According to the documents, Suraj was escorted from Yokohama by nine immigration officers to Narita airport. After spending about two hours in a waiting room at the airport, he was taken to another vehicle, in handcuffs and with a rope tied around his waist. They arrived at the aircraft at 1:40 p.m.
Suraj stepped out of the vehicle at 2:20 p.m. The immigration officers said in the documents that because he was protesting his deportation, they restrained him face down and carried him onto the Egypt Air MS965 flight for Cairo. They used an additional pair of metal cuffs around his ankles (a prohibited practice) and forced him to sit in an aisle seat on the back row.
One officer took out four pairs of plastic restraints that he had bought with his own money and tied the handcuffs to his belt. Other officers gagged him so tightly with a towel (again, illegally) that his front teeth bit through the towel. One officer pushed Suraj's neck from behind to bend his body further forward. Suraj was motionless by 2:35 p.m.
At the request of the cabin crew, the officers moved Suraj to a window seat, but he was unresponsive. The officers reasoned that he was just pretending to be sick, but the cabin crew saw Suraj was leaning motionless against the window and asked for him to be removed from the plane at 2:50 p.m. No resuscitation attempt was made until he was carried out of the aircraft and into the vehicle they came in. A doctor in an airport clinic confirmed his death at 3:31 p.m.
"These documents based on the accounts of the officers point to illegal and excessive use of restraints," says Sosuke Seki, a lawyer involved in the case. "Immigration officers are supposed to videotape deportation procedures when restraints are applied, but the officer in charge of Suraj's deportation specifically ordered videotaping to be stopped when he was carried into the aircraft. Whether this was intentional or not must be revealed in the trial."
Suraj's legal problems began after he entered Japan on a tourist visa in May 1988. He met his future wife four months later; they moved in together the following January, despite his tourist visa having expired in June. Suraj was arrested and detained 18 years later in 2006, following the announcement of a crackdown on "overstayers" by then Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi.
By the time he was forcibly put on a plane at Narita, he had spent a total of 20 months in detention centers, despite the fact that Tokyo's Suginami Ward Office had officially accepted their marriage application.
Japan's immigration authorities can detain any foreigner without proper documentation for indefinite periods when they suspect violations of the Immigration Control Law. They are under no compulsion to explain why such people need to be locked up.
Both asylum seekers and immigrants without proper visas are detained in the same facilities, known as "immigration centers." Human rights groups say immigration authorities apply regulations arbitrarily and make decisions with agonizing slowness.
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The Immigration Bureau says the number of people in the country who had "illegally stayed in Japan beyond the permitted period" was 91,778 as of January 2010. In addition, 1,388 people filed for refugee status the previous year. In principle, any of these people may be detained.
In 2010, 18,578 overstayers were handed deportation orders, representing about 77 percent of the 24,213 people who received such papers that year. Many were detained in Japan for many months before they were finally made to leave the country. Some had — for all intents and purposes — already settled productively into Japanese society, married Japanese nationals with Japan-born children. Others have children who have started school in Japan and only speak Japanese. Some are released on temporary permits, only to be detained again a few months later.
After Suraj's death, the police called on Junpei Yamamura, a doctor who regularly visits immigrants and asylum seekers at detention centers, and who had records of the victim's health.
"The police were obviously trying to find weakness in Suraj's health when they came to ask about him," Yamamura says. "They visited me four times about the case, despite the fact I repeatedly told them that there was nothing wrong with him."
Yamamura said his records showed that Suraj's heartbeat was slower than average on one occasion, but was normal when he was reexamined later. An electrocardiogram otherwise showed no abnormality.
Yamamura also examined his body after it was returned to his wife. He says he saw a cut on Suraj's cheek, an indication that the gag was too tight. "This is criminal abuse of power," says Yamamura.
Chiba Police began an investigation on the suspicion that Suraj died as a result of violence inflicted on him by the immigration officers. The case was sent to the Chiba District Public Prosecutors' Office in December. Prosecutors are still investigating. Police referred nine (possibly 10) immigration officers to Chiba prosecutors in December, but they have not been indicted. The criminal charges against the officers are still up in the air.
His widow fears the case will be forgotten if it is drawn out any longer. In desperation, she and Suraj's mother in Ghana filed a suit in August for compensation against the government and nine immigration officers who were involved in his deportation. The trial began on Monday.
Among their demands is that the Justice Ministry disclose why they stopped videoing the deportation on the day of Suraj's death. The ministry has admitted that such video existed but initially refused to disclose it, claiming that the case was still under investigation.
Human rights groups will be watching the outcome of the case very closely. As for Suraj's widow, she says she simply wants justice.
"Nothing will bring him back, but I just need to know why he died," she said.
Send comments on this issue and story ideas to community@japantimes.co.jp
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嘘も方便。政府の日常的態度。責任の回避。人権無視と反民主主義。政府へ不信感。アジアで孤立。原発事故と嘘。
JUST BE CAUSE
The costly fallout of tatemae and Japan's culture of deceit
By DEBITO ARUDOU
Tuesday, Nov. 1, 2011
There is an axiom in Japanese: uso mo hōben — "lying is also a means to an end." It sums up the general attitude in Japan of tolerance of — even justification for — not telling the truth.
First — defining "telling the truth" as divulging the truth (not a lie), the whole truth (full disclosure) and nothing but the truth (uncompounded with lies) — consider how lies are deployed in everyday personal interactions.
Let's start with good old tatemae (charitably translated as "pretense"). By basically saying something you think the listener wants to hear, tatemae is, essentially, lying. That becomes clearer when the term is contrasted with its antonym, honne, one's "true feelings and intentions."
Tatemae, however, goes beyond the "little white lie," as it is often justified less by the fact you have avoided hurting your listener's feelings, more by what you have gained from the nondisclosure.
But what if you disclose your true feelings? That's often seen negatively, as baka shōjiki ("stupidly honest"): imprudent, naive, even immature. Skillful lying is thus commendable — it's what adults in society learn to do.
Now extrapolate. What becomes of a society that sees lying as a justifiably institutionalized practice? Things break down. If everyone is expected to lie, who or what can you trust?
Consider law enforcement. Japan's lack of even the expectation of full disclosure means, for example, there is little right to know your accuser (e.g., in bullying cases). In criminal procedure, the prosecution controls the flow of information to the judge (right down to what evidence is admissible). And that's before we get into how secretive and deceptive police interrogations are infamous for being.
Consider jurisprudence. Witnesses are expected to lie to such an extent that Japan's perjury laws are weak and unenforceable. Civil court disputes (try going through, for example, a divorce) often devolve into one-upmanship lying matches, flippantly dismissed as "he-said, she-said" (mizukake-ron). And judges, as seen in the Valentine case (Zeit Gist, Aug. 14, 2007), will assume an eyewitness is being untruthful simply based on his/her attributes — in this case because the witness was foreign like the plaintiff.
Consider administrative procedure. Official documents and public responses attach organizational affiliations but few actual names for accountability. Those official pronouncements, as I'm sure many readers know due to arbitrary Immigration decisions, often fall under bureaucratic "discretion" (sairyō), with little if any right of appeal. And if you need further convincing, just look at the loopholes built into Japan's Freedom of Information Act.
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All this undermines trust of public authority. Again, if bureaucrats (like everyone else) are not expected to fully disclose, society gets a procuracy brazenly ducking responsibility wherever possible through vague directives, masked intentions and obfuscation.
This is true to some degree of all bureaucracies, but the problem in Japan is that this nondisclosure goes relatively unpunished. Our media watchdogs, entrusted with upholding public accountability, often get distracted or corrupted by editorial or press club conceits. Or, giving reporters the benefit of the doubt, it's hard to know which lyin' rat to pounce on first when there are so many. Or journalists themselves engage in barely researched, unscientific or sensationalistic reporting, undermining their trustworthiness as information sources.
Public trust, once lost, is hard to regain. In such a climate, even if the government does tell the truth, people may still disbelieve it. Take, for example, the Environment Ministry's recent strong-arming of regional waste management centers to process Tohoku disaster ruins: Many doubt government claims that radioactive rubble will not proliferate nationwide, fanning fears that the nuclear power industry is trying to make itself less culpable for concentrated radiation poisoning by irradiating everyone (see www.debito.org/?p=954!)!
Apologists would say (and they do) that lying is what everyone in positions of power does worldwide, since power itself corrupts. But there is the matter of degree, and in Japan there is scant reward for telling the truth — and ineffective laws to protect whistle-blowers. It took a brave foreign CEO at Olympus Corp. to come out recently about corporate malfeasance; he was promptly sacked, reportedly due to his incompatibility with "traditional Japanese practices." Yes, quite so.
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This tradition of lying has a long history. The Japanese Empire's deception about its treatment of prisoners of war and noncombatants under the Geneva Conventions (e.g., the Bataan Death March, medical experiments under Unit 731), not to mention lying to its own civilians about how they would be treated if captured by the Allies, led to some of the most horrifying mass murder-suicides of Japanese, dehumanizing reprisals by their enemies, and war without mercy in World War II's Pacific Theater.
Suppressing those historical records, thanks to cowardice among Japan's publishers, reinforced by a general lack of "obligation to the truth," has enabled a clique of revisionists to deny responsibility for Japan's past atrocities, alienating it from its neighbors in a globalizing world.
Even today, in light of Fukushima, Japan's development into a modern and democratic society seems to have barely scratched the surface of this culture of deceit. Government omerta and omission kept the nation ignorant about the most basic facts — including reactor meltdowns — for months!
Let me illustrate the effects of socially accepted lying another way: What is considered the most untrustworthy of professions? Politics, of course. Because politicians are seen as personalities who, for their own survival, appeal to people by saying what they want to hear, regardless of their own true feelings.
That is precisely what tatemae does to Japanese society. It makes everyone into a politician, changing the truth to suit their audience, garner support or deflect criticism and responsibility.
Again, uso mo hoben: As long as you accomplish your goals, lying is a means to an end. The incentives in Japan are clear. Few will tell the truth if they will be punished for doing so, moreover rarely punished for not doing so.
No doubt a culturally relativistic observer would attempt to justify this destructive dynamic by citing red herrings and excuses (themselves tatemae) such as "conflict avoidance," "maintaining group harmony," "saving face," or whatever. Regardless, the awful truth is: "We Japanese don't lie. We just don't tell the truth."
This is not sustainable. Post-Fukushima Japan must realize that public acceptance of lying got us into this radioactive mess in the first place.
For radiation has no media cycle. It lingers and poisons the land and food chain. Statistics may be obfuscated or suppressed as usual. But radiation's half-life is longer than the typical attention span or sustainable degree of public outrage.
As the public — possibly worldwide — sickens over time, the truth will leak out.
Debito Arudou's novel "In Appropriate" is now on sale (www.debito.org/inappropriate.html) Just Be Cause appears on the first Community Page of the month. Twitter @arudoudebito. Send comments on this issue to community@japantimes.co.jp
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グローバリゼーション化に添っていない在日外国人の権利制限。
Schizophrenic Constitution leaves foreigners’ rights mired in confusion
November 11, 2011 in Discrimination, Immigration, News
So what rights do foreign residents have under the Constitution? Well, according to the Supreme Court, they are entitled to all the same rights as Japanese people, except for those which by their nature are only to be enjoyed by Japanese people. Does that help?
This Delphic guidance comes from a very important 1978 Supreme Court ruling in what is known as the McLean Case. Ronald McLean came to Japan as an English teacher in 1969 but quickly got involved in the local anti-Vietnam War protest movement. When he sought to renew his visa, the Ministry of Justice refused. He challenged the denial in court, asserting that he was being punished for engaging in lawful political activity, exercising his rights to free speech, assembly and so forth.
He lost (of course), and although the case is supposedly significant because in it the nation’s highest court enunciates the general principle that foreigners enjoy some of the rights enumerated in the Constitution, it does so with a caveat: that even those rights are limited by the scope of the regime of immigration laws which allow them to enter, reside and work in Japan.
Take the case of Kathleen Morikawa, an American resident in Japan who was fined for refusing to be fingerprinted as part of the alien registration process of days gone by. When she applied for a re-entry permit for a short trip to South Korea, her application was denied and she sought recourse in the courts. In 1992 the Supreme Court declared that foreigners had no constitutional right to enter or re-enter Japan, and that the Justice Ministry’s refusal to issue a re-entry permit was an acceptable exercise of administrative discretion in light of her refusal to be fingerprinted.
“Ignore the law and pay the price” is a fair comment here, but what I find noteworthy about the Morikawa case is that it did not seem to matter that she had a Japanese spouse and Japanese children. That the Justice Ministry can punitively strip Japanese nationals of their ability to travel or even live with a family member would seem to be at least as important constitutionally as whatever rights foreigners may or may not have.
The fact that many of us may be willing to live in Japan essentially at the sufferance of the government does not mean that our Japanese spouses, children and other kin should not have their own independent constitutionally protected rights to a family life free from arbitrary bureaucratic caprice. Article 13 of the Constitution refers to a right to the “pursuit of happiness,” but meaningful court precedents tying this provision to a right to family life are thin on the ground.
Recent revelations by a former prosecutor about being taught by his superiors that “foreigners have no human rights” raise further doubts about whether Japan is really up to the legal issues implicit in globalization.
Finally, since Japanese courts often justify their decisions using references to shakai tsūnen (commonly accepted social norms), even constitutional decisions can tend to reflect a distinctly majoritarian bent. In some countries a judiciary committed to defending minorities and unpopular viewpoints combined with clearly defined constitutional protections is expected to function as a bastion of human rights. Whether this can be expected of Japanese courts is debatable.
The fact that many of us expats are still here nonetheless may thus be because of the inherent kindness of the Japanese people rather than any high expectations of their government. At the end of the day, perhaps that is what popular sovereignty is all about.
HAVE YOUR SAY
Tatemae as truth, culture clashes and Arudou's dangerous myth
Some responses to Debito Arudou's Nov. 1 Just Be Cause column, headlined "The costly fallout of tatemae and Japan's culture of deceit":
Tuesday, Nov. 15, 2011
Tatemae a type of truth, not lie
Although I agree with fellow activist Debito Arudou on most things, I must take issue with his recent piece claiming that Japan has a "culture of deceit" that explains many social ills.
While liars can be found in all cultures, I see no evidence that Japanese culture has anything but contempt for lying. Tatemae is often confused with lying, but it actually means something more like telling the truth, albeit through "pretense" (the translation Arudou dismisses). Tatemae is used when both parties — speaker and listener — know the truth so there is no need to voice it. Its intention is not to deceive.
Ironically, if you ask a Japanese person about Arudou's theory of Japanese culture, many might answer "yes" for the sake of tatemae and (closely related) humility, assuming the questioner knows it is not her true feeling.
The government's coverup and downplaying of the Fukushima nuclear power plant disaster is a case in point. The public outrage is focused on the government's "lies" (uso), which are not accepted as tatemae. Far from it. Tatemae would have meant an official overplaying his own responsibility — to say "It was all my fault," even if he clearly doesn't think so.
What happened was the government downplayed its responsibility and the danger — good old "lying." It is hard to see how Tokyo's lies differ from Washington's after Three Mile Island or Moscow's after Chernobyl. Nearly all Japanese and many foreigners use tatemae. To say we are all lying when we do so is simply to misunderstand tatemae.
The loopholes in the U.S. Freedom of Information Act gape wider than those in Japan's. Our union has had extraordinary success uncovering contracts between private ALT agencies and school boards around the country.
Mizukakeron — or, more commonly, itta-iwanai — is a concept used commonly in court, not to mean a "lying match," as Arudou claims, but rather what it means in English: "he said, she said." It refers to a specific situation in which the only evidence for a particularly assertion is one person's testimony countered by one other person. Since each testify for their side, there is no way for the judge to determine which side is telling the truth, and so the assertion cannot be established. If there is even one piece of physical evidence, the concept of itta-iwanai no longer applies.
Like most cultures around the world, Japanese culture highly values the truth. Like most governments, the Japanese government lies.
"Do you think anybody believes these tales about food safety they are dishing out these days", I was asked the other day by a Japanese lady. I was surprised by her frankness but I also realized that mistrust towards the government and officialdom was more endemic than I had thought.
With so much distrust around, you would think that Debito Arudou had a just cause for his polemic, when he writes about lies seemingly embedded in Japanese culture. But then he spoils his whole argument — as so often — through his gross generalization and exaggeration.
First of all, he quotes the Japanese expression uso mo hōben, which he translates as "a lie is also a means to an end". The word "hōben" is originally derived from the Buddhist concept of "upaya", which means that skillful means have to be applied to help deluded people on the spiritual way. In other words, If you are afraid that your kid could fall into the well and think that this danger is beyond its grasp, you might as well tell the child that a fierce beast lives in the well that devours young kids if they get too close. A lie, yes, but one that stands to reason by any standard.
So which are the despicable lies lingering around? Another Buddhist concept to progress on the spiritual path is jiko o korosu, or "kill the small ego", in order to embrace the true and universal self.
But just as with the above-mentioned word "hōben," the original meaning has been lost. The place where you might encounter this expression nowadays could be your workplace, meaning that you should give up all egoistic thoughts in favor of the bigger association, in this case the company.
The Japanese group system has incorporated these Buddhist or Confucian values in order to enhance the dynamics and the clout of the group and, it has to be emphasized, Japan has still a very particularistic group-oriented society. So if loyalty to a certain association takes priority to accountability towards the general public, then a "white lie" may well be an acceptable means for an individual to advance their interests, or save the face of the association.
I think that at this level, lying is widespread and embedded in the Japanese culture, and that is exactly what is happening at Tepco and Olympus.
Debito Arudou's most recent Just Be Cause column is entirely out of character from most of his previous writings. Arudou takes Japanese culture and society to task for being deceitful. Well, it needs to be asked, who is being implicated here? Arudou speaks with guarded ambiguity when he says, "consider how lies are deployed." We are forced to ask, by whom?
Japanese men or Japanese women? Japanese office workers or Japanese factory workers? Japanese entrepreneurs or Japanese bureaucrats? Japanese young or Japanese old? Single Japanese or married Japanese? Rich Japanese or poor Japanese? Zainichi Koreans or indigenous Ainu? Does Arudou include himself or not? Or is he somehow excluded? Is his analysis for Japanese Only?
On Sept. 19, 1999, Arudou took his two daughters to an onsen in Hokkaido. One of his daughters was denied entry because she looked foreign, while the other was told she could enter because she looked Japanese. I believe it was at this point that Arudou began to earnestly fight against discrimination in Japan.
He has waged a very long and hard battle here. One he should be commended for. So one must ask, when he says Japan is a culture of deceit, is he including one or both his daughters or neither? This is the problem one faces when they paint with a brush so broad.
The very idea of discrimination hinges on the idea that there is a group that can be singled out from others. There is a myth of Japanese homogeneity that Yoshio Sugimoto, in "An Introduction to Japanese Society," sets out to show is completely unwarranted, yet Arudou has now entered the foray as a purveyor of that myth. As Sugimoto notes, this myth is not dependent on any notion of race, but can be adequately conveyed via ideas about culture and society. Without the myth that Japanese are different in some way, the need for discrimination vanishes. So why does Arudou now want to perpetuate this myth?
Sugimoto has noted there are three largely unscientific arguments that figure into the entire perpetuation of this myth. The literature focuses on using: 1. key Japanese terms, 2. selected anecdotes, and 3. kotowaza (proverbs). It would appear Arudou is three for three here in his editorial.
As if this were not sufficient, the myth of Japanese as being deceitful has a long and notorious history. This is detailed in John W. Dower's "War Without Mercy," where I think the suggestion is that Japanese internment might not have been regarded as necessary if there hadn't been a concern over the honesty of the "Japanese" population in the U.S.
In general, the weakness of Japanese character has often been used as a justification by foreign powers for whatever actions they take toward Japan. Given the history here, are these ideas that The Japan Times wants to provide a forum for? Isn't Arudou basically just saying 'Japanese are a bunch of liars.' Really?
Debito Arudou again brings up a brilliant point, and gives me a new favorite word: obfuscation. I would like to congratulate him for it.
I don't know how destructive tatemae culture is to Japan itself — they seem to be doing fine — but it's a serious barrier to understanding and fitting into Japanese culture.
After years of living here, thinking Japanese people were unbelievably accommodating, friendly and unthreatening, I only recently realized how stupid I have been in thinking everyone is my friend.
"Everyone loves me," you think. Such an ego boost. Of course, the reality is that just like anywhere else, some people are and some aren't your friends. The difference is that Japanese are more likely to whip out the tatemae and pretend, to keep social harmony.
Growing up in a family and society where deception is frowned upon and makes you few friends, and then coming to a place where tatemae is considered a point of refinement and intelligence, is a difficult transition, particularly because it is a form of deception by Western standards. Of course it's nothing like deception by Japanese standards, where different — not deficient — morals and norms rule.
I see fresh foreigners all the time honestly delivering their feelings only to be played by their Japanese "friends," who are really being facetious, putting on a good face, perhaps looking for English conversation.
I don't put up with it. Still, I wonder and admire how Arudou puts himself on the line for the seemingly unreachable cause of changing Japanese ways.
日本にいる外国人、特にフィリピン人の目から見た宗教と教会の役割
****
Foreign residents and religion
Saturday, Dec. 24, 2011
By MARINA MIA CUNIN
Special to The Japan Times
NAGOYA — This month, two common questions were heard among many foreign residents here: "What are you doing for Christmas?" and "Are you going home or staying here?"
The questions are asked and answered in English, Spanish, Portuguese and Tagalog, to name but a few languages, and more often than not, the word "Christmas" is used, as opposed to "holiday" or "winter vacation." Although the underlying perception of "not having to work" is integral to these words or phrases, the specific use of the word "Christmas" demonstrates, to some extent, the significant place that a historically religious holiday holds for some foreign communities here in Japan.
While in Western societies observers have noted that Christmas has become more about families than faith, it could be argued, perhaps for the very reason of lack of family or extended family support, that some immigrants or foreign residents in Japan find Christmas to be the time in which they return to a childhood faith, albeit temporarily, or discover a new or renewed conviction in religion.
As one American colleague wryly noted: "I don't think I believe, but old habits are hard to break and I have to confess I look forward to singing along to Christmas carols because I'm reminded of my childhood. It's a piece of my old home in my new home. Also every year my mother will inevitably ask some version of 'What's the Christmas service like in Japan?' 'Does baby Jesus look Japanese?' She and everyone else I know back home just assume that I'll be going to church because that's what everyone does at Christmas, right?"
The withdrawal of institutional religion from its main position of influence within Western societies has often left the impression that religion has been "written off" or has no intrinsic social value in post-industrialized societies. Yet on a daily basis, religion still finds its place in the continuation of socio-cultural rituals and, even more notably, in the inevitable and invariably stressful situations of human experiences, such as death, suffering, loss and other forms of dramatic change.
It is perhaps in the latter situation of changing circumstances that immigrants and foreign residents often resurrect their religious selves. While some remain indifferent or even hostile to organized religion, there are others for whom religion provides some form of cultural continuity, as well as psychological benefit to the migratory trauma that can occur from moving from one country to another.
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From my initial research into religion as a form of social support for foreign communities in Japan, I spoke with a number of individuals who stated that they rediscovered religion out of an emotional need to connect with others who shared their experiences in Japan, such as:
"I've lived in Japan for 26 years. Before I came to Japan, I never believed. My husband is Japanese and is not religious so I did not have religion in my married life. I was lonely when I came here and started to remember my childhood. I came to this church one day to see other Europeans like me. I never stopped going from that day 22 years ago."
Similar to research findings in other countries, other individuals implied that through integrated religious practices, they were better able to stay connected with their culture: "Once a week, I attend a service in Tagalog. I hear my language and talk freely. I don't have to think in Japanese. We bring traditional food and have lunch together. On Sunday, I'm home, though I'm in Japan."
Notably, a significant proportion of people expressed an increased religiosity while living in Japan, which mirrors one of the immigrant experiences elsewhere: "Going to church has now become the most important and most enjoyable part of my week. I work and exist in between going to church. The community sustains me here in Japan. I never thought I would ever say or do such a thing before I came here."
Multicultural families, in particular, spoke of their religious beliefs with the support they received from church communities, whom they perceived to be more welcoming of diverse family structures: "It's important for my children to feel it's OK to be half-Japanese and half-African. In our church, the community is international and they (the children) feel happy because everyone is so friendly, more like family. They look forward to coming here every week and they can see other children who are like them, mixed. They know that God does not discriminate; only Japanese society does that."
I also observed that churches had a tendency to re-adjust some of their priorities because they are ministering to foreign communities. In addition to offering spiritual and emotional support as well as other traditional ministry services, they are also inclined to take an active part in providing specific social services for newcomers, such as offering free language classes and free anonymous health checks to all workers, documented or otherwise, by multilingual health professionals.
Some churches in a socioeconomic role have assisted foreign residents with networks in which to find employment. In the last few years, many individuals from neighboring Asian countries have been made redundant from Japanese companies, and churches have stepped in to help them: "When they made us leave our jobs with our company because of low orders, all of us foreign workers didn't know what to do. I have four children to support back home. I decided to stay in Japan. I got government benefits, but I had to move from my apartment. The church helped get me a room and helped me with everything else. I could get free health checks at the church because I was feeling very stressed with having no job. Everyone in the church was so kind to us because they understood our situation. Thanks to God and the church, I'm now working."
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Churches are also involved in supporting foreign wives who suffer from domestic violence and who may be apprehensive about approaching a Japanese social service to assist them: "I never went to church at home, but when I suffered from domestic violence, it was this church that helped me and my children. I didn't know what to do because my husband was Japanese. My friend, who was a Christian, told me she would ask her minister to help me. Her church helped me. They never asked me to convert. They helped me and then I told them I want to be a Christian and help other women like me in Japan."
Churches were also able to specifically assist foreign families affected by the 3/11 disaster. One Catholic nun noted that some foreign widows did not know how to cope with the situation: "Their husbands had passed away and sometimes the husband's family as well, so they were alone with their children." She observed that often there was an unspoken expectation from some Japanese social services that the foreign wives should return to their home countries and her response was "but this is their home now. Their children are born here, go to school here and speak Japanese. They can't take the children back to the Philippines; it would be a foreign country for them. The Japanese government provided everything material for people like temporary housing, but what they did not provide or maybe what they cannot provide is the counseling. That's what many foreign widows need, someone to listen to their stories about what happened to them. We go and visit them often so they know they are not alone."
In these respects and many more, it is not difficult to understand why some foreign residents turn to or, in many cases, return to religion and religious institutions to assist them with their spiritual, emotional and physical needs. Their religiosity is not only illustrating the individual desire to seek out explanations for life's ever-changing circumstances, but points to a real need for more social support mechanisms to be established for foreign residents and multicultural families in Japan.
So this week in Japan while an intense energy dominates Catholic, Protestant and Evangelical churches, as they work out their schedules for multilingual services and organize Christmas activities for children and families, many foreign residents will be filling the church pews, not only for Christian observation of a holy day but equally for a sense of home, some emotional and physical support, and a feeling of community: "I really look forward to the Christmas service, regardless of nationalities, our religion gives us a sense of belonging in a foreign land. Whenever we're at church, we feel that we're at home, that we're with our families."
Marina Mia Cunin, Ph.D., is currently researching religion as a form of social support for foreign communities and multicultural families in Japan.
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いつか人生を振り返って、いったい俺の今まではなんだったのか問いかける日がくる。
WHEN EAST MARRIES WEST
Some cups of revisionist history
Saturday, Jan. 14, 2012
By THOMAS DILLON, Japan Times
There's this guy I drink morning coffee with. Like me, he came to Japan as a young man and now wonders where the decades have flown. We sit at the window and watch the people rush past, so much like the years of our lives.
"I am thinking," he says, "of writing my memoirs."
Something — perhaps the way I spit out my coffee — tells him I'm surprised.
"What? You don't think I should?"
I put my shock into words. "You . . . can spell?"
"No, but that's why they made computers. And with my life, I'll fill an entire hard drive, I'm sure."
Shock part two: "You . . . had a life? I mean . . . one worth writing about?"
"Did I have a life!?" His words climb like a hot air balloon. "Did I have a life!?"
"Did you?"
"Did I!" And so he starts.
"When I first arrived, Westerners were so rare here we stood out like circus clowns. And soon every company and every school was eager to hire its very own clown. Anyone could get a job."
"Not like now," I comment.
"No, now people insist their clowns be trained. But back then Japan was a frontier. And we were all Daniel Boones."
"Daniel Boone circus clowns."
"That's right and I tell you . . ." He closes his eyes in a steamy remembrance. "I had to beat off the girls like flies."
I feel an urge to explain that Daniel Boone had that problem with bears, not girls. Instead, I offer . . .
"And we all know how flies like trash."
He opens his eyes. "Yes and I figure my girl stories alone will fill up two or three trashy chapters. Good for sales. And then I'll get into the real meat."
Which is?
"Before I arrived, Japan was a struggling nation, striving to rise from the ashes of war. And then I got here . . . and things got better."
"Right. In my case, I arrived late at night, and a few hours later the sun came up. But — would you believe it? — not one person gave me credit."
"Now wait . . ." He leans my way. "Are you saying my presence here had no effect?"
I lean back at him and weigh my words carefully. Before saying . . .
"Duuh."
He waves me off.
"Think what you want, but I believe that if I had stayed in America, my life would have been just as pivotal. Who knows what might have happened? We might have put a man on Mars. Or figured out nuclear fission. Or cloned Linda Ronstadt. The possibilities are endless and I plan to write them all."
I nod. "Oh I get it. Your memoirs won't really be about you, per se. They'll be about you in an alternate universe."
He nods back, but then corrects me. "Alternate universes. But mostly I'll focus on my alternate life in Japan. How I mastered the language, how I fit perfectly into Japanese society, how I aged gracefully here without a care in the world."
I see his game and get into it. "So . . . aren't you that guy who can read and write kanji backwards in his sleep?"
"Yes, that's me. But only in my sleep."
"And aren't you that guy who completely retooled the Japanese bureaucracy? No more alien registrations, no more reentry permits, no more desk clerks ruling the world."
"Yes, that's me. I think. To be sure, you'll have to fill out this form in triplicate and check back next week. Be sure that you stamp it right."
"And aren't you the guy who plans to retire at a beach house and live the life of Riley on interest income from his Japanese savings?"
"Yes, that's me. Only it won't be a 'house.' It will be more like a 'box.' And it won't be at the beach. It'll be in a high-rise. And it won't be life. It will be subsistence."
"So when's this book coming out? I'll want to grab a copy before they're gone."
"Well," he says. "I suppose I have to write it first. And before that I have to finish my coffee."
He takes a half-sip and we gaze out the window at the Tokyoites hiking past on the sidewalk, all with the zombie faces of the commuter dead.
"One day," he says, "all these people are going to wonder where their lives went, just like us. But do you know the difference?"
He has teed it up and now he swings away.
"They won't have our rich alternate pasts, those visions of what might have happened had we never come."
"Not true. Every life has its what ifs. No matter where you start."
"But they haven't had the twists of a life abroad. Where every day is a rip-snorter, packed with thrilling action."
Or so he says.
As we lean on our elbows, yawn, and watch the world zoom by.
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国際結婚の子女の日本の教育事情−アメリカンスクールか日本の公立学校か
****
アメリカンスクールに一票
THE ZEIT GIST
International education a triple-A investment in your child's — and Japan's — future
Tuesday, Jan. 10, 2012
By LISA JARDINE
Bicultural families are on the rise in Japan. In 1970, less than 6,000 "international marriages" — where one partner is non-Japanese — were registered, or 0.5 percent of the total. In 2000, the Ministry of Health, Labor and Welfare reported that one in 22, or 4.5 percent, of all marriages that year were between a Japanese and a foreigner. In Tokyo, it's now one in 10.
Parents of bicultural children in Japan often find themselves in educational limbo when choosing where to send their progeny: the traditional state school or one of the numerous international schools. And although expensive, an international education should be considered a triple-A investment in their children's future, as well as Japan's.
It's impossible to operate in the world today in isolation. Many international schools in Japan have as part of their mission the goal of creating global citizens.
Japan and its public schools tend not to be diverse — in fact, 98.6 percent of the student population is ethnically "pure" Japanese and 99 percent of them speak Japanese as their first language.
Looking to the future, if Japan is to compete in the global marketplace, it will need to diversify. And international schools have a valuable role to play in this process, says Sam Frearson-Tubito, admissions director at Tokyo International School. "International education gives the bicultural student an opportunity to experience and learn with many other 'like students' and open doors further to the international world."
Fitting in is essential in Japan, and bicultural kids are not immune to this desire. The chances of doing so are considerably better at an international school. Schools like Tokyo's Nishimachi International School and The American School in Japan (ASIJ) boast a student body comprising 20-25 percent bicultural students where one parent is Japanese. That number guarantees that students will interact with others like them, going through the same issues and challenges. Children who are comfortable in their own skin do better in school and don't have to worry about social pressure to conform.
International schools provide choice in education. Not only can students opt to take a second foreign language; in a school like The American School in Japan, students have over 100 different co-curricular programs to choose from, from kindergarten to 12th grade.
"Students are limited in the Japanese school system — you can only be passionate about the extracurricular programs they offer," explains Ed Ladd, the headmaster at ASIJ. "If you are a baseball player in Japan you choose a certain high school that focuses on baseball. At ASIJ, you can be the all-star goalie and get the lead in the spring musical."
Bicultural children living in Japan most likely have Japanese family nearby. This extended family adds cultural enrichment to the child's life and helps with their assimilation into Japanese society.
But there is another extended family to consider: that of the non-Japanese parent. They may live far away and only speak their native language. If the children are educated in the Japanese state system, their ability to communicate in the foreign language may be deficient — especially if the non-Japanese parent is at work for most of the day. The deep connection to these relatives may prove difficult to maintain. Education in an international school could help to alleviate this situation.
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Many parents of bicultural children work for international corporations where transfers to other countries are a fact of life. If a child is educated in the Japanese state system, it may make the transition to another country very difficult. Although it depends where they end up, it's most likely they will attend a school where English is the language of instruction. These children need versatility in their education to allow for an easy transition outside of Japan.
In addition, many parents choose an international education to give their kids the opportunity to study abroad after high school. Getting accepted at a university in America, the U.K. or Australia is more likely if the student has been educated at an international school in English.
But these bicultural kids also have the choice of attending university in Japan. Many bicultural students go on to study at Japanese universities such as Waseda, Sophia and Keio. In 2004 Waseda University launched the School of International Liberal Studies (SILS) with a multilingual bent focused on English. So even though they attended an international school, the choice to remain in Japan is not closed off after high school.
The current trend for Japanese high school graduates is to stay in Japan for university. "Once a voracious consumer of American higher education, Japan is becoming a nation of grass-eaters," The Washington Post's Blaine Harden noted in a 2010 article. "Undergraduate enrollment in U.S. universities has fallen 52 percent since 2000; graduate enrollment has dropped 27 percent."
And yet total enrollment from China has climbed 164 percent in the past decade. When Harvard President Drew Gilpin Faust visited Japan in March 2010, she met with students and educators who told her that Japanese young people are inward-looking, preferring the comfort of home.
Japan needs to turn around and look out — there's a whole big world out there that they need to play a bigger part in. The more the population stays put, the more it will limit the country.
Bicultural children educated in international schools who go on to university outside of Japan and then return home will bring this diversity back to Japan. "My advice to young Japanese is simple: Get out of Japan," advises Tadashi Yanai, CEO of Fast Retailing, in "Reimagining Japan: The Quest For a Future That Works." "One of our weaknesses is our ineptness at communicating with other cultures."
Rote learning — a technique focusing on memorization — is widely used in the Japanese state system. This method does not lend itself to creating out-of-the-box thinkers or leaders.
"Japanese students can recite facts but they often lack the analytical skills and resourcefulness that are crucial in today's global economy," warns Kumiko Makihara, a frequent contributor to The New York Times who writes of social and cultural trends in Japan, in "Reimagining Japan." International schools pride themselves on providing an environment that encourages creativity and inquisitiveness, two ingredients necessary for innovation and leadership.
Heang Chhor, a senior partner and head of the Japan office of McKinsey and Co., sums up the challenge for Japan: "Future prosperity depends in large part on transforming education. The (Japanese state school) system produces too many graduates who are not especially useful to Japanese companies struggling to compete globally."
For parents of bicultural students in Japan who yearn for their children to become global, inquisitive, passionate learners able to communicate with everyone in their extended family, an international school education is the right choice.
Lisa Jardine is a freelance writer and has four children, three of which attend ASIJ, the other UCLA.
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国際結婚の子女の日本の教育事情−アメリカンスクールか日本の公立学校か
****
日本の公立学校に一票
Local Japanese school is the obvious choice if you want your child to fit in
Tuesday, Jan. 10, 2012
By CHARLES LEWIS
The first day of elementary school, a milestone in a child's life, brings a mix of emotions for parents. The pride and joy of seeing their child taking his first steps into the world are tempered with feelings of anxiety in moms and dads everywhere.
Misgivings can be more intense for a parent living in a foreign country who knows little of the school system in their adopted land. The fact that their offspring will be acquiring a different set of values hits home. Sensational reports in the media of bullying, incompetent teachers and out-of-control classrooms add to their concerns.
Graham and Ayako Briggs, a British/Japanese couple raising two children in Japan, have a daughter in kindergarten. Like many international couples, they worry about the impending step up to elementary school.
"Due to the emphasis on rote memorization in Japanese education, I'm concerned about whether my daughter will learn enough of the basics in elementary school and have the logical skills to transfer to a school in the U.K. if I go back in the future," explained Graham.
Many foreign parents in Japan who want the best possible education for their child consider international schools. However, while many such institutions in Japan have long histories, good reputations and provide a quality education, they cater primarily to a transient student body. On the "Welcome" section of its home page, for example, the American School in Japan states: "Hailing from approximately 40 countries, the vast majority of our students and their families find themselves in Tokyo on temporary assignment."
Additionally, international schools are cost-prohibitive for many and too far away for those not centrally located. Some send their families back to their home countries so their children can attend school there while they continue working in Japan — not a viable option for those who believe education begins at home.
The reality for most foreign residents with mixed-race children is that they will be enrolling in the local elementary school along with the vast majority of regular Japanese families — something that may be difficult to accept even for those who have spent a considerable amount of time in Japan.
But it's important for worried parents to bear in mind that regardless of race and schooling, any child growing up in Japan — playing with Japanese kids, eating Japanese food, watching Japanese TV — will become thoroughly Japanese by default, and attending the local school with the other children in the neighborhood is the best way for him to fit in. And if you are a foreigner married to a Japanese, there's a 99 percent chance that the person you love and have decided to spend the rest of your life with is a product of the state education system, so it can't be all bad, right?
The current Japanese school system has its roots in the Meiji-Era rush to achieve economic and military parity with the West. A centralized education was seen as crucial to modernizing the country, and Japan achieved its postwar economic miracle with the current 6-3-3-4 system: six years of elementary school, three years of junior high school, three years of high school, and four years of university (with the first nine years being mandatory).
Although the Japanese school system has come under fire for a focus on rote learning over independent thinking, it also deserves much of the credit for making Japan into the country it is today. Japan has high literacy rates, the proportion of young adults with tertiary education is one of the highest among OECD countries, and 15-year-olds taking the PISA tests, which measure academic ability, continue to score high compared to many of their international counterparts.
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Japan's low crime rate can be partly attributed to the system whereby homeroom teachers are tasked with both the cognitive and personal development of students. Teachers are held accountable for their charges' actions, and are likely to be called to the police station if a student is detained for shoplifting, for example.
While valid complaints could be made about excessive conformity among Japanese, the high level of civility in society is arguably the tradeoff. Teachers play their part by maintaining close personal relationships with their students, organizing small group activities and delegating various adult responsibilities to students that prepare them for the future.
This aspect of Japanese schooling particularly impressed Alice Gordenker, who wrote a column in The Japan Times from April 2001 to December 2004 about sending her two American children to Japanese elementary school.
"My kids made friends in the neighborhood and had an easy commute. There was much more latitude for kids to be kids than in the American school in the USA from which they transferred," she explained. "They were encouraged and allowed to develop independence because Japanese schools teach children to become independent in an organized, careful way, including explicit instruction on how to walk to school on their own safely, how to pack for themselves for field trips, and how to care for their things."
The number of mixed-race children in Japan is increasing as international marriages become more common, but naturally parents of mixed-race children still have concerns that their children might be bullied because they look different.
"I'm worried about bullying and my daughter standing out," confided Ayako Briggs. "I realize the need to socialize is great, but I'm nervous everyone will remember my daughter because her face is different."
Bullying is of course a pervasive problem, but it's also a universal one. It is equally possible a child could be bullied if he went to a regular school in his foreign parent's home country, or an international school, and for myriad reasons other than ethnicity.
Foreign parents who are concerned about their children's schooling in Japan are able to attend "open house" events held several times a year, during which they can observe classes. Parents are also frequently invited into the school to attend lectures, observe club activities and participate in various other activities.
All Japanese elementary schools, and some junior high and high schools, also serve reasonably priced, delicious, healthy lunches to students. Many schools strive to provide fresh, locally produced food in season and offer explanations of the contents of lunches.
Students in Japanese schools are active and the P.E. program is robust, featuring a yearly sports festival open to families and the community. Clubs that include a variety of sports are common for 5th and 6th graders and extracurricular sports are available.
Elementary school is an excellent opportunity for both parent and child to integrate into the community and form bonds with neighbors. A home study program in the foreign parent's native tongue can help keep a child's second language sharp. Short trips back home and a longer homestay later are good ways for children to stay in touch with their foreign parent's culture.
Foreigners who keep an open mind, stay curious and remember that learning is a lifelong experience can deepen their understanding and appreciation of Japan as their children begin their journey through life at the local elementary school.
Charles Lewis is a freelance writer and has two children in Japanese elementary school.
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国際結婚の子女の日本の教育事情−アメリカンスクールか日本の公立学校か
Japan Timesの読者のコメント
Tuesday, Jan. 31, 2012
HAVE YOUR SAY
International vs. Japanese school: Which is top of class for mixed kids?
Some readers' thoughts on the dueling Jan. 10 Zeit Gist columns by Charles Lewis ("Local Japanese school is the obvious choice if you want your child to fit in") and Lisa Jardine ("International education a triple-A investment in your child's — and Japan's — future"):
Bicultural treasures likely to leave
WENDELA ELSEN
Tokyo
I agree with Lisa Jardine's comment that "bicultural children educated in international schools who go on to university outside of Japan and then return home will bring this diversity back to Japan." Very much agree — in theory, that is.
In practice, however, Japan's business world is not ready for this kind of diversity and these bicultural and bilingual treasures are currently being chased away, to find refuge with the very few truly global foreign multinational companies in Japan, or are going overseas.
We all know that Japan is in dire need of "going global." Just serving the domestic market is no longer an option. Running Japanese overseas units as if they are still in Japan is not a long-term solution, either. But change is so hard and we are still not convinced that the good old days will not come back if we are just patient and continue doing what we have been doing for the past 50 years.
Please, Japan, wake up. Those days are over!
In the eight years I have been in Japan, I have met many young bilingual/bicultural graduates. The stories I have heard from them are sad and show extremely poor talent management.
One fully bilingual and bicultural young Japanese man applied for a finance job in one of Mitsubishi's international departments. He was hired and put to work as a salesman in the domestic escalator business. He was looking for another job within a year.
One young Japanese lady in a consulting firm was never able to use her bilingual/bi-cultural skills and was told off for being "too international." She applied for another job after struggling for 1½ years and feeling weak because she could not work until 11 every night.
A young, Canadian-born bilingual Japanese graduate applied for a job in a truly global (multinational) company in Japan because he felt very unwelcome in the domestic companies that he had spoken with. The examples go on.
One of the reasons why fewer students are going abroad, apparently, is because domestic companies do not like hiring them. When they come back, they are too Westernized and cannot be molded into the Japanese young-graduate fix. They have an opinion, think for themselves, come with ideas to improve long-standing practices and, most appallingly, want work-life balance!
Clearly, these are not the kind of people that the domestic Japanese business world is looking for. They want people who conform, execute orders without questioning them and, most importantly, sit in the office until the boss has left. True commitment to the job is working long hours!
Again, in theory these young bicultural/bilingual people own the future and are the key to Japan getting a grip on its deteriorating economy and becoming truly global. Unfortunately, unlike in many Western countries, Japan is still ruled by the old generation and the young people have no voice.
Coming back to Lisa Jardine's recommendation, international education may be the right choice for bicultural students, but parents should be aware that their children will very likely not feel at home in the Japanese business world and will seek a career elsewhere.
So what's with all the cramming?
MIKE DEJONG
Tokyo
Mr. Lewis makes some good points in his article. However, he fails to account for the fact that Japanese schools do not adequately prepare students for university.
If they did, why do Japanese students as young as junior high school need to start "cramming" for university?
Children in Japan who hope to go on to postsecondary schooling must spend hours cramming for entrance exams, often several nights a week and weekends.
These cram schools do nothing but teach kids to memorize material that they will need to pass entrance exams. Many students tell me that the material is soon forgotten. Is this really a useful way for them to spend their time?
Is cramming also in the best interests of the child? Shouldn't children be enjoying time away from the classroom, on sports, hobbies, hanging with friends, family, etc.?
If Japanese schools are such a great option, why do kids need to cram?
Much more on this issue, please
MANUEL BRUGES
Kamakura, Kanagawa
I enjoyed the article by Charles Lewis, but it was too short.
For those living away from their country of origin (a large chunk of your readers), this article touches a deep part of ourselves — something most of us have already faced or most likely will be facing in the near future.
In just a few words, Charles did a wonderful job in clarifying some of the myths, but to give this article the same length as other "entertaining" features just to keep within the preplanned layout is a pity.
Hope one day you will tackle this same problem but in a longer and more detailed manner. Nevertheless, a great article, and I'm looking forward to seeing more.
Internationalization on the cheapC
HRIS FLYNN
Fukuoka
Lisa Jardine's article raised some interesting issues. I myself have raised three (bicultural) children in Japan, and I agree that an international education does open doors. However, I have been able to do this by sending my kids to the local Japanese public schools at a fraction of the cost of what the international schools charge.
Jardine quotes that 98.6 percent of kids at public schools are "ethnically 'pure' Japanese", but I'm pretty sure my kids are in that statistic because they have Japanese nationality. In fact, the percentage of bicultural kids at public schools is much higher than statistics lead us to believe.
For a fraction of the money I save (from not sending my kids to an international school) I have been sending them back to Australia in their holidays where they assimilate perfectly. I can't see how sending them to an international school would make them assimilate even better.
Club activities in public schools can lack variety, but this can be compensated for easily with parental involvement. I also think that the number of bicultural kids who are products of the public school system outnumber the number of international school kids in Waseda, Sophia and other "brand" universities mentioned.
However, the most important advantage of going to a local public school is growing up and going to school with the same kids in your neighborhood. Having a local community to belong to and support you may not add to your "internationalization," but it doesn't stop you getting an international education.
As far as I'm concerned my kids have got a triple-A education, without the huge investment.
A good article from Lisa Jardine, but one thing you have forgotten to mention is the citizenship laws here in Japan. You've mentioned the advantages for Japan to have bilingual kids, but at one point in life these kids must decide on where they will be living.
I have a bicultural child. She has dual citizenship now but she will need to select one or the other soon. As you may be aware, Japan does not allow dual citizenship after 21 years old.
Also, life for most of the "halfs" (ridiculous name, by the way) isn't easy. Japanese still regards them as gaijin. If you live in a small town, having a Japanese boyfriend or girlfriend as a "half" is almost mission impossible. I have met a lot of halfs that have decided to be Japanese, and most of them complain about discrimination, difficulties in finding work (not all of them become celebrities), relationships, marriages. My question is, why should they choose to stay here and be discriminated against and lose their second citizenship?
Sadly, I have advised my daughter not to choose Japan as her only citizenship due to future hardships she might face. How do you explain to your crying kid that Japan is also her country? People still call her "gaijin." Explain to her how a Japanese citizen can still be called "gaijin." What is the point of trying to fit in?
Life is hard for those who are "half." Until it changes its immigration and citizenship rules, Japan will remain in the same limbo it is in now.
Send all your comments on this issue and story ideas to community@japantimes.co.jp
日本をほめることが日本滞在外国人の賢い生活成功法。
****
These are a few of my favorite things about Japan
Tuesday, Feb. 7, 2012 By DEBITO ARUDOU
The Just Be Cause column has been running now for four years (thanks for reading!), and I've noticed something peculiar: how commentators are pressured to say "nice" stuff about Japan.
If you don't, you get criticized for an apparent "lack of balance" — as if one has to pay homage to the gods of cultural relativism (as an outsider) or tribal commonalities (as an insider).
This pressure isn't found in every society. Britain, for example, has a media tradition (as far back as Jonathan Swift, William Hogarth and George Cruikshank) where critics can be unapologetically critical, even savage, towards authority (check out Private Eye magazine).
But in Japan, where satire is shallow and sarcasm isn't a means of social analysis, we are compelled to blunt our critique with pat niceties. Our media spends more time reporting nice, safe things (like how to cook and eat) than encouraging critical thinking.
Likewise, Just Be Cause gets comments of the "If Debito hates Japan so much, why does the JT keep publishing him?" ilk — as if nobody ever criticizes Japan out of love (if we critics didn't care about this place, we wouldn't bother).
Moreover, why must we say something nice about a place that hasn't been all that nice to its residents over the past, oh, two stagnant decades (even more so since the Fukushima nuclear disaster)? Japan, like everywhere else, has problems that warrant attention, and this column is trying to address some of them.
Still, as thanks to the readership (and my editor, constantly put off his beer defending me in bars), I'll succumb and say something nice about Japan for a change. In fact, I'll give not one, but 10 reasons why I like Japan — enough to have learned the language, married, had children, bought property, taken citizenship and lived here nearly a quarter-century.
Leaving out things like cars, semiconductors, consumer electronics, steel, etc. (which have been written about to death), Japan is peerless at:
10. Public transport
Overseas, I've often found myself saying, "Curses! I can't get there without a car!" but even in Hokkaido I could find a way (train, bus, taxi if necessary) to get practically anywhere, including the outback, given a reasonable amount of time.
How many cities the size of Tokyo can move millions around daily on infrastructure that is, even if overcrowded at times, relatively clean, safe and cheap? Not many.
9. Seafood
Japan's irradiated food chain notwithstanding (sorry, this has to be caveated), dining in Japan is high quality. It's actually difficult to have a bad meal — even school cafeterias are decent.
World-class cuisine is not unique to Japan (what with Chinese, Italian, Thai, Indian, French, etc.), but Japan does seafood best. No wonder: With a longer history of fishing than of animal husbandry, Japan has discovered how to make even algae delicious! Japanese eat more seafood than anyone else. Justifiably.
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8. Onomatopeia
I am a Japanese kanji nerd, but that's only the bureaucratic side of our language. Now try gitaigo and giseigo/giongo — Japanese onomatopoeic expressions. We all know gussuri and gakkari. But I have a tin ear for pori pori when scratching the inside of my nose, or rero rero when licking something, or gabiin when agape.
Japanese as a language is highly contextualized (say the wrong word and mandarins just sit on their hands) and full of confusing homophones, but the universe of expressiveness found in just a couple of repeated kana is something I doubt I will ever master. My loss.
7. Packaging
Stores like Mitsukoshi cocoon your purchase in more paper and plastic than necessary. But when you really need that cocoon, such as when transporting stuff, you're mollycoddled. Japanese post offices offer boxes and tape for cheap or free. Or try the private-sector truckers, like Yamato or Pelican, whom I would even trust with bubble-wrapping and shipping a chandelier (and for a reasonable price, too).
If you don't know how to pack, leave it to the experts — it's part of the service. As Mitsukoshi demonstrates, if it's not packaged properly, it's not presentable in Japan.
6. Calligraphic goods
I'm used to crappy Bic ballpoint pens that seize up in the same groove (and inexplicably only in that groove, no matter how many times you retrace), which you then summarily discard like used toothbrushes. But in Japan, writing implements are keepers, combining quality with punctiliousness.
People prowl stationery stores for new models (with special buttons to advance the pencil lead, twirl cartridges for multiple colors, or multicolored ink that comes out like Aquafresh toothpaste) spotted in specialty stationery magazines (seriously!). Maybe this is not so mysterious considering how precisely one has to write kanji — but I know of only two countries that put this fine a point on pens: Germany (whose companies have a huge market here) and Japan.
5. Group projects
Yes, working in groups can make situations inflexible and slow. But when things work here, they really work, especially when a project calls for an automatic division of labor.
For example, when I was politically active in a small Hokkaido town, we would rent a room for a public meeting. Beforehand, without ever being asked, people would come early to set things up. Afterward, attendees would put everything back before going home.
I've done presentations overseas and the attitude is more, "Hey, you take care of the chairs — what are we paying you for?" Sucks.
It's nice to be here, where pitching in often goes without saying, and everyone has a stake in keeping things clean and orderly.
4. Public toilets
Sure, public conveniences exist overseas, but they are frequently hard to track down (shoppers overseas must have enormous bladders) and when found, they can resemble a war zone.
Japan, however, generally keeps its toilets clean and unstinky. Comfortable, too. Sure, I hate it when I'm turtle-heading and can only find Japan's squatter types, but I also hate being trapped overseas in a stall where strangers can see my ankles under the door.
Besides, whenever I need a public time-out, I head for the nearest handicapped toilet and bivouac. Ah, a room to myself; it's a love hotel for my tuchus. And that's before mentioning the washlets, bidets, warmed toilet seats . . .
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3. Anime
I've been reading comic books since I was 2 years old, and have long admired Japanese animation and comic art. I can't resist anime's clean lines, sense of space and forcefulness, and storyboard style of narrative.
Once underrated overseas, Japan's comics are now one of our coolest cultural exports. Resistance is futile — watch the knockoffs on Cartoon Network (love "The Powerpuff Girls" and "Samurai Jack")!
Consider one knock-on benefit of a society so consumed by comic art: Japan's average standards for drawing are very high. I came from a society with an enormous standard deviation in artistic talent: You either get stick figures or Pat Oliphants. In Japan, however, contrast with the following example.
I once tested my university students on spatial vocabulary. I drew a room on the answer sheet and said, "Under the table, draw Doraemon." Amazingly, 98 of 100 students could draw a Doraemon that would infringe copyright — complete with propeller, collar bell, philtrum and whiskers.
Try getting people overseas to draw a recognizable Mickey Mouse, Felix the Cat or even just Snoopy and you'll see how comparatively under-practiced drawing skills tend to be outside Japan.
2. Silly cute
Nobody combines these two quite like Japan does — simultaneously campy, tacky and kitschy. Some pundits lament how the culture of cute has paved over genuine time-tested Japanese iconography. But if you avoid being a curmudgeon, you'll wind up giggling despite yourself.
Where else are you going to get Marimokkori (algae balls with superhero capes and inguinal endowments)? Try resisting Hello Kitty when she's affecting regional dining habits or clothes (I love Pirika Kitty and supertacky Susukino Kitty, both homages to Hokkaido). And all those cellphone mascots! And there's plenty more crap out there, some finding markets overseas.
What's the appeal? My theory is that the Occident just can't do cute or silly without sarcasm seeping in (even Disney resorts to wise-cracking). Shooting for it include France's Barbapapa (which comes off as "easy to draw," not cute), Finland's weird Moomins (with that evil-looking Little My character) and Britain's even weirder Teletubbies (arguing its cuteness will give you a hernia; watch while stoned). They all could do with a cute J-makeover and a firm J-marketing push.
Look, campy, tacky and kitschy eventually become ironic, cheap and tiresome. But Japan's brand of straight-faced silly manages to (thanks to that intrinsic lack of sarcasm) remain tirelessly unironic. As long as you keep developing new and unexpected permutations, you never quite get sick of it. Instead you just giggle.
People need that. Silly-cute makes life in Japan and elsewhere more bearable.
1. Onsens
Of course. If you can get in. Ahem.
Illustrations by Chris Mackenzie. A version of this essay appeared in the now-defunct Sapporo Source magazine in December 2009; an expanded version can be found at www.debito.org/?p=2099. Debito Arudou's latest book is "In Appropriate" (www.debito.org/inappropriate.html) Twitter arudoudebito. Just Be Cause appears on the first Community Page of the month. Send comments and story ideas to community@japantimes.co.jp
A few of readers' favorite things; heated discussion on the burning issue of warmth
A selection of readers' responses to Debito Arudou's Feb. 7 Just Be Cause column, "These are a few of my favorite things about Japan":
Disrespecting the handicapped
As the father of a disabled child and fellow rights activist, I found it disappointing and more than a little hypocritical that one of Debito's favorite things about Japan is the ability to use facilities specifically designed for one of the most discriminated-against minority groups as his own personal "throne" with impunity. I can only imagine he is also thrilled that there is no enforcement of handicap parking violations.
Perhaps if there were fewer self-entitled "foreigners" taking what they want when they want it, Mr. Arudou would not have or need as many straw men to rail against.
His actions certainly put an experience my son and I recently had into perspective though.
While returning from Tokyo after lobbying Diet members on child custody issues, my son and I parked in a designated handicapped space in a rest area. Within seconds a young Japanese man tapped on my window and somewhat pointedly (or so I thought) told me the space was reserved for the disabled. When I politely showed him my permit and began suctioning my son, he became quite flustered, apologized and left.
Regrettably, my first thought was he would have never approached me if I was Japanese. Then I thought perhaps he just wanted to practice his English. Despite my initial irritation about his possible motives, I quickly realized I should just be grateful as he was ultimately protecting the handicapped, my family included, against people like Mr. Arudou (regardless of race or nationality).
For someone who readily cries foul at any slight, real or otherwise, Mr. Arudou might do well to remember actions speak louder than words.
CRAIG MORREY
Okazaki, Aichi
Debito in your pocket?
Love Arudou Debito's "Things I Love" opinion piece, and the illustrations. Will you be marketing a Debito key fob anytime soon?
Ten more things to love
Having lived almost a quarter of a century in Japan and now semi-retired in the U.S., I'd like to add my 10 things to love about this country to the list provided by Debito Arudou:
1. National health: If you're a resident, you can get good health care for modest fees, whatever your "pre-existing condition."
2. Taxes: Your employer deducts taxes from your pay without your having to endure the annual April 15 agony of filing them yourself.
3. Drivers: Japanese drivers are usually courteous, or at least don't think they own the road.
4. Pedestrians: With the no-turn-on-red rule, pedestrians are respected, not the targets of maniacs driving SUVs.
5. No tipping: The custom of tipping in the U.S. allows restaurants to pay waiters substandard wages, even when they charge $50 for a mediocre plate of pasta.
6. Fewer screwups: Service people usually do their jobs conscientiously and are polite — which makes them pleasant to deal with.
7. Food portions: They're usually moderate, making it easier to stay slim.
8. Public transport: As Debito says, it's great!
9. Quiet neighbors: In this shame society, people don't think waking people up in the middle of the night with their carousing is a basic human right.
10. Religion (or the lack of it): In secular Japan, your religious beliefs are your business, and your business only.
短期滞在者の外国人からみた日本の良い点。
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The list goes on, and on
In regard to Debito Arudou's Feb. 7 essay, I totally agree with everything on his list, but thought I'd add few of my own favorite things:
1. Early morning sunrise on a bright, sunny day at Yamanoka-ko with the snow-covered peak of Mount Fuji all aglow in red, pink and light purple. A marvel to behold.
2. World-class bakery shops everywhere!
3. Efficient table service in most restaurants, and no tipping.
4. A food culture second to none, perhaps the finest culinary traditions in all the world. And variety to match.
6. Himeji Castle during the cherry blossom season, or any season for that matter.
7. The honesty of most Japanese and the low crime rate.
8. Affordable health care!
9. Trains, trains, trains. Clean, comfortable and on time.
10. The splendor of an autumn sunset on the Inland Sea when all the world seems to be bathed in a golden, radiant sunlight.
11. The quiet on New Year's Eve, just before one hears the Buddhist temple bells ring 108 times. And the many bonfires and holiday meals.
12. Not having to own an automobile! Japan has such a fine network of public transportation that owning a car is sometimes an unnecessary financial burden, and often just an inconvenience. Japan is also bicycle-friendly, and I hope it always will be.
13. The mild winter weather in places like Tokyo.
14. NHK's many cultural and art-related programs.
15. Professional baseball games can end in a tie.
16. Litter-free sidewalks in most cities and towns.
17. The warmth and good cheer of so many Japanese! And their devotion to family and nakama.
18. Quality bookshops in Kanda, Tokyo.
19. Having sushi for breakfast in Tsukiji after touring the early morning market.
21. Having the opportunity to meet famous people from other countries or just getting a glimpse of them around Tokyo. One day I swear I saw the famous opera singer Luciano Pavarotti on the escalator at Isetan department store. I just waved. Had a chance to correspond with Walter Mondale when he was the U.S. ambassador to Japan.
22. The extraordinary Japanese scientists, engineers, doctors, academics, housewives — just all the ESL students in general that I met while teaching English in Japan. I miss teaching English very much.
23. The religious freedom in Japan. I mean there's no right-wing Christian evangelicals running around screaming in your ear that you must accept Jesus or else. Though I did have a nasty run-in with Soka Gakkai. I've recovered.
24. Very low-profile military forces in Japan who just quietly do their jobs. America is a garrison society by comparison with too much "hero worship" and jingoistic fever.
25. Seeing my letters published in The Japan Times from time to time.
26. A very fine bowl of rāmen on a cold winter eve.
27. Honda motorcycles (Kawasaki, too).
29. World-class Japanese models attired in kimono.
30. Suntory Hall.
31. The Japan Alps and Hokkaido's Daisetsu mountains.
32. Rural or mountain onsen in Hokkaido, far from the maddening crowd's ignoble strife.
33. Brand new tatami mats
34. A cool and relaxing soba shop on a hot, muggy summer day — enjoying a bowl of cold soba and washing it down with perfectly chilled mugs of beer.
35. Kinokuniya bookstore, foreign book section.
36. Wandering around Ueno and Nishi-Nippori in the autumn, many wonderful temples and art galleries along the way.
37. Snorkeling along the shore at Oshima Island.
38. Taking the car ferry from Niigata to Otaru and having my own private cabin!
39. The love and affection so many Japanese displayed towards my corgi when I was walking around Tokyo. Same goes for the golden retriever I cared for some years ago.
40. Japan's love of literature. There's a Japanese restaurant with authentic traditional foods at the Mark Twain home and museum in Hartford, Connecticut. Splendid museum and fine dining.
41. Those Japanese who are so multitalented, such as the Tsukuba Science City engineer I met years ago who also played the violin in the city's symphony orchestra, or the Japanese English teacher I once met who was a virtuoso at playing the classic guitar.
42. Hot summer afternoons and the sound of the fūrin bell ringing ever so faintly in the cooling breeze.
43. I could go on, but you get the idea!
What an extraordinary land Japan truly is, and an extraordinary culture. When I finally return in September, I know I'll be more at home than ever before.
Best of East and West
Why I still love Japan: The best of both worlds, via the eyes of one expat who left.
This is a topic that I often have trouble articulating to truly encapsulate my feelings. But I think I finally know why now, after living in Osaka for six years, and now back home for almost two. Japan really is the best of both worlds. You can have your ramen and slurp it, too.
Arriving in any big city, you will instantly notice the ubiquitous nature of American culture and influence: McDonald's, The Gap, Levi's, Polo Ralph Lauren and HP — you name it, you'll usually be able to find it.
You can watch a movie in the cinema in English, whilst the rest of the audience read the subtitles. If you teach English (as I did), you can go to work and speak your native language all day, and what's more, everyone will be glad that you did. You will be regarded as fascinating, and will be asked all kinds of questions about your lifestyle, interests or daily activities. You will usually be offered assistance by bank staff, nurses and shop staff whenever you look troubled.
As a foreigner, to some extent you get to live in your own little universe, kind of on the periphery of society. Whilst Japanese people are bound by strict conventions of their position within the social hierarchy and need be mindful of appropriate keigo, manners and gifts at various times, foreigners, on the other hand, generally do not.
Of course, if you are speaking with your boss in Japanese, you should certainly be respectful, but it is not expected that you would totally understand the complex nuances of keigo, and mistakes and lapses in protocol will usually be forgiven.
One can also experience and indulge in so many things that you cannot at home. The gorgeous autumn leaves and cherry blossoms of the changing seasons, spectacular temples and shrines, hot springs, wonderfully attentive customer service, punctual trains, a feeling of personal safety, convenience of knowing that if you need something you can get it at your local 24-hour convenience store, festivals, cultural days and a generally considerate and cohesive society.
Yet, despite Western influence, Japan still retains many of its traditions and much of its culture. Two of my favorite cultural aspects are koinobori, where wind socks are made by drawing carp patterns on paper or cloth, and can be seen fluttering in the wind, adorning houses from April until Children's Day in May. Carp are said to represent perseverance and courage, in the hope that male children will grow up healthy and strong.
The second are the various firework festivals that take place during summer, and the delightful visual splendor of girls wearing colorful summer kimonos called yukata, food stalls, spectacular fireworks and the feel-good atmosphere that prevails.
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You can immerse yourself as much as you want to — or don't want to — into Japanese society. If you want to make Japanese friends and speak Japanese most of the time, naturally you can do that. Any time you miss home, you can probably find a slice of it that's just enough to keep you sane.
For myself I guess, that's why I miss Japan the most, because I can't have my slice here. The trains don't run often enough and everything at the convenience store costs double. People don't form neat queues, and neighbors do play loud music at 12:30 in the morning. There are no hot springs, cherry blossoms, Uniqlo, nor equivalent cultural days.
I often that feel people are a little more self-indulgent here: It's more about the "I," whereas in Japan there is at least some consideration or awareness of others, and the "we" or "they." Little gestures like the elevator etiquette or the way Japanese people duck down when passing in front of you at a supermarket or DVD store do matter. It's nice to have a little bit of consideration.
But don't get me wrong, it's not all bad here either. Lovely parks and huge green open spaces, large houses, good social security, al fresco dining, family-friendly work policies, concerts that you can get tickets to, minimal overtime work, and no language stresses when buying a mobile phone or going to the hospital. I suppose that anyone who has lived in two different countries will have a list of things they like and don't like. For me though, admittedly my list entitled "Japan — the things I like" is longer.
So when I finally do return to Japan, I'll forgive the fact that I could count on one hand the amount of times I've seen grass in a year, that it's still 28 degrees at 2 a.m. in summer, zero degrees at the same time in winter, or that my 1K apartment was so small that I accidentally trod on my roommate's face once en route to the bathroom.
At least the toilet seat will be heated, and the neighbors will have the stereo turned down.
My Family Recipe Rocks Episodes
Chirba Chirba Dumpling Truck
Durham, North Carolina, is known for tobacco, a great minor-league baseball team and incredible southern food. It's also becoming known as one of the best places in the U.S. for the fast-growing Food Truck Movement. Joey spent the day with one of the new stars of this exciting food-scene in Durham, The Chirba Chirba Food Truck.
Meaning "eat, eat" in Mandarin Chinese, Team Chirba Chirba brings high quality Chinese-style dumplings made from an old-family recipe to the hungry lunch crowds of Raleigh/Durham. Joey rode on the truck and worked the fast-paced lunch hour mob along side the Chirba Chirba professionals.
Co-Owners Yin Song, Nate Adams, Ali Safavi and Chela Tu came together while students at University of North Carolina. Their love for Asian food and cultural connections to China prompted them to go into business together.
Twitter and Facebook are a large part of Chirba Chirba's marketing plan. They tell fans when and where the truck will be on the social media websites. Follow @ChirbaChirba on Twitter and check out their fan page on Facebook at facebook.com/chirbachirba.
For more information on Chirba Chirba visit their website at www.chirbachirba.com.
The Chirba Chirba truck is part of a larger, nation-wide food-truck movement that is sweeping the land.
To locate a local Food Truck in your area visit:
foodtrucksmap.com
mobimunch.com
For Chicago Food Trucks visit:
foodtruckfreak.com
For Washington DC Food Trucks visit:
foodtruckfiesta.com
For Los Angeles Food Trucks visit:
findlafoodtrucks.com
Can Tokyo learn from the American political 'matsuri'?
By Sandra Barron, Special to CNN updated 6:38 AM EDT, Tue April 24, 2012
Japanese elections are as a rule more civilized than their U.S. counterparts, but that doesn't stop them from enjoying the American political "matsuri."
Editor's note: This is the third in a series of dispatches exploring how the upcoming U.S. election is being seen in cities around the world. Sandra Barron is an American living in Tokyo, where she writes for Japan Pulse, the trend blog of The Japan Times.
(CNN) -- If the U.S. election race conjures up images of mud flying through the air for many Japanese, campaigning politicians in the Land of the Rising Sun evoke visions of a more white-gloved affair.
Japan's politics are as Machiavellian as anyone else's behind closed doors, but their public campaigns are demure compared to the United States -- and many in Tokyo are aghast at the negative campaign tactics used on the road to the White House.
Japan has plenty on its mind these days. The country is wrangling with questions about how to rebuild its tsunami-devastated coast, what to do with its idled nuclear reactors, and whether a tax hike will solve its economic woes, so it's no surprise if people in Tokyo aren't riveted to the lead-up to the U.S. elections.
But the U.S. is important to Japan's economy and to Japan's increasingly rocky relationship with North Korea, so people are not ignoring it completely -- even if U.S. politics falls somewhere below the 'retirement' of a young pop idol in the morning shows' news order.
For those not up on their Japanese pop, Atsuko Maeda's surprise announcement that she was leaving mega-pop idol group AKB48 in March got as much breathless coverage in Tokyo, maybe more, than Rick Santorum garnered in the U.S. press for his decision to exit stage right of the 2012 Republican primaries.
In the 2008 Democratic primaries, Japanese observers saw Hillary Clinton as a powerful and intriguing former first lady, but it was Barack Obama's historic run that got even more attention when a small coastal city that happened to bear his name formed the "Obama for Obama" support group.
Japan watched the group cheer as the Super Tuesday election results came in 2008. They still make sweet steamed bean buns, called manju, with Barack Obama's picture on them and have announced plans to erect a statue of him in town.
The idea that whoever won the 2008 Democratic nomination would make history was exciting for the Japanese. This time around, most people see the current field of Republican hopefuls as a noisy blur, an only-in-America phenomenon -- or a "matsuri," as one woman described it, in reference to Japan's colorful, oft-chaotic outdoor festivals.
The notion that American campaigning is a complicated "show" was mentioned repeatedly by the people I spoke to, and Twitter is filled with Japanese observers likening U.S. politics to "watching a movie".
One thing that adds to the unreality of it is the issues at play. While there are right-wing parties in Japan, their focus tends to be a noisy brand of nationalism, rather than the emphasis on religious values embraced by Republican candidates like Mitt Romney and Rick Santorum. The major newspapers have recently carried election primers on the role of Mormonism and evangelical Christianity in the election. One such piece asked: "What is this 'evangelical Christianity' we hear about in the U.S. elections?" Religion simply isn't as loud a voice in Japanese politics as it is in the American election race.
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Not that the U.S. has any kind of monopoly on noise. Rules dating back to the 1950s heavily restrict how Japanese politicians can campaign. These laws prevent candidates from taking to Twitter or updating their websites during the 12-day campaign period. In that short time, white-gloved candidates drive around waving from their campaign cars, repeating their names and asking for votes over loudspeakers attached to the car roofs.
Japanese candidates park their cars at intersections with heavy foot traffic and make speeches with microphones plugged into portable amps in front of some of the busiest train stations in the world. While small crowds do gather, people generally tolerate the racket only grudgingly. When a British man was arrested last spring for grabbing a microphone from a candidate in front of a train station in a Tokyo suburb and shouting, "Japanese elections are too noisy," he found an outpouring of support online from Japanese people who were also quietly fed up with the racket.
Many Japanese are intrigued by the idea of the U.S. candidates' debates. The handyman in my Tokyo flat complex told me the debates are the reason that he thinks the US election process is "better than Japan's."
"The debates are on TV, right? That gives everyone a chance to listen to the candidates, understand what they believe, and then make up their minds," he said. "We don't have anything like that, so we don't know as much about who the candidates actually are before we vote."
Those who watch the elections more closely view the debates and the hoopla around them more warily. One Japanese student told me: "What's good about the 'show' side of the debates is that it gets more people to watch. But ultimately you don't know if you're getting the candidate's own views or just hearing what his team of strategists came up with. It's easy for people to be manipulated by the politicians and the people behind them."
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Many Japanese people say that they don't fully understand the U.S. election system, and I am quick to reassure them that many of us Americans wouldn't want to be tested on it, either. But they have the sense that the American elections are more direct, and that the U.S. is therefore a more representative democracy.
Japan has a symbolic emperor and a parliament, and citizens do not directly elect their leader. There are no primaries; party leaders choose candidates. Since the campaign season is so short, they often look for candidates who will have good name recognition. This is why the less-powerful Upper House of the Diet often hosts a cast of minor celebrities including TV anchors, talk show commentators -- and even a handful of pro-wrestlers. The most colorful of these was Atsushi Onita, who didn't shy from mentioning his signature "thunder fire powerbomb" move in the Diet.
The need for name recognition is one reason why political seats are seemingly passed down within families. The handyman explained, "When a politician's son or daughter runs for office, we say, 'Oh, that's so-and-so's kid, he'll do,' without giving it too much more thought." He's clearly not the only one who thinks this way -- a study in 2009 found that a quarter of Diet members and almost half of the LDP legislators at the time were the children of former politicians.
Even if the American election itself seems inscrutable to Japanese voters, the result -- a leader who is in office for at least four years -- looks good. Japan has had four prime ministers since Obama won the 2008 election, and the margin for error is thin. The Ph.D. student says, "Fixed terms in the U.S. mean that even a sloppy start can be redeemed, but in Japan, they dissolve the Diet easily, so they can't recover from mistakes."
As Japan slowly rebuilds after the earthquake, calls are growing for a system with a stronger, more directly elected leader and a more efficient system of government. Japan will be looking at what parts of the U.S. system it might want to draw from and what it could improve. And until then, Tokyo will be looking up from its smartphones once in awhile at the American political matsuri.
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外国人からみた日本人の人種差別
JUST I can use chopsticks: the everyday 'microaggressions' that grind us down
By DEBITO ARUDOU
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Have you ever noticed how many interpersonal interactions in Japan are like "speed dates" of set questions?
For example, the taxi drivers who have the odd fascination about where you're from, whether you're married, how much you like Japan, and how hard you think the Japanese language is?
The barkeeps and clientele who try to slot you into their hackneyed preconceptions of some country and nationality, what you can and cannot eat, and (as things get drunker) how much you enjoy having physical liaisons with Japanese?
The neighbors who have a white-hot curiosity about how differently you raise your kids, what you fight with your spouse about, and how much you like Japan — regardless of how many years you've been interacting?
In the beginning, these were dismissible as just acts of awkward friendliness by people who didn't know how else to approach you. It at least made you really good in certain areas of Japanese conversation.
But after years of repeat games, boredom sets in, and you begin to realize two things: 1) that you can sleepwalk through most conversations, and 2) that, if you stay awake, you see there is a larger issue at play here: social control — something increasingly recognized by social psychologists as "microaggressions."
Microagressions, particularly those of a racialized nature, are, according to Dr. Derald Wing Sue in Psychology Today (Oct. 5, 2010), "the brief and everyday slights, insults, indignities, and denigrating messages sent to (visible minorities) by well-intentioned (members of an ethnic majority in a society) who are unaware of the hidden messages being communicated."
They include, in Japan's case, verbal cues (such as "You speak such good Japanese!" — after saying only a sentence or two — or "How long will you be in Japan?" regardless of whether a non-Japanese (NJ) might have lived the preponderance of their life here), nonverbal cues (people espying NJ and clutching their purse more tightly, or leaving the only empty train seat next to them), or environmental cues (media caricatures of NJ with exaggerated noses or excessive skin coloration, McDonald's "Mr. James" mascot (JBC, Sept. 1, 2009)).
Usually these are unconscious acts grounded in established discourses of interactions. Nobody "means" to make you feel alienated, different, out of place, or stereotyped.
But microaggressions are also subtle societal self-enforcement mechanisms to put people "in their place." For NJ, that "place" is usually the submissive status of "visitor" or "guest," with the Japanese questioner assuming the dominant position of "host" or "cultural representative of all Japan."
It's a powerful analytical tool. Now we have a word to describe why it gets discomfiting when people keep asking if you can use chopsticks (the assumption being that manual dexterity is linked to phenotype), or if you can eat nattō (same with taste buds), or if you'll be going "home" soon (meaning Japan is just a temporary stop in your life and you don't belong here). It can even help you realize why it's so difficult for the NJ long-termer to become a senpai in the workplace (since NJ subordination is so constant and renewed in daily interaction that it becomes normalized).
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Now let's consider microaggression's effects. Dr. Sue's research suggests that subtle "microinsults and microinvalidations are potentially more harmful (than overt, conscious acts of racism) because of their invisibility, which puts (visible minorities) in a psychological bind."
For example, indicate that you dislike being treated this way and the aggressor will be confused; after all, the latter meant no harm, so therefore the NJ must just be overly "sensitive" — and therefore also "troublesome" to deal with. Resistance is not futile; it is in fact counterproductive.
Yet do nothing and research suggests that "aggressees" become psychologically drained over time by having to constantly question the validity of their position and devote energy to dealing with this normalized (and after a while, predictable) "othering" that nobody else (except — shudder — the alienated NJ barflies) seems to understand.
So in come the coping strategies. Some long-termers cultivate a circle of close friends (hopefully Japanese, but rarely so: JBC, Aug. 2, 2011), others just become hermits and keep to themselves. But those are temporary solutions. Sooner or later you have to take a taxi, deal with a restaurateur, have words with your neighbors.
And then, like it does for the hikikomori (the "shut-ins," who are also victims of other strains of microaggression), you begin to dread interacting with the outside world.
Therein lies the rub: Microaggressions have such power because they are invisible, the result of hegemonic social shorthand that sees people only at face value. But your being unable to protest them without coming off as paranoid means that the aggressor will never see that what they say might be taken as prejudiced or discriminatory.
The power of microaggression is perhaps a reason why activists like me occasion such venomous and obsessive criticism, even online stalkers.
I happen to fight the "big fights" (such as "Japanese Only" signs and rules, official propaganda about foreign crime). But I also fight microaggressions (the racist word "gaijin," the oddly destructive platitude of "ganbatte," the effects of NJ being addressed by name without a "san" attached), because after decades of experience I know where they lead to: perpetual subordinate status.
Alas, my actions to stem or deter this just make me look alarmist, reactionary and paranoid in the eyes of the critics (especially the NJ ones, who seem to think I'm somehow "spoiling" Japan for them), either because they haven't experienced these microaggressions for themselves, or because they live in denial.
"Know how to pick your battles," some decry. Fortunately, the battle is partially won, because now this dynamic of low-level aggression and "othering" is less invisible. We finally have a word in the English language (hopefully someday in Japanese too) to identify it, and social scientists endeavoring to quantify it.
Someday we just might be able to empower ourselves away from our own microaggressive self-policing of preconception and prejudice. And we will gain the appropriate respect for those brave enough to stand up to it. And at least the daily questions might become less boring!
Debito Arudou has written the Hokkaido section for the 20th edition of Fodor's Japan guidebook, which is out now. Twitter @arudoudebito. Just Be Cause appears on the first Community pages of the month. Send comments on this issue and story ideas to community@japantimes.co.jp
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The cultural nightmare faced by families of Western women who have died in Japan
By ALISON O'REILLY, Daily Mail UK
PUBLISHED: 20:11 EST, 26 May 2012 | UPDATED: 20:11 EST, 26 May 2012
The disappearances and murders of Western women in Japan have previously caused nightmares for their families as they struggled with language and cultural differences after travelling to the Asian nation in search of answers.
One of the most infamous killings involved 21-year-old English woman Lucie Blackman, who disappeared in 2000.
The former British Airways flight attendant had travelled to the country with her best friend on a 90-day tourist visa and got a job as a hostess at the Casablanca Club in Roppongi, one of the city’s largest entertainment districts.
On July 1, she told her roommate Louise Phillips that she was going to the beach with a customer – but she never returned.
In October, the police questioned businessman and serial rapist Joji Obara, 48, and he admitted meeting Ms Blackman but denied being involved in her disappearance.
After a long search, the police found parts of her body in a cave on a beach near Obara’s seaside home close to Tokyo in February 2001. Her remains flown back to England for burial.
It would take seven years before Obara was found guilty of dismembering Ms Blackman and abandoning her body. He is currently serving a life sentence. Her family spent tens of thousands trying to locate her and was scarred by her loss and the trial, watched by the ‘eyes of the world’, her father later said.
Obara was also convicted of murdering an Australian girl, Carita Ridgway, in 1992.
Another notorious murder of a Western woman in Japan came a few years later in 2006, when Leeds University student Lindsay Ann Hawker travelled to the country to teach English. Five months later, her body was found in a bath full of sand in a fourth-floor apartment.
Tatsuya Ichihashi, 32, was arrested in Osaka in November 2009. Ichihashi admitted raping Ms Hawker and causing her death but said he did not intend to kill her. He was sentenced to life imprisonment.
In October 2011, American military wife Kelli Cribbs-Abad, 27, went missing from Kadena Air Base in Okinawa.
Her mother, Janice, travelled to Japan but said her dealings with authorities left her with more questions than answers.
‘They didn’t find anything, not even Kelli’s shoe, not a piece of her clothing – nothing,’ she said in one interview.
アイルランドと日本とアメリカの３国間での人間・家族模様。日本の代名詞・東京で、アメリカの人気ミュージシャンＮＭコンサートが絡み、しかも業界でちょっと名前がしられたＮＭのバックダンサーが容疑者の一人。まだ事件が起こったばかりで余波は小さい。関係者は日本警察の動きを見守っている状態だ。だがニュースが広がり、国際的に注目されるのではないか。日本の警察・行政の外国人への対応や情報公開・報道の仕方や留学生の安全性、日米文化論、アメリカの黒人問題、アメリカラッパーの若者文化論等、事件が意外な方向に向かう気配を感じる。国際間やアメリカ国内で大きな議論が今後起こると予想される。
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Police: 2 Americans Arrested After Death Of Irish Woman In Tokyo Hotel Room
Sun 11:15 AM, May 27, 2012A Reporter: CNN, Posted by Chelsey Moran
Tokyo (CNN) -- Police have detained two American men as part of an investigation into the strangling death of an Irish exchange student in Tokyo, Japanese authorities said Sunday.
Nicola Furlong, 21, was found dead in a hotel room with one of the men, according to Tokyo police.
The men were not charged in Furlong's death. Rather, police arrested the men on suspicion of improperly touching Furlong's friend in a taxi early Thursday, as the four headed back to the hotel, authorities said.
Authorities would not say how the four ended up together, but Japanese media reported that the women were attending a Nicki Minaj concert in Tokyo when they met the men and decided to accompany them to their hotel rooms.
Police said both men in custody were entertainers -- a 19-year-old musician and a 23-year-old dancer -- but did not say if they were part of Minaj's entourage.
The hotel staff found Furlong unconscious after customers complained of loud noises coming from the room, police said.
When the staff got to the room, they found her in the room with the 19-year-old and called the fire department, Tokyo authorities said.
The death is believed to be as a result of suffocation by cervical compression, police said.
Furlong's parish priest, the Rev. Jim Fitzpatrick, described her as an "outgoing, bubbly sort of girl and very well liked," and said she was looking forward to coming home after having been in Japan since October.
"Everyone's a little devastated," in her close-knit rural community, which has only 300 or 400 families, he said.
"When the death of a young person happens, everybody knows and is in some way involved or concerned," he said. "When it happens in tragic circumstances and so far away from home, it has a double impact on people."
Her parents last spoke to her the day she died, he said.
She was "very close" to her siblings, particularly her sister Andrea, Fitzpatrick said.
The U.S. State Department confirmed the arrests, but could not provide additional details, citing privacy concerns.
