Made in America? Part 2

As I wrote last week, the main reason I wanted to travel abroad was to learn about foods, sights, and customs foreign to the ones I had grown up with in Kansas. And of course, I am learning about all of those things. My biggest surprise, however, is that the majority of understanding I have acquired abroad has little to do with Japan and the Japanese people, but rather of the U.S. and myself.

Living halfway across the world from the place I grew up has provided me with such perspective and insight into my home country and how my personality and worldview have been so substantially shaped by where I come from. I came to Japan thinking that everything about me was uniquely Jennifer. And though intellectually I understood that we are all, to some degree, products of our environment; I suppose I only really considered family and, to a lesser extent, our hometown to be factors when considering environment. And to be honest, I never really counted my hometown as a major shaping factor of my personality. Before coming to Japan, I never realized that so much of me is not uniquely Jennifer or even quintessential girl from small town Kansas, but can really be described as quintessentially American.

These past few weeks, my schools have been rehearsing for their Sports Day – similar to the Field Days that I remember as a kid. And I’m sure many of you, especially my classmates from Osage, are wondering why they need to rehearse for weeks prior to event. We never rehearsed anything. The more I watch their rehearsals, however, the more I realize that the comparison to my Field Day is misleading. A Japanese school’s undokai – Sports Day – is rather like a miniature Olympics. Most of the rehearsals consist of practicing the Opening Ceremony to begin the day. The ceremony takes about 45 minutes when run straight through and consists of a lot of marching, flag waving, and speeches punctuated with cheers. Nothing in this seems particularly alarming, until you realize that it is all done in unison with military-like precision. Watching little kids march is cute, seeing first graders marching perfectly as a group is surprisingly disturbing. I never realized how suspicious and apprehensive I get when I see a group of people acting in unison – the military occasionally being the exception that proves the rule – especially when it comes to children.

When I was talking with my Dad recently about this, he asked if I could imagine my 6-year-old nephew, Anthony, marching in unison and standing at attention for 45 minutes while flags were raised and speeches given. Knowing Anthony, I had to laugh at such an implausible picture. But, I can’t help but believe that it would be a unlikely scenario for the vast majority of American children. These Japanese children have been raised from birth to behave this way. In most of Asia, the group is considered much more important than the individual, and this principle permeates almost every element of society. On one level, I appreciate the discipline ingrained in these children. At my core, however, I just feel itchy when I see such group behavior. I have discovered my quintessential American core of prizing the individual over the group, even if it means disorder – and maybe especially if it means disorder. I always thought my drive to be contrary was a unique element of me. Now, I can’t help but feel that is rather an expression of my American-ness.

An example Stewart told me about occurred during the first year he and Nobie moved to Japan with their young daughter. Stewart was home alone when a policeman came to the door. The policeman asked many questions about how many people lived there, how old their daughter was, what Stewart and Nobie did for jobs, etc. Stewart answered, thinking they were in trouble somehow, but the policeman simply smiled and welcomed him to the neighborhood. As Stewart was telling me this, the hairs on the back of my neck stood out and he laughed at my horrified expression. ‘That’s exactly how I felt,’ he said. When Nobie came home, he was practically in a rage. How dare the policeman ask all of those questions for no reason. Nobie tried to explain how this was common practice for the police – an effort to better know the people they are protecting. Nobie explained this was done to reassure the public. From an American viewpoint though, both Stewart and I viewed it as an invasion into their privacy. I come from a suspicious people.

A similar practice I have witnessed is the trash collection. In Japan, trash is divided into glass, aluminum, plastic, and everything else. And all trash goes in these particular bags – green for glass and aluminum, pink for miscellaneous, etc. The first time I helped Stewart take the trash to the neighborhood drop-off, though, I saw that there was a place on the bags for the name of the family to be written on it. And everyone in the neighborhood had written their names on their trash bags - everyone but Stewart. It’s not mandatory, he explained, just highly encouraged. I would refuse, too. There is no reason anyone needs to know which trash is mine. The Japanese people seem to believe - like our current President - that if you have nothing to hide, there is nothing to worry about. It’s a conviction I reject intellectually: but more importantly, I have realized, one I reject instinctually. My privacy is paramount.

On a less hallowed subject, I am the quintessential American when it comes to weather. Japanese carry umbrellas everywhere all of the time. And they get them out if there is a hint of rain. I, on the other hand, am constantly saying, ‘It’s not raining right now,’ and ‘Well, only sprinkling. I don’t need an umbrella.’ And Stewart does the exact same thing.

There are so many more examples, especially when it comes to more personal things, but the gist is, everyday I realize more and more that I am not simply Jennifer. I am Jennifer from Kansas, USA, and all elements of that sentence are vital when it comes to understanding who I am. I thought I had fully ‘discovered’ myself – as trite as that phrase is – during my years in L.A. I am beginning to understand that I will always be learning new things about myself. And this will be, I think, the most important thing to come from my time in Japan.

Next time – I’ll have new pictures posted on Flickr.com and Stewart and Nobie’s daughter and granddaughter come to visit.

- Jenny