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When you are living each day in such a different place and culture, the day ends with you understanding and knowing a lot more - usually at the expense of feeling more confused and stupid than you did when you woke up.
Today was one of those days…
It began with 5 of the 6 Americans (there are six of us here right now in case I neglected to mention that) going to an indoor pool. There was an Olympic size pool, a figure eight pool with a current taking you around, and a third pool complete with two respectable water slides. We had a good time trying out each of the three. For the last hour, we stayed with the water slides trying to see how many rides we could do before the car came to pick us up. I enjoyed trying to flirt with the girl at the top of the slide. Her name was Myo and she’s 21. Our conversations after that were pretty limited considering the language barrier.
After the pool we came back for the evening. The church had its monthly festival so it was pretty busy around the complex. We kept to our own during this time as it is heavily ritualistic and we have close to no clue what’s going on.
Tonight they took us out to “Corona City.” Corona city is essentially several buildings with arcades (which are INSANE), bowling alleys, pool parlors, etc. When we go to places like this, the friendliness of the people inside decreases significantly. Maybe it’s because I’m used to living at a church where people are inherently kind and generous. Maybe it’s just the fast pace of being in a city. Either way, the patience level goes down with the locals and the need to communicate becomes much greater.
Our evening started off with some time in the arcade. There were several new and fun games to play that I have never seen in America. I am out of yen but I was able to borrow enough to play one game of Mario Kart. I got 2nd (of 4).
Next we went bowling. I didn’t do so great - we’ll leave it at that.
Finally we went to a pool hall/book store/internet cafe. The pool hall was upstairs and I was done with borrowing money from friends so I decided not to join. Turns out Ryan and Keith felt the same so we stayed downstairs while Matt and James went to play a few rounds. After walking around for a while, one of the female employees motioned for us to go upstairs with our friends. I guess they didn’t want us hanging around downstairs?
So we make our way up to the pool hall and find James and Matt. They seem to be enjoying their game but they told us a couple Japanese guys also playing pool were giving them a rough time. It seems they were trying to say, in very broken English, “No whites allowed.” Sure, they were just being jerks, but it really opened my eyes to how it feels to be looked at differently for my nationality and as a minority in this country. This was not the first time as we saw a sign in a store in the city that read, “Only Japanese may enter.” Granted, it did not seem like the kind of place we would want to go in anyway, but I have never experienced something like that in my life. Very interesting - it definitely did not make me feel good.
Anyway, I digress. As we are sitting watching our friends play pool, an employee walks over to the table and places three more receipts by James’ and Matt’s. We look at them and realize they want to charge the three of us for coming upstairs. Obviously there is a misunderstanding as they told us to come up and we aren’t playing pool. I develop a game plan and go downstairs and with the 5 words of Japanese I know that can apply to this specific situation, work everything out and we manage to leave with only James and Matt getting charged.
I walked away from the night feeling frustrated, but also accomplished. I felt good because I was able to fix the problem at the pool hall. This would not have been a slam dunk even if we were in America - meaning if language was no issue, trying to get out without paying more money would not have been incredibly easy. I felt good about that, but overall, frustrated at how difficult it is to go where we want and do what we want. I’m not talking about the minor touches of discrimination that we’ve experienced - overall the country is great at welcoming foreigners. What really is starting to frustrate me is how hard it is to communicate in any way. My Japanese is still very limited and I can’t read anything to save my life. Yes, I’ve only been here a month and it will get better - but next time you go anywhere, try imagining that you can’t understand anything anyone says or read a single sign that you see.
The country isn’t going to change, so it up to me if I want to become more comfortable getting around in public. I’m all about learning new things and getting better at whatever it is I’m doing, so I’m ready to take on the challenge.
There is a festival in town tomorrow complete with little trinket stands and plenty of food. I’m really looking forward to this!
-Chris
October 11th, 2007 at 8:22 am
Years ago, Kiki came to visit me in Richmond. Since she was in D.C. for a summer session, she took the bus down.
I’d been to the bus station once before (to put Mike on a coach to Florida) but I didn’t stay long, and I was outside the main facility most of the time.
This time, I was waiting inside for the better part of an hour for Kiki’s bus to arrive. I probably don’t need to tell you I was the only white boy there.
I looked around, trying to find someone who looked like me.
There wasn’t anyone.
Even though I have been conditioned all my life (like all people our age who grew up in similar circumstances) to embrace diversity and love my different-color brothers and sisters, right then and there, all I wanted to see was a familiar face.
Ironic, considering I was dating a black girl, at the time.
Kiki eventually arrived and we drove back home. I shared a joke with her about my panic at the bus station.
The visit, as it turned out, was not an especially happy one.
At one point, Kiks and I got into an argument . . . I don’t remember about what, exactly, but I do remember her talking about how alone she felt in Richmond, and how she didn’t think she’d ever belong among my family and friends.
I scoffed at this. Everyone loved Kiki, and I told her so. Hell, she was living proof that Papa Leone’s bunting baby boy wasn’t some sorta queer-ball.
Her retort made my balls and stomach fly up into my chest, like I had just ridden the first big drop of a very tall roller coaster:
“Remember how you felt at the bus station?” she asked.
I shut up after that.
Your “eye-opener,” while definitely a harsher experience, is in the same vein as my angst at the bus station.
But as you so sagaciously observed, the world is not going to change for us . . .