I am getting very comfortable in my life in Japan, and I have to say – they really know how to make a person’s life comfortable. I am simultaneously content and worried. Content that my life here is convenient in a lot of little ways, but also worried about this seemingly inherent need to please people in this culture. I look around, and the people here appear to be happy, but surface appearances are never a reliable source of information. It gets me thinking about a subject I’ve discussed with many of my friends in France a couple months ago. Is there really a big difference between Japan and France when it comes to caring about group as opposed to individual interests? Even though I’m not a lawyer anymore, it is still a topic that I think about a lot. Maybe it’s because I feel that my own background is divided between the east and the west somehow. I grew up in a household that held mixed values, where the often more conservative perspective of the Asian continent met the so-called more open minded Western mentality.
It’s a theme that runs through my life a lot, and perhaps that’s why I’ve travelled mainly around Europe and Asia my whole life. It looks like I’m exploring the world, but actually I’m exploring myself. And what I have discovered in Japan is that even though the Eastern mindset is meant to be more focused on the collective, I feel very content as an individual. Perhaps this is the case because I don’t work in Japan for a Japanese company, where maybe I would need to contribute to society like everyone else and adhere to customs that I don’t like. But in any event, I feel that some degree of focus on a group of people as a whole… whether it is the local neighbourhood, a city or a country, gives some benefit to the private lives of individuals here. It’s not all about sacrifice. I feel still able to express myself and have my needs met.
In France on the other hand, the people there are known for being very individualistic. I’m sorry to say, but the stereotype that the French complain a lot is not entirely a lie. It comes naturally to many of my friends, and I used to dislike this. However, I’ve come to realise with time that complaining can be viewed as a right of expression of the individual. It’s the catalyst for a discussion at the dinner table, and not always just empty words. I might go so far as to say that complaining can be a passionate pursuit there. Maybe that’s why there are so many protests, across a range of topics, in France. And it causes a lot of inconvenience, that’s for sure. But somehow, within that inconvenience, there is a certain level of respect (even if it is very, very deep down) that everyone should be able to express themselves how they want.
In theory, I’ve come to realise that both approaches work well. If we all look after the group as a whole, then our lives as individuals will be safer and more convenient. However, if we all look after our individual interests, then all people will feel secure enough within themselves to be able to express their needs and receive what they want in life. Everything works well in theory, and I can generalise as much as I want about these two countries… but the singular truth I’ve seen everywhere is that reality is always a bit of a mess. No matter which country you live in, there is one struggle I’ve noticed and maybe I’ve noticed it because it seems to be the central struggle of my life too. The struggle to know where you end and others begin, or where others end and you begin. The boundaries, the lines and the corners that define your identity in relation to other people.
In every country exists a range of personalities, like the variety of pigments used in a painting. Although you may not see it, the colour blue is deep within both green and purple. It may look different from the outside, but there are similarities at the baseline. Everyone seeks to know who they are in one way or the other, and when we feel that others encroach on our ability to do that… then this is where problems begin. I feel very grateful and lucky that as I’ve travelled, I’ve witnessed lots of ways that people try to deal with this. I’ve seen people who’ve closed themselves shut, and others who have the courage to remain open. I’ve learned from kindness, just as much as I’ve learned from heartbreak, although kindness is the face I’ve seen the most no matter where I go. And behind real kindness, there’s always one thing I see: the knowledge that we all make up unique little pieces to a complete and awe-inspiring whole.
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