This Music Makes One Really Sleepy

This Music Makes One Really Sleepy

I have just been taught an atomic theory: the high-low context-culture thing. Allegedly, some cultures (US) communicate in a low context mode, and others (Japan) find themselves on the other end of the spectrum. Japan is a high-context culture, the US just the opposite. Or in other words: Americans say what they want while the Japanese don’t want what they say. So it goes… However, I am not quite sure whether I am buying it.

Surely, living with a Japanese roommate, I’ve had to search fo hidden meanings in between his words. Surely, Kazutoshi has expected me to understand a lot of mundane things without actually verbalizing them. It took me a few days to figure out that…

“This music makes one really sleepy” = “I don’t like your music. TURN IT OFF.”

“This food is really hot, isn’t it? It can burn one’s tongue even!” = “Your cooking sucks. Starting tomorrow, I’m taking over.”

“Isn’t this little train timetable useful?” = “Why can’t you remember when the last train is!?”

“The bathroom floor can get a little slippery.” = “Clean after yourself.”

“I wonder what the strange smell coming from kitchen is.” “Wash your dishes”

“You must have many friends at home.” = “Stop skyping all the time!”

“Would you mind if I take a picture of this dish?” = “Wow, your cooking really does suck.”

Indeed, trying to figure out what Kazu-san (read. the Japanese) really wants can sometimes be challenging. One thing about spoken Japanese is that most of it is unspoken. One simply has to learn to read between the lines. And to do so, much has to be considered – social hierarchy, regional differences, economic differences, or just the all-encompassing wishy-washy term: culture.

On the other hand, however, there are certain topics unobstructedly discussed in Japan while frowned upon in the US. Money, for instance, turns the entire high context-low context classification upside down. Unlike the Americans, the Japanese discuss financial issues unashamedly. “Oh, I like your shirt. HOW MUCH WAS IT?” And depending on the amount, if they believe they couldn’t afford it, they let you know immediately, exposing their own financial status. : “That much! I could never buy such an expensive coat!” I have been asked other money-related questions, as well: “Where do you get your money from? How much do you get paid at work? How much do your parents earn.” I was flabbergasted when my friend Natsuko asked me: “How much money is in your bank account?” I did not quite understand what she meant (or did not really believe my ears). “You mean how much money I usually earn at work?” I asked confused and dazzled. She quickly responded: “No, I mean how many dollars EXACTLY do you have in your bank account right now.” Other CET students have experienced a similar cultural gap – a girl in my program told me that her roommate looks over her shoulder when she checks her bank account, often commenting on how much money there is/isn’t. Just imagine your college roommate in the US staring at your computer screen when you’re on the Bank of America personal site.

The Japanese might communicate certain issues via verbal puzzles. With respect to some topics, however, they are more than direct. In terms of money, for instance, there certainly isn’t much unspoken in spoken Japanese. You either have it or not. It might be an Osaka-specific feature, it’s a merchant town after all. Yet, in my interactions with even Kanto people, I noticed that the Japanese stand clearer than a sparkling blue sky when discussing personal finances. And so I cannot but conclude that though money might not buy you happiness, it certainly has the power to shatter the atomic theory of intercultural exchange. With money, the Americans seem to find themselves on the high and the Japanese on the low context side of the cultural communication scale. With money, strangely enough, Americans become Japanese and Japanese become American. Although in Japan slippery floor might be the code for dirty sink , some issues carry no high-context façade. While here in Japan sleepiness might epitomize annoying music, MONEY is just MONEY. And so to paraphrase Bo Derek, whoever said money can’t buy you happiness, obviously didn’t know where to go shopping in Umeda.