• International Problems.
• Cultural challenges, or not.
• Asking the real questions.
• Welcome to the solution!
• Success and failure.

International problems

The exponential growth of the internet and subsequent boom in international communication has, in some ways, made the world seem smaller and less alien, uniting previously disparate peoples by revealing a wealth of shared experiences. With that has come a collective realisation (and a resultant flurry of memes) that many of us have been prepared in our youth to deal with problems which are unlikely to occur, despite the ubiquity of cautionary tales.

We were advised not to struggle in quicksand, or else suffer the hackneyed demise of a cartoon baddie. Told that a judicious punt to the nose of an attacking shark will bring about in it a sudden and timely loss of appetite. And should we happen to catch fire, then shortly after the requisite “Oh no!” or “This can’t be good,” I am sure the words “Stop, drop, and roll” will come soaring back to us from the distant mists of our youth.

All unarguably very serious situations to find oneself in, and yet, all thankfully rare. 

A similar thing can be said of a good amount of the most popular advice dished out to those anticipating their first experience of visiting or living in Japan. As it happens, you might be glad to hear, some of the internet’s favourite cautionary tales and tidbits turn out to be about as applicable to daily life as “ i before e except after c”. That is to say: weird rules, full of deficiencies. 

“Don’t walk and eat!”

Most of the notorious dilemmas caused by cultural differences can simply be navigated by quietly being aware of your surroundings and watching what others do. Others are so unusual that you are unlikely to have to deal with them at all. These would fall into the avoid quicksand and sharks category.

Meanwhile, some of the more common challenges people face are more comparable to, say, an understanding of budgeting for taxes and bills as an adult; i.e., scarcely a word whispered of them in nearly two decades’ worth of education and yet, as it transpires, uncomfortably pertinent to one’s daily existence.

One of the most frequently overlooked problems is exemplified by a question that has repeatedly blindsided me.

“How do you make Japanese friends?”

The first couple of times I was asked left me floundering. How do you make Japanese friends? Surely, they should know as well as I do! This was not only coming from new arrivals but expats who had been living in the country longer than I had. How do you make friends at all? At what point does one stop being an acquaintance and become a friend? It’s quite the question. Given that merely being confronted with it seemed to throw me halfway into an existential panic, I never felt comfortable that I was qualified to answer.

It was only after a while that I began to realise that I wasn’t really being asked how to make friends at all.

This question almost always came up during the same topic of conversation, namely on how to improve at speaking in Japanese.

Everyone knows, or finds out pretty quickly if they don’t, that the best way to make rapid progress in a language is to communicate with native speakers. Japan is famously full of Japanese people. It is also famous for performing pretty poorly at English. These two things combined might make you think it would be hard not to find someone to speak with in Japanese.

Despite this, it remains one of the principal challenges for many foreign residents and one which some never fully overcome.

Why is this?

One reason is that despite being self-admittedly terrible at English, a good number of Japanese people will insist on trying what little they have with you and turn a deaf ear to any of your attempts to communicate in their own language. The vast majority of residents never leave Japan, with only about a quarter of them even having passports. As a result on their home turf you are the rarer commodity in this battle of ‘find-a-native-speaker-to-practice-with’. It’s not a chance they will likely pass up. Still, there is nothing quite like struggling valiantly to utter the new Japanese expression you’d been rehearsing in your head for the past 24 hours only to be hit with a: “Sank you”.

My spirits? Well, yeah, a bit.

Another reason is hinted at in the wording of that troublesome question. “Friend” not just “someone to talk to.” People want someone they feel happy speaking with, someone who they can trust to be kind and patient with their early attempts to say things out loud. Or even someone predictably unkind in a way which they have grown to know and love. They are seeking ease and comfort and familiarity. A safe space.

Hard truths.

Unfortunately, the early stages of learning a language can be, and often are, decidedly uncomfortable. The first few times a newly acquired expression is tried out “in the wild,” so to speak, it is often met by blank incomprehension. A reaction unsoftened by any concern for your feelings and frequently coupled with an impatient queue of people waiting behind with no interest in being extras in the first few scenes of your language journey. Just get on the bus. 

However, there are some good starting points. Safe havens. Little beacons of light and hope dotted across the country. Always ready to fling open their doors and welcome you into the safety of their fluorescent bosoms.

IRASHAIMASEEEE

The kombinis and their dutiful staff. Captive audiences, contractually obliged to give you the time of day and with a reassuringly predictable set of questions and responses. An ideal place to hone a few choice expressions. Admittedly, recently and especially in the larger cities, there are growing numbers of employees with irritatingly good English. Many of them are not even from Japan themselves. They will be frustratingly accommodating and foil any such designs. Avoid these; they are useless to you.

No, find a nice quiet one stocked with natives who had horrible and uninspiring English teachers growing up. Then try and navigate your way through the checkout process entirely in Japanese without either party reverting to charades. Bonus points if they look bored throughout the interaction.

It might sound simple, but did you get exactly what you wanted from the experience? Or are you walking out of the store with a cold meal you wished had been warmed up, a fork instead of chopsticks, a straw for the carton of milk you’d intended to make last a week, and yet another plastic bag to add to your growing collection?

In practice.

I often took advantage of my local Lawson to this end. I’d listen to the language the other customers used, make mental notes and look it up later. I’d decide on a phrase or expression I wanted to try out and make it the goal of that evening’s visit.

In this way, I’d learn new ways to casually refuse a bag, how to buy stamps, cigarettes, or order things from the hot counter. I even gradually began to take a sort of pride in the increasing mundanity of the interactions. After all, if the teller finds the language you are using interesting or worth commenting on then you are probably doing something wrong. 

Conclusion: case study

One evening I fell into a conversation with a very amicable member of staff who, as it transpired, was planning to move to the neighbouring town to study. We even ended up exchanging contact details so we could keep in touch when he did. It wasn’t until much later, with his cheerful petition to “please come back every day so I can practise my English” still ringing in my ears, that I saw I’d been thoroughly outplayed at my own game and possibly, even made a friend.

Mission failed successfully!