Home at last

All good things must come to an end, they say. I"m back in good ol' T.O., very relieved to have the return leg of the trip over with. Door to door was about 24 hours, and after some preliminary web surfing and unpacking, I was fast asleep in bed by 1am.

So, final thoughts? My time in Japan seemed longer that it was. 12 days (10 really) gave me a healthy dose of Japan, at least the Fukuoka parts. My mom comments that this was probably just about right. Not long enough to be a bother, but long enough to want to stay a tad bit longer.

Overall, my experience was of course positive. I went almost 2 solid weeks speaking only Japanese, so my confidence with it, rather than any grammatical or vocabulary improvement, is much higher. I definitely want to live at least a few years there, and at this time, I think most of my energies will be directed in that manner. I think for now, editor's courses are on hold while I consider what my best strategy will be in order to realize my goals. Not really an epiphany or a wake up call, but more of a kick in the ass to get me out of my rut.

My mother's experiences were a little different. I'll go out on a limb and say she enjoyed herself, but she was far more anxious than I to get home. Perhaps because she was born and raised in Japan, perhaps because she feels that her years in Canada makes her unable to live in Japan anymore, but she felt more keenly than I the imposition upon our relatives as they rearranged their lives for 2 weeks.

She also brought up another point. My experiences in Japan, while in some ways unique, in some ways mundane, were entirely the experiences of an outsider, visitor, and guest. In an odd way, I was connected and disconnected from the world that surrounded me, able to move through it and interact with it, but in a sense never fully integrate with it. Making money for my daily bread was never a consideration; only the spending bonanza that comes with vacationing. I was opened to some of the harsher realities of my family ties, but shielded from the society as a whole.

At the risk of sounding philosophical or introspective, I wonder how this clashes with my own preconceptions of my heritage, or my place in a global Japanese community. I was acutely aware, even during my short time there, that I was indeed very much a foreigner. I can only wonder at what the Japanese store employees thought of this odd chimera of Japanese speaker and foreign mannerism. When some cashier fired at me a blur of Japanese point-cardism, I was more often than not left speechless, struggling to understand what I was being told. I must have looked like a moron when I turned helplessly to a relative, who in turn answered for me.

Thus I cannot deny a feeling that my proficiency in Japanese is both a great hinderance as well as an asset. A hinderance because my fluency and lack of obvious accent makes people expect that I am 100% able to operate in that society. I cannot turn to the easy crutch of a foreigner's face or skin-tone, or even accent as a way of indicating that I am not fluent.

The conflict comes then from my own positivist attitude and ability to adapt to my own circumstances. Until I opened my mouth, or failed to react to a question posed, I was for all intents and purposes a normal, if not slightly eccentric, Japanese man. I never felt out of sorts or out of place in Japan. In fact, I felt pretty damn comfortable.

While it may seem at odds with my earlier comments of recognizing my gaijin status in Japan, it isn't. Those of you who know me well might ponder over my seemingly care not to make waves with those around me, my attempts to ensure that people are seated around a table in a manner that ensure no one feels uncomfortable with their neighbours, or any other number of seeming trivialities that I engage in. These mannerisms are not because I am an overly sensitive man, but are rather a product of my being brought up with at least some Japanese values. While I realized that I was a foreigner, I felt comfortable knowing that such mannerisms were normal in Japan. While this is difficult for me to admit, for the first time in my life I was conscious of being part of a culture, rather than just living in one. What, exactly, this means for me in Canada I cannot say, for these are questions I have never really openly contemplated.

Another factor was made evident from what was certainly an off the cuff comment from on my relatives (I don't remember who). They remarked that, were I to come to Japan with obviously foreign friends, and display my ability to converse fluently in both Japanese and English, a listener might be envious of, and a little hostile to, me, thinking "Just who the hell does this guy think he is, showing us all up?" It is not a reaction I can explain on any intellectual level, but one I can understand at a subconsious level.

The conflict, therefore, comes to me in this form: will I be able to succeed in Japan as a foreigner without a foreigner's crutches to fall back onto? My fluency at both the language and the cultural mannerisms are a fragile facade covering a complex, multi-cultural, and ultimately Canadian, personality, yet that person could only be recognized and understood by someone who learned about my situation. My pseudo-Japanese appearance and speech will lead those I interact with to assume that I am in fact Japanese, and when my Canadian-ness asserts itself, they can reach only one of two conclusions. Either I am a grade-A moron, because even the simplest concepts like point-cards or payment plans elude me, or I am a better person than they are because I am more able, because of my fluency in English. Both of these conclusions arise from the fact that there are no obvious signs of gaijin-ness about me. They cannot, I think, re-evaluate their strategy from Japanese-interaction to gaijin-interaction mid-stride without themselves feeling foolish.

Regardless of what comes for me in the future, I can only hope that my positivism will carry me through it. Perhaps, much like at home, I can rely on the friends I make to help me weather the stormy channels of Japanese society. My situation is not unique in itself, as I know of many others who have made the same trek as I am contemplating, but it is unique to me.

Of course, all of this is moot until I graduate :P

This last post was a heavy one, but one I feel is necessary to complete my own personal journey in Fukuoka Japan. I hope that you have enjoyed reading it, for I truly enjoyed writing it. For the time being, this blog is at an end.

At the end of the day, I feels damn good to sleep in a bed again...