January 26, 2007 There really are distinct fundamental differences between cultures. You may say, “Well of course there are Todd, duh,” and that’s easy to say from the recliner, but sometimes hard to acknowledge and accept when you are finally confronted with change. One can’t just come over to say, Japan, and expect to slide right into society. There is no automatic fit. And the differences are hidden within the way you drink your tea, the change of the seasons, or the deepness of your bow. Recently I have been showing a video of a young American man that walked the length of Japan while searching for his father’s birthplace. The catch was that his father couldn’t remember the name of the town where he was born because he left when he was less than a year old. He did, however, possess a small sketch of a distinctive piece of coastline that his grandmother drew when she was a child, and that was it. Although he knew the island of Hokkaido (the northern most island) held the birth site, he elected to walk from the very southern most point of Japan to better understand the culture and its people. I thought this was a great video to show the Japanese students. It would perhaps let them see their country with fresh eyes, and maybe let them have an insight into what we as foreigners think about their country. So I had them watch the video in two segments. We watched the first half of the video and answered questions related to the video. The same was true for the second half of the video. But I continually got blank answers from one of the questions. “What was the funniest thing that Kintaro did?” (“Kintaro” is the man’s Japanese nickname in the video). The question was simple. We watched a movie where a foreigner walked the length of Japan. And of course he is going to break some taboos, do funny things, or say some unintelligent sentence that states that the goodness of the Japanese people permeates throughout his internal organs while his stomach is full of good experiences. But that’s okay. That is what traveling is all about. At some point or another, you are going to make a fool of yourself. Now an American student at the high school level would have no trouble picking out five funny things that he did, let alone one, so I could not see where the difficulty lay in finding something hilarious; until one of my students let me in on the secret, unbeknownst to him. Shiohara-kun had lived in the states for a few years in Sacramento with his family before returning to Japan. He has excellent command of the English language, so I regularly communicate with him during class to see where I stand. “Did you like the video?” “Yeah, I thought it was cool.” “Good, I am happy to hear that. Let me see your answers.” As I scan over his answers, they are all correct with good grammar and punctuation. I applaud verbally as I examine each answer. “Okay, good. Nice. Excellent. Yes, he was addicted to walking and that is why he couldn’t stop.” My train of applauds stop when I come to number 4. It’s blank, and I have no clue why. The question reads, “What was the funniest thing that Kintaro did during the whole movie? The kid should bang this one out no problem. “So, what about number 4?” I ask. “Well, I don’t know. Do you want me to write what you think is the funniest part, or what I think is funny?” Ding ding ding, we have a winner! A huge “Aha!” went off in my head, and for a second I had to remember to close my jaw. I was absolutely flabbergasted. I couldn’t believe that the students had difficulties reading into the fundamental idea that I wanted their honest subjective opinion, and not a regurgitation of what I said was the funniest part. At the same moment, in my head I was saying, “Well of course I want your opinion! You have to have an opinion!” but I bit my tongue, and with a kindly smile said, “Please tell me what you think.” I realized in that second that sometimes things really do have to be spelled out. Our minds see the world in different shapes and colors. Sometimes things aren’t so black and white. Japan is definitely a country of many grays, and I’ve realized it’s not such a bad thing to treat my kids like lost puppies in the woods, because for the most part, they are (when it comes to English anyway). Lesson two came when the same question came in conflict with number six. Now you’ll remember of course that number four was, “What was the funniest thing that Kintaro did during the movie?” Number six read, “What was the most interesting thing that Kintaro did during the movie?” Looking at these questions with hindsight, I can see some difficulties distinguishing differences between the two; maybe even for students all over the world. But the Japanese have more trouble than most with this because their word, omoshiroi, means interesting and funny. So in a sense I was asking them the same question twice. And I was asking their opinion on the same question twice. It was just too much for them to handle. I just thank my lucky stars that one of them didn’t blow up from the pressure! Scoff all you want, but come over here and see how they handle failure. I can tell you that it isn’t in the healthiest of ways. That being said, I love my kids and my school. My students are extremely respectful, loveable, and try their hardest (Most of the time!). My school has been nothing but understanding and accommodating. I honestly think I got one of the best deals in the whole of the JET Program. Most schools require their ALT’s (Assistant Language Teacher) to be at school even when classes are not in session. If you want to take it off, you must take your personal vacation time. Mine, however, lets me take off and do whatever I choose, even when the regular teachers are required to attend school. And I don’t have to take my vacation days for this either. They understand that exploring Japan or other countries while coming over here is part of our job as well. After returning from the states I had my doubts about Japan. I wasn’t so sure I wanted to stay for another year, let alone able to finish this year. I felt as though I was coming here for the first time all over again. I had butterflies in my stomach and doubted whether or not I was doing a good job. But my time off was exactly what I needed. My fire has returned, and I realize that if I can go snowboarding every weekend, have decent vacations here and there, obtain an intimate insight into a country that has held my attention and wonderment for so long while putting a few bucks in the bank at the same time, I am one of the luckiest fools on the face of the earth. I started this letter off with a rambling about fundamental differences. Yes, they exist, and yes, they can seem insurmountable at times. So much so that you may want to pull the last remaining hairs from the top of your head (sorry if that is the case). I wrote this letter to get something off my chest. I couldn’t believe that the students couldn’t see an idea from my point of view. Now I see that I was presumptuous to expect the same thought pattern from a different society and people. My failure in my lesson actually taught me something. My students taught me something. And I took one more step towards…well, I don’t really know what: Cultural understanding? But I mean, how cool is that? Fortunately we can not change everyone around us to think the way we do. What a boring world it would be. Embracing change and discomfort seem like the best path when dealing with uncommon and uncomfortable feelings. I remember when I was going through quite a sea change. I read self help books concerning spiritual topics and daily life habits. I was searching for the right answers to questions that have none. But there were a few lines of thought or phrases that stuck in my memory. It was something about viewing yourself when things get rough. As the wind increases to a gale, instead of toppling like the big oak that fights it, bend like a reed and weather the storm. I always liked that one. Because I have an affinity with sailing and the ocean or it just sounded cool, I am not sure, but it stuck. But the next time you fighting the wind, turn around and see where it blows you. It may be the best thing you’ll ever do. |
