Returning JETS- reflections on the conference that inverts and partlty inspires.
This week's Conference for Returning JETS at the swanky Pacifico Yokohama conference centre in Yokohama was a surprisingly emotional affair. Brought together with a gaggle of career-minded, predominantly white and privileged ALTS, and a variety of professional speakers against a well-vocalised backdrop of severe economic downturn, I felt alone in a sea of upheld values with which I disagree (the ideal of endless growth and consumption as a model for the entire world to emulate, the compartmentalisation of national cultures in talks on reverse culture shock, high wages=best, even if you work in development). On the other hand, discussions with friends and their annoyance at my cynical pokes and comments throughout the speeches (Anne Koller- 'NPO work is basically all about administration', Jeremy whatsisface with the wisdom to know what you can and can't change quote, Jezza using a car you really want as a visionary goal to motivate you to work), as well as the crowds that were drawn in for the NPO workshop, made me wonder if my dogmatism is creeping out once more against a more pragmatic, humble current of action in peers who do not let their idealism compromise their action in the world. Or whether dogmatism is a way for others to excuse their own arrogances, which come in the guise merely of an absence of thought and consideration. Chris Leyland kindly pointed out at one point that one can't merely reduce all comparison to a Stupid White Man self-flagellation. While the experience of refugees and migrants may be far more worthy of consideration and debate than the feelings of ALTs returning to friends who may not be interested to hear what they have to say, I accept his point that we should recognise the potential of all people to feel pain. I have myself argued this in my shift towards thinking of 4th world politics and poverty of proximity to wealth, which one can extrapolate to the average inhabitant of a developed country who may be rich but also bulimic, depressed, lonely and whose culture is predicated on unfulfilled desires to sustain the machinery that keep him or her in his place.
The keynote address was by Ian de Stains, exec director of the British Chamber of Commerce. During his sycophantic introduction by the not-very-charming CLAIR rep, I grumbled to Sarah that he was probably a cunt, and felt rather mean when he began his talk with a lengthy list of the ways the world is pretty fucked up, bringing in food shortages, Prince Charles' prediction of immanent climate meltdown (world authority but well meaning, if a fucking state-leeching tosspot who charges a mint for his rather tasty sausages) , inequality and economic dire straits. I was all riled up for a plugging away at these problems and a suggestion that we could find an alternative, but his speech boiled down to a recognition that in global business, change and media savviness and multi-media entrepreneurialism are the only ways to succeed in selling your personal 'brand'. Felt a bit sick at that.
Following that came the pinnacle of my distain at the actually rather harmless Adam CodPhDovski who spoke on 'culture shock'. His opening anecdote made it even easier to work out in the first few minutes whether you like someone or not, usually a matter of interpreting more subtle signs, such as slapping you. He told us that he was with his daughter and Japanese wife yesterday, and the little girl told him 'Daddy, you're my prince and I'm the princess'. 'What does that make mommy then honey?' he replied. 'The breadmaker', she told him. Creepy! I tried for 3 seconds to interpret it more as breadWINNER, the mother as the backbone that sustains the impotent, inbred royal. Too charitable. Horrible man, got audience members to say what they would miss about Japan, which prompted such thought-provoking responses as 'matcha EVERYTHING', 'Onsens- just can't get enough', 'Having everyone worship me', 'dating' and 'getting away with murder by saying 'NO JAPANESE''. Maybe I just take things too seriously and shouldn't expect the profounder findings in what was meant to be a more light-hearted workshop. But I just found it depressing that 'cultural difference' was reduced to artefacts and nationalistic oneupmanship that contained a nasty thread of American superiority- pumped up guys saying that they couldn't wait to get back to 'pizza without corn and mayo on it', fast driving and real competition in sports. I guess with more time we could have had a more valuable discussion about why the Japanese smother bread in mayo, drive slowly and foster a co-operative rather than opponent-beating attitude in more than just sports. But I left the workshop feeling unsatisfied, with no commonality binding me to the other JETS who've had the same chance as I do to be changed by Japan and question the values of our former lives. The guy did make a good point that what we miss about home reflects a person who we USED to be and by embracing the ways we've changed we can prepare for the shock of not finding what we assumed we'd eagerly seek upon returning- friends and family interested in what we've been up to, a recognizable social circle, the excitement of a new perspective on UK like that may well not match findings...anyway, my complaints about 'but think of the refugees! our problems are so superficial' was in reference to that talk, and Chris's reply did make me think I should put things in less of a World Issue comparative context and accept that it's not easy adjusting to life in a foreign nature and that we shouldn't feel bad talking about the problems that may occur upon re-entry.
I've always hated asking questions at conferences and talks, especially after Cambridge, having witnessed the vicious battles of wits and necessity for an audience member to show off his credentials and forge paradigmatic challenges within a single (usually far-too long-winded) 'question' (ahem, statement of deserve). Or maybe I'm just a defensive coward. But I decided to go for it and got into the q-asking mode this time. I asked the Guardian's Japan correspondant Justin McCurry about the experience of being absent from the London office and its experiential culture. Kaori Kumada, some corporate responsibility lightweight, spoke on 'Foreign AID work' with a rather depressing talk on World Bank goals as merely unfulfilled rather than part of the problem. I asked her whether she thought it possible to enter this field by the way she'd mentioned- applying to UN posts and studying a higher degree, without field experience and an understanding of the 'poverty' we claim to be 'fighting', most of the audience having come from a privileged background. She replied that field experience was a good idea but she hadn't had any. Ok. Then I asked about the notion of the 4th World in Japan, having been discussing with Hiroyuki the growing necessity of welfare help in Japan. He'd explained growing homelessness and poverty among the elderly as a product of the shift to a capitalist economy during the 20th century, the result of which has been an increase in inequality as seen all over the world. This leaves difficult questions about the nature of equality as seen in communist regimes and pre-Meiji Japan, where everyone was equally poor under the despotic feudal rulers. But I still wanted to interrogate the assumtions of 'development' as a field ideologically and financially funded by the powerful and wealthy, backed up by a vision of wealth/growth fundamentally good at the top, but need to redistribute more to stop people starving elswehere, rather than a radical requestioning of our ideals for a better world. I actually burst into tears at the end of the talk, feeling that I was alone among the greedy, self-inflated proto-powerhouses that I share a generational tie with.
The week wasn't all bad. I enjoyed exploring Chinatown with Kurt and Kym and Sarah, indulging my own capitalistic desires for pick n mix, couchsurfing with the lovely Alex from the Philippines, meeting Taylor and discussing his Sander-inspired photography project and a debate over the usefulness of the culture/society concept, cider in a Brit pub that also had stout icecream and the chance to sit on a bridge for 2 hours watching huge decrepit port buildings being demolished by giant pincers on cranes.
The keynote address was by Ian de Stains, exec director of the British Chamber of Commerce. During his sycophantic introduction by the not-very-charming CLAIR rep, I grumbled to Sarah that he was probably a cunt, and felt rather mean when he began his talk with a lengthy list of the ways the world is pretty fucked up, bringing in food shortages, Prince Charles' prediction of immanent climate meltdown (world authority but well meaning, if a fucking state-leeching tosspot who charges a mint for his rather tasty sausages) , inequality and economic dire straits. I was all riled up for a plugging away at these problems and a suggestion that we could find an alternative, but his speech boiled down to a recognition that in global business, change and media savviness and multi-media entrepreneurialism are the only ways to succeed in selling your personal 'brand'. Felt a bit sick at that.
Following that came the pinnacle of my distain at the actually rather harmless Adam CodPhDovski who spoke on 'culture shock'. His opening anecdote made it even easier to work out in the first few minutes whether you like someone or not, usually a matter of interpreting more subtle signs, such as slapping you. He told us that he was with his daughter and Japanese wife yesterday, and the little girl told him 'Daddy, you're my prince and I'm the princess'. 'What does that make mommy then honey?' he replied. 'The breadmaker', she told him. Creepy! I tried for 3 seconds to interpret it more as breadWINNER, the mother as the backbone that sustains the impotent, inbred royal. Too charitable. Horrible man, got audience members to say what they would miss about Japan, which prompted such thought-provoking responses as 'matcha EVERYTHING', 'Onsens- just can't get enough', 'Having everyone worship me', 'dating' and 'getting away with murder by saying 'NO JAPANESE''. Maybe I just take things too seriously and shouldn't expect the profounder findings in what was meant to be a more light-hearted workshop. But I just found it depressing that 'cultural difference' was reduced to artefacts and nationalistic oneupmanship that contained a nasty thread of American superiority- pumped up guys saying that they couldn't wait to get back to 'pizza without corn and mayo on it', fast driving and real competition in sports. I guess with more time we could have had a more valuable discussion about why the Japanese smother bread in mayo, drive slowly and foster a co-operative rather than opponent-beating attitude in more than just sports. But I left the workshop feeling unsatisfied, with no commonality binding me to the other JETS who've had the same chance as I do to be changed by Japan and question the values of our former lives. The guy did make a good point that what we miss about home reflects a person who we USED to be and by embracing the ways we've changed we can prepare for the shock of not finding what we assumed we'd eagerly seek upon returning- friends and family interested in what we've been up to, a recognizable social circle, the excitement of a new perspective on UK like that may well not match findings...anyway, my complaints about 'but think of the refugees! our problems are so superficial' was in reference to that talk, and Chris's reply did make me think I should put things in less of a World Issue comparative context and accept that it's not easy adjusting to life in a foreign nature and that we shouldn't feel bad talking about the problems that may occur upon re-entry.
I've always hated asking questions at conferences and talks, especially after Cambridge, having witnessed the vicious battles of wits and necessity for an audience member to show off his credentials and forge paradigmatic challenges within a single (usually far-too long-winded) 'question' (ahem, statement of deserve). Or maybe I'm just a defensive coward. But I decided to go for it and got into the q-asking mode this time. I asked the Guardian's Japan correspondant Justin McCurry about the experience of being absent from the London office and its experiential culture. Kaori Kumada, some corporate responsibility lightweight, spoke on 'Foreign AID work' with a rather depressing talk on World Bank goals as merely unfulfilled rather than part of the problem. I asked her whether she thought it possible to enter this field by the way she'd mentioned- applying to UN posts and studying a higher degree, without field experience and an understanding of the 'poverty' we claim to be 'fighting', most of the audience having come from a privileged background. She replied that field experience was a good idea but she hadn't had any. Ok. Then I asked about the notion of the 4th World in Japan, having been discussing with Hiroyuki the growing necessity of welfare help in Japan. He'd explained growing homelessness and poverty among the elderly as a product of the shift to a capitalist economy during the 20th century, the result of which has been an increase in inequality as seen all over the world. This leaves difficult questions about the nature of equality as seen in communist regimes and pre-Meiji Japan, where everyone was equally poor under the despotic feudal rulers. But I still wanted to interrogate the assumtions of 'development' as a field ideologically and financially funded by the powerful and wealthy, backed up by a vision of wealth/growth fundamentally good at the top, but need to redistribute more to stop people starving elswehere, rather than a radical requestioning of our ideals for a better world. I actually burst into tears at the end of the talk, feeling that I was alone among the greedy, self-inflated proto-powerhouses that I share a generational tie with.
The week wasn't all bad. I enjoyed exploring Chinatown with Kurt and Kym and Sarah, indulging my own capitalistic desires for pick n mix, couchsurfing with the lovely Alex from the Philippines, meeting Taylor and discussing his Sander-inspired photography project and a debate over the usefulness of the culture/society concept, cider in a Brit pub that also had stout icecream and the chance to sit on a bridge for 2 hours watching huge decrepit port buildings being demolished by giant pincers on cranes.