rose coloured glasses
One aspect of Japan that I continue to be amazed by is the level of genuine kindness among its people. On my first day, after spending most of the afternoon lost in the public transit system (not to fault Japan’s public transit system, which is incredibly efficient, I’m just hopelessly unfamiliar) and arriving at the station (Shinjuku) from which I needed to walk to my apartment check-in building, I noticed an elderly busker nearby. Going back to the map in front of me that I didn’t understand, I started planning my route. It began and promptly ended with the red “You are here” icon on the map. This was going to be a long trip. Back to the busker.
Packing up his display for the day, he also noticed me, and asked me where I needed to go, (Anticipating something like this, I had already written down the address of the check-in building on my flight ticket, since my phone was dead at the time) and offered to help; his name was Hata. (His name may or may not have been Hata)
Hata then proceeded to walk me to my destination. Unbeknownst to him, I gave him a location that did not exist. ( I neglected to confirm the correct address by referring to what I had written down earlier on my flight ticket-which was in my back pocket. #jetlagged) Consequently, I was lost again, but this time, I had a friend.
After several (multiple) u-turns and short conversations with passing strangers, we managed to find the correct building, and upon arrival Hata even rode the elevator up with me to my floor before saying goodbye. All he wanted in exchange was a picture together. I have yet to see Hata again, but I try and look out for him whenever I’m in Shibuya station. Surprisingly, Hata is not the only person who has done that for me (one of many, in fact),
Tourists and immigrants (at least from my experience) don’t receive the same level of kindness in North America, especially from strangers, and least of all from street buskers, who are trying to collect money. However, Japan is also incredibly homogeneous, where only 1.5% of the population are foreign, and 0.6% are of non-Asian descent. I am aware that the Japanese are famous for their hospitality (among many other things), but would that be as so with a higher minority population? Not to discredit their culture, but when I visit Japan, I’m a novelty, something they may have only seen once in their lifetime, and may never see again (I’m black btw). If there were more of “me” already in Japan, ie more foreigners, (like in North America) reducing our allure and accompanying Japanese fascination, would I have received the same treatment? I’m not sure, but this is a question I hope I will be able to answer by the end of the summer. Regardless, the idea of novelty has been a popular theme for me during this trip.
To elaborate, in high school and more so in university, people frequently talked about going on trips around the world to explore and experience. Things like backpacking across the lush European countryside, living with strangers, hitchhiking, getting lost in the Paris city streets, or wandering through Tokyo (ha) were common points of discussion and idealization.
We thought we were so much better than people who just vacationed to these places, stayed in fancy hotels and confined themselves to them for the duration of their trip.But were we?
Do we travel to learn and explore, or are we only seeking a quick fix? A burst of “feel-good” because of the change of pace. A chance to experience something new, and leave before the special affects wear thin and we start feeling uncomfortable (buzzword!). At what point, or better, how, does one travel sustainably, where the goal is to actually learn, experience, reflect and connect with your new environment?
This is the longest period of time I’ve ever spent in a different continent, and I’m already starting to rethink my world view, particularly the idea of travelling and change. I’m striving to achieve a mental state where the initial novel affect of travelling is only the appetizer, but the real feast lies in the months and years spent learning, growing, and experiencing another culture. I’ve decided that I don’t want to see the world, I want to be of the world, and its people.
Why do you travel?
