Flashback Japan, 2002 – Today Yumi, one of my adult students, told me about Brett, an American friend of hers who has been “pursuing” her. She wanted to know the English expression for just *knowing* someone is not right for you. “Gut instinct”, I said. “Just a feeling”. I asked her how she knew. She said she knew by the way he sometimes treated others… and even though he was usually polite and kind, there were a couple instances she has seen him be rude.

This past weekend, they were walking her dog in the park, and a group of kids, about 6 or 7 years old, came running up. America-jin da! they exclaimed. (It’s an American!) He told them yes, he was American, then proceeded to ask them if they could understand or speak English. They shook their heads no. Baka, he said. (Stupid.) Yumi said she got very angry with him, that he should never call children stupid, that kids need good examples from adults. She and I agreed that kids remember comments like that for many years, sometimes for life.

After she left, I thought about it some more, and decided that his words to them were multiplied in severity simply because he was a foreigner.

Eating noodles the Japanese way with my dragonboat friend, Chinatsu

It is one of the most difficult aspects of living overseas – everyone is watching, and they remember. When in public here, I am always painfully aware that I am being watched. When I step in the train, when I go into a restaurant, when I walk down the street, when I make a purchase, people look at the way I dress, the way I walk, the way I do my hair, the colour of my hair, the size of my breasts and my butt, the way I bow (or don’t bow), etc. They notice if I smile, and notice if I don’t. If I dare to eat while standing on a sidewalk or while sitting on the subway, they will remember. Maybe they do not conciously check me out, but it registers in their brains… I know it.

Even *I* am completely intrigued by foreigners here, I watch their moves and the way they dress, eat, talk. If I as a foreigner myself am curious, imagine how much moreso the Japanese people. So, I know that if I am kind just one time in public, it will do a lot of good. In my life, I feel I represent “foreigners”. I am also a representative of Canada, and for those here in Japan that do not know I am Canadian, I am just seen as a representative of America. For those that know I am a Christian, I represent Christians. I represent foreign women too. I represent English teachers. I feel such a responsibility to make positive impressions.

I often have friends over to my tiny apartment. We sit and eat on the floor.

In a sense, it is a burden, but also a wonderful challenge and I of course really enjoy giving people a good image of non-Japanese. I need to constantly be aware that malapropos behaviour by foreigners here may be accepted and even forgiven, but rarely forgotten. People base their opinion on North Americans by what they see here. Back home people make irrational judgements about foreigners too, and build their opinions of a whole culture based on what they experience in their own country – Japan is no different.

My business-English students are so much fun.

Tonight at the Academy I noticed an article one of the teachers had gotten from the LA Times and posted on the message board. It also touched on this subject, as well as that of learning to appreciate other cultures. I’ve copied out part of it here:

“That anyone could hate America so much may seem inconceivable, but it is no surprise to people who travel. I often encounter anti-American sentiment on the road, and not just from poor and hopeless people in the Third World. A young Canadian backpacker I met in New Zealand once gave me a dressing-down for the Gulf War, as if I’d ordered the bombardment of Baghdad from my home phone.

More poignant is my memory of a cab driver in Jaipur, India. I had spent the afternoon with him going from one shop to another in search of a bargain on a Rajasthani bedspread. At one point, he turned and asked, “Why do you hate Muslims?” Floored for a moment, I finally replied, “I don’t hate Muslims. I don’t hate anyone. I like you.” Then I showed him the paperback copy of the Koran I had in my bag. I hope he remembers the exchange as clearly as I do.

For me, the encounter underscores how travel can help knit together a hate-torn world. Meeting people from faraway places yields understanding, or at least an appreciation for how different they are, particularly if we approach them with respect.

For this reason, I do whatever I can to dispel the “ugly American” stereotype by dressing and acting modestly when I’m away. I once saw a young tourist wearing a halter top in a Marrakech cafe with her Morrocan guide. Her attire was so disrespectful in that conservative country that I wanted to shriek at her.

We travelers also have the opportunity to see social conditions different from those in the United States close up and experience the zietgeist of foreign countries. I love China, not just for the temples and palaces but because my trip there several years ago made me appreciate why a people ravaged by nearly 50 years of civil war can endure a repressive but stable communist regime.

Travel shakes you up, teaches you things, makes you reasses your assumptions. On the road, I read foreign newspapers whenever I can, because they remind me that not everyone in the world sees things the way Americans do.

Deeper still, travel is humbling. To find in Jordan or China that there are reasons for and ways of living with no reference to mine makes me a little less egocentric. And isn’t egocentrism – or ethnocentrism, on a global scale – at the heart of so much of the misunderstanding that breeds hate?” [by Susan Spano]

When Japanese people see an irascible, drunk or disrespectful foreigner, perhaps it takes five or ten other kind, friendly polite foreigners to make up for that negative reputation. I really do want to help people have a good image of foreigners. It doesn’t mean I have to read their scriptures, always dress up, or slurp when I eat noodles, but it certainly does mean that I can and should go out of my way to be kind, warm and helpful.

On my way home tonight near a busy intersection, I noticed a parked bicycle had fallen down and everyone had to walk around it. I wanted to set it back up, but I didn’t. The other day I wanted to offer my seat to an elderly woman, but I didn’t, because nobody else did, and I didn’t want to draw more attention to myself. How pathetic. Sometimes I do. And sometimes I help a stranger carry a suitcase up a staircase, or return something somebody dropped. But not always.

I tell my students and friends, “You are able to make changes in your own mind and others… if you don’t like the behaviour you see around you, set an example with your own. Start small and make a difference that will eventually snowball.” That advice goes for me too!

The sweetest set of girlfriends ever!

[This was originally written on Monday, January 28, 2002]