Foreigners (gaijin)

I mentioned being aliens before.  I also brought up the Japanese word gaijin (foreigner) and that once gaijin, always gaijin.

Being gaijin is a double edged sword.  The downside is that you are like a walking zoo exhibit.  Nothing is better for your ego than frightening small children just by walking down the same aisle at the grocer store.  Except maybe having kids laugh at you hysterically for no apparent reason. 

It's not just kids.  Many adults will stare too.  You can read the looks on their faces. "Why is that guy here?"  "He must be an English teacher."  "What the...?"  and my personal favorite is the unabashed, full on double take.

The effect increases with the number of gaijin.  If you are alone, people tend to glance your way for a few seconds, then go on about their business.  If you get four gaijin in the same grocery store people have a much harder time hiding their reactions.  It's like an alien invasion (no, the alien puns will never get old for me).

Now I'm the sort of guy who likes to blend in.  I'd rather not draw attention to myself nor be the center of attention.  Good choice of countries to move to, eh?

So, the blank stares, children hiding behind their mothers' legs, the raucous laughter do have an upside:  we're gaijin.  We're not expected to get it.  Japan is a very polite society.  Half--if not more-- of my vocabulary is made up of polite greetings, requests, apologies, ways to dismiss myself, and pre-meal gratefulness.  There are phrases for all sorts of contexts and situations and I don't know the half of them.  Thankfully I'm not expected to.  Being a bearded white guy peoples' social expectations of me are very low. 

It's like a get out of alien quarantine free card.  Sort of.  See, the leeway we're granted is also sort of a dismissal.  When people say "He's gaijin," to themselves it's like us saying "Bless his heart."  Every day when I stumble through saying "osaki ni shitsurei shimasu (excuse my rudeness for interrupting you by leaving), it's like everyone in the room says to themselves, "He sure butchered that, bless his heart."

It can be a horribly awkward and isolating place to be in society.  Being able to laugh at yourself goes a long way.  It also helps that so many people are genuinely kind.  They help you figure out what you need.  They are patient when they ask you a question and all you can do is smile and shrug.

Do me a favor.  Next time you meet a foreigner, be the person who makes a good impression.  Be the person who comes to mind when they go back home and tell their friends how nice Americans are.  Take some time to get to know them, to help them, to learn a few words in their language.  If you feel awkward trying, just imagine how it feels for them without you.

Alien

No, Sigourney Weaver does not play a role in this post.  There are no acid bleeding, inner mouth biting, face sucking aliens in this post.  I'm talking legal alien.  Sort of the New York cab driver stereotype for alien.  You know, they don't speak our language, they don't understand our culture, and they do really awkward things sometimes.  That is closer to the type of alien I mean.

Well, now I'm it.  I'm the guy who doesn't speak the language, who doesn't understand the culture, and inadvertently does all sorts of rude things.  The Japanese word for foreigner is gaijin.  It is an interesting term.  If you don't look Japanese, your gaijin.  If you don't speak Japanese, your gaijin.  If you are Japanese, but you're just way too weird, your giajin.  These are the outsiders.  No matter how long you live here, no matter how well you integrate into society, you will always be gaijin.

Our first day here we went to the local city hall and registered as aliens.  We had to wait two weeks to get our Alien Registration Cards (typing that just made me think of "Men in Black," which is fairly apt, because sometimes people look at you like your an eight foot tall cockroach with googly eyes).  Until we recieved our official Alien Registration Cards, we couldn't open a bank account, get cell phones, or set up the internet.  Luckily the gas, water and electricity companies didn't require it.  April would've been a dark, cold, showerless month.

After the wait, we got our cards.  I am now an official alien.  I'm so proud I think my heart might burst out of my chest.