As, I sit here drinking my Assam Black Tea Latte, at our local kissaten, I think to myself- Coffee, it’s common language, right? Everyone drinks it, but how is it that I can be drinking the same drink not longer than a week ago in Canada and be doing the same today. Not to mention, it still fascinated me that I can wake up off a 12-hour flight and end up in Japan.
Throughout the week I have various extra-curricular activities, including the likes of practicing Aikido, Shodo (Japanese calligraphy), an English club and in my free time I’ve taken to hiking. But the activity I look forward to the most, by far, is Japanese class. Unlike many, I don’t go to Japanese class to learn grammar or vocabulary, although that is the perk of learning a language, but what keeps me coming to class are the conversations that my teacher and I share. Now, this man is significantly older than me, and even though I sometimes feel like an overworked Japanese still working at the age of 72, I feel our conversations are genuine and without a doubt intriguing.
This past Sunday I had class and took note throughout my teacher’s speech (wait not speech… plug). I enquired about Japanese New Years, and had no idea the conversation would flow into what came to be a very direct suggestion that I work to bind cultures together and learn from them while also maintaining strong ties to my own. He spoke highly of how Japanese have lost their identity, which has been drained out by the influence of American culture. Japanese are being influenced yearly by American culture, losing their own to the likes of fast food, consumerism and Hollywood. You’d think they would have learned English along the way as well, right?
He spoke with valour and grace, which intrigued me to a level I have not felt before from this man. He, a well-traveled 72-year old man, just got back from India and France has so much insight. I swear he must be part of the yakuza, or just bored of life. But what he does when he travels is what we should all consider when travelling. When you bust through the doors of a Starbucks in Korea, or England, at least learn how to say please and thank you. Or when travelling through Europe on that graduation trip with your friends, or brother, learn the four ways to say exit in English, German, Italian and French. Exit, Ausgang, Uscita and Sortie…somehow I still remember.
What I’m saying is that we should take every opportunity to listen, look around ourselves, ask questions and be opinionated about everything. How do the Japanese take their coffee? Is it the same as the Italians, strong and short, or the Vietnamese with their strong sweet flavour? The pleasant Japanese women sitting next to me on my flight from Toronto to Tokyo stated that if I were to have any questions I shouldn’t hesitate to ask. Questions? What questions would I possibly have? I’m living in Japan, aren’t I, I should be able to figure it out on my own. But it’s more than obvious that I don’t know everything about Japan and these people want to teach me everything there is for me to know. Although many people may seem shocked to see us and always take note, or quite the opposite feeling in the teachers’ room at school, but I do not doubt for a second that they believe we don’t have all that it takes to be living here in Japan, culturally. Take note, I’m not suggesting assimilation.
On that note, I enquired to a close friend of mine, as per the reasons why Japanese haven’t established a neighbourhood to call their own in Toronto. With neighbourhoods such as Chinatown, Greektown, Little Italy… (I could go on lengths), that seem to thrive, why does there not exist a Japan town? It’s because when living abroad the Japanese are very good at assimilating themselves within the broader culture. And those words I believe. Maybe they’re more excited to be drinking a double-double coffee than they are trying to get the best Maguro.
I think sometimes we get too caught up with ourselves that we forget one of the reasons why we, all of us, exist within Fukui. It almost seems like a thrill to be here one day, and then a drag the next. I may sound like a broken tape-recorder reiterating this, but I agree with the likes of our friends, teachers, and the staff of the Board of Education. We are ambassadors of our countries. We can teach others how we drink our coffee. But at the same time, we should understand how they take their coffee, too. Black. No sugar.
PS: I learned that the hard way, as I sat around a table with Japanese academics and being the only one offered sugar and milk. It’s a stereotype they have, but what a blessing.
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