I love the granny bicycles with their front-wheel basket in Japan. I made fun as most Westerns might at first, but after about two minutes of seeing how convenient it was, I changed my tune. Mine cost about 60 bucks at a used bike shop and soon I dubbed her “The Gray Ghost.”
However, I’m not a big fan of the curbs over there. They’re not quite as high as the ones in America, but just enough that you can’t comfortably steer your bike from street to sidewalk without a good perpendicular angle. Otherwise, as your tire grazes it, you find your bike wobbling drunkenly until, if you’re not careful, all of a sudden your body is flying through empty air, skidding to a stop across the cement.
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| Ohhhh, that sign! |
Perhaps you’ve already guessed it. Yes, I had the cross fortune to experience this firsthand. When I could disentangle myself from the bloody wreckage, I looked up to see a Japanese man with his son coming down the sidewalk. Then, to my astonishment, never flinching or breaking stride, he walked right on past me staring straight ahead, stoic and indifferent and nary even a gesture of concern.
Another time I was on my way to work and had just came down the stairs of my apartment to find my poor Grey Ghost with a flat tire. At this point, I’d have to run in order to get to work on time. Just then, a fellow passing by stopped and asked me with hand gestures if I needed a bike pump. Since I didn’t know what kind of puncture the tire might have, I indicated my gratitude, but said that it was okay and I would just do without. The
Good Samaritan smiled and waved me good luck. Some time later at the neighborhood convenience store I ran into him again, or rather he stopped me, and, not speaking much English, he inquired mime-like about the condition of my bike. I was genuinely touched.
I use these two stories to illustrate a simple truth: language isn’t essential for friendship. What mattered was simply expressing a friendly attitude.
The point being, why travel 5,000 miles to a new country only to stay in your own home or with people of your own nationality? Or to put it another way, what good would it be to master English, but still have few or no American friends?
Yet, there’s to be expected the customary refrain: “We Japanese are shy.”
But in reality, that’s merely a description, not a justification. Was the man in the first account shy do you think? Was he perhaps intimidated by my mangled form on the pavement? Was it due to my being a Westerner, or simply because I was a stranger to him and thus had no claim to his sense of neighborliness?
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| "If can just... make it to the... Lawson!" |
(For the record, I understand that there are actually specific cultural factors at play here involving un-repayable
giri, face-saving, and the like; my comments are addressed to what I see as the trans-cultural ethics that come across. For a look at similar situation in China, see this
article. And I know these things happen in America too.)
A Japanese friend told me of a black American English teacher in Japan who on the first day of class entered the classroom only to see all the students with cries of
kowaii (scary) stampede out the window, Japanese teacher included. What are we to conclude from these scenarios? That “Japanese are shy”?
By the way, I wouldn’t recommend this as your approach to language study. (
笑)
90% of language learning is attitude (according to the Scientific Study of Getting Better at Language Stuff Journal, vol. ixx). Time and time again, being open and excited about another culture and people is the fuel that I see in those students who shine above the rest. I’m aware of other factors that play into this dynamic, such as
Nihonjinron (theories on the uniqueness of Japanese), the fossilized policies of
Monbusho (the Ministry of Education), grammar-based teaching, and lack of phonics instruction. For our purposes here though, I want to zero in on what I believe is most within the power of individual Japanese to change for themselves: having a broad-minded attitude.
Once in Shikoku I asked the fellow behind the gift shop counter if they had any of such-and-such. His response was a series of apologies as he literally stuttered and shook with trepidation at the idea of having to talk to a foreigner with his less than adequate English. I thought he might very well have a nervous breakdown on the spot. Thinking back, I wish I could have done more to try to convey to the poor guy that it wasn't a big deal and that he didn't need to feel so pressured about his language skills.
Clearly, these reactions stem from something that goes beyond normal shyness or typical island mentality. We’re dealing with a deeply-entrenched mindset due to culturally-regimented blinders, a mindset that consigns anything new or different to the category of
kowaii (scary) or
muzukashii (difficult) – linguistic reflections of a culture that traditionally shuns outside influence and unfamiliar paradigms.
But where did such inhibitions of anxiety come from? Start delving into concepts like
uchi (inside) versus
soto (outside) and
gonin-gumi (five-family group system) and you’re nearer the mark. Established by Tokugawa, who shut in the country with authoritarian rule for the next two hundred and sixty some years,
gonin-gumi was where a lawbreaker or any nonconformist like, say, a Christian found unreported in one family meant the executions of all five families. Not exactly the kind of customs that engender a lot of have-your-say town hall meetings or open-hearted block parties. This systematic grip of suspicion and distrust among individuals and brutal measures for conformity with what the boss says persists today in various subtle forms in everything from societal institutions to everyday interactions.
Don’t believe me? Just think about what happens when you have a group of Japanese co-workers in an everyday situation requiring the use of English and one of them is actually competent in the language. In a flourish of false-humility and indulgent modesty, our fluent fellow will try his hardest to appear like he doesn’t really know much English and that English isn’t that important anyway. Why? In a word: fear. Fear of ostracism or jealousy from the group and their fixation on status.
It’s almost as if for one member to stand out as being competent in English would reflect poorly on the other members, and be at disharmony with their shared values. Thus, someone who is exceptionally good at something in his group risks costing him some of his identity of belonging within the group, and conversely might make his colleagues or neighbors look like idiots. (Which is indeed quite selfless and admirable in trying to maintain harmony, but often can be taken to extremes.)
Okay, yeah, I know, it’s not very nice to talk about such things in polite company. Besides, why bring all that into an article on learning English?
You should know that the last thing I want to do is to bring up negative aspects of Japan or to be critical with certain issues just for the heck of it. I’m acutely aware of how uncouth it is. (And we're not broaching some of the horror stories of physical, verbal, and psychological abuse that occur in classrooms due to authoritarian measures, often resulting in deaths.) Bear in mind the old adage, “Better are the wounds of a friend than the kisses of an enemy."
Remember, these historical concepts we’re discussing are part and parcel of the issue; they have everything to do with language acquisition. I mention them because of their particular relevance to the shaping influences on the mind of Japanese people as they grow into a society that expects them to exhibit the same ideology.
Taking a step back, let’s consider the universal norms we have to go by. One of the first lessons Creator God showed to the people of Israel as a model community was on how to live as a stranger in a strange land and to subsequently be able to emphasize with foreigners once they had a homeland of their own. “When a foreigner resides among you in your land,” God taught the Israelites, “do not mistreat them. The foreigner residing among you must be treated as your native-born. Love them as yourself, for you were foreigners in Egypt. I am the Lord your God” (Leviticus 19:33-34; also Hebrews 13:2).
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| "Hey thanks, fella. If you could just drop me off at the nearest Lawson… Whoa, is that C.C. Lemon?!" |
Of course, Israel wasn’t very good at this concept and continued to be pretty racist and ethnocentric for about two thousand years, (even after Jesus taught the
Parable of the Good Samaritan) until the events leading up to the Council of Jerusalem around A.D. 50. All the same, this ethic, within the greater Judeo-Christian narrative, has been a part of the consciousness of Western culture for thousands of years. In modern times, fragmenting movements such as urbanization certainly have to be taken into consideration. For example, we talk about Southern hospitality in America, and especially in Texas (which means “friend”), as if it were a universal value, but believe it or not even some Southerners can be somewhat cold sometimes (though I suspect these are mostly out-of-towners and carpet-baggers).
Nevertheless, whether you’re Oriental or Occidental, having the courage to greet or reach out to a stranger, instead of walking to the other side of the street to avoid him, involves running against the grain of all kinds of cultural inhibitions. Once you can muster the effort to take a long, hard, critical look at the presuppositions of the cultural worldview you’ve been swimming in and once the sources of these unquestioned restrictions have been exposed, then you can begin to ‘put yourself in others’ shoes’ to perceive people from their point-of-view. Slowly but surely one’s mindset and attitude begins to change.
And once we’ve done that, it’s no jump at all to be able to sympathize and even empathize with others, to demonstrate hospitality, or even just to cross the street to see if we can’t be of help to that person looking askance as a street map. The more freedom we’ve experienced in befriending others, the more outflow of love we’ll have to share. To wrest a couple verses out of context, “Be not conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind” and “perfect love casts out all fear.” Certainly, it was perfect love that filled those valiant Japanese men, women, and children who would rather choose torture and crucifixion over conforming to the prejudices of the day.
As one Japanese friend commented recently, Japanese are allergic even to the idea of Christianity simply because they perceive it as foreign or un-Japanese. But once they actually read the Bible or meet Christians, as he did for the past few years, that stigma begins to drop off. I believe it’s the same with making cross-cultural friends.
One of the saving graces of my own experience teaching at an English school in Japan came by way of a handful of some of the sweetest and most generous
obaachan (older ladies) one could hope for. They were very much my second family, with the kind of rapport I could never quite build with my other, younger students, and I will always be most lovingly in their debt because of it.
Some basic suggestions then for you, my English-learning friend, in developing an open-minded attitude towards friendship:
–Read up on American culture and find out why they do what they do and say what they say. While you’re at it, read up on your own culture and history and how Confucianism, Buddhism, etc. have affected society, family structures, and worldview. I’ve known a few Westerners in Japan who never bothered to do a little reading to find out the reasons behind why the culture is the way it is and therefore they were easily offended by things they were ignorant of. This will help you develop patience and to cut people some slack. It was Confucius, by the way, who said, "Gentlemen are in harmony without conforming; petty men echo each other without being in harmony."
–Realize also that according to American communication styles, they feel the need for continual feedback; they don’t feel comfortable with the periods of silence usually typical of Japanese conversations.
–They often prefer sarcasm in their humor. Practice it enough and see if you can’t get the hang of it. I’m sure I was quite generous in inserting sarcasm in this article.
–Many of them appreciate hugs; learn how to return one properly (hint: keep your hands well above the waistline).
–Along those lines, they dislike formality among friends – it connotes distance. Try to limit your thank-yous and apologies to a minimum. They’re not to be treated like customers or business associates, but as casual, even intimate friends.
–Finally, if someone happens to take a nosedive over his handlebars and eat gravel in front of your path, go ahead and offer him a perfunctory ‘Are-you-okay?’ – if you do, I’m sure it'll just make his day and the two of you will probably become fast friends in no time.
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| "I should've smashed my face into the concrete years ago!" |
