“Why are you making that strange sound?” My mum asked during our skype conversation. “Ah, I see. Hmmm…Wait, what strange sound?”
Recently, some friends and family members have noticed
my version of aizuchi. Aizuchi, or conversation interjections, is a very Japanese-specific phenomenon. In English/French/Czech.., the speaker speaks and the listener listens. Japanese conversation, on the other hand, requires a very active involvement on the side of the listener. In Japanese, while the speaker is speaking, the listener “proves” his active listening by constantly making “strange” sounds,aizuchi, often accompanied by “Hmmm.” “I see.” “Really?” “Oh, ok.” “Wow.” It is, in fact, consi
dered quite rude to “just” listen to what the other person says. At first, I tried to resist aizuchi. Now, however, I find
myself hmmm-ing, I-see-ing, Oh-ok-ing, like any other proper Japanese boy. Oddly enough, these Japanese sounds are creeping into all other languages I know.
And so, I wonder: Am I becoming Japanese?
It’s been three months since I arrived to the Land of the Rising Sun. Perhaps, it’s the abundance of rice and miso soup in my diet. Perhaps, it’s the florid-intense Japanese water. I can already see certain mutations. Slowly yet surely, I’m metamorphosing. I might not be getting Big in Japan anytime soon but Japan’s certainly getting big in me, right now. Slowly yet surely, I’m becoming Japanese. And so, like any proper Japanese boy would do, I’m offering a ranking of my newly
acquired Japaneseque features.
5. The more vending machines, the more convenience stores, the more civilized
I started to believe that the level of cultural advancement, the level of civilization, could be measured by the density of vending machines and convenience stores. For those unfamiliar with the vending-machine concept: these are everywhere in Japan and sell everything from vitamin drinks to cell-phones (two years ago, Japanese government banned vending machines that had been selling used underwear; so you cannot buy that anymore; but everything else…). Similarly, Japanese convenience stores are
omnipresent and omnipotent; they’re very small but somehow manage to have everything you’ll ever need. And so, as my fellow Japanese countrymen, I started to orientate my daily life around these two crucial institutions. Likewise, when I find myself in a place where vending machines and convenience stores abound, my heart rejoices. The other day, I passed a street in Tokyo that had 7/11, Family Mart and Coco right next to each other, and all three had two vending machines at the front door. Bliss and Heaven! I thought that civilization could not go
beyond that point, and was expecting little angels whistling Beethoven’s 9th symphony. On the other hand, however, when I find myself in a location without a single convenience store (or God-forbid, without any vending machines), I feel vulgar and barbaric, expecting Avilla the Hun to pillage the God-forsaken place within moments.
4. Foreigners are to be avoided
Japan is a very homogeneous country. Sometimes, I spent weeks without seeing another non-Asian person. And so naturally, I just feel like I, myself, became a member of the Asian race. Every time, I look into a mirror, I’m startled and cannot recognize the white-Rene. Most importantly, however, I find myself freaking out when seeing a foreign person. When I get on a bus and see a non-Japanese person, I start sweating. What if he/she will sit next to me? What if he/she will want to talk to me?
Naturally, my newly acquired mild form of fear of foreigners (xenophobia sounds a bit too strong) comes largely as a result of Japanese brainwashing. Yet, I would also like to say that my experience with foreigners in Japan has not been exactly a la rose. One example for all: So far, I have been to five Chinese restaurants in Japan, they have all been fairly expensive yet their service was beyond atrocious, especially compared to their Japanese equivalents. Anyone who’s ever been to Japan will testify that even the smallest dinghole Japanese restaurant has an incredibly better service than majority of places in America or Europe. Chinese restaurants, not so. I’m sure there are some well-served Chinese establishments in Japan. But all the ones I’ve visited, so far, had an Ivy-Noodle-on-Friday-Night quality of service, rolling eyes when asked for more water. Compared to an average Japanese food stall even Royal China in Yokohama does not stand a chance. And so like most Japanese people, I think that foreign places and foreigners are to be avoided. Nothing good comes out of non-Japan.
3. Tokyo is the only city in the world. The rest is countryside
At middle-school, they taught us that there are two views of the world: geocentric (with Earth at its center) and helio-centric (Sun being the center). Well, I think they should have also mentioned the Tokyo-centric viewpoint. There might be the Sun and the Earth, but they all revolve around Tokyo. When talking to residents in Tokyo’s archrival metropolis Osaka, one could sense a certain inferiority complex.
Even the proudest residents often admit: It’s just not Tokyo. Likewise, most Ja
panese people regard Euro-American cities with a strange sense of curiosity. Paris is romantic. Prague is pretty. New York is exciting. But that’s all they are. Tokyo is all of it – and ever more. It abounds with superlatives – the biggest, the wealthiest, the most vibrant. After having spent a few months in Tokyo, I’ve been infected with the Tokyo-centric viewpoint. I can see myself touring Japan, temple-viewing in Kyoto and Onsen-hopping in Sapporo. I can see myself “doing” Europe in five days. But then I would like to return to where life’s just better: TO-KY-O.
2. Things are either Kawaii (cute) or not
Japan is a cute culture. Pokemon, Hello Kitty, Sailor Moon. Being “kawaii” is a principal quality that is sought after by both boys and girls, old and young. Being cute (kawaii) is a very peculiar feature – one either is, or isn’t. It extends beyond people to many other things, and only truly Japanese people understand where kawaii-ness begins and ends. Cars, trains, and clothes can be cute, food, hospitals, and white babies cannot.
I, too, have started to see the world through the lenses of cuteness. When I see something/someone I know immediately whether the object/person is cute – or not. And like the Japanese, in case of the former, I exclaim enthusiastically “KAWAIIII!!!, in case of the latter, I just keep quiet. And indeed, being able to recognize what’s cute and what’s not seems a unifying factor that connects all Japanese people (including myself). Two days ago, I took a train to Hakodate. On the train, there was a 5-year old boy who kept mispronouncing the name of the train (in a very loud voice). I recognized his “cuteness” and shouted Kawaiii!!!. Everyone on the train nodded and smiled at me. Towards the end of the trip, the boy got a bit too anxious and started pulling his grandma’s hair. There was another white person on the train who tried to copy my earlier success. And so while the boy was being not nice to his grandma, the white man yelled “Kawaiii!!!” Everyone looked at him strictly, silently begging him to keep quiet. The white man thought he was going to receive the same accolade for acknowledging cuteness; instead, he just estranged himself from the rest of the nation. Unlike me, the man got no smiles.
1. Michael Jackson is the King of Pop. (Still).
Before becoming Japanese, I thought that Michael Jackson was not but an inappropriate relic from a strange age before my time. I recognized his contribution to popular music, and that was it. I sort of understood that in some circles he might be considered vintage-cool, but that was the extent to which I was willing to like MJ. Moreover, I remember being appalled by Mike’s escapades in the Neverland (or whatever the name of his strange Peter-Panesque McMansion is).
In Japan, however, I have been enlightened: Michael Jackson is the greatest artist who ever lived, and the Japanese are the only nation who completely understand his legacy, the only nation that pay him due respects. Michael’s posters are everywhere. His music plays non-stop on most radio stations. And there’s in fact a Michael Jackson TV station, pumping hits such as Thriller (pronounced SU-RI-RAA) 24/7.
My appreciation for Mi-ku-ru-ja-ku-so-nu stands as a monument to my Japanification. I will no longer recede to my pre-Japan identities as long as I keep revering the King, since holding the King in deep respect is the single most important feature of the Japanese mind. To become Japanese, you cannot “stop till you get enough.” To be Japanese means to love the King. It’s pretty black-and-white. You either buy green tea from vending machines, or you don’t. You either get cute or you don’t. You either believe in Tokyo or you don’t. Most notably, nonetheless, you either understand who the King is or you don’t. You can’t beat it, cause THIS IS IT.
