When you find yourself in another culture, it’s not only language barriers that can cause confusion. Each culture has its own way of conveying needs through non-verbal cues. When we misunderstand even one of these cues, it can oftentimes create an uncomfortable silence, or, even worse, make people angry. Here is just one of the many cultural cues that I have either done myself, or have witnessed when they happened to others.

<The Toilet Door>
A strange title for a cultural misunderstanding, isn’t it? The toilet door. If you’re a Westerner on the private side of that closed door, and you hear the sudden (and unexpected) KNOCK, KNOCK coming from the other side of the door, you are probably going to be annoyed. You may remain silent, (and angry) or you may even shout out; “Occupied!” but you are certainly not going to knock back. For the Westerner, the person knocking is being rude, intrusive and impatient. For the person doing the knocking (perhaps a Japanese or Korean person) they are only doing the right thing. They are checking the occupancy, and waiting for the KNOCK KNOCK to be returned. If the Westerner is new to the KNOCK KNOCK custom, they will more than likely not return the knock, and, when exiting the toilet, may even give a look of disdain to the knocker. The person doing the knocking has no idea why this Westerner is angry. Knocking is the polite thing to do.

In many public toilets in the West, the door to the cubicle does not go to the floor. In fact, there is a space of at least 40 ~ 50 centimeters between the floor and the door. It is easy to see if someone is inside or not, and therefore, no need to knock. My Japanese students in Canada felt the open space was too large, and that there was not enough privacy. However, they still did the KNOCK KNOCK even though they knew the toilet was occupied. It’s a habit, but it sure caused a few dirty looks. My co-workers, who had never been to Asia, wondered why the students would knock when it was so clear that someone was inside. I told them the easiest solution would be to simply give a gentle KNOCK KNOCK back, and they could finish their business in peace. A simple solution, but it took a few months for the habit to kick in.

So, for the Westerners in Japan, a gentle KNOCK KNOCK in return will grant you peace in your small space. For my students who make their way overseas, most times you simply have to peek for a pair of shoes under the door. If you see shoes, don’t knock, just wait, and your turn will come soon! Happy travels everyone. ：)

(Sarah)

You can’t have your cake and eat it too. This is a common English proverb that means you can’t have or want more than you can handle or deserve. In some cases it just means you can’t have it both ways. On one occasion, my wedding in fact, this proverb was especially true. During the reception, they brought out the wedding cake. It had three layers and looked amazing. It looked so wonderful that I almost didn’t want to eat it. As I walked closer, however, I realized I couldn’t eat it even if I had wanted to-for the cake was plastic! As it turns out, most Japanese wedding receptions have two wedding cakes. The first is a large multi-tiered cake that looks impressive, but only a small piece is real which the bride and groom cut. A second cake is in the kitchen, and this is what everyone eats. This was quite a shock to me because wedding cakes are quite special in American weddings. We even have a lot of interesting customs associated with them. For example, some couples take the top tier home with them, put it in a freezer (after covering it with plastic wrap, putting it in a zipper bag and placing it in a box), and eat it for their one-month or even one-year anniversary! We also sometimes give unmarried wedding guests a small box with a piece of wedding cake to take home with them. They are supposed to put the box under their pillow (it’s not a very big box so don’t worry about it being crushed) and then later they will dream about their future husband or wife. A more common tradition is for the bride and groom to cut the first piece of cake together to show their willingness to work together. Then they take a piece of cake in their hand and feed one another to show their willingness to share everything with their partner. As for us, we just cut the cake and smiled for the camera. I guess we really couldn’t have our cake and eat it too.

(John)

There are many cultural differences between the East (Japan, Korea, …) and the West (USA, UK, …), as you can read on this webpage. Have you every wondered about what makes both cultures so different? If we take some time to consider this question, one answer we may discover can help us better understand some of the stories here and smoothen awkward cultural moments in the future by shedding some light on ourselves as individuals.

Let’s start by digging a little deeper geographically and historically. Much of Far Eastern tradition, including Japanese, comes from China, such as kanji and rice. About 2500 years ago in that country there was a famous philosopher called Confucius (Koushi) who taught, among many other things, the importance of obeying authority so that daily activities in communities could run harmoniously. A lot of Western thought, on the other hand, comes from an ancient Greek philosopher called Plato who wrote about much of his teacher Socrates’ ideas which, also among other things, encouraged their students to question authority. The reason for this mentality was to let facts and logic, as opposed to an authority figure, lead us to the truth.

Now, let’s fast forward twenty-five centuries later and enter the English classroom in Japanese universities. Have you ever seen a Western teacher become frustrated because the students are not raising their hands to answer his/her questions? Have you ever felt too shy to correct the teacher when you knew s/he was wrong? Well, that is probably because the teacher is acting in a Socratic way and the student in a Confucian manner. So, the next time you encounter an awkward cultural moment with a Westerner, remember that since we like to be challenged, try to get in to the Western spirit of things by challenging yourself to think like us for just a moment. Who knows - you might actually enjoy the change in perspective and maybe even find the experience liberating!

(Mauro)

As a child Christmas was always a very special day. The excitement would start building as soon as the summer holidays ended and September began. As autumn turned into winter my sisters and I would talk non-stop about the presents we hoped to receive, then we would spend a lot of time having the same conversation with our Mother in the hope that she would take the, not so subtle hints and buy us everything on our lists. Although a big part of it, receiving presents was not the only reason for our excitement, you see we knew that we would spend the day eating lovely food, wearing our new ‘Christmas clothes’ and playing with our new toys and just as we thought the day could not get any better we would get into the car and drive to my uncles house for a Christmas night party, lots of people, more food and our cousins to play with. Anyway with all this to look forward to, by the time Christmas Eve arrived we would be so excited that we could hardly sleep. We of course did manage to fall asleep but always woke my Mother up at about 6 in the morning so that we could run downstairs and see what presents were waiting for us under the tree. With so many wonderful memories it’s easy to understand why Christmas is important to me. I used to think that one of the downsides of living in Japan would be that Christmas would be too different for me to enjoy and of course in some ways it is very different. Christmas in Japan is seen by many as a romantic time for couples, people often eat chicken instead of turkey and in some families only small children get presents. How, I wondered, can I pass on that sense of excitement I used to feel in my childhood to my own children, when I live in a country where Christmas is not a major holiday? What I decided to do was to recreate the Christmases of my childhood and I think I have been fairly successful in doing so. Last year my son who is now four was so excited that on the 24th December he wouldn’t go to bed until we told him that Santa would not come if he stayed awake. The next morning he woke us all at 6:30am by jumping on the bed and shouting, ‘Mummy, Daddy wake up its Christmas!’ He spent the day wearing his new Christmas clothes and playing with his new toys. Later in the day we ate a big lunch with our friends and in the evening more friends arrived and we had an impromptu party. It was a good day and at the end of it I realized that some traditions can be celebrated in the same way wherever we are in the world．So who knows, maybe in the future you will find yourself celebrating the bean throwing ceremony or a Japanese style new year in England and even though it may be a little different, it will still be a special day for you.

(Avril)

I can still remember my first encounter with a lizard. I was in Indonesia, and I was unpacking my bags in the cheap guesthouse we had found advertised on a noticeboard at the airport. As I walked through into the bathroom, I caught a glimpse of something running across the ceiling. I shouted out to my friends and we all watched, astonished, as the gecko returned our gaze.

I’m still amazed every time I see a lizard run out from under a rock... and it happens quite often, right here on campus, especially in the warmer months. You see, where I come from you don’t really see a lot of them.

Not so long ago I came home and mentioned this to my wife. “I can’t really get over the fact I live in a country with lizards” I said. “Hmmmm” she replied, “I felt a bit like that when I saw the hedgehogs in your mum’s back garden”.

Where I come from we can watch hedgehogs, mice, squirrels and frogs playing in the back garden, from the kitchen window. If you are lucky, you might see a badger or a fox. I even saw a deer once, although I think she was a little lost. I saw all those animals last weekend in Nagoya too.... at Higashiyama zoo.

I miss my hedgehogs, but it’s pretty cool that I can see lizards on the way to work.

(Darren)

I prefer riding the subway to driving to work. So, whenever I can get ready early enough (which is rare!) I catch the subway from Kanayama station to Yagoto-Nisseki station. Listening to music, reading the ads hanging from the ceiling and just relaxing are some of the things I enjoy doing. Another thing I sometimes do is just observe people. You might even want to call it “people watching”.

Recently, I have noticed that there seem to be more foreigners on the subway. Maybe it’s because I don’t catch the subway that often or the train that I take heads towards three large universities. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised as the announcements on the subways are not only in Japanese and English but also in other languages such as Korean, Chinese and Portuguese.

According to the Prefectural homepage, over the past 15 years there has been a steady increase in the population of registered foreigners in the Aichi area. Presently just over three percent of residents are foreigners. Although the actual number of foreigners is approximately half of Tokyo the percentage is equal first.

One day as I was catching the subway home from Nanzan after a long day at work, I started to become drowsy. Suddenly the subway jolted on a curb causing my bag to fly off my shoulder and hit a blonde haired passenger in the back. The young man spun around and looked straight at me. I immediately apologized in English “Sorry. Are you OK?” And he replied “Daijobu desuyo. Kini shinaide kudasai” in perfect Japanese. It was just a fleeting moment but I was suddenly wide awake.

Nobody was injured but I was a little embarrassed at the short albeit unconscious exchange that had just taken place. I had assumed that the young Caucasian man was a native English speaker and he most probably thought that I was native Japanese because of my appearance. I didn’t feel bad but I hope I had not offended the young man. In hindsight I probably should have apologized in Japanese.

(Ken)

While teaching in Abu Dhabi in the UAE, I lived in a penthouse apartment on the outskirts of town. On one side of my apartment was the palm tree-lined main road that snaked its way into the city and on the other side, where I had an extended terrace was an empty, sandy plot of land.

On the weekends, I usually had breakfast on the terrace but on this particular weekend when I took my breakfast outside I could hear a lot of voices and animal noises below. I looked over and saw about 25 camels on the empty plot of land being herded into a holding pen along with many sheep. As I wondered what was going on, the next thing to arrive were a number of the biggest pots I had ever seen, huge mats and a lot of water cartons. The camels were then taken one by one and slaughtered on the mats. Their carcasses were then hung for the blood to drain away. This is the halal method of killing animals in order to eat them, a method practiced under the Islamic faith.

This process went on for three full days with more and more camels arriving each day. I later found out that the massive pots of camel stew they were making everyday was for a wedding party for a very rich Sheikh’s son. Apparently in the Middle-East, camel is a luxury and is top of the menu at such events. However delicious it was, I though am not sure I would have tried it considering the kitchen I saw below my apartment!

(Andy)

One thing which seems to differ, from culture to culture, is sleeping. This is not usually something one thinks about when they are young or single, but after having children it often seems to crop up in many conversations. Indeed one can paint a better picture about the respective culture from observing (not literally!) people’s sleeping patterns and behavior.

Japan is known (perhaps rather stereotypically) as a collectivist nation and this is certainly true in terms of the sleeping arrangements of family members. Children will almost always sleep in their parent’s room and usually in the next futon, or even the same one! On the other hand, sharing your bedroom with a young child will surprise many people in western countries. Western countries are known (stereotypically also) as rather more individualistic, and children are expected to sleep by themselves almost from birth. Interracial couples in Japan are often confronted with the dilemma about which custom to follow with their children.

Bathing children is similar. A westerner would likely not even think about getting into the bath with their children, whereas it is quite common in Japan. Often it is the duty of the father. Japanese people often ask me rather curiously how I manage to bath my children without getting into the bath. I reply that I only need to sit/stand next to it, and reach over. We usually look at each other and wonder why the other can’t see the obvious logic to our custom.

(Richard)

After you have stood in line waiting for the same morning train a hundred times, standing with the same people (more or less), or a hundred times passing on the road or sidewalk the same people every morning, it seems natural (to many of my culture) that a greeting of some kind is in order.

Greeting strangers that I have no intention of getting to know past the friendly hello is a part of my culture. Thus I regularly say good morning to a number of strangers on my way to work, people I will probably never be formally introduced to, people whose names I will never know. On my bike ride to the train station each morning, there’s a man I often pass who walks in the direction opposite that which I am going. I don’t know where he lives; I don’t know his name, his job, or anything about him. But after many times of passing him in silence, finally one morning I said good morning to him. Now when we see each other, we never fail to exchange that greeting, and always with a smile. Then on the train platform, there are two or three or four people I commonly see while waiting in line for the morning train that takes me into Nagoya. We always make a point of at least catching each other’s eye, giving a nod of greeting, or perhaps exchanging a few words. I say good morning to the road crossing guards near Nagoya University, and to the guards at the gates of Nanzan.

I don’t have to do any of these things: of course I have options. My culture doesn’t require me to say hello to strangers. I could shy away and stand aloof. I could wait for a freezing cold and dark morning, when we and everyone about us are in need of a little bit of warmth. But why wait for that?

(Brian HERSCHLER)

One problem when you are living in another culture is working out how typical your experience is. If you see somebody doing X, how do you know if this is typical behaviour or if this person is unusual? In my experience, one area where this is particularly difficult in Japan is regarding family. I mean things like the roles people play in families, the relationships between members of a family, the things family members do together and the way family members talk to each other.

Growing up in Britain, I had firsthand experience of my own family of course, but also of some other families. I spent lots of time at friend’s houses, and my family sometimes went on holiday together with other families. When I was a university student, I went to stay at friend’s houses sometimes for a weekend or during the holidays. This type of experience let me see some other families from the inside.

In Japan, however, I have not had this type of experience, perhaps because of the soto/uchi distinction. I’ve visited people’s houses, but feel that I have still only seen their public face, not how they truly are. In fact the only Japanese family I’ve ever seen from the inside is my wife’s. So I often wonder what typical family behaviour is. I assume that my wife’s family is normal and that other families are similar. But I don’t truly know because I have such limited experience from which I can make generalisations.

Despite what I said before, this type of problem also applies to one’s own country sometimes. People often ask me questions like: “Do people in the UK do X?” And my answer is often something like “Well, in my family yes. In other families . . . uh, I think so.”

This is why I always think you have to be careful about saying things like “In Japan we . . .” Do you really know what is typical in Japan? Japan is a much more diverse country than many people seem to believe: Think how different the climate and geography of Okinawa and Hokkaido are; Think how different people’s lifestyles are in the large cities and in the countryside; Think about the strong local identities people have in various parts of Japan (the pride people have in their area’s food, language and so on).

I think that if you go to live in another culture, you may discover that other people see you as a representative of your country. You, however, may feel that the only thing you represent is your own personal experience of life.

(Dale)

地図から日本が消えた瞬間、それは私にとって大きな変革の始まりとなりました。

大学3年生になったばかりの4月、私は念願かなってイギリス留学へと旅立ちました。初めてひとりで乗る飛行機、初めて向かう海外…そんなドキドキワクワクしている私を待ちわびていたものはいったいなんだったのでしょうか！？

名古屋空港から成田空港へ国内線で向かったものの、定刻から30分遅れて成田へ到着。ただでさえ乗り継ぎ時間が短い設定だったので、急いでイギリス行きの飛行機へ移動していると、誰かが私の名前を呼んでいる声がするような気が。「気のせい？聞き間違い？同姓同名？」と思っていると、なんとそれは私を探す地上係員の声であることが判明。「お客様が最後の搭乗者です！急いでください！」と、空港建物内を移動するカートに乗せられたのでした。

なんとか飛行機に乗り、無事離陸。これまでに起こったことを振り返って「オモシロイ体験ができたなぁ」なんて思ったり、フライトを楽しんだりと、余裕な私。しかしある瞬間、事態は急変。私の気持ちは飛行機の高度と反比例するかのごとく急降下したのでした。そう、地図から日本が消えたのです。

機内エンターテイメントのひとつとして、飛行機が今どこを飛んでいるのかを示すルートマップというものがあります。飛行機がイギリスに近づくにつれ、日本が遠ざかり、そしてついには画面上から日本が消えてしまいました。その瞬間、「もう引き返せない…これから1年間は日本に帰れない…」と感じてしまい、涙が止まりませんでした。

イギリス人の客室乗務員がとても優しく接してくれたのですが、パニック状態の私には“イギリス人に英語で話しかけられる”という状況が、日本ではない場所へひとりで向かっているという状況を思い知らされているようで、余計パニックに。そんな私を彼女は空席になっていたビジネスクラスへと案内してくれ、連日睡眠不足だった私はそこでしばらく眠り、ようやく落ち着きを取り戻すことができたのでした。

飛行機はイギリスのヒースロー空港へ到着。客室乗務員が空港の地上係員に連絡を取って迎えを寄こしてくれました。そして留学生に対して厳しいと評判の入国審査も、地上係員と一緒だったことも功を奏し、スムーズに通過。「やれやれ、ようやくイギリスへ入国だ」と思って預け入れてあった荷物を取りに行くと…私のスーツケースと傘が無い！地上係員と一緒に預け入れ荷物が出てくる場所を探したのですが、やはり見つからず。地上係員に促されて、航空会社の空港オフィスへ一緒に向かい、調べてもらったところ、なんと名古屋から成田へ向かう飛行機が遅れたこと、そして名古屋〜成田、成田〜ヒースローの航空会社が違ったことから、私の荷物がうまく飛行機に載せられなかったということが判明。結局、私のスーツケースは、私に遅れることおよそ1時間半でイギリス入りしたのでした。しかし傘は行方不明となり、残念ながら未だに見つかっていません。

そんなこんなでしたが、地上係員に別れ際に水とチョコレートとサンドイッチを買ってもらい、気を取り直してバスターミナルへ。そこからは留学先の大学への直通のバスがあると聞いていたからです。ところがバスターミナルへ向かうと、なんとそのバス路線は3月に廃線となっているとのこと。またしても壁にぶち当たった私はまたパニックしてしまいましたが、バス案内員がロンドン中心部でバスを乗り継いで行く方法を教えてくれたため、言われるがままバスに乗ってロンドン中心部へ。乗り継ぐバスが来るまで長い時間があったこと、そして疲れていたことから、ボーッとしていた私は、危うくバスを見過ごすところでした。しかしヒースロー空港のバス案内員が、私が乗り継ぐバスの運転手に連絡をしてくれていたため、運転手が私を探しだしてくれ、バスに乗ることができたのでした。

ようやく大学に辿り着いた…と思いきや、そのバスは町の中心部にあるバスターミナルまでしか行けない為、大学に行くにはそこで降りて、タクシーに乗らなくてはいけないとのこと。しかし夜9時を過ぎていたこともあってタクシー乗り場はもぬけの殻。どうしたらいいのかわからず、そしてもう泣く力すら無かった私は、ただひとり途方に暮れたのでした。しばらくするとタクシー乗り場に男性が現れ、「タクシーを待っているの？」と声をかけてきました。話をするとその男性は、私がまさに向かおうとする大学の学生であることが判明。そして私の状況を理解してくれたその男性は、自分が呼んだタクシーにタダで相乗りさせてくれたのです。そして長い長い旅路の末、ようやく大学に辿り着けたのでした。

地図から日本が消えた瞬間、それは私にとって、確かに留学生活の始まりでもありましたが、人間にとって思いやりや優しさ、親切な行動がどれだけ大事なのかということが身を持ってわかった瞬間でもありました。

ちなみに留学先に辿り着いた私は即バタンキューだったため、私のことを心配している親に連絡することをすっかり忘れていました。そのせいで日本ではちょっとした騒ぎになっていたそうです…！今となってはこれもまた、思いやりや優しさを実感した良い思い出です。

(Naoko)

Deciding what to call someone is not always easy. In my area of research, sociolinguistics, many studies have been conducted on how people address others, and how that reveals the power relations among them. For example, if A calls B “Mr. Jennings,” and B calls A “George,” then you can assume that B’s status is higher than A’s. Similarly, in Japanese, if A calls B “….. bucho” and B calls A “….. kun,” then you can assume B’s status is higher. What about this one? A calls B “Yamada-san” and B calls A “Bob-san.” Hmm. This is a common but problematic case, because, in this case, A is B’s boss.

It seems many Japanese people think it is perfectly okay and natural to call their American bosses (or clients) by their first names, for example, saying to your boss, “Hi, Kathy, how was the trip?” Is this really okay? Well, it depends.

In many Japanese companies, subordinates call their bosses with a status title, such as “kacho” “bucho” “kyokucho” “shacho,” etc. You often don’t even put their last names before the title. This custom of addressing supervisors makes the power differences in the workplace very clear. What many Japanese people misunderstand is that, because American businessmen often use their first names, there must be no or little hierarchical difference between them. The reality is the opposite.

So, let’s go back to the American workplace. Believe it or not, there are quite a number of American businessmen who do not prefer to be called by their first names, in which case, the boss may be addressed as “Mr. XXX,” “Ms. XXX,” etc. (In fact, only those who have been given “permission” can address their boss by their first names. This also indicates the power relations among the employees.) Many American supervisors do “allow” their subordinates to use their first name, but that is because hierarchical differences between them are very clear. That’s right. If you are in a subordinate position, you need to be “allowed” to use the boss’s first name, because your boss has the power to give permission. You can’t just choose to do so. Keep in mind that calling your teacher by their first name follows the same logic!

(Charlie)

My full name is John David Howrey.　My first name, John, used to be one of the most popular names for boys in the US, but not anymore. I suppose in Japan it is still a common name but only for dogs! My middle name is David but I rarely use my middle name except for when filling out government papers. Of course my middle name appears on all my official papers such as my driver’s license and passport but for the most part it is unused. The only time I ever really remember anyone using my middle name was my mother. Whenever she was upset with me, she would say in a slow but powerful voice "JOHN DAVID HOWREY". If she did that, I knew immediately that I was in trouble and that I should either apologize quickly or run away as fast as I could. Even now, if someone calls me by my full name I get slightly nervous and look around expecting to see my mother marching through the door asking me why I haven’t written to her lately.

In Japan middle names sometimes cause problems. People don’t know what to do with them. Sometimes first names and middle names are combined as if they were one name. My son also had another problem because his first and middle names are Jonah Masumi. Some people thought that Masumi was his Japanese name and that Jonah was just his English name, so they started calling him Masumi instead of Jonah. Jonah hated this because Masumi is usually a girl’s name, so he wanted to drop his middle name. I explained to him that middle names are a tradition in the US. Part of that tradition is that people usually don’t like their middle name because they were usually chosen to honor a grandparent or important aunt or uncle. But the good news is now his friends know what to call him , and he never hears anyone use his middle name, unless of course his mother or I get angry at him…

(John)

When I first came to Japan, I taught at high schools in Nishi Mikawa. One of the first differences I noticed between Japanese and Canadian classes was that not only did students sleep in class but that teachers let them! I asked a few of my co-workers about this phenomenon and some told me that it was natural because younger people need more sleep, while others understood what I was insinuating and replied that it should not be tolerated. Since I could not get a straight answer, I simply assumed that sleeping was culturally acceptable as I sometimes noticed it in meetings as well. Yet, even after living here for almost eight years now and having adapted (in my humble opinion) rather nicely on the whole, I still feel it is quite impolite when one of my students dozes in my class. Just two weeks ago, in fact, one of my third year English majors at another university where I work part-time fell asleep during one of my lectures. When I recorded the incident, he approached me about it after class claiming that if I penalize him for sleeping then I should also reward him for the more positive things he does! I was shocked for two reasons: 1) because a student was telling me, the teacher, how to grade my class; and 2) he didn’t think that his sleeping was a problem! So, at this point, I’d like to ask you, the reader, to tell me, the next time we speak, about what YOU think about sleeping in class - Is it acceptable or not?

(Mauro)

My first three years in Japan were in the Gifu countryside. Walking past rice fields on my way to one-room cram schools, I often encountered young school children on their way home from class. A typical reaction went something like this…

The group of students approaching me would be chatting and playing as they walked. One child would inevitably look up and see me. The chain reaction would then begin. The little girl or boy would stop dead in their tracks, staring at me as I walked towards the group. The others, unaware, would continue on their way. The one child, left behind, would run to catch up to the group, grabbing one of his or her friends by the sleeve while pointing at me. Now, two students would be standing still, mouths wide open, giving me their full attention. Then, the words:

“Oi! Gaijin-da!”

The rest of the group would stop, following the stares of their friends and see me walking towards them. More exclamations would follow:

“So! Gaijin-da!”

And then… the rush! I would soon have a group of seven or eight children crowding around me, all saying the same thing:

“Hello! Hello! America-jin desu ka?”

The first time it happened, I went to my school room and asked the Japanese teachers what the kids were saying. One teacher explained in perfect English;

“Sarah, it means you are foreign. Kind of like an ‘outsider’, you know?”

The happy feeling I’d had started to subside. Outsider? Me?

The second teacher came forward and sat beside me. Her English wasn’t excellent, but she did her best.

“Sarah, for kids, it is meaning ‘you are interesting!’”

I’m sure you can imagine whose translation I preferred. We all have choices when it comes to deciphering the realities presented to us, and I am always grateful that the second teacher could recognize the intent of the children and not simply the meaning of the word. Her English may have not been perfect, but she taught me a valuable lesson in language that I know I will never forget. (Thank you, Kayoko!)

(Sarah)

I love teaching! So I was very excited to get a chance to work on a course for university students who wanted to become English teachers too. I decided to teach a simple lesson, and then discuss it with the students to help them understand the process. My plan was to teach ‘can’, a nice and easy grammar point for young children.

I started off with a game children love to play called ‘hot potato’. The players throw a ball in a circle and call out words in a particular category. First, we tried fruit.

“banana (throw)....(catch) apple (throw)....(catch) orange.....”

Then we called out places, and finally the students shouted out animal names. It is an easy way to warm up and practice some simple vocabulary. Next we sat down and I introduced the grammar point of the day, we practised a little, and finished off by playing a game of twenty questions. The students each had an animal picture stuck on their back, and asked their partner questions to guess what it was.

“Can it fly?”

“Can it swim?”

“Can it eat a person?”

We all had a good time, and then we sat down to talk about the lesson. Maybe you have figured this out already, but can you see the connection between the first and the last parts of the lesson? Yes! The students reviewed lots of animal names, so when they got to the last activity they were better prepared.

Actually, some of the students were quite surprised when I explained this. And I realised that something obvious to me as a teacher is not always obvious to my students. They just did what I asked them to do without thinking. But a lesson is not just a collection of unrelated activities, it’s a series of activities building towards something. More than that, something you study in week four may be important in week nine!

So, since then I always try to explain why I am doing what I am doing in class. My message to you, as good learners, is that you should think about that too! Organise your papers, and look back at the end of each class to find the links. Reflect on the ways the middle part of today’s class was related to the beginning and end. If you follow the teacher but never think ‘WHY?’, then what do you think will happen?

Happy studying!

(Darren)

When I first came to Japan, one thing that struck me was that almost all my students used pencils to write with - back in Britain, nearly everyone uses pens, and pencils are typically used only for drawing. Watching my Japanese students writing with their pencils, I soon noticed if they made a mistake, they would always erase it and re-write it - back in Britain, people typically just cross out a mistake. I soon decided that mistakes are a big deal for people in Japan. But one thing you soon learn when you live in another country is that some of the ideas you have are wrong. It seemed to me that mistakes were a big deal, but I didn’t actually know if this was true or not. This was just my interpretation of what I was seeing.

At some point, I told a Japanese colleague about my idea, and he said I was wrong. He explained that people use pencils because they are better for writing Chinese characters. He said that with a pencil you can make a thin line or a thicker line by changing the angle at which you hold it, just like you can with a brush when doing calligraphy. I must admit that I wasn’t completely convinced by my colleague’s explanation, but it did make me think that my idea about mistakes might also be wrong.

Just recently, however, I have a new piece of evidence to support my idea. My daughter loves doing 'Spot the difference' puzzles, and I discovered that in Japanese they are called 間違い探し: Find the mistake. To me this makes no sense at all. Why is the difference called a mistake? It’s not a mistake; it’s just a difference. Aha, I thought, here it is again - mistakes really are a big deal for Japanese people. But I must admit, I’m still not 100 percent sure if I am right or not.

(Dale)

How drivers drive can show their character and I suppose in most cases their culture as well. Unfortunately, Aichi Prefecture has the dishonorable title of having the most annual traffic fatalities (5 years running) in Japan. Among the theories as to this phenomenon is that the wider lanes encourage people to drive at higher speeds than in other areas of Japan. There have been talks of stricter fines for drivers who commit infringements and tougher regulations for driving schools to make it more difficult for people to get licenses.

I learned how to drive in Brisbane, Australia where the roads are quite wide and where the general speed limit is about 10 kilometers faster than in Japan. It only took me two weeks to get my driver’s license and on my first day on the road my instructor directed me onto a high speed freeway. There are some sections of freeways in Brisbane that have 110 km/h signs for over fifty kilometers. Although it was a shocking way to be introduced to driving I survived and it gave me the confidence to drive.

When I drove in Tokyo I did feel that the roads were quite narrow so I was extra careful in suburban areas. There were a lot of cars but people were patient and waited their turn. In Osaka I had to be cautious of people who would step out into the street before the pedestrian light turns green. I have heard that the people from Osaka are always in a hurry to get to someplace. But because of this cars in Osaka would slow down on yellow lights. It seems that in Aichi for some people that yellow means accelerate. In Nagoya, I am extra watchful of my rear view mirror when stopping at a yellow light. I make it a point to slow down if the green light changes but occasionally the car behind me doesn’t have the same train of thought. In the past, people have honked their horns at me angrily. I have even been overtaken because I stepped on the brakes at a yellow light.

So far I have never had a traffic accident but have come close to being rear-ended on occasions because of my conscious driving. I am proud of my Gold status (no accidents, no infringements) on my Japanese driver’s license. In fact I may even have become a better driver here because of the many narrow streets that I have to navigate. But after living in the Chubu area for over fourteen years and being a driver for over eighteen years I think I can safely say that people have to slow down when the light is yellow. There was an effective slogan for the TH!NK campaign in England recently that helped British road deaths to fall under three thousand, the lowest in eighty years. “Kill your speed or live with it!” and I agree.

(Ken)

All countries have their own specific cultural traits that make them unique. However there are human traits that are the same no matter what nationality a person may be and one of these is the ability to be caring and kind towards strangers. ‘The milk of human kindness’ was a phrase originally used in the Shakespeare play, Macbeth. If someone is full of the milk of human kindness it means that they are caring and have compassion towards others. The reason I have used this title is because I’d like to talk about random acts of kindness that I have experienced in Japan where I live and on a holiday to Australia.

<Japan>
When I lived in Nagano I used to ride a bicycle with a basket on the front. I learned the hard way that it is unwise to ride a bike very fast downhill, in the dark, with a jacket in the basket. You see, I was unable to see that my jacket was falling out of the basket as I rode and becoming tangled in my front wheel. Inevitably the bike stopped moving. I flew over the handlebars and landed facedown in the concrete. I must have made quite a racket because a lady ran out of her house to investigate. When she saw me lying in the middle of the road, she screamed, because I had blood all over my face. Then she ran into the middle of the road and stopped a passing car. The driver kindly agreed to drive us to the hospital, where I got a couple of stitches and some painkillers. The lady that rescued me, stayed with me the entire time I got treatment and afterwards took me home. I am still so grateful to that woman for helping me get to a hospital and for looking after me. I am even more grateful that we are still friends

<Australia>
The first time I went abroad with my son, he was nine months old and I was so worried about flying with a baby by myself. How would I carry my bags? What if he cried for the entire 12 hour flight and most importantly, who would hold him while I went to the toilet? Well things began quite badly as my son began screaming before we even got on the plane and when we eventually boarded his crying just escalated. Just as I was about to I start crying myself a young Australian couple with a one year old boy approached me with a toy for my son to play with. They told me that they had travelled a lot with their young son and they reassured me that once we took off the baby would settle down. I was so grateful for their kind words, but they didn’t only help me with their advice they helped me with their actions too by holding my son when I went to the toilet, and when we disembarked they helped me to collect and carry my luggage. I felt that they really went out of their way to help me and for no other reason than to be kind to a mother travelling alone with a small baby.

I have only written about two examples here but I am so happy to say that I have received kindnesses in many of the places that I have visited, France, Spain, Belgium, and Jamaica to name a few. I suppose my point is that coming from different cultures does not mean that we can’t help one another. I am so grateful for the milk of human kindness and for the fact that we can find it in every country.

(Avril)

There are many cultural differences from country to country, but perhaps one of the biggest, has to do with gift giving. Everything from choosing what to give, deciding when to give it, and even opening it, can reflect on the people involved.

In Japan, often it is the actual gift giving that is important, and what is actually given is almost irrelevant. The souvenir from a trip, which all workers are expected to bring back, is an example of this. Often these gifts are local snacks, and fairly cheap. Usually they are bought at the station or during sightseeing. In many western countries, bringing back a small fairly inexpensive snack would of course make people happy, but many might wonder why the person bothered. Most westerners buy things on holiday as well, but usually for themselves or for family members. It would be almost unheard of for someone to buy something for their coworkers.

Opening gifts is also reflective of cultural differences. Naturally, having grown up in the west, I always thought that tearing open a gift, to eagerly see what was inside, was the way to show appreciation. Japanese culture is of course more concerned with how others feel, and therefore it is better to open the gift later, so as not to offend by showing the wrong reaction.

Despite these differences, there is of course one similarity the world over. Men everywhere know the helpless feeling, when, having asked their wife what she would like for her birthday/Christmas, she replies, “I don’t need anything”, or “you don’t need to get me anything”, which of course means the exact opposite!

(Richard)

What is a typical American name? It really depends upon who you ask. To middle aged people, names like Sarah or Nancy, John or George might easily come to mind, because when they went to school, these were among the commonest names. But when I returned to live in my country after many years living in Asia, and got a job at an American school, a difficulty I did not expect to encounter was with the names of my students. Now there was Athena and Aiden, Liam and Landon, Addyson and Khloe. These are among the most common names given to babies in America today. Seeing them on a list of student names before ever hearing them, I learned that first day of class a dread of taking attendance. For the first day or two, a few of these students were even correcting my pronunciation of their names.

Unfamiliar names are an important hurtle to overcome in any person’s first encounter with a new culture, a new language. The pronunciations can be a challenge, and remembering a person’s name when the name itself is also new is something a newcomer needs to adjust to. But when that country is your own, perhaps all you can say at the end of the day is that you really did leave home, never to return to the same place you left behind.

(Brian HERSCHLER)

Culture shock affects everyone differently but usually we associate it with issues like dealing with different food and weather, a strange language, a style of living that is new and the way local people interact with each other on a daily basis.

However, when I moved to the Middle-East after graduate school to take up my first teaching post as a grade four elementary school teacher, I thought I had prepared myself sufficiently for what lay ahead. Nevertheless, I was in for a massive shock when I started preparing my classroom for the new semester.

The head teacher came into my classroom during my first morning and gave me forty social studies textbooks that I was to give to the students. He also handed me a black permanent marker and told me to look through the books for any religious icons like temples, churches and crosses and to black them out. He also told me to black out anything to do with Israel, any pictures of bare-legged and bare-armed men and women and anything that I thought would be an insult to Islamic culture. With so many textbooks that little task took me a day to complete!

Then I was given a world map for my classroom wall and on closer inspection saw that the Mediterranean Sea extended all the way to the shores of Jordan. But wait a minute, Jordan is landlocked? Not if Israel doesn’t exist it isn’t! This map did not include Israel. It wasn’t blacked out or anything, it just wasn’t there. I was also under instruction to make sure that there was at least a 3 meter gap between the boys’ desks and the girls’ desks. If there wasn’t and the school was suddenly inspected by the mutaween (the Islamic religious police), then I might be taken to jail and the school could be closed down.

On the day before classes started I was informed not to give the local children homework. If they were given homework then they would not be able to meet and socialize with their family, uncles, aunts and cousins in the evening. Family socialization was more important than homework.

There were many more instances where religious factors and cultural assumptions about personal relationships had a significant effect on my teaching practice. Eventually, I got used to the system but I feel sorry for teachers moving to the Middle-East if they haven’t properly prepared themselves for what to expect.

(Andy)

Some of the intercultural surprises I have experienced had something to do with “soaps.” No, I am not talking about the fact that the US and Japan have similar soap operas on TV during afternoon hours sponsored by P&G, Lion, Kao, etc. I was surprised to realize that our TV viewing behaviors and social expectations are similar between the two countries, but today, I am talking about actual soaps and detergents. One of the shocking realizations I had was that you don’t die or get sick if you do not rinse off the dish washing soap completely. Growing up in Japan, I was taught by my parents and TV commercials that dish washing soaps are extremely harmful to one’s health. I firmly believed that the more effective the soap, the more dangerous. As a matter of fact, my brother and I used to chase cockroaches in the house with “Mama Lemon” or whatever dish washing soap was at hand, squirting the liquid over the cornered, shivering, panicky cockroach, grinning with satisfaction as we watched the slow death of the unwelcome creature. However, and quite surprisingly to me, Americans I have observed are pretty unconcerned about soap remnants on dishes. In the US, I was convinced I would end up dying if I kept eating off those “clean but unclean” plates… but I am still alive today. Maybe American dish soaps are not that harmful.

Another soap surprise… Did you know that some (or many) Americans do not always rinse off the soap after taking a bath? I am not talking about showers. When they take a shower, they do rinse the soap off their bodies. But when they take a bubble bath, the kind of soapy bath you see in the movies, they do not always rinse themselves afterward but just dry their soapy bodies with a towel. From a Japanese perspective, that is very interesting (or weird, to be more honest). Again, like the case with dishes, Americans don’t seem to mind soap remnants.

My last soap surprise... I have seen many Americans wiping their dining tables with a wet (and somewhat soapy) sponge! I have never seen Japanese people do that. We have always been taught to use a cleaning cloth that is very well wrung out so that no water or soap is left on the table. (Or is that just my family?) When I was living in the US, I found myself wiping the dining table with a clean, well wrung-out cloth after someone had “cleaned” it with a wet (soapy) sponge!

As my soapy stories suggest, what is “normal” in one culture may be seen as unique or even weird in a different culture. Cultural values are ingrained in us. First we have to realize there are different ways of doing and feeling the same thing, and then tell our brain that that is just a different way and not necessarily the wrong way. Having said that, now you know what to do if you see a cockroach!

(Charlie)

I had the opportunity to work at an International College in Vancouver, Canada for three years. As a student counsellor, I had many chances to watch as students from around the world would advance from stage to stage of culture shock. Basically, there are 5 stages, the first one being the “Honeymoon”, and this is when my students were happiest. Whether Japanese, Chinese, Argentinian or French, these honeymooners would be in love with all things related to their stay in Canada, from the choices of food available on multi-cultural Robson Street, to the mountain views from the school windows, to the teachers they saw every day at the college. For the honeymooners, Canada, its environment, and the English language all meant adventure, wonderful choices and countless learning opportunities.

When I begin each April here at Nanzan, my students appear to be in the same honeymoon stage as my overseas students in Canada. First-year Nanzan students are excited, happy, and, most importantly, eager to study and grasp at learning opportunities, all on a beautiful, tree-filled campus. Their happiness is infectious, and you can see it in the faces of their teachers as well. There is nothing that can make a teacher feel more worthwhile than having a class full of students who are ready, willing, and eager to learn.

But, lurking around the corner with irritating regularity is the next stage of culture shock. And, having taught at Nanzan now for a few years, I know that this thing called culture shock requires no airline tickets, no passports, and no currency exchange. Entering the next stage of culture shock is all about a change in mind and attitude; not in address.

What is the next stage? It is the ominously and aptly named “Crisis”. And that’s when my students, whether here or abroad, scatter in many directions. Some panic. Some let loose. Some go into extracurricular overload, spending more time on their club activities than on their homework . My students, who only a few weeks earlier walked around in wonder and excitement through the halls of Nanzan, become a little more lethargic and a lot less enthusiastic about their surroundings. The honeymoon is over, and, as a teacher who has witnessed it so many times, I can tell you that the disappointment is tangible. My job, at this point, is to get the fire going again, and to remind my students of this incredible experience we are priveleged to be a part of.

I would like to “remove the scales” from the eyes of my students, and have them experience once again the happiness of the honeymoon. To all students, and in particular my own Nanzan freshman, revel in this time. Experience the shock of Nanzan culture, both the good and the difficult, but never forget that even when the novelty wears off, this experience is one you will always remember. Whether that memory is a positive or negative one is up to you. Jump over the crisis stage and get quickly to that final stage, the one called “acceptance”. It will be worth the trip!

(Sarah)

I’ve been asked this question often in Japan. When I tell Japanese people my blood-type, I often get oohs and aahs as if I have just revealed something about myself that was surprising. Some people nod as if they have learned something about me that explains my behavior. Other people say hmmm and look at me strangely as if I have become a different person.

Having lived in Japan for many years I now understand that Japanese often link blood-type with personality. I find this interest in blood-type curious because rarely do Japanese people guess my blood-type correctly. They usually say I am A, but that’s not true. Then they say O, but that’s also not correct. When they look surprised, I start to wonder why they thought I was A in the first place.

In the United States we have almost no interest in blood-type. In fact, most Americans don’t know their blood-type until they start driving because our driver’s license lists our blood-type in case we get in an accident. People who donate blood will also get a blood donor card which lists their blood-type. However, we usually don’t pay much attention to this information.

Instead of blood-type, we think birth order can influence personality. This means we consider whether you were the first born, a middle child, the last born or an only child as having an affect on your personality. Instead of saying things like, “Well that’s because he is blood-type A,” we might say, “Well she is the middle child after all” to explain someone’s behavior. It’s a bit silly, but I admit that it’s also quite interesting.

As for me, I’m blood-type AB. I guess this means I’m supposed to be strange, confident yet timid, and outgoing yet shy.

Hmmm.

(John)

I was born to Italian immigrants who sent me to English school in the predominantly French part of Canada-Montreal, Quebec. This situation had its good points; for example, I quickly learned three languages. Yet, it also had its bad points; for instance, I often experienced a confusing sense of identity. Therefore, I did what everyone else in my neighborhood did: I considered myself Italian.

When I was 12 my parents decided to go on a family trip to Italy in order to visit my other relatives still living there. Needless to say, I was extremely excited because I wanted to get in touch with my “true roots.” The day after we had arrived, my cousins immediately, and affectionately, referred to me as “The [North] American!” When I tried to correct them, I found that I couldn’t express myself in Italian to Italians in the same way that I could in English to Canadians! I couldn’t believe the culture shock! It was at that moment that I realized how Canadian I really was. I didn’t know how I felt or even how to feel. I knew I was the same person of course, and yet at the same time I seemed like a stranger to myself. In the end, I just shrugged the label off and concentrated on enjoying their company.

It took years for me to become comfortable with my Italian-Canadian identity, and even more to be proud of it. Now I even switch between both nationalities for fun with my friends. After all, it’s not every person who can claim both the World Cup of soccer and the Olympic gold in ice hockey in one year!

(Mauro)

Americans always shake hands, right? Japanese people…they bow to one another. And the French? Every time, a big kiss on each cheek.

Well, that’s the idea, perhaps. But I think the way people greet, and the way people touch, is much more personal than that. I find that my choice of greeting depends on so many factors - my relationship with the other person, their gender, the occasion, the time between greetings…. none of these are really cultural. Sometimes a hug is right, sometimes a handshake, sometimes a nod of the head and a “hello” is enough. The thing which really decides it, though, is what the other person is comfortable with. It’s the perfect example of cultural sensitivity - through a combination of instinct, body language, facial expression and mystery, most of us can tell when someone else is uncomfortable, and we adjust our actions accordingly.

You may have seen the pictures of Barack Obama recently, bowing deeply when meeting the Emperor of Japan. At the same time, they are shaking hands. It is a bit strange, and looks rather awkward.. but at the same time it makes perfect sense.

When my mother comes to visit, she hugs everyone she meets and no one minds, because for some reason it seems appropriate. I don’t know why that is, but that’s the magic of cultural difference. Sometimes, you just have to go with what seems right at the time.

(Darren)

When you go to another country, it is of course important to learn about the manners and customs of the country. But you shouldn’t believe everything people tell you, as my story shows.

When I was at university, I shared a house for one year with some other students. One of the students was from France and his girlfriend, who was also French, lived nearby. One weekend the girlfriend offered to cook dinner for all of us at the house. We were all really excited about this and were expecting a really good French meal. Everyone knows French food is great, right? But . . . the food was terrible. She made chicken with potatoes and onions, and it was awful. The chicken was dry, the potatoes had no flavour . . . it was bad.

Of course, we were all very polite. We all pretended that the food was great and we did our best to eat everything, chewing and chewing and chewing through the dry, dry chicken. But finally one of my housemates gave up. There was still some food left on his plate, but he put down his knife and fork. So my friend’s girlfriend said, ‘Oh, what’s wrong? Was it not very nice?’ My friend said, ‘No, no. It’s really nice. But this is a custom in Britain. If you finish all of the food on your plate, it means you are still hungry and would like some more. But if you leave a little food on your plate, it shows that you are full and you have had enough.’ This, of course, was a total lie. There is no custom like this in Britain. My friend just made it up. But of course we all backed him up. ‘Yes, yes, that’s true,’ we said eagerly, and we all left the terrible food on our plates.

As I said before, don’t believe everything they tell you . . .

(Dale)

Ever since I can remember being in Japan (since 1995) the inevitable question in a social setting about ones blood type has always made me cringe and grimace. However the question that I am talking about is actually not “What’s your blood type?” but the question that can follow after giving up a piece of private information. In my case I would answer, “My blood types is AB”. Then out of simple courtesy I would reciprocate the afore mentioned question by saying “So, what’s your blood type?” Depending on what response you give me, I may have to start a lecture on the history of the Japanese obsession with blood types.

If you gave me the wrong answer you would be blasted with something like “Do you know there is no scientific evidence behind telling your character and blood types and that only the Japanese and South Koreans share this fascination?” When I tell students that not many people know their blood types many are horrified. Some even retort by saying that one must know their blood type in case of injury or surgery. I calmly respond by saying that everybody gets their blood type checked before they have a blood infusion. The repercussions of a wrongful transfusion would be devastating. Besides, I for one believed for many years that I was type O, only to be told much later that I was AB. Can you imagine how much trouble I had changing my character?

I have found on the Internet that Dr Sakae Kobayashi and Kimata Hara first imported the theory of blood type mythology to Japan from Germany in 1916. But in 1927, Takeji Furukawa, a professor at Tokyo Women's Teacher's School, published a paper titled "The Study of Temperament Through Blood Type" in the journal Psychological Research. The idea quickly became popular with the Japanese public, and the militarist government of the time funded a study aimed at breeding superior soldiers based on these blood type theories. However in the 1930s its popularity waned as its unscientific basis became apparent. In the 1970s a book by a lawyer-come-broadcaster named Masahiko Nomi, revived this old trend. Although his books were largely anecdotal, and the reasoning behind his conclusions were vague, they became extremely popular.

To this day asking about and making judgments on people’s blood type is still popular in Japan. It is said that A’s are sensitive but fastidious, B’s are cheerful but selfish, AB’s are rational but critical while O’s are sociable but careless. I suppose it is not for me to disown such a popular myth but I would advise you to keep an open mind and not to covert this four pronged faith. Personally I would like to believe there are more than four types of people in Japan. Therefore, don’t ever answer my question of “So, what blood type are you?” with “What blood type do I look like?” because I was only making conversation…unless of course if we’re compatible!

（Ken）

The end of culture is coming soon, and we can thank globalization for it! Not that this is a bad thing though. Japan is perhaps just as good an example as any other country for this. A few anecdotes might help to illustrate my point.

As a keen photographer (although not a good one) I am always on the look out for a good picture. Something that can capture what Japan is, for my friends and family back home. I once came across a beautiful rice field, being tended to by an elderly man, wearing a traditional hat and farming in the traditional way. Even the setting sun was behind him, completing the perfect photo opportunity. That is, until I noticed he had an iPod on his belt, with headphones plugged into his ears…

A few months later I boarded the bullet train for the first time. A truly “Japanese” experience, or so I thought. I packed up my slippers and bought my bento and looked forward to watching Mt. Fuji go past my window. You can imagine the disappointment on my face, when the couple seated next to me sat down with McDonald’s take aways, and proceeded to talk about European football!

These kind of scenes are repeated all over the country, everyday. The girl wearing the lovely kimono, and holding a European handbag. The Japanese business man extending his hand for a shake with a westerner, who has just bowed.

Specific cultures are merging into one global culture, and this is a good thing, isn’t it?

(Richard)

After many years living abroad, I returned to live in my country for two short years. It was not easy, however, because of the reverse culture shock I felt. For instance, it was very difficult for me to see how much more fearful my fellow citizens had become, and to witness how that fear had degraded their quality of life. No running on the elementary school playground was one school district’s rule. Swing sets at schools were gone: someone might get hurt. And ‘play dates’: parents were controlling their children’s entire social lives outside of school, all in the name of safety. A play date was the only way for many children to see their friends outside of school, but only insofar as it worked into their parents’ schedules; children were not free to arrange some time with their friends after school without their parents’ involvement.

All this seemed strange and quite unnecessary to me. I also felt bad for the children, as they were not being allowed to exercise healthy independence. The parents, for their part, seemed to be basing their actions upon unsubstantiated fears.

It wasn’t always like that in America; it certainly wasn’t when I was a child. But many American parents today say it is necessary now, vigorously arguing that to allow children more freedom of movement (unsupervised) is irresponsible. I can’t agree: data shows it is statistically not more dangerous now than it was when I was a child. The only difference today is that there is a great amount of fear that people have been told to feel. Mine has become a country steeped in fear, and seeing that shocked me, and saddened me.

But now there is a growing debate on this issue in America. People are beginning to question why they need to be so fearful. This is a good and hopeful thing. I hope this questioning continues.

(Brian HERSCHLER)

During my second year teaching at an international school in Abu Dhabi in the UAE, mid-semester holidays came around and I and my two room mates decided that we would go to Nepal and explore the kingdom of mountains. We had initially booked a flight from Dubai direct to Kathmandu (the capital) on Aeroflot, the national carrier of the Soviet Union at the time. However, the plane never arrived due to a gasoline strike in Moscow and so our travel agent hurriedly booked us on Pakistani Airlines for the next day. This flight would mean that we would fly into Karachi (Pakistan), spend the night there and fly on to Nepal the next day.

Well, the next day we arrived at Abu Dhabi International Airport, checked in and then had a look around the duty free. Then there was an announcement that the flight was ready for boarding. We duly arrived at the gate but something was wrong. We were the only ones there. Where were all the other passengers?

We boarded and were welcomed by the crew and took our seats. Then, about 10 minutes before doors were closed; three burly policemen appeared at the curtain that separated business class from economy. One by one they started taking the handcuffs and leg chains off the rest of the ‘passengers’. These ‘passengers’ consisted of around 200 hundred Pakistani men, who were either illegal immigrants or had been jailed in the UAE for criminal offences. Our flight was actually a deportation flight!

Some of these prisoners had spent years in jail. The plane took off to wild cheers and the freedom party began. The prisoners were really going wild. My friends and I sat in the corner of the plane stunned at what we were seeing and not without a little bit of trepidation. Alls well that ends well but this was indeed the craziest plane ride of my life.

(Andy)

After living in Japan for several years without returning home to the United States, I made a trip to San Francisco to visit my sister for four days. I was back in my home country, surrounded by familiar things, yet nothing seemed right. For one, I could understand everything that people said around me because it was all in English. Everywhere I went - on the street, on the bus, in line at the theater, and in restaurants - I was surrounded by English. At one restaurant I was talking to my sister, but I also overheard one couple complaining about their children, another woman talking about her bad back, and a man going on and on about his job to his girlfriend or wife. It was like having three televisions on at the same time. I had trouble concentrating.

I also had trouble responding to people. In Japan I rarely have to talk to shop staff, bank tellers, restaurant servers or supermarket checkout clerks. They ask what I want, I tell them, and that is the end of the conversation. The supermarket clerk simply reads the price of each item and gives me the total. But in the States, these people talk to you. On my trip, the server asked it I was new to San Francisco and then began telling me of all the places I should go. When she found out I was living in Japan, she asked me lots of questions. I just wanted her to take my order. At the supermarket, the clerk talked about the quality of the fruit I was buying (“Excellent choice. I had some last week and they were good.”), the weather (“I hope it doesn’t rain today. I have to go downtown for some shopping.”) and a story related with the wine I was purchasing. I had no idea what to say. I had become so used to living in Japan that I felt like a foreigner in my own country.

I thought I would have some reverse culture shock on that trip, but I never expected to have trouble speaking in or listening to English.

(John)

In 2002 I first arrived in Japan to work as an Assistant Language Teacher at a few high schools in Western Mikawa, Aichi. My desk was always located in the teachers’ room of course, so I spent a lot of time there preparing lesson plans, studying Japanese, reading, getting to know my co-workers better, etc. From the very first day, I noticed students coming in and going out of the room without knocking or asking for permission. This behavior surprised me because in Canada where I went to school students rarely entered the teachers' room. For Canadian instructors, their designated classroom is where they do most of their work, while the teachers' room is usually a place for them to get away from work, relax and socialize with their peers undisturbed. It was at this point that I realized that Japanese instructors do not have designated classrooms to work in, which is why they do everything at their desks in the teachers' room - including receiving students. At first, I felt that the students to some extent were invading my privacy even though they would not come to see me but rather another instructor. Yet, gradually, I began to get accustomed to the situation and, therefore, understood that one custom was not necessarily better or worse than another; there were both merely different.

(Mauro)

Many, (many!) years ago, before I lived in Japan, I had the opportunity to teach basic English skills to Japanese students living in Canada. I loved the questions they asked, and their curiosity about Canadian life. However, I had never lived in Japan before, so sometimes their amazement at daily life in Canada would surprise me. One incident that stands out is when my student Junko came running up to me one morning.
“Sarah! Sarah! Do you know what happened?”
I couldn’t guess, but I imagined it must have been something extraordinary because she was so happy. She continued;
“I was walking to school, and a lady stopped me to ask directions to the Pacific Centre Mall!”

Junko looked so pleased at this, but I couldn’t understand why. I waited for her to continue. By this time, a few more of her Japanese classmates had gathered around.
“I can’t believe it! She asked me, a Japanese, to give her directions here in Vancouver. And in ENGLISH!”
Her classmates were very impressed, and were praising her with large smiles and many “Sugoi!” exclamations.

I finally had to ask why this was such a big deal. Junko and her classmates explained that they didn’t feel Canadian, so how could a Canadian choose to ask them, visitors, for directions? It made them feel special, like they belonged, when something like this happened.

It wasn’t until I lived in Japan for a few years that I understood. But, my understanding is different than Junko’s because I will never fully belong, or be mistaken for a Japanese, no matter how much I would like to. I understand Junko’s happiness at fitting in, at being able to blend into multicultural Canada, and to be considered a part of the community.

As this month is Tanabata, I will end this with a wish… “I wish that I will someday be able to fit in and be accepted as part of the community.” Until then, I’ll “gambaru” and continue to learn more Japanese!

(Sarah)

I’m English, so I speak English. But I live in Japan, so I also speak Japanese. But as Japan becomes more multicultural, I sometimes get confused….

For example, I enjoy spicy food and I sometimes visit a Pakistani restaurant in Nagoya with my wife. The waiter starts speaking to us in Japanese, but we all get mixed up and end up speaking a mixture of English, Japanese and Urdu. And what about the time I visited Saipan? As the island is a popular tourist destination for Japanese, many of the shop and restaurant staff speak the language very well. However, they also speak English… and they look at me, and my wife, and get stuck…. how to start?!

Last year I took a trip to Paris with my wife and her parents, and I was very keen to try out my schoolboy French. It was very strange to translate from French into Japanese (neither of which I speak that well) and once again the languages started flying around all over the place! What is most important though is that we were all able to communicate, and we all had a good time. I think this is the future of language. In many parts of the world, multilingualism is the norm. If you are learning English now, you will probably use it to talk to all kinds of people in the future…British, Australians, Americans, Canadians, yes… but Koreans, Germans, Nigerians too. And a few words in another language can go a long way.

I recently took my two-year old son to see the “Animals” exhibition at the Aichi Art Centre. He was very excited to see all the sculptures and ran into the room shouting “Daddy, Bear! Bear!”. Then he turned solemnly to the Japanese gallery attendant and said “熊、熊”. He often does this kind of thing now, and I am very envious of his ability to play with languages.

(Darren)

What is your favourite English word? And how about your favourite Japanese word? In one of my classes a few weeks ago we were talking about this, and these were my answers.

My favourite English word is not bad. I like this word because it shows a very British attitude to the world. If an American friend goes to see a new action film and you ask him how it was, he might say “Amazing!” or “Great!” or “Really exciting!” But if you ask a British friend the same thing, his usual response will be “Not bad,” even though he too thinks that it was amazing and great and exciting. This type of understatement seems very British to me. Occasionally, however, the word not bad gets me into trouble. Sometimes my wife (who is Japanese) cooks a really nice dinner. She spends a lot of time on it and really works hard to make something special. So when she asks me how it is, and I say “Not bad,” she is not happy! I have tried many times to explain that although I might only say, “Not bad,” what I truly mean is that the food is really nice and delicious and tasty, but somehow she never seems to believe me.

My favourite Japanese word is 猫舌. There are a couple of reasons why I like it. First, 猫舌was the first Japanese idiom I learnt. During the first week I was here, a Japanese colleague taught me it when I was trying to drink a hot cup of tea. The second reason I like it is just because of the image of a cat’s tongue. For me this image was really memorable, and unlike most Japanese phrases I try to learn, I have never had any problems remembering this one. Finally, I like it because I am 猫舌 - I always have to wait quite a long time for hot drinks to cool down before I can drink them - and we have no word for this in English. I wish we had a word like 猫舌 in English.

(Dale)

Although time is continually passing us by, at the same rate, no matter where ever we are on this globe, in almost every culture there seems to be references to occasions when we experience it flowing in a faster or slower state. I too have experienced myself changing on how I perceive time.

In Japan you sometimes forget how “on time” everything is because of the high expectation for efficiency. Growing up in Australia we were always quite relaxed about time. For example plus or minus ten minutes was an acceptable margin for trains and buses to be late or even early. Occasionally train drivers would overrun the platform and have to come back a couple of meters as everyone clapped or jeered and said things like “Well done mate!” and “Did you have a late night?” It was an inconvenience but it was just the way things were.

An Indian friend once told me a story about how trains in his hometown were typically behind schedule. The daily train that came to his local station was scheduled to come at noon but had never in his lifetime come on time. It was quite common for it to be thirty forty or even an hour late. Sometimes it would even arrive after three o’clock. However he said that that it did arrive once at twelve on the dot. The only problem was that it was scheduled to arrive the previous day.

An Australian friend of mine once told me an anecdote about this phenomena of how people of different countries perceive time to have different standards depending on their cultural values. He started by saying “In New York, if you ask a businessman on the way to work what the time is, he won’t stop but quickly look at his five thousand dollar wrist watch and shout to you the time over his right shoulder as he briskly walked by. In Tokyo, if you ask a businessman on the way to work what the time is, he might give you in a confused look and just keep on walking. Not because he doesn’t understand English or because he’s reserved but because it was an illogical question. Everyone carries at least one cell phone and wears a watch. Also there are clocks everywhere in the city so you just have to open your eyes and look around. But in Sydney, if you ask a businessman on the way to work what the time is, he’ll probably not only stop to tell you the time, but will also buy you a beer and tell you his whole life’s story. Of course this story is just an exaggeration but like most anecdotes there are some truths embedded in it.

After over fourteen years here I believe I have become accustomed to the Japanese way of life. Eating sushi, singing Karaoke and supporting the Chunichi Dragons are just some of the things that I have adapted into my lifestyle. I also often find myself walking rather quickly up to the platforms when I catch trains. This is maybe because I like to check out the stalls, grab something to eat or buy a magazine before I catch a Shinkansen. I always spend a little too long making my decision over chicken or salmon and have to shuffle past a crowd of suits to the line of an unreserved/non-smoking car. But ever so dependably as I look down at my watch to check the time a large white bullet nosed silhouette slides into the station exactly when it is scheduled to, you could set your watch to it.

(Ken)

When I applied for my first job in Japan as an Assistant English Teacher there was a space on the application form to list my hobbies and interests. Well at the time I didn’t really have the time or money to actively pursue any hobbies but there were a number of things that I was interested in and one of these was jazz dancing. A year before I submitted my application, I had been living in one of the northernmost towns of England doing a year’s work placement. At that time I took a couple of jazz dancing lessons. I don’t remember how many times I attended the class exactly but I don’t think it was anymore than four. Despite being a really terrible jazz dancer I had enjoyed the classes, and always thought that it was something I might take up again; maybe Japan was the place that I could do this? Anyway, I filled in the application form writing in jazz dancing as my hobby, reasoning that although it wasn’t really a hobby, it was an interest, so I wasn’t exactly lying, just bending the truth. Fortunately for me, I did get the job I applied for and came to live in a small farming community in Nagano and work in the local, junior high school. Finally the day came when I went to my first class of excited, third-grade Junior high school students. All of the students had been encouraged to write a question to ask me and these ranged from the usual ‘Do you like natto?’ to the more unusual ‘Do you like cucumber?’ Everything was going well and the class seemed to pass quickly. Five minutes before the end of the class however, a confident female student stood up and said, ‘I hear you like jazz dancing, will you please jazz dance for us here now? I stood rooted to the floor in shock and started to refuse. I looked at the Japanese English teacher for help and he said, “What a good idea!”. I still refused but by this time the entire class had begun to chant, ‘Dance! Dance, Dance!’ So what could I do but shuffle helplessly and uncoordinatedly from foot to foot. It was awful but the students enjoyed the new AET’s bad dancing and applauded! For an entire week I had to repeat my awful, made up on the spur of the moment, jazz dancing steps for every class. By Friday I thought that perhaps my humiliation was over but it just got worse. A mother of one of my students was a member of a jazz dancing group and she approached me and asked to join one of their practices. I tried to explain that I was really not a good dancer but she said that she had heard from her daughter that I was great and would probably put the other members to shame. Needless to say that after one evening of watching my terrible attempts to keep up with people who seemed to me to be semi-professionals dancers, I was never asked me to return to the group. My reputation as a brilliant jazz dancer, thankfully died a sudden death. From this experience I learned two things; first and most important was never put anything on an application form in Japan that is not completely 100% true, and second that the Japanese use of the word hobby can be quite different from the British one. In my opinion British people have a wider interpretation of the word hobby. It can of course mean an activity that you do often and therefore are quite proficient at, but it may also be used to mean an activity that you enjoy but are not very proficient at and do irregularly. I also realized that my protestations about my lack of jazz dancing ability to the ladies of the jazz dancing group were probably interpreted as modesty rather than honesty; at least until they saw me dance. Needless to say I was put off jazz dancing for life and never, ever say something is my hobby unless I’m really good at it.

(Avril)

Every country has its share of contradictions, and how you react to them often determines whether you enjoy your time in the country or not. Some people like to point them out as proof this country is not as advanced as their home country, or the people are not as clever. Others enjoy the differences and laugh about them. Which type are you?

Japan is not different from other countries in this matter. Usually Japan prides itself on being so concerned with safety. If you go near a construction site, there are always old men with flags telling you when it is safe to walk within a few hundred meters. There are all kinds of masks for people to wear in case they are sick or if they don’t want to get sick. Yet, I have seen many cars drive by with children standing up between the driver’s seat and the front passenger seat! How safe is that?

Japan also takes great pride in being a clean country. There are hand towels before meals, the public facilities are usually spotless, and there is a small army of people to clean the Shinkansen everytime it finishes its journey. Yet, families often use the same bath water for baths everynight! Something most westerners would claim is incredibly dirty!

There are many more examples. Which way do you react when seeing these contradictions?

(Richard)

I love the countryside. No matter what country I am in, breathing fresh air, seeing blue (or stormy) sky over a landscape free of houses, roads, power lines, etc., and listening to the varied and beautiful sounds of nature, gives me energy and joy-and purpose. In Japan, where even small city life can smother the remembrance of the natural world, I have found it to be essential to find places of natural beauty-and visit them often. In such places I find small wonders, within myself I find tranquility; places untouched by anything save a bird’s wing are precious and should be preserved on their own merits, essential merits overruling the calculus of economic gain, human convenience, short-sighted advantage.

I am happy that I have found places in Honshu that help me to get back to myself-the self that remembers he is only a small part of nature.

(Brian Herschler)

I come from Scotland and my hometown is exactly on the same line of latitude as Moscow, so I have experienced some extreme cold weather. Nothing like Canada, but in the -20’s many times.

When I took up my first teaching post in Abu Dhabi, the capital of the United Arab Emirates, I realized that I would be facing some really hot weather. However, the summer of 2001 blew me away. The average day temperature in the shade was 45℃ and the direct sunlight was closer to 55℃. One Saturday I went shopping for a CD when a friend phoned and suggested going for a coffee at Starbucks. So, I left the shopping mall and drove to Starbucks. On the way, while I was stopped at a red light I unwrapped the CD, but I never got a chance to play it as the lights changed quickly and a little later I arrived at Starbucks.

I spent about an hour in the coffee shop and then drove home. On way home, I was again at a red light and so decided to play the new CD. I thought I had left it on the dashboard but it wasn’t there. I looked down on the floor and then under the passenger seat but I couldn’t find it. When I parked my car outside my apartment I searched again but couldn’t see it. Where did I put my new CD? Then I noticed a slight bump on the dashboard. I slid my palm across the dash and felt a bump. The color was the same, what was the bump? It was my new CD, the case, the sleeve and the plastic bag from the shop. The whole lot had melted into the dashboard. When I had parked my car outside of Starbucks I had forgotten to pull the windshield sun cover over the window. The temperature in the car had probably risen to 80℃ or more, and had melted the whole thing. An unbelievable lesson I learned that day was not to leave anything uncovered in a car in the Middle-East!

(Andy)

How time is conceived varies greatly depending on your cultural background and/or how you were brought up, and yet, many react emotionally to other people’s ways of thinking about time.

My first “Time Shock” came when I went to the United States as a high school student. I still remember showing up on time for a party at my friend’s house just to find no one in sight except for the hosts who were still trying to clean up the place for the party. Later, I learned that I was expected to be “fashionably late” for parties in that culture, that is, if the party is to start at 8 PM, you should get there 20 or 30 minutes late. Some people show up one or two hours late, even!

The second Time Shock hit me when I came back to Japan from the US. My friends started to complain that I was 5 minutes late for casual gatherings. In the US, I was always the first one there! It took me quite some time to get readjusted to being on time but arriving several minutes BEFORE the set time!

One of more recent Time Shocks presented itself when I came to work for Nanzan 9 years ago. Before coming to Nanzan, I had worked for several Japanese and US companies where meetings never started on time. In fact, if it is a 3 o’clock meeting, maybe only one or two persons would be there on time, and many would show up at 3:05 or 3:10. Some people would arrive around 3:20 or 3:30. We all had different clients and responsibilities, so it was not a crime to be late for meetings. Our professional judgment was honored: if dealing with your client by phone, for example, is important at that time, then you make the decision to be late for the meeting and give that client priority. However, at Nanzan University, many meetings start on time, so I thought, in Japan, university meetings generally start on time. But that wasn’t true, either. I just learned last weekend that at a nearby university, meetings never start on time!

The lesson learned is that, just like most things about cultural expectations and values, you have to study that particular culture well before passing judgment about its people or their behavior with regards to time management. Yes, it will take time, but that’s the way to go.

(Charlie)

I’ve lived in Japan for over 10 years and there are still some things that have taken me many years to try. In most cases it was because I was too scared. Food is a great example, especially the New Year’s food o-sechi. I didn’t know what most of the food was for the first few years living here, and the dictionary wasn’t much help. In fact, the descriptions in the dictionary often made it worse. How delicious does ‘steamed fish paste’ sound to you? And who are they kidding anyway? When was the last time you saw pink or red fish meat? Or how about braised burdock? I’m not sure what braised means, but how can braising a thistle-like plant that catches on clothing when you walk in the fields be even remotely edible? Even worse, many Japanese don’t know what some of the foods are either.

I would like to say that I found my courage and tried o-sechi willingly, but the truth is that since o-sechi is eaten for several days until it is gone, I had to make a decision between waiting until other people finished everything and going hungry in the process or eating as much of it as possible the first two days so that I could eat something else afterward. Fortunately, I chose the latter (but not after two or three New Years where I lost considerable weight trying the former) and discovered that most of these foods were delicious. Since many foods are only eaten at this time of year, I’ve come to appreciate eating o-sechi, and look forward to it almost as much as the traditional turkey on Thanksgiving Day in the US. So this year pass me those sweet black beans and some kelp rolled up tightly and bound with dried gourd shavings, please.

As a final note to Japanese people introducing o-sechi to foreigners, NEVER tell them what the food is. Just say it is delicious and smile.

Kuromame = sweet black beans
Kombumaki = kelp (Kombu) rolled up tightly and bound with dried gourd shavings (kanpyo)
Kamaboko = steamed fish paste
Kinpira Gobo = braised burdock root
Datemaki = sweet omelet smeared with fish paste

(John)

The word “discrimination” usually carries with it negative connotations, but when I lived in Okazaki I think I experienced what amounted to, for lack of a better term, positive discrimination. Near the train station there is a futsal court that was set up shortly after I had arrived in Japan. At that time, of course, my Japanese and knowledge of the country’s culture were only very basic. One day a friend invited me to play there. Since I had a good time, I started to go every week not just because it was fun, but also because it was free. After a while I would notice people making discreet payments, so I decided to ask finally what exactly they were buying. My friend quietly replied that they were paying to play. I was shocked and embarrassed and immediately asked how much I owed. When everyone assured me that since I was a guest it was free for me, I felt awkward and uncomfortable. Not one person ever complained about my participation; in fact, I had made many friends! What’s more, when I told all the players that I was going to move to Nagoya, they gave me a small soccer ball with all their signatures on it as a farewell present! I didn’t, and still don’t, know whether I should feel happy or guilty…

(Mauro)

For me, like most, Valentine’s Day symbolizes love. But, unlike most, it represents not just romantic love. For my Irish-Catholic family, a Valentine can be given to anybody you feel a closeness to, and to whom you want to say thank you for the love shown throughout the year. When I was younger, a typical Valentine’s Day in my home would include beautiful cards given to me and my sister from my mom and dad. Dinner would be all of our favourites, including a chocolate and strawberry cake for dessert. Of course, there was romance, too, and after dinner, my parents would celebrate by going to a movie together and leaving us kids at home. Waiting for my sister and I at bedtime would be little bags full of candy cinnamon hearts sitting on our pillows.

In Japan, I really do miss the spirit of Valentine’s Day that I shared with my family. I watch as the boys here get the full benefit of a girl’s shy love on February 14th, and I feel how difficult it must be for a young woman to express herself, and to show her love without knowing if it will be returned. On March 14th, how difficult the anticipation must be, waiting to see… “Does he love me too?” If I could, I’d like to introduce the spirit of Saint Valentine that still lives today in my family home in Canada. On that day, everyone feels loved!

(Sarah)

I think Christmas is by far the most important holiday in England. As a child, I remember getting excited about Christmas weeks, or even months, before its actual arrival. There were landmarks on the way to the big day. About one month before Christmas, I would help my mum write cards which we would post in huge bundles. A couple of weeks before, we would buy our tree and bring it home for decoration. Turning on the lights was an exciting event in itself. We would also order the turkey, big enough to feed a family of hungry people, probably for several days. Then, after all the waiting, Christmas finally arrived! The mountain of presents which magically appeared under the tree overnight, exchanged after breakfast; the rich, buttery smells of the roasting turkey wafting through the house until lunchtime. The almost ridiculous lunch - huge plates heaving with turkey, chipolatas, Brussels sprouts, roast potatoes, gravy and stuffing. Followed by lumpy, boozy pudding, full of swollen fruit and smothered in cream, hiding sixpences inside. The afternoon was for the queen’s speech, the Christmas movie, playing with new toys. Then cold cuts and a game of cards, played for pennies. It was a wonderful day; January and February stretched out long and bleak afterwards.

When I first came to Japan, I arrived in late September. From November 1st onwards, everything screamed CHRISTMAS! The sparkling lights, the cold, crisp evenings, the carols in the air … it all felt very familiar. I was really looking forward to the big Japanese Christmas day. Then, on December 25th…… what? Nothing! People went to work, finishing up before the real holiday started in the New Year. Japanese Christmas felt like a non-alcoholic cocktail, or a song without a chorus. All the build up without any bang. Christmas cake and KFC. It was almost the same, but totally different.

Then came New Year, and now I love Japanese New Year as much as I love Christmas. I’ve come to realise that every culture needs a festival when people go `home` to spend time with the people they love. Of course the Japanese don’t need a British Christmas; they already have a holiday of their own.
One of my favourite Christmases was spent on the beach in Australia. We dug a hole in the sand and cooked shrimp, on a sweltering summer’s day. But it was especially important because of the company of good friends, even far from home.....

(Darren)

America and Britain were once famously described as two countries divided by a common language, and sometimes I definitely think it's true. Even simple greetings can cause problems. I'm British and have a good friend who is American. We talk on the phone every couple of weeks, and our conversation always starts the same way. If I call him, he'll answer the phone and say, "Hey, Dale. What's up?" Then there will be a pause for a couple of seconds before I reply, "Yeah, good, thanks."

The problem is that his greeting "What's up?” has different meanings in America and Britain. In American English "What's up?" is a common greeting, meaning "How are you?" or "How's it going?" But in British English "What's up?" usually means "What's wrong?" or "Are you okay?" So when my friend says "What's up?" my automatic response is to think "Nothing. Nothing's wrong." It takes my brain a couple of seconds to remember the American meaning of "What's up?" The funny thing is that exactly the same problem happens when he calls me. I'll answer the phone and say, "Hi, XXX, you alright?" Then there will be a pause for a couple of seconds before he replies, "Yeah, I'm fine, thanks." In British English "You alright?" is a normal greeting, but in American English it simply means "Are you alright?" or "What's wrong?" So his automatic response is to think "Nothing. Nothing's wrong." and it takes his brain a couple of seconds to work out how to respond.

I think it's funny that not only do our greetings confuse each other, but that they have exactly the same, though opposite, meanings in the two countries.

(Dale)

I really like to eat fruit. One of the things about Japan that still impresses me is the “perfectness” of fruit. By “perfectness” I mean that simple fruit such as apples or oranges that are sold in regular supermarkets are all almost identical in shape, color, size and even in taste. For Japanese consumers this may seem normal, but for anybody who has lived abroad or has tried growing produce in their backyard know that this is a highly commendable achievement. Living in Australia, I used to take pride in being able to select the best apples from the market carts. In Japan there is no need.

My first encounter with Japanese fruit was in 1995 when I came here to study Japanese. I first stayed at my aunt’s house until I could find an apartment of my own. On my arrival I was lead into the living room where there was a “kotatsu” with a bowl of really big apples on it. My aunt asked me if I would like to eat some and I said “Sure!” She turned on the TV, we chatted for a while and then she left the room to answer a phone call.

I reached over and grabbed one of the big red apples. It was not only the biggest apple that I had ever seen but also the sweetest smelling one. Usually apples are a little smaller in size than oranges in Australia, and sell for about $2 per kilo. Naturally, I then started to rub the apple against my shirt to polish it. After I felt that the apple was sufficiently shined I proceeded to take my first bite into a Japanese apple. It was absolutely delicious. As I was about to take my second mouthful my aunt walked back into the room with a small circular tray. She froze at the doorway and just stared at me. After a speechless moment she quietly put the tray on the tabletop. On the tray was a plate of cleanly cut, skinless, pieces of apple with little forks stuck into them. I removed the apple from my mouth because from the look on her face I was sure that I had done something wrong.

Apparently my aunt could not believe that I had just taken an apple from the pile and proceeded to eat it without cutting or washing it first. She then calmly continued to tell me, in a motherly tone, that in Japan it was not how apples were eaten. Although that was how I had eaten apples for the past twenty years of my life I was in a different country and was here to learn about the culture. That was when I surrendered the now imperfect red orb. My aunt swiftly took the apple from me and disappeared into the kitchen. I never saw that apple again.

When I was in high school I used to eat melons by the half and pick mangoes off the trees on the way home. Imagine my shock when I heard that melons and Miyazaki mangoes sold at about \10,000 each. Although I still enjoy eating fruit the high prices and my experience with apple-etiquette has impeded my appetite for fruit in Japan.

(Ken)

When I first arrived in Japan I was so excited to be here, that I didn't take the time to think about the many similarities between Japan and my home country of England.

As far as I was concerned everything about Japan was different, the language was different, the food was different and of course the people were different.

After I'd been in Japan for about a month I met and made my first true Japanese friend, T. I liked her immediately because we had the same sense of humor and enjoyed doing the same things, but she also reminded me so much of my best friend at home that our friendship was inevitable. They even look alike! Really they do, they are about the same height, and have the same build and the same smile and I very soon stopped thinking of her as ‘My Japanese friend’ and she just became ‘my friend’. She made me realize that Japanese people and English people are not so different from one another. After a few more weeks of my friendship with T, I started to think about the similarities between Japan and England as countries and I realized that there are a lot. Here are a few; both countries are island countries, they both have a monarchy, tea is a national drink in both countries and both the Japanese and the English have a reputation for politeness.

We even have some of the same sayings, for example ‘The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence’, or ‘An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth’. I think that this proves that we think in the same way.

But I think the most important thing that I realized is that, wherever you go in the world people are the same. We have the same dreams, goals and desires and my friends are just my friends. Nowadays I never distinguish between my friends as Japanese or Canadian etc, my friends are just my friends, people are just people and in reality, we're really not that different.

(Avril)

Before I came to Japan I was guilty of having all the same stereotypes as everyone else. Often stereotypes are negative but one positive stereotype I had heard was that Japanese people are far more helpful than other people, to strangers. How could this be true if they are also shy and avoid foreigners, I thought?

A friend of mine soon found out that it was true. He was riding a train in Chiba, looking for a museum, but couldn't remember which stop to get off at, so he decided to ask for directions, but of course could not speak Japanese. Who better to ask than a schoolboy, who of course is studying English in highschool and might be able to answer? Luckily the schoolboy was able to offer some help, despite actually shaking with fear as he answered, and my friend got off at the station, a few stops down the line. He walked around for about 20 minutes before giving up, and coming to the conclusion the schoolboy had given him the wrong directions. Just then, a car pulled up in front of him and a man jumped out dripping with sweat and started bowing at him repeatedly. He produced a box of cookies and kept saying “sorry”. Finally he managed to put a few sentences together in English, in which he explained that his son had come home excitedly and told him how he had helped a foreigner, in English. The man quickly realised his son had given my friend the wrong instructions, so he had jumped in his car and come up to apologise. He then offered my friend a lift to the museum and apologised the whole way.

Despite their fear and unease around foreigners, both people had gone out of their way to help my friend. Perhaps it is possible to be shy and helpful at the same time…

(Richard)

Buying flowers in Japan can be a tricky business. It can be ever trickier when the flowers are bought in a department store, and there is no helpful store clerk there to warn you that maybe you’d better not buy that pretty yellow, red, and purple bouquet for your Japanese wife. Funeral flowers? Yes, in the West we also have flowers at funerals, but there is no special combination of flowers that signify death or dying. So I was very surprised, and then distraught, at my wife’s negative reaction. I wanted her to be happy: she was anything but. She didn’t throw out the flowers, though. She separated them into their different colors, and put each new (and much smaller) bouquet in a different room.

But this mistake was small compared to what my friend did. He gave the funeral bouquet to his (and my) good friend as a wedding gift!

The moral of the story? Flowers can be dangerous.

(Brian Herschler)

Today, The Republic of Ireland has one of the strongest economies in Europe and people are flooding to the country looking for job opportunities. These results are due to do the European Community grants the country received from the early 1980`s in order to build a developed and competitive infrastructure.

However, when I first went there in 1983 it was very different. I was holidaying in the country’s north county called Donegal and stayed in Donegal Town for a couple of days. The people were very friendly and extremely kind. If you asked for directions in the small town they would invariably take you to the place you wanted to go. My next stop was to the biggest city in the county called Letterkenny. That morning I boarded the bus which would take me the 56 kilometers to the city. The bus wound its way out of Donegal and then about 5 kilometers down the highway the bus turned off and went down a small lane for another kilometer. The bus stopped outside a single cottage and the driver got out and went into the cottage. 10 minutes later he emerged with a very fragile looking old lady who was greeted by everyone as she got on the bus. The bus then drove to a supermarket where the old lady and the driver disappeared into the store. 20 minutes later they came back out with bags full of groceries. The old lady was then driven back to her house where again the driver went inside with the old lady for at least another 20 minutes to obviously help her unpack the bags. At last the driver came back to the bus and was greeted with friendly comments about how healthy his 90 year old mother looked. We then drove back to the highway and on to our destination, about 1 hour behind schedule.

I didn’t see one person look at their watch during this shopping trip and not one person complained. In fact most people on the bus appeared delighted to see how healthy the old lady was. Even in 2008, I think parts of Ireland are still like this but it is becoming harder and harder to find places around the world where time really does stand still, and where people are more interested in helping others than caring about how quickly they get from one place to another.

(Andy)

私はイギリス留学していたこともあり、機会があればイギリスやヨーロッパ諸国へ遊びに行ったり、今現在はここ英語教育センターで勤務したりと、自他共に認める英語力が身についているものだと信じていました…この夏までは。
この夏、VancouverとSeattleに行き、人生初の北アメリカ大陸進出をしたのですが、なんと「英語が通じない・わからない」というショックなことが起こったのです。
Case 1: Chips, please!
小腹が空いた私は、ファーストフードショップで斜め前に座っていた人が食べていた“フライドポテト”が美味しそうだったので、同じものを頼むことにしました。
私：「Chips, please!」
店員：「With sauces?」
私：「（ケチャップのことかな？）Yes, please!」
店員：「Would you like any sour cream?」
私：「（ポテトにサワークリーム？まぁいいか）Yes, please!」
この会話の後に私が手にできた食べ物は、“フライドポテト”ではなく、なんと山盛りのトルティーヤチップスとサルサソース＆サワークリームだったのです！「エッ？私が食べたいものと違う！」と言いたかったのですが、店員の人の良さそうな笑顔に負けてつい「Thank you…」と言ってしまい、結局トルティーヤチップスを食べたのでした。
「どうしてこうなったのだろう？」と思った瞬間、肝心なことに気付きました。「ここはカナダ、イギリスじゃない！」と。イギリス英語では“chips”が“フライドポテト”という意味ですが、カナダやアメリカの英語では“ポテトチップス”や“トルティーヤチップス”という意味だったのです。
こういった英語が通じなかったハプニングは、残念ながらまだまだあります。でもそれは、また次の機会にお話ししますね。

(Naoko)

When I was going to high school in the United States, I had an opportunity to visit an elementary school to give a talk on Japan. This was back in 1979, and these students didn’t know very much about Japan except for what they had seen on TV, much less meeting a Japanese in person. Everything I brought with me to the classroom caused shock and dismay among the students. Particularly, a package of seaweed was a hit. Some brave kids reached for a piece and put it in their mouth and made just about the funniest face a human could make (and then they, of course, spat it out!). Then the time for a Q&A came. There is one question that has stayed with me over that last 30 years. One boy asked, “Is your house near the Great Wall?” “Does he mean the Great Wall of China (万里の長城)? That’s an odd question…” I thought. Maybe for him, there is no difference between China and Japan. Asia is so far away, and for these kids, Asia is Asia is Asia. Maybe he thought Japan was part of China. Well, maybe some people still think that. Just because you are from a particular country, that doesn’t mean everyone else has to be knowledgeable about your home country: The world doesn’t revolve around you. It was a simple question that made me aware of my ethnocentric thinking.

(Charlie)

One aspect of Japanese culture that is still difficult for me to understand is the custom of giving a returning gift. I know if someone does something especially nice for you or if someone gives you money or a gift, then you have an obligation to give a gift in return. However, I had no idea it could get me in trouble. Several years ago I was taking the garbage down and noticed my neighbor's garbage sitting outside her door. My neighbor is quite old and the garbage bag looked heavy, so I decided to do her a favor and take her garbage down, too. An hour later, I got a knock on the door from my neighbor who began apologizing to me for leaving her smelly garbage outside. I told her the bag wasn't stinky and that it had been no trouble to take her garbage down with me. She obviously felt obligated to me because she presented me with a gift - a can of pineapples! She apologized for giving me such a terrible gift and left. The next day we came back home from shopping and found a bag of Japanese radish (daikon) from our neighbor's garden next to our door. Now my neighbor never leaves her garbage outside her door, and I feel terrible for making her feel like she owned me something for taking her garbage down for her. Sometimes being a good neighbor means not being too helpful I guess.

(John)

In my first year in Japan, I had a part-time job teaching business English to employees of a company. They were very friendly, and the first student who arrived to class would always offer me snacks before the lesson began. One day, as one such student was pouring some green tea for me, I pointed to a container on her tray and asked what it was. She replied that it contained cream for coffee. Since many Westerners like myself usually add milk and sugar to our tea, I asked her if she could put some in mine. Shocked, she questioned me many times as to whether that was what I really wanted. After assuring her just as many times, she finally consented. When I politely informed her that the final product was oishi, she proceeded to tell all the other students who entered the room what had just transpired. My Japanese was not very good, but I could still tell what the conversation was about, so I asked her why she was so excited. “Adding milk and sugar to green tea is like putting cream in Coca-Cola!” she exclaimed. Needless to say, I have not drunk that mixture since.

(Mauro)

When I first came to Japan, I really didn’t know very much about the country. I had read about high-tech gadgets and crowded subways and streets, but that was really about it. My decision to move to Japan was quite sudden, so there was very little time to find out very much about the city I was moving to except that it was large and very industrial. When I arrived at Nagoya Airport, I was met by my new employer. He welcomed me, and took me out to his car. He said;
“Sarah, the first few days are the most interesting. As we drive, look out the window and tell me what you see.”
As we drove, I pointed out some familiar things; “There’s McDonalds! Look, there’s KFC!” There were also things flying by that I couldn’t recognize, such as Pachinko parlours and trees with strange, orange fruit (Kaki!) But, the most unusual things for me were the tall, gray cement apartment buildings. They had no balconies! There were no windows! I looked to my new boss and said;
“Those must be very poor Japanese. They don’t even have a small window in their apartment building. How sad!”
He looked out the window to where I was pointing, and then he began to laugh so hard he had to stop the car. “Sarah, those are NOT apartments. They are car parking buildings. They’re only for cars, NOT people!” He was still laughing as he explained that there were elevators inside especially made for cars. I was so impressed, and it was proof enough for me that Japan is truly “high tech”!

(Sarah)

When I first came to Japan, I had no idea about Japanese food. The small town in England which I come from had no Japanese restaurants, and I had never even used a pair of chopsticks. I used to walk around my local supermarket bewildered by the packaging, the alien vegetables; even the meat was sliced differently.
In the years since I have eaten all kinds of new things and have come to love Japanese food. I eat natto and umeboshi, I delight in pickles and dried squid, I pop raw fish into my mouth frequently…. Not much worries me any more.
The story which best illustrates this is of a recent trip to a conveyer belt sushi restaurant. I was enjoying myself chatting and eating with friends when I saw a beautiful rectangle of sticky rice, topped with raw, red meat, coming deliciously around the corner. Licking my lips, I picked it off the conveyer belt and got ready to eat. Horsemeat!
Where I come from, eating horse is really not done. A horse is man’s friend, like a dog…. not an appetizer. But after several years in Japan I’ve come to enjoy horse and think nothing of tucking in.
The twist at the end of this tale is that the meat wasn’t actually horse. It was, in fact, whale. Maybe some of my British values have remained because I felt a little shocked, and quite guilty, to have a plate of endangered sea creature in front of me.
But I still ate it. And it was yummy.

(Darren)

When I was nineteen, a friend and I travelled around Europe one summer. We went to lots of different cities, but for me the highlight of the trip came in Venice. One morning my friend wanted to sleep in, so I went out by myself. I had already been to all the famous places on the main island, so instead I took a boat across to one of the other islands. The island I chose is very small and there is nothing on it except for a large church. I walked around the island a little and then went into the church. There was nobody else there, and it was very cool, dark and peaceful. I started to look around and then one of the priests appeared. He was young and friendly, and started telling me about one of the paintings in the church. I don’t speak Italian, and he didn’t speak English, but we could understand each other. We used lots of gestures, we wrote some things down, and we occasionally had one or two words in common (like gesu - jesus). Then he offered to show me around the rest of the church. We looked at the paintings and the other works of art, and he also told me about the church itself. It was like a private tour. But the best thing about it was just talking to him. It made me realize that the only thing you need to communicate with someone is the desire to communicate.

(Dale)

You can find taxis almost everywhere in the world. However Japanese taxis are always a special experience. Although they can be a little pricey generally they are efficient, clean and very safe. Recently most taxis are equipped with GPS systems and some even have televisions. But the most unique feature of the Japanese taxi is of course the automatic door.
I always remember my first experience getting into a Japanese taxi. I was rushing and as I approached the rear door and reached out my hand it flung open and hit my hand. Bang! As you can imagine I was startled. Then from the inside an apologetic voice repeatedly chanted “sumimasen sumimasen”. Only my pride was injured because I had always known about the doors but had never used them. Thirteen years later it has just become natural for me to wait for the door to open.
Last year I returned to Australia to attend a friends wedding. I had to catch a taxi to the hotel and I found myself waiting for the door to open automatically. Through the window the taxi driver said, “Ah, you must have come in on the flight from Japan. You’ll have to open the door yourself.” I was so embarrassed that didn’t speak a word for the whole trip. I just pretended to be a tourist.

(Ken)

When I first came to Japan I lived for three years in Nagano prefecture. As you know Nagano is famous for its fruit and its beautiful hot springs. In those early Japan days in Nagano, I had no problem with the fruit, however the hot springs were another thing entirely. As a shy English person I felt that taking a bath was a very private activity and couldn’t understand why people would ever want to get into a hot bath with anyone else, especially a group of strangers. My friends tried very hard to persuade me to give it a go but I was determined never to go to a hot spring. They repeatedly said that bathing in a hot spring was a truly relaxing experience, especially one with a ‘Rotenburo’ an outside bath. Once I tried it, they said I’d be addicted, just like they were.
Despite my determination never to go to a hot spring, the day finally arrived when I could no longer avoid it. My friends and I had been camping in the mountains and the only places to wash were hot springs. At first I protested but my friends told me that they wouldn’t allow my smelly body in the car if I didn’t take a bath. I had no choice. I felt sick with nerves and shyness and I was convinced that as soon as I entered everyone would start pointing and sniggering or even worse, run away screaming, but apart from a few women who nodded hello, everyone got on with the business of washing and relaxing.
I quickly washed myself at the showers and headed to the outside bath, as there was almost no one in it. Self-consciously I lowered myself into the water and leaned my head against a rock. I was surprised to realize that my body had begun to relax. I felt like I was floating on air. It was a lovely feeling. I let out a sigh and looked at the mountains in the distance and I suddenly understood why people went to hot springs and why I would continue to go. My friends were right, I was addicted, and I still am to this very day.

(Avril)

For me, this really hit home shortly after coming to Japan. I had heard all the stories about vending machines and convenient stores on every street corner, but I never really thought much about it until one summer morning. I had decided (like most other newcomers) to climb Mt.Fuji with some friends. Night time was the best time to climb, I was told, so we set out about midnight and proceeded to spend the next 7 hours crawling up the mountain, wondering why this was such a popular ritual in Japan. Needless to say, I was surprised at how tough it was, and all my illusions of beauty and postcard type pictures soon disappeared. It will all be worth it, I kept telling myself, imagining the greatest sunrise in history, as seen from the top. Finally I made it to the top, and what was there to greet me? A line of vending machines, a ramen shop and a small convenience store. The moment was ruined, but I quickly got myself a nice cold drink. Yes, “convenient” is an appropriate word to describe Japan…but I am still not sure if it is a positive thing or not…

(Richard)

It was April 30, 1995, National Day in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam. It was evening, it was hot, and I was downtown with my friends, standing in the middle of the celebrations. A rain of black ash fell from the sky, bits of rockets from the hours-long firework display. A parade passed down the wide avenues of the city center, packed with people, bicycles, and of course, floats. The firework ash - often solid chunks - landed and stuck in my hair. The cracks from the sky mixed with conversation, laughter, and the drone of 50cc motorcycle engines. Fragrances and smells unknown filled the air around me.
The one part of the parade that surprised me was the sight of a large Mickey Mouse float. Why, in a country that had once fought (and defeated) the Americans, was a symbol of American imperialism included in Vietnam’s 20th Anniversary National Day parade? It was, to my mind, surprising.

(Brian)

I had lived in Japan for a year and half in Fukushima Prefecture before coming to Nagoya. I thought I had experienced every kind of strange or different custom the Japanese had compared with my native Scotland but I was to be surprised.
My friend in Nagoya was a member of a team in the Ichinomiya Soccer League and he asked if I wanted to play. I jumped at the chance coming from a soccer-mad-country. The night before he phoned and told me to meet him at Fukiage Subway Station where his friend Ken-chan would pick us up at 8 am. The next morning I got there early and excited, met Kev and 5 minutes later Ken-chan arrived in his 8-seater (8 nin nori) kind of family car. The side door opened automatically and what greeted me was a shoe rack with slippers and a plastic bin with plastic bags. Ken-chan, to my shock, expected us to take our shoes off before entering his car!
Luckily, this is something that doesn’t happen to often in Japan!

(Andy)

誰かが「アイスクリームとピクルスが食べたい」と言ったとき、あなたはその発言をどう捉えますか？
その言葉通り、「あぁ、この人はアイスクリームとピクルスが食べたいんだなぁ」とか、
「食べ合わせが悪そうだなぁ」と捉える場合が多いのでは？
でも、もしそう捉えない場合もあるとしたら…？
とある、アメリカ出身の先生いわく、「アイスクリームとピクルスが食べたい」と女性が言った場合、その言葉通りの意味だけではなく、なんと時には「ひょっとして妊娠！？」という場合もあるとか。
日本では「レモン食べたい」という言葉が持つ意味の可能性が、アメリカだとアイスクリームやピクルスに変わってしまうとは、同じ人間でも、接している文化や食生活が違ってくると、体が欲するものが違ってくるということなのでしょうね！