I'm woonwe, so woonwe - JET Finds Friend Making Standard At An All Time Low
Oh, I remember my Japan honeymoon-period just like it was yesterday -- eyes brimming with expectation of meaningful, rewarding cultural exchange upon arrival. And when it came to the people of my new home, It was as if the entire town was fighting for my attention, and everybody wanted to be my friend. This lasted about a week, then I was quickly shut-off from my pseudo celebrity status.
Next, followed the enduring period of "shun-the-whitey." This was when reality finally caught up, and I was forced to realize that I was, in fact, veeery different here. I was the only non-Japanese face for miles. And, apparently, this made some quite uneasy in my presence.
For many, I was a breath of fresh air. Something new in an otherwise violently homogeneous community. An outsider who could help clue them in to the world beyond their own. Unfortunately, they were only about 10 in number. The other 2,490 couldn't give a shit less. At least, that has been my conclusion.
I had two basic choices: remain completely as I was and wallow in a frigid ostracized state for my remaining period in town; Or, pretend to be Japanese, a bit like a puppy who likes to sit in the driver side of an automobile, place his paws upon the steering wheel, and cause everybody to exclaim, "How cute. He's trying to drive like a person." I chose the puppy route. I would attempt to endear the other 2,490 to me. I would win their hearts. I would do things like relentlessly attempt to learn the language, observe their interactions and try to mimic the same. Be culturally sensitive. Become Japanese.
This didn't really work, either. But it was worth a shot, and I recommend the same to everyone. Because, really, what alternative do you have?
In the end, I still found the majority of folks would only interact with me if either physically forced to do so (like if I cornered them in the convenience store blocking any obvious escape routes, leaving them no choice but having to say "excuse me" in Japanese to get out), or if they were completely shit-faced drunk. Since physically cornering people in public places isn't the most tactful habit, I figured drinking with the locals would be the more prudent of the two. And, it's a lot more fun, as well.
Thus, began the dribbling alcoholic stage.
During this stage, interaction would shoot through the roof while drunk, then oddly fizzle back to its usual town-freak status when encountering the same people when sober. I was halfway there. If I could win their sober hearts as well, as opposed to only their intoxicated ones, I was in. Still haven't quite got there.
So, now, it's come down to one simple requirement for me to consider a new face for friend-promotion: you just have to talk to me. I really never envisioned it coming to this. But it has. Hell, you try living in the middle of nowhere in a foreign country and see how sane you stay after not having a shred of real interaction with another human being for months on end. Your friend making standard just might get as low, too. Actually, now that I think about it, it couldn't get any lower, could it? Unless, you decided mere eye contact was sufficient. But that's just crazy.
Next, followed the enduring period of "shun-the-whitey." This was when reality finally caught up, and I was forced to realize that I was, in fact, veeery different here. I was the only non-Japanese face for miles. And, apparently, this made some quite uneasy in my presence.
For many, I was a breath of fresh air. Something new in an otherwise violently homogeneous community. An outsider who could help clue them in to the world beyond their own. Unfortunately, they were only about 10 in number. The other 2,490 couldn't give a shit less. At least, that has been my conclusion.
I had two basic choices: remain completely as I was and wallow in a frigid ostracized state for my remaining period in town; Or, pretend to be Japanese, a bit like a puppy who likes to sit in the driver side of an automobile, place his paws upon the steering wheel, and cause everybody to exclaim, "How cute. He's trying to drive like a person." I chose the puppy route. I would attempt to endear the other 2,490 to me. I would win their hearts. I would do things like relentlessly attempt to learn the language, observe their interactions and try to mimic the same. Be culturally sensitive. Become Japanese.
This didn't really work, either. But it was worth a shot, and I recommend the same to everyone. Because, really, what alternative do you have?
In the end, I still found the majority of folks would only interact with me if either physically forced to do so (like if I cornered them in the convenience store blocking any obvious escape routes, leaving them no choice but having to say "excuse me" in Japanese to get out), or if they were completely shit-faced drunk. Since physically cornering people in public places isn't the most tactful habit, I figured drinking with the locals would be the more prudent of the two. And, it's a lot more fun, as well.
Thus, began the dribbling alcoholic stage.
During this stage, interaction would shoot through the roof while drunk, then oddly fizzle back to its usual town-freak status when encountering the same people when sober. I was halfway there. If I could win their sober hearts as well, as opposed to only their intoxicated ones, I was in. Still haven't quite got there.
So, now, it's come down to one simple requirement for me to consider a new face for friend-promotion: you just have to talk to me. I really never envisioned it coming to this. But it has. Hell, you try living in the middle of nowhere in a foreign country and see how sane you stay after not having a shred of real interaction with another human being for months on end. Your friend making standard just might get as low, too. Actually, now that I think about it, it couldn't get any lower, could it? Unless, you decided mere eye contact was sufficient. But that's just crazy.
posted by The Punisher: at 8:45 AM
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