missionaries and do some work.

It's interesting working with young missionaries after having served a mission of your own--you feel a sense of inferiority, since they have the responsibility to serve and are much more dedicated to missionary work, and are likely much more sensitive to spiritual things. However, they haven't yet learned all the tricks that you learned back when you wandered around in a shirt and tie. They haven't learned how to be bold and confident, and certainly don't have all the life experiences that you get post-mission.

One of the missionaries is a 20 year-old from Utah who's having a hard time learning the language. The other is a 24 year-old from Japan. While both are very friendly, they both seemed a bit timid (I'd imagine that it was a combination of timidness and Japanese politeness). I came away feeling like they needed to trust their message more--if they believe it to be true, they should be willing to be bold in teaching it. My church Japanese isn't nearly as strong as I'd like, but I definitely have the confidence to say what I feel to people. Perhaps that came from serving a mission in a place where most people share similar beliefs. Maybe my way was too bold for some Japanese people. I'd guess that there needs to be some kind of balance between good ol' Japanese politeness and western boldness.

My experience knocking doors yesterday was a bit different than it was for me in Guatemala. Here, people are a lot quicker to shut the door in your face without needing a reason for doing so. A lot of people said they were too busy or not interested. Some people just said they were sorry and shut the door. Most people didn't even open the door, as they have these little intercom boxes with cameras on them that let them filter out any salespeople or Mormons. One old lady just said, "Chigaimasu," which literally means that something is "different" or "incorrect", but can be interpreted in many ways. I imagine that she was basically saying "Nah, I don't want to deal with you guys," but it came across as, "Sorry, you've got the wrong house." After she shut the door on us, I jokingly asked the missionaries what was incorrect--it certainly wasn't our message. The Utah missionary kindly reminded me that I have to be careful of what I say, as the walls are pretty thin out here. Apparently, he once got chewed out by an old man for making the same exact comment after getting rejected with "chigaimasu". It's considered very rude to question your elders out here, especially when they can hear you.

I admit, I was a bit embarrassed. I'm well aware that living with Americans out here doesn't always allow me to know what's culturally taboo. That's one of the reasons why I always hoped to spend a little time with the missionaries. A Japanese coworker will almost never be bold enough to tell you that what you've been doing for months actually annoys the living heck out of them. An American missionary, however, will likely have been corrected by his companions, and will thus offer a wealth of knowledge of Japanese etiquette.

On the subject of Japanese coworkers and embarrassment--the other day, a teacher approached me to collect money for school lunch (kyushoku). She mentioned that I couldn't make any changes in the month of March, and that I needed to pay beforehand. Typically, I pay after the month has ended, since I don't know what kind of schedule changes I might have. For example, I might have to go to Tokyo for a meeting, or take a sick kid to the hospital. I mentioned that I have never had any problems paying after-the-fact before, and asked if something had changed. Paying for kyushoku in advance is not a huge deal, but I wanted to know if it was a one-time thing, or if I'd never be able to make changes to my lunch schedule ever again. When I asked the teacher for an explanation, she started talking to me in broken English. When I told her that it was OK to speak Japanese to me, her face went red, and she replied that it wasn't her job to deal with such questions, and that I'd have to take it up with the vice principal. She mentioned that it said in a letter somewhere that I wouldn't be able to make any changes, but I didn't get to actually read the letter to see what it said.

We walked over to the vice principal, and the teacher started by saying, in Japanese, "It appears that he can't comprehend what I'm trying to tell him." I explained that I was merely trying to understand if it was just March, or every month in the future, that I couldn't make changes. The vice principal explained that it was just March, and I went back to my desk, semi-satisfied with the explanation. While pondering how something so simple could get so uncomfortable for everyone so quickly, I realized that the reason they couldn't make changes was likely that March is the end of the school year, and balances need to be settled before job transfers, which happen April 1st.

Such an explanation, while so simple, is not something that a typical Japanese worker would ask for. When someone comes to collect, you pay without asking questions. Even if they were to make changes to the schedule, they would likely pay, regardless of whether or not they missed any meals. It's just the way they do things here. It's embarrassing when you don't know something that seems crystal clear to everyone else.

While I've actually become quite good at acting like a Japanese at work, I'm sure that there are many things that I'll never learn. It's easy to get discouraged about not becoming entirely Japanese; I will likely never get to a point where I do nothing that offends anyone. In the end, however, is that really such a bad thing? I will always identify with my mother culture more than any other--any time I analyze Japanese or other world cultures, it's through the lens of an American--and I don't think that's anything to be ashamed of. Most Japanese people will be viewing me through their own Japanese lens.

The more Japanese I act, the more people expect from me. Not that that's necessarily a bad thing--people just tend not to realize that I don't always know the Japanese way to do something, since I haven't given them cause to believe that in the past. While I know that I'll never quite be able to forget that I'm an outsider out here, I do admit that my coworkers have been wonderful about making me feel respected. In my mind, respect for each other, regardless of cultural differences, is a much more attainable and desirable goal than full assimilation into another culture.

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