Bitter Sweet Japan

Having travelled around Asia and Eastern Europe, Thailand was in the lead for where I would base myself in 2023. It is low cost, fun and has a good expat community. I returned for a second look in September 2022. I spent time looking at apartments in Bangkok and working out where I might like to live in the city.

One evening I went out to eat at an Izakaya (Japanese restaurant) where I’d gotten to know the manager. It was just like an Izakaya that you’d find in Japan, down to the TV with Japanese programs playing in the background. I lived in Japan from May 2015 to March 2018. Ever since then, whenever I ate at Japanese restaurants, I would feel a wave of emotion rising up inside. That night at the Izakaya the same thing happened. My eyes moistened and I laughed at myself.

“Why the emotion”, I wondered as I sipped my Asahi. It made no sense. It’s not like I had grown up there and been forced to flee. If I had to give a rational explanation it might be that my experience living there was transformative. But that doesn’t explain everything. In fact Japan and it’s culture had captivated me ever since I was a child. I saw the Karate kid and I was hooked.

As I walked home from the Izakaya, I knew that I had to visit Japan again before making the call on living in Bangkok.

By November I was on a flight to Tokyo.

No sooner did I get on the Japan Airlines flight than I started to realise anew all the good things about Japan. The airplane was only half full. The cabin crew were dressed to perfection with not a hair out of place. The service was amazing. It was by far the best flight I had ever been on. Everything just worked. And that’s Japan. People do their jobs well, better yet, they take pride in their work.

Japan had just reopened to tourists, so I had to go through a bit of rigmarole with their online covid screening, but it all went smoothly. Soon I was on a train hurtling from Narita airport to downtown Tokyo. I walked around Tokyo in awe. The weather was beautiful and mild, 22C during the day. The leaves had started to turn beautiful orange, red and yellow. Unlike industrial grey Osaka where I had previously lived, Tokyo is a grand city filled with green spaces, tree lined canals, art galleries and high end shops.

As I travelled around Japan however I also started to see the things that were not so good and I was reminded of the reasons why I left. Much like rekindling an old romantic flame, after the initial passions recede, you start to remember the reasons why you broke up the first time. If it didn’t work out the first time, you can be 99% sure it won’t the second, third or fourth. But I suppose the world keeps teaching us the same lessons until we learn them.

So I learnt my lesson a second time on Japan. As the autumn turned to winter, and the last of the orange leaves were swept away I had to once again accept that Japan is not somewhere I could stay longer term. I walked and walked, after a while I realised I could have kept walking and nobody would say a word to me unless I was doing something wrong, or buying something. This may be an exaggeration, but it struck me that I was more interested in Japan, than Japan was interested in me. And that’s just fine when you’re on a holiday, but anything beyond that and it can get pretty isolating.

Some people work at it and create friendships in Japan, although it is most often with other expats. To be invited into someone’s home in Japan as a foreigner is an exceptionally rare event. When I lived in Japan I took this personally. I thought perhaps there was something that I was doing wrong. And indeed I probably could have been more open at the time. But seeing the place again with fresh eyes, I saw clearly that this had more to do with Japan than me.

Along with that there this is a subtle but pervasive lack of validation. Not needing a whole lot of validation from the outside world is an admirable trait, but in the end we are social creatures and when we are not seen and acknowledged for who we are, it tends to wear us down. If this occurs over long periods it can even start to erode our self-esteem.

On my travels I saw a few stark examples. The most memorable of which was Omar (name changed), a half Afghani, half Sudanese giant of a man. He arrived in Japan as an infant with his parents, escaping the Afghan war. I was introduced to him by a man I knew in Kobe, Orestis. Oresti, a Greek, had lived in Kobe for decades. Now in his retirement he ran a little hobby store selling Greek trinkets. I told Oresti that I was considering moving back to Japan and he suggested that I speak with Omar across the way.

Omar ran a store that sold lapis lazuli and Arabian carpets, which were hung on the walls of his crowded office lined with stacks of papers, pamphlets and folders. Omar looked to be in his mid 40s. I felt I was intruding at first, but Omar was very welcoming. He had a very calm way of speaking.

We talked at length. He told me about his experiences growing up in Japan, where aside from his background and family life, he had grown up exactly like Japanese kids, only that he couldn’t have looked less Japanese. With dark features, standing 6 foot 5 inches tall and heavily built, I knew Omar would always have stood out. So when he told me he had been bullied in school, I was saddened but not surprised. He shook his head as he explained and said, “I don’t know how people can be so cruel”.

Omar was using a cane to walk around. I wanted to ask what happened, but thought it impolite. And though his voice was calm when he spoke, I picked up a quiver where perhaps there shouldn’t have been one. This giant of a man, who also seemed to be highly intelligent, should have been brimming with confidence. But his upbringing had taken its toll. Japan had taken its toll on him. After 30 years living there, he was still in limbo, without citizenship. Unacknowledged. Looked at, but not seen.

There are always two sides to any story, but Omar’s story is part of an undeniable trend. Japan is not a great place to live if you are different. The experience pretty much made up my mind, if I was going to live overseas again it would be somewhere with a lot of expats. I just didn’t want that kind of an uphill battle to fit in.

Contrast that with Greece. Greece is like the anti-Japan. Nothing works very well, but when people look at you in the eyes, you see their entire soul, and they see yours.

I spent some time in Greece last year in my Mum’s hometown. The first morning I went across the road from our house to the store to buy eggs. The owner, a little lady in her late 70’s, looked me up and down. She may have been a little surprised when I spoke to her in Greek. I explained who I was and that I was staying across the road with Mum. She smiled as she held my gaze and declared to her family, “he is one of ours”.

I still love Japan, I plan to continue my Japanese studies and visit frequently. But in the end, it is another island on the way home.