Being here

There are things I love and well, don't love, about this country. I suppose you could say the same about anywhere. I have never been treated to such spontaneous kindness as I have here in Japan, nor with such indifference or suspicion.

For a foreigner, it is a place of extremes. One of my new students, who has met me on one occassion only, offered to baby sit my as yet unborn baby after he comes to Japan. Not just politeness mind you, as the offer was repeated several times. On the other hand, I still, and probably never will, feel entirely comfortable here. It's not just paranoia, though there's always a measure of that in anything I do. I realised again today ( and its a process I need to go through everytime) that non-Japanese are outsiders and will forever be so. In some cases (say, where a foreigner has married a Japanese, learnt the language fluently and made every effort to integrate) the effect is one of gradual disintegration, followed by alienation and anger. I know personally of a few cases.

As for me, I suppose I'm disappointed, then surprised that I should feel this way.On my first visit here, I accepted the stares and occasional screwed-up face with wry amusement. Later on I started to feel, well, pissed off. The novelty of being different soon wears off and is replaced by a desire to be completely invisible.

This evening, Satoshi, one of those many Japanese whom I love, called me up to see how I was and to offer help with the computer. Isn't it always the case that generalisations are best left unsaid or unwritten about?

Nothing is black and white. Nothing.