I feel that only now I am settling into life in Japan. People in the street have been greeting me, ohayo gozaimasu… konnichiwa… a quick nod of the head, a little smile. Now I am not afraid to put my head up when I go outside for a walk and say hello too. Every place has its own time, and Japan for me seems to have taken about a month. It’s the time it takes for the ice to melt, for someone to wipe away the frost from the opaque window, and look through.
Finally, even despite the rising humidity and heat, my appetite has come back. I take the chance on going to local places, forgetting about ratings or what’s trending. I have gotten back in touch with what travel is all about, and it’s something that anyone can do without even getting on a plane. I didn’t need to go to Kyoto or to Osaka to finally remember why I came here in the first place, and I didn’t need to see an awesome scenery, spectacle or architecture.
Instead, I got on a train, took a short ride to a city close to my apartment. Then I walked down an alley way, simply because it felt right. All the locals were going that way anyway. It was there that I found a little stall, selling sweets. I walked past it at first, and saw an older lady with a bandana hunched over and talking to customer who was buying a plastic container full of soft green and white mochi. I wanted to buy something from her, but I kept on going because I was having trouble finding a particular store where I wanted to buy lunch. Once I found what I wanted… my thoughts went back to that little stall.
Red awning hanging over the store front, framed by thick white banners with the black ink of kanji painted boldly on top. There was not an English word to be seen. Instead, there were an array of plastic boxes with various delicious looking treats. Purple, green, white, some were even transparent in colour… and white strips of paper were hanging off the table, striped with hand written characters. I approached, a little nervous of a misunderstanding, but everything went perfectly and I walked away with a smile in my face holding my lunch and dessert for later.
It makes me think… it’s all about preconceptions. I think when we go to a place, we often have a certain idea about the people. We can’t help it. We came into this world with expectations, and with something being expected of us. There is no point in denying yourself a certain expectation of something, just to avoid the risk of disappointment or an anti-climactic result. When we travel to a foreign country, it’s an exercise in learning to let go of our expectations and discover things that we’d never thought we’d see. Sometimes, we discover differences, but the most surprising are often the similarities.
Japan is one of those places that is often put on a pedestal, whether it is for good or bad reasons. Tokyo is one of the biggest cities in the world, if not the biggest, and it is admired for its safety, organisation and efficiency. It’s also known for some of the most strangest behaviours, discrimination and a culture of overworking. The city is not only a commercial hub, but there is also a strong presence of culture and zen spirituality found within the imperial gardens and shrines dotted through its streets. Seemingly contradictory. The stereotypes of the capital, often defines our expectations of a whole country.
But what my time in Japan has taught me, even since my first visit here in 2018, is that there is a nuance to everything. With a population of over 38 million in the greater Tokyo area, it is easy to see how sticking to a general stereotype does a disservice to discovering the things that we all have in common. We forget about individuality, which is still important even in a culture that values the collective. When we consider that Tokyo is only around 30% of the entire population of Japan, then we realise that a generality is only useful as a gentle guide and is not intended to be dumped onto a singular person.
Staying in the Kansai region has taught me that there is so much more to Japan than I originally thought. The people here have surprised me, and made me think twice about all the cultural “rules” that people try to warn you about when you arrive. It’s nerve wrecking sometimes, to enter the unknown, explore it for yourself and come to your own opinion… but it’s something that has always enriched my appreciation for life. Sometimes all it takes is to walk a path you hadn’t walked before, but had a good feeling about. You could make a connection, or maybe not, but either way you took the first step in starting your own adventure. We look back and see that it’s not actually a big risk, but it’s always worth taking.
Leave a Reply