分からんではない。たぶん。

wakaran dewanai. tabun.
"They don't not understand!  Probably."

The above phrase has a funny story behind it.  First, let me say that it sounds just as odd in Japanese as it does in English (being a double negative).  Anyhow, on Monday, I went with my German buddy to get yaki-niku （焼肉, grill-it-yourself meat） for dinner at a very "neighborhood" sort of place.  We go in, I say there are two of us, we get shown to our table, we get the menus, and the waitress explains to us how the ordering system works at the restaurant.  It's very familiar, like most any other yaki-niku place.  I listen attentively as she politely carries out her duty, wondering whether she supposes I can understand her, wanting her to trust that I do (truthfully, I understand about 85% of her instructions).  When finished, she leaves the table, and I happen to catch what she says to her co-worker.
"They don't not understand! Probably."
Needless to say, I thought this was hilarious.  I've been waiting the entire year to overhear someone say something like that here, and it finally happened.


Anyway.
It's my last Sunday in Kanazawa, and today I've spent a lot of time packing up my stuff.  I can't believe that this year is basically over now.  Is it just me, or are the days just going by faster than they used to?  It seems like this year has been so fast.  I've done a lot of amazing things this year, gotten to know some fantastic people, had many wonderful experiences, and I can speak conversational Japanese now (it's better than my Russian for sure now).  Packing up my room is a lonely experience, but seeing all of the souvenirs and everything I've accumulated over the year reminds me of what an awesome year I've had here, and it makes me all the more certain that I'll come back.

This fall, I'm signed up for advanced Japanese and advanced Russian at Tufts, as well as a senior thesis seminar.  I'll be busy and plan to study a good deal and keep up my language skills, but I want more than anything else to just have an awesome fun year.  Then next summer I plan to spend some time in Europe.  After that, I may go back to Japan or work on board a Sailing School Vessel or similar occupation.  Thinking that far ahead in the future is problematic at best, but it's good to have goals.  There are still so many things I want to do in the world, and I want to take advantage of the opportunities available to me while I still can.

I also feel that I've grown up a lot in the past year, certainly in the past year and a half.  The time since New Year 2009 has meant massive changes for me, and a lot of growing up.  I look older, too.  It's a strange proposition, growing older.  Maybe I've grown a bit less sentimental, but perhaps it's in a positive way.  I'm still sensitive to things like that, but the days have been going by faster recently.  I have some more specific ideas about what I might want to "do" with my life, but it's also possible to say that I still don't really know--so I keep learning, keep traveling, and keep dreaming.  If I ever lose that sentimental wonder, I won't be me anymore.


(News stuff)
Want to see an example of truly abysmally horrid news reporting?  Click here.  (I wrote a very stern email to the author of the article.  As expected, no response.)


I had saved the links below a while ago, all of which concern some serious issues in contemporary Japan concerning the "foreigner" population.  They may or may not be interesting.
http://soldave.ismysite.co.uk/biginjapan/okinawan-protest-draws-far-fewer-than-quoted-by-media
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/05/08/business/global/08kyoto.html?pagewanted=2&src=busln
http://www.yomiuri.co.jp/dy/features/arts/20100514TDY12T04.htm
http://www.debito.org/?p=4136
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/disgrasian/the-mcdonalds-mr-james-ad_b_269692.html
http://search.japantimes.co.jp/cgi-bin/fl20090901ad.html
http://www.time.com/time/world/article/0,8599,1918246,00.html


Here are some pictures from the past month or so, leading up to last night. (Not in order.)  For now, I'll let them speak for themselves.

デーブ・スペクター

Dave Spector

Dave Spector is a Chicago-born Jewish-American TV personality who has been living and working in Japan since the mid-80s.  He's a regular figure several on Japanese TV programs, commenting usually on "foreign" news, though recently also occasionally on Japanese news as well.  Being a blond, white, American foreigner, he's rather a recognizable figure and household name.

 So what's the deal with Dave?


He's one of the most successful and certainly one of the more recognizable foreigners in Japan, that's what.  Still, to foreigners (i.e., Americans) living in Japan, he can seem very strange.  To me, up until I actually read about him and his career, I had seen him several times on TV here and thought him rather annoying.  True, I must admit I felt somewhat envious of his clear success with Japanese life (his Japanese is known to be perfect), but if you watch him then perhaps he might occasionally come off as a sort of stereotype of foreigners.  The thing is, he's got to be one of the top ten most prominent non-Asians on Japanese TV, so his presence also carries a lot of weight.  According to this  Japan Times article, part of his success stems from his ability to digest great amounts of information from the English-speaking world and then relate it to his Japanese audience--especially since, as the JT article claims (and in my experience, I consider it to be more or less true), Japanese news coverage of "foreign issues" tends to occasionally be somewhat lacking in detail or in-depth analysis.  That certainly seems to be the stereotype, and on a couple of occasions I have felt bemused at the style, angle, or amount of news coverage on certain topics while living here in Japan.

That said, why is Dave Spector one of the most reliable of the gaijin talent?  How has he done it?  It's another stereotype (that the JT article touches on) that Japanese people can be wary of or hesitant toward foreigners, whether for language difficulties, cultural differences, or mere stereotype.  The Dave Spector Wikipedia page talks about this idea, and how he responded to it with The Panda Approach.

 The Panda Method

This so-callaed Panda Method is the idea that something that you always hear about but may not know so well personally is much more approachable if you meet it in a controlled environment and it's doing something silly.  That way, you won't feel intimidated, and whatever reservations you have had about the meeting will melt away.  Take a panda for example: they're really wild animals that live in bamboo forests in China, but if you see one in your local zoo running around playfully or munching one of those bamboo shoots in utter cuteness, they don't seem so wild and in fact appear quite cuddly.  With this idea and an intuitive understanding and proclivity toward supporting the American value to stand up for oneself, Dave started out his career with bit parts on TV and worked his way up, doing silly stuff, acting like the hapless foreigner he wasn't (though of course, he appeared to be), all while gradually becoming, as it were, a part of the furniture.  As a foreigner who had grown up with American values combined with a mastery of the language (all three qualities being predictably unexpected), he played the non-threatening part that the culture suggested he play--while at the same time being in command of his career. The net result of this is that he has created his own quite comfortable place that previously was simply absent in the culture.  Furthermore, over the years, he has made the culture work for him, and he's gone from being the silly panda to gaining trust and playing more and more serious roles.

I can relate to a lot of these ideas, also being an American who is living in Japan.  Locals constantly seem impressed by my developing mastery of the language, and I find that people relax quite a bit around me if I act a little silly, which fortunately as far as I'm concerned is my nature.  Moreover, once people see that I can communicate with them in their language, the whole communication process gets a lot easier.  Still, built into Japanese language and culture is a certain "wall" of distance between people that can sometimes seem quite fuzzy.  That wall is inherent to the language, and it depends on the degree of closeness with the person in large part, which also has something to do with age and relative status.  It's not as concrete as you may read about and is certainly more complicated than a textbook will tell you, but broadly speaking, it's true.

When the wall breaks down, people become closer.  American values tend to stress openness, standing up for personal rights and beliefs, and various freedoms.  In Japan, things tend to be different.  A university student's life, for example, is dominated by one or two "student circles" of which one may be a member.  But these aren't your weekend Frisbee clubs or Tuesday-Thursday choir practices.  They also have nothing to do at all with any teachers.  Students tend to have fewer (yet more serious) hobbies, and friends tend to be almost exclusively one's clubmates rather than mostly those who live in the same building.  They're serious, and they meet often, commonly going to dinner together after meetings or having parties as many as several times per month.  I've joined two circles this semester, "XXTRA" (live rock band jam/practice/performance circle) and "Melo Melo" (a cappella circle), and so far it's been a fantastic way to get to know Japanese students, practice the language, and to really feel like I'm experiencing the culture in-depth.  Besides that, it's great practice for my music, something I've missed for too long.

The Other Side of the Wall

There's a new movie coming out in Japan called 「ダーリングは外国人」(My Darling is a Foreigner) that looks at some of these cultural differences from the Japanese perspective.  The movie, based on a manga of the same name, focuses on the relationship between a Japanese woman (Saori) and an American guy (Tony) living in Japan, and various issues that arise over the course of it.  Over the course of these events, various stereotypes are addressed.  However, the manner of addressing these stereotypes is also distinctly Japanese.  The concept of racism as it exists in the States just does not exist in Japan, and stereotyping happens all the time, even stereotyping of their own culture.  In fact, on more than one occasion I have found Japanese people to be surprised at the fact that rice is quite common in America, let alone the fact that Los Angeles is famous for its glut of sushi restaurants.  That's not to say it doesn't happen elsewhere too--in any country in the world, most people don't get the chance to travel, and there's no place like home, right?

On the subject of stereotypes, I read a memorable story in my compendium of Traveler's Tales: Japan that related the experience of a mostly black jazz band from New York City who arrived in Tokyo for a week of performances to find the place set with watermelon.  In America, this action would be questionable at best and could even be called racist.

(From "Department Store Panic" by Jim Leff)

     On the surface, Tokyo seems much like any other big city.  It's easy for a Western visitor to fit comfortably into its familiar urban facade, only rarely glimpsing the breathtaking exoticness that lurks just beneath the surface.

     Notice the mowhawked, body-pierced Japanese youth coming toward you on the Shinjuku sidewalk.  You've seen punkers before; he's hardly worth a second glance.  But watch as he bows to an elderly stranger out of respect for her age.

     You're not in Kansas anymore.

     I was there to perform with a mostly black jazz band, and was appalled when the promoter's welcoming party featured a table full of cut-up watermelon.  I was more horrified still--for different reasons--when I learned that off-season watermelons in Japan run a cool $100 per.  So...it was more an ostentatious show of respect than adherence to a stereotype.  Or was it?

     It's nearly impossible to say; East/West cultural correlations are slippery, and sometimes the more you probe and analyze, the less you understand. 

 I can even corroborate the bit about the watermelon.  I recently saw a cantaloupe for sale at the local supermarket--about a third the size of a normal American one--for about ¥2800, the equivalent of about $31.  For one melon.

The more international experience I gain (I have no love of the word "foreign"), the more I come to see how these stereotypes and cultural peculiarities differ.  So far it's been fascinating, and it's certainly a great education for whatever I end up "doing" in life.  I've signed up for classes this fall at Tufts, and that includes my plan to write a senior thesis, concerning something about international culture.  We'll see where that may lead.  Maybe I could become the next Dave Spector...

 Kanazawa University Foreign Students - Asano River Cherry Blossom Viewing Party
(金沢大学留学生　浅川花見）
( April 10, 2010 )

The Foreigner

When I studied in Russia this summer, even the very first day I was there, people on the street assumed that I would understand them. On my last night in Russia after two months of intense study, I was mistaken for a local. All the time, people said to me that I "looked Russian" even though to my knowledge no one on any side of my family has lived in Russia for the past 5 generations at least. The language was difficult and I experienced a lot of culture shock in various ways, but I got through it and had a very beneficial experience overall. And really, while it was the reason my Russian improved so quickly, it was being forced into the language and culture how intensely as I was that made it so difficult. It was tough yet rewarding to be assumed to be "in."


And here's what Wikipedia has to say, with a citation:

/ / / / / /

For English speakers

Diplomats and defense language training gives some interesting data [regarding the most difficult languages to learn], although it covers only a limited selection of major national languages:

• The Foreign Service Institute (FSI) of the US Department of State has compiled approximate learning expectations for a number of languages. Of the 63 languages analyzed, the five most difficult languages to reach proficiency in speaking and proficiency in reading (for native English speakers who already know other languages), requiring 88 weeks, are: "Arabic, Cantonese, Mandarin, Japanese, Korean", with Japanese being the most difficult.^[2]

/ / / / / /


The program here in Japan has been much more relaxed in that way, and the culture of the International House is much more like what I'm used to than what actual Japanese culture seems to be, though still occasionally it gets to me. Japanese is extremely difficult. I'm learning to appreciate the sheer complexity of the construction of language itself in general, but there's something different about Japan. Even had I been born here and gone to Japanese school, I would still be in a different category because I look different. And now, after nearly four months (has it really been that long??), I've certainly gotten better, but I still can't understand most conversations any more than what the topic at hand is. It's frustrating. And it's true, Japanese culture is very different. If anyone ever said that culture is a mere illusion, that person was wrong; no matter what, I'll be assumed to be "out" in some ways even if I live here the rest of my life.

Still, there are some practical benefits to being a foreigner in Japan, though to be honest it's really the first time in my life I've hit a wall that seems at least in some ways truly impenetrable. Growing up in LA as a middle class white male going to high-powered schools certainly gave me an advantage, and I never knew the kinds of limitations I would hear about in history class--and so I learned to believe that they were all illusions, that they were false, that anyone can really do anything if they have the right interest. Likewise I never understood my privilege. American culture loves the underdog, the success story, the unlikely winner--so Americans are taught that we can do anything. We're taught that every person is unique and special, and that we need those ideas to have self-esteem and be happy people. So much so that real limitations are looked down upon or swept under the rug--for example, when Obama was elected, there were some who declared America a "post-racial society," a supposition that is simply wrong. Some people who are lobbying against healthcare reform seem keen to overlook the real hardships faced every day by millions of people who can hardly (or not at all) afford healthcare. I was always taught that everything was possible, even to the extent that I sort of thought of myself as a "victim of the liberal arts" in that I felt overwhelmed by opportunity, spread out, and distracted all the time--so much that I desperately wanted just to focus. I turned to foreign language and culture to find some of that meaning and focus that I so desperately felt I needed. The fact remains that there are a number of people in America who are not too fond of immigrants, and feel that everyone coming to America should already be able to speak English. And maybe that's not so bizarre to understand; dealing with different cultures is exhausting work, and to not be able to understand or communicate is stressful, even frightening. People fear the "other."

Maybe that's why I stay with this kind of stuff. American culture is full of a desire for instant gratification, a one-hit wonder, results as fast as possible. Infomercials sell 5-minute ab-packs. Conan was kicked off The Tonight Show after only 7 months. If a band is so lucky to get signed by a label, they will likely have a contract that requires success within a certain time frame. I used to think that I would eventually find some sort of occupation someday that would just immediately be easy--I'd just be able to do it, and I'd love it, and that would be it. But I've come slowly and painfully to realize that life just doesn't work like that--it's a series of slow processes, and it just so happens that learning Japanese is one of the slowest. I want to have real values, and I don't want to slip something "other" under the rug.

Last night I bought dried squid at the convenience store down the street. I would never have done that, even three months ago, but last night I ate it and loved it. And tonight at bowling, even though I had a hard time understanding a lot of the Japanese, I learned some new words. And for each of the four games of bowling we did, my score improved every time. That's progress. That's real. That's what I'm doing here.

Lots of stuff

Fountain "Samson" at Peterhof (click for more info). You're right if you think it looks a bit like Versailles or one of the châteaux in France--it was modeled in the French style. It was a vastly gorgeous place, and I'd say the trip there was the most enjoyable part of Russia so far.

Video from the Birthright Israel Mega-Event
(It looks like it'll only work on Windows, unfortunately)

Perhaps "the song" of the Israel trip. It's about peace. It's sung in Hebrew, but the title is the Arabic word for Peace.

Recommended Viewing
(They own everything in Russia. Everything.)


The culture shock hit me on Thursday, and it seems like every time I try to sit down and write about it, I'm either running out of battery, running out of time, or running out of Internet.
By my current plan, I'll still be out of America for another eight weeks (it's been more than three already), and that's a hell of a lot longer than I've ever been in a different culture before. Every day I get better at Russian and learn more about this city and its culture, but I really am an outsider here. It seems this is part of the culture shock that was to be expected. It's more complicated than any one simple thing. I've realized how terribly, vastly important it is to get sleep, but more than that, at this point I've passed the point of time that was the longest I was away from America previously, but even then then it was in an English-speaking country, and I spent the entire time in close proximity with friends and other people I knew well. Here, I'm much more on my own. Fortunately, the host-mother is considerate and understanding, but I also am coming to understand what I gave up for this. It seems to me that I couldn't understand my personal culture and values without leaving them behind, so here I am.

I've always known I'm a dreamer. I've spent my life trying to find something in particular that really captivates me, but I never seem to let myself get too comfortable. What I'm starting to realize is the value of a home, the incredible value of a place to call home, and of people close to me.

It's one thing to be able to insert oneself into a new situation--I've been doing that all my life, going to many different schools, associating with many different crowds, negotiating some sort of impression of the world. But it's another thing to stick with something, and I think that's what I've really been looking for. I suppose it's my malfunction that as much as I try to capture wonder and live in moments, I still often feel like a part of me is elsewhere. I think that has something to do with why alcohol tends to make me nervous--I forget what this particular philosophical ideal is called, but it's something like the theory that experience comes entirely from the self, and the Self should be cultivated wholly, or something like that. Really, what it comes down to is the idea that I simply can't shake that there might be something better--there's probably a more wholesome way to spend an evening. Still, I've experienced the positive side as well, and it's something I still can't exactly rationalize. On Saturday, when the streets were full of masses of drunk people by the river here in St Petersburg, I walked around with my camera, documenting the whole thing instead of participating in the expected way.

I can't ever seem to decide, also, whether I'm more an artist or a scientist. It pleases me very much to write, to comment on the world, to photograph what I see and share my impressions. It pleases my and calms my spirit to play the piano or the guitar. But I'm also searching for meaning all the time, and I always want to know why, what for, and what it means.

In the end, the something that I always have is myself, who I am, and where I come from. I've realized that what made Israel special isn't the sites themselves. It wasn't the place. A place is a place. What makes a place special is how a person connects to it. The people I met in Israel were interpreters. I wouldn't appreciate LA so much if not for the people I grew up with there. The halls and grounds of Tufts have meaning for me in this way. People need people, and that's a hard thing realize when you're ten thousand miles from home.

Interpretation: (This is what I did two summers ago, when I worked as an interpretive naturalist for MRCA)

Dead battery!

An update

If I had been able to access the Internet for any significant length of time this weekend, I would have been somewhat the emo blogger. Culture shock hit me on Thursday evening, but things improved on Saturday afternoon and then visiting Peterhof yesterday was pretty awesome. Class is starting right now so I have to go, but I'll update more (with pictures from Peterhof!) in a few hours.

From Saturday evening (Internet died just as I was about to post it):
<< Title: "Borsch"
Don't have time for much of a post right now because I'm supposed to meet some people, but I wanted to mention that culture shock hit me on Thursday afternoon. I'm doing better now after a fun afternoon out. I walked around Nevsky Prospekt with one of the tutors (Russians who study at Smolny and help us Americans with our Russian studies). It was a lot of fun! We walked around, went to a café, and saw a movie. It was the American film "Push" staring Dakota Fanning et al, dubbed into Russian. The tutor helped me at parts, and I really enjoyed it actually. I'm looking forward to more trips to the Kino. On Nevsky, I also found a place to buy reproductions of Soviet-era propaganda posters for cheap, and they're awesome. Going around with one of the tutors definitely makes for a better Russia experience. If the guides and Israelis hadn't been with us in Israel, it would have been quite boring and would have seemed quite far away indeed.

Anyway, culture shock sucks, but I'm doing better. I'll say more later as I really ought to go, but let me just say that being so far away in a foreign culture really makes me appreciate the connections I have back home. It also makes me think about what I left behind, but the important thing now is that I'm in Russia, and I owe it to myself to make the most of it. In any case, to anyone reading this blog--you mean a lot to me, and I'm so glad that you took the time to read this. You all know who you are--I miss you.

There's a lot to say about the young man going abroad, yearning to see the world. Agh, the more I write, the more I want to write, but I have to go. I'll explain more later--probably on Monday morning.

Anyway, I just finished a delicious bowl of borsch, and now it's time to go. I'm at a café (near Vasileostrovskaya Metro) where everything is orange. Time to go.
>>

Class now, more in a few hours. Thanks for all the emails, everyone! And Happy Father's Day--here (Monday now) it's Memorial Day.