One Month Anniversary (feat. piccies)

I have managed to survive over 30 days in a foreign land!

This month has flown by in a rush of novelty and confusion. I have exhausted myself hiking up to temples, getting lost in the countryside, surveying flea markets, dipping into the sea, drinking plum wine, attending both a moon and a fire festival, enduring a typhoon, playing with very sweet kids, eating all the snacks, learning 2 new alphabets and working out where the flush button resides on those pesky electric toilets. (Answer: usually just a manual lever at the back. Nothing fancy.) For me, the 30-day milestone also marks a change, I no longer feel as if I am on holiday.

When us exchange students first arrived in Japan, we were given an introductory lecture on culture shock, something along the lines of: You love this country right now, don’t you? We excitedly nodded, everything was new and endlessly fascinating every time we walked out the door. Look at that whole aisle of soy sauce! A Buddhist monk! A Shiba Inu! We were warned this overwhelming sense of wonderment at everything bizarre and beautiful would wane, the “honeymoon period” does not last forever. At that point, we would have to brace ourselves.

Perhaps culture shock is a universal experience. Long-term travellers, immigrants and expats everywhere must feel the friction of transitioning away from being a tourist to something else. I’m not sure what we become yet. I’m currently a resident of Japan but of course, I am not Japanese. Throughout the year I am going to have to get used to being more permanently foreign, being an outsider and not a visitor. This feeling is magnified by the language barrier and my obvious Western appearance.

There have been times when I question whether I even want to integrate. For example, do I want to resign my vegetarianism? Do I want to cover up my body? Do I ask the man-spreader on the subway to scooch up an inch? This more personal aspect of culture shock occurs when parts of your individual identity are challenged by another society’s values. I found it surprising how quickly you can feel the pressure of another culture’s norms, how embarrassed you can feel for being different. I think me and my friends have been trying our best not to offend or make others uncomfortable, which is completely courteous but also strange to me. I am used to being quite defiant of societal expectations at home.

However, Japan and I are not at odds, there are so many aspects of Japanese culture that I find deeply charming. For instance, the stereotype of Japanese politeness often rings true. When I initially arrived, I struggled from the airport with all my luggage yet various commuters and even a cleaner helped me with the load. I also got chatting with a friendly waitress the other day, as I left the café she gave me a slice of freshly baked cake on the house, ‘as it was nice to meet you’! I also cherish the constant exchange of pleasantries (ohayou gozaimasu to you too sir). If I had to compare British and Japanese manners, I would say that the former are polite at a distance, whereas the latter seem genuinely kind. It’s these occurrences as well as the relative ease of life in Japan that has made slipping into a routine here painless (bar the bureaucratic processes; what’s up with that Japan?!).

I want to remind myself that simultaneously living here and being an outsider doesn’t have to be a point of disconnection, it is, in fact, a perfect opportunity to be as curious as possible. Perhaps I do know where I stand, a prime observation spot.