hisashiburi
I'm reading Hokkaido Highway Blues, about a fellow who hitchhikes Japan from its southernmost point to its northernmost. That is an interesting enough story on its own, but like any travelogue he takes it upon himself to craft a social commentary as he goes. So far, he's been spot-on with all of his comments. His writing is refreshing and stays away from the tired nostalgia that more aged Nipponophiles like Kerr tend to fall into.
In any case! This last chapter ended with two paragraphs that, if I can succesfully keep floating around in the back of my mind, will make a significant difference next time my travels take me there (which, if all goes well, will be this summer... and for the next x years).
"I still hate the word gaijin and I still hate it when people gawk at me or kids follow, shouting, 'Look, a gaijin! A gaijin!" But I have also learned an important distinction, and one that has made all the difference to my sanity. It was explained to me by Mr. Araki, a high-school teacher I once worked with. 'Gaijin means outsider. But gaijin-san,' he insisted, 'is a term of affection.' Sure enough, once I started paying closer attention to who was saying gaijin and who was saying gaijin-san, I discovered that Mr. Araki was right. Gaijin is a label. Gaijin-san is a role.
In Japan, people are often referred to not by their name but by the role they play. Mr. Policeman. Mr. Post Office. Mr. Shop Owner. As a foreigner, you in turn play your role as the Resident Gaijin, like the Town Drunk or theVillage Idiot. You learn to accept your position, and even take it as an affirmation that you do fit in - albeit it in a very unsettled way - and you begin to enjoy Japan much more."
In any case! This last chapter ended with two paragraphs that, if I can succesfully keep floating around in the back of my mind, will make a significant difference next time my travels take me there (which, if all goes well, will be this summer... and for the next x years).
"I still hate the word gaijin and I still hate it when people gawk at me or kids follow, shouting, 'Look, a gaijin! A gaijin!" But I have also learned an important distinction, and one that has made all the difference to my sanity. It was explained to me by Mr. Araki, a high-school teacher I once worked with. 'Gaijin means outsider. But gaijin-san,' he insisted, 'is a term of affection.' Sure enough, once I started paying closer attention to who was saying gaijin and who was saying gaijin-san, I discovered that Mr. Araki was right. Gaijin is a label. Gaijin-san is a role.
In Japan, people are often referred to not by their name but by the role they play. Mr. Policeman. Mr. Post Office. Mr. Shop Owner. As a foreigner, you in turn play your role as the Resident Gaijin, like the Town Drunk or theVillage Idiot. You learn to accept your position, and even take it as an affirmation that you do fit in - albeit it in a very unsettled way - and you begin to enjoy Japan much more."