The “Cool Japan” You’ll Never See on TV
And the myth that foreigners can’t make Japanese friends
“Dad, your friends are so cool!” said my then 13-year-old son after meeting my old running buddies from Japan for the first time.
He said it with genuine surprise. For as hard as he tried, he couldn’t fathom the notion that anyone “cool” would ever be friends with the likes of me.
This all happened twenty-four years ago when, after more than a decade in the U.S., I finally brought my family back to Japan for a visit. My kids had heard lots of stories from me about my former life in Japan. My stories obviously fell short in capturing the coolness of my friends.
Gotta give my son props, though, his assessment was spot on. My Japanese friends really are the coolest people you’ll ever meet.
Maybe I’m getting sentimental in my old age, but looking back over my ten-year stint in Japan during the golden 1980s, I‘m overwhelmed with gratitude when I count all the kindnesses I received from the coolest friends a guy could ask for.
How Japan adopted me
It surprises me when foreign residents in Japan lament how difficult it is to make Japanese friends.
It was easy for me.
For some background, I was sent to Japan by the U.S. Navy in the late 1970s — kicking and screaming I might add. It was the last place I wanted to be, or so I thought at the time.
And yet, two and a half years later when my Navy enlistment was up, I was hopelessly smitten with Japan and all the cool new friends that came with it.
Instead of going back to the US and returning to civilian life like most normal American veterans, I took my discharge in Japan. My goal, to become fluent in Japanese.
My American roommate at the time, also in the Navy, was discharged on the same day. He had just married a Japanese lady, so new living arrangements were in the cards anyway. My friend chose the conventional route and took his bride back to the States, only to return to Japan five years later and never leave, so his route wasn’t so conventional after all.
Desperate and unemployed, I needed to find work and shelter quickly, preferably with a compatible roommate who would split the rent with me.
The stars aligned one night at a bar in Yamato when I met Inoue Ken’ichi (a.k.a. “Keni”), a talented artist who played soulful guitar and made a living doing it. (For the full story on how we met, check out “Humility in a Culture that Rewards Tooting Your Own Horn”.)
A month before my Navy gig was up, Keni kindly invited me to move in with him. For the next four years, he would become my de facto Japanese-culture mentor.
In all, we lived together for four years and I had the time of my life. His influence will forever be tattooed on my soul. He became my big brother. He taught me that modesty was cool, that speaking polite Japanese would serve me well, and to pick up on subtle social cues that I’d have otherwise missed.
A Cheesy Japanese Lesson
When Keni and I would dine out together, I had a bad habit of ordering extra cheese on burgers, pizza, sandwiches, and just about anything that paired well with cheese.
Most Japanese folks don’t request extra condiments, as they tend to go with the flow and accept whatever the honorable chef offers up. (For those interested in Japanese dining customs, check out “Glimpses of Corporate Culture Through How We Dine”)
To be clear, I was more than happy to pay for the extra cheese. But I never vocalized this critical information and wasn’t sure how to say it properly anyway. (I thought adding a fee was a given!)
Thankfully, Keni clued me in and taught me the following phrase:
“Tsuika ryokin wo haraimasu node, chiizu wo takusan nosete kudasai!”
追加料金を払いますので、チーズを沢山のせてください。
(= “Extra cheese please, I’m happy to pay for it!”)
This still makes me laugh after all these years. How hopelessly American I was!
Too many other kindnesses from Keni to list here. Suffice it to say he opened up a whole new world of understanding about Japanese culture and, more importantly, introduced me to people in his tight circle who also became life-long friends.
But more important than any of that is that without Keni, I’d have never met my dear wife of 40 years.
Real Friends, Fake English Students
So many Japanese friends have had my back over the years.
In the immediate aftermath of my discharge from the Navy, yet more Japanese friends came to the rescue.
One friend, the Master of a bar that Keni and I frequented (the middle guy in the picture above), knew I was struggling to make ends meet, so he fed me (often free of charge) until my situation stabilized. He also made sure his patrons knew I was available to teach English to anyone interested.
And when I started attending Japanese language school, these same patrons helped me with my Japanese homework while we drank, laughed, and made idiots of ourselves. Never had more fun in my life.
Several of these same patrons eventually became my English students, even though they weren’t much interested in learning English, something I didn’t realize at the time. My theory is they were kindly taking pity on the poor foreigner because they didn’t want me to fail. Truth is, without them, I’d never have lasted long enough to get financially stable and survive. How can you not love friends like this?
And as these friendships deepened and my situation stabilized, I eventually stopped charging them for English lessons and started hanging out with them full-time. The irony is that they ended up teaching me Japanese. Forty-plus years later, we are all still friends.
Can a foreigner get close to Japanese folks?
Absolutely, as long as you find the right group of people, make an effort to speak the language, study the culture, and are willing to adapt. It’s all about attitude. Are you looking for adventure, growth, friendship, and fun? Or are you exclusively hanging out with other foreigners and complaining about Japan?
I know many foreign residents here who have made wonderful Japanese friends, some in my own circle, proof it’s not just quirky old me.
Was luck involved in my good fortune? Absolutely. My wife still reminds me how lucky I was to cross paths with this kind, openhearted, fun-loving group of Japanese friends.
I count my lucky stars everyday.
Bonus clip: a blues tune Keni and I recently jammed together with our friends at Lydian Café in Atami. Enjoy!
© Tim Sullivan 2022
If stories about my cross-cultural triumphs and failures in Japan sound like fun, you can read all about ’em here.
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