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Tuesday, August 24, 2010

A Culture to Call Your Own?

So back in America and experiencing some major culture shock with my Korean relatives in CA versus Japan; I’m really starting to think they are just the opposite. First call in America was from my dad yelling about how I should have contacted him right away after I landed in LAX – to think that I actually missed this when I was with my Japanese host family who never even rose their voices to each other. And then I was thrust into a church camping trip with my uncle’s Korean-American church to Yosemite, where I once again experienced the constant quarrels in the car and the thirty-minute arguments about the rules of Mafia before ever actually starting the game. At which point I asked my cousin, “Why?” and she simply shrugged and said, “Because we’re Korean.” Apparently, too Korean for me. I don’t know how much different Korean-American culture is from Korean culture, but according to my other cousin who studied abroad in Korea last semester, the Korean-American culture in California is pretty similar because of the steady flow of immigrants from South Korea. If that’s true, then I don’t think I fit in either Korean or Japanese culture but somewhere in between. Is this what makes me American?

And when I look at the bigger picture, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry because everything is just so IRONIC:

1. In my first post, I admitted I was hesitant to travel to Japan because it meant I would be seeing it before I ever saw Korea – I assumed that the more I delved into Japan’s culture, the farther I would distance myself from Korea. In some ways, that may have been true, but in other ways, Japan has pushed me think about Korea in a way that living in America never could. America is all about the melting pot and being whatever culture you want to be, but being in Japan for two months has made me appreciate certain things about Korean culture. Little things like Korean BBQ (I almost cried when my relatives took me to a Korean BBQ place in LA and I ate like TEN different types of Korean meat) to larger cultural aspects like the politeness factor (“See, see! I TOLD you Koreans were more sincere!” my Korean-American friend told me when I complained about this – but maybe Koreans could afford to be a little less prideful? Ha).

2. And now I can speak more with my grandpa in Japanese than Korean. Again the irony – no one told me my grandpa could speak Japanese until he was like, “Let’s practice,” one day on the phone. And he’s much better than me because he uses all these colloquialisms and speaks with the right inflections. But of course, the only reason he knows Japanese is because of the annexation. My grandpa has always been the good-natured one, and he’s been complimenting on how “well” I can speak Japanese, but sometimes I wonder what he really thinks. I was so taken aback by his Japanese at first that I kept replying in Korean on the phone because I wasn't sure where he was going with this. I mean, wouldn’t he rather speak in Korean to me? But I even wrote in the first post that my Japanese would surpass my Korean this summer – I’m still getting used to the concept even though I’ve told myself a million times that this would happen – the same thing happened for Spanish, so why is it so much harder this time?

3. BUT I’m almost positive that I’m not going to take Korean as a class next fall because I realized how much I hated textbook learning this summer, even for Japanese. I know for Japanese, some textbook learning is necessary because I can’t just pick up grammar points and kanji naturally, but I wonder if I can at least attempt to “naturalize” my Korean. I’ve said before that I used to think I would never be able to become a native speaker in Korean again, but there are some instances that make me think otherwise. My Korean listening, for one. My friend in Tokyo took me to a Japanese-Korean church where I heard the message in Korean and Japanese sentence-by-sentence. For Japanese, I still go through a translation process to English, but for Korean, having Korean parents has at least ingrained something of a natural listening skill. I don’t think to myself, “Oh, he’s using that grammar pattern and that particle and that tense…” And I want to believe that my speaking last summer was on the verge of becoming something like that. Of course, if I really want to be FLUENT in Korean, I know I’ll have to take some kind of standard approach to learning grammar - actually, I've been thinking it would be much better to learn Korean from a Japanese perspective if my Japanese is ever that good, since they're so similar - the irony continues, right? But for now, I think I want to try the “coffeeshop” approach and learn as much Korean as I can before I’m ready for that point.

Thank you, Richard Light, for helping me realize things about language and culture – and defining what I want to call my own – that I couldn’t have figured out in America. Actually, I still don't know if I even have a "culture" that I can claim as my own, but I'm starting to think more and more that it's okay - maybe this is what being American means. Not the epitome of American culture, but just an example of what it can be. And I’m not exactly sure if this blog is what the Light Fellowship expected when they gave me the funds to travel to Japan, since it doesn’t seem to talk much about the language program. Rather, these are simply my own experiences, and I hope you’ve enjoyed reading them.
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All Around Japan

Two weeks of travel post-program (even though my bank account is not looking so hot right now) was one of the BEST decisions of my life. Because honestly, I was getting quite tired of Japan as HIF was winding down – tired of learning Japanese from a textbook (and continuing to suck at kanji), tired of the politeness factor, and tired of little Hakodate. (No hard feelings for Hakodate though – I’ve definitely had some good moments in this quaint Japanese town, but I’m starting to realize how much of a big-city person I am.) But after 12 days of jumping around Tokyo, Fukuoka, Hiroshima/Miyajima, Himeji, Kyoto, Nara, and Osaka, Japan is really starting to grow on me. Honestly, if I had limited myself to Hakodate, I might never have thought about coming back for something other than studying Japanese. But now I could definitely see myself working here after Yale, at least for a couple years. Once again, many thanks to the Light Fellowship for helping me learn things I couldn’t have learned, even at a school like Yale.

One thing that surprised me about my travels was how DIFFERENT each city was. I mean, I guess you wouldn’t say that LA and New York are that similar either, but it was so much easier to sense the atmosphere of each city in Japan. For example, if Tokyo was the New York of the U.S., then Fukuoka would be somewhere in California. Palm trees, people in T-shirts and shorts, and a really pretty seaside park. I originally didn’t have Fukuoka in my plans, but with the two-week JR pass, why not, even only for a day?

Fukuoka at night -- isn't it beautiful?

Next stop was Hiroshima, where I rendezvoused with my lovely sensei from Yale, Mammoto-sensei. We had Hiroshima’s famous okonomiyake before she walked me to the Peace Memorial Park and the A-Dome. Pretty moving, especially the Japanese children ringing the bell at the children’s memorial.

With Mammoto-sensei at Hiroshima

Ringing the bell at the children's memorial at Peace Memorial Park

After the park, I headed to nearby Miyajimaguchi station, where I took a ferry to Miyajima to visit the famous Itsukushima Shrine, known for its “floating” torii gate that seems to be floating on the water at high tide. Although I went at low tide, it meant I could walk right up to the gate and see just how massive it was. Someday, I think I’d like to come back and see it at high tide too.

 Giant torii gate of Itsukushima Shrine


Next day, I stopped at Himeji for an afternoon before finally crashing at Kyoto. I was at an all-time high in Himeji because the JR station gives out free rental bikes! I have been itching to ride a bike in Japan ever since the first few weeks I’ve been here, not to mention the fact that EVERYONE, from high school guys to white-haired grandmas, is whizzing by on their bikes in Japan. In fact, I was so pumped about having a bike that I biked around for two hours after visiting Himeji-jo and Koko-en and got myself lost in the process. Ah, how I missed biking.

Himeji-Jo

Kyoto was an extended stay because I had planned to visit Nara and Osaka too as day trips from Kyoto. So I’d been going at a pretty rapid pace in terms of sightseeing, but I KILLED myself while I was in Kyoto. The first full day, I saw Kinkaku-ji (Golden Pavilion), Ninna-ji, and Ginkaku-ji (Silver Pavilion, even though it’s not silver) before walking the 哲学の道 (Path of Philosophy) to see Nanzen-ji. In the evening, I knocked out Higashi and Nishi Honganji by the station. I think I enjoyed these two the best that day because when it comes to temples, I prefer size and the ability to walk around inside (plus they were FREE!). Kinkaku-ji’s a little overrated – and Ginkaku-ji has such a nicer garden – but I guess the golden color is enough to make it famous.

Daibutsu at Todai-ji! Picture quality isn't that great, but there are lots of other beautiful sculptures at the temple too.

Day two at Kyoto, I decided to do Nara – the Daibutsu at Todai-ji was so worth the 45-minute walk from the JR station in the heat. I also visited some other shrines and temples following the recommended route in the Lonely Planet, but I found myself already back at the station by 1 p.m. So instead of going back to Kyoto, I decided to do Osaka in the afternoon. I was so EXHAUSTED by the end of the day, but once again, it was completely worth it. Osaka is definitely dirtier than Tokyo, and this could just be a really shallow generalization, but did the people seem more tan? (especially the guys). But I loved Osaka too, especially when I caught the Obon celebration on the river in the Dotonbori area.

Osaka's Obon celebration in the Dotonbori


For some reason, I didn’t give myself much of a break the next day either. I did another Lonely Planet route for the Higashiyama area in Kyoto to see various shrines/temples/parks, including Kiyomizudera, one of my favorite, if not my favorite, temple in Japan so far – the view from the veranda is simply breathtaking. I also walked through the more traditional areas of Kyoto nearby (Sannen-zaka and Ninnen-zaka), but the shops weren’t even open in the morning, so I promised I’d come back later. 


Kiyomizudera - much more impressive than Kinkakuji (the Golden Pavilion)

I finished all this and Nijo-jo (which was just as impressive as Himeji-jo I thought, but perhaps this is only because of the renovations that are blocking off the main parts of Himeji-jo) by noon, so I headed on the train for Fushimi Inari Taisha, the shrine that’s famous for its pathways of never-ending torii gates. This was one of my most anticipated sights in Japan, and it didn’t disappoint at all. One of my favorite shrines right alongside the one at Miyajima. The entire walk is around two hours – I didn’t plan on going the whole way, but then I found myself asking, why not? Even with the heat and the uphill climb, once I reached the top, I had such a rush of adrenaline that it was no problem going down. The top isn’t really much of a view, just a shrine like all the other spots on the way up, but just being able to say I did the entire pilgrimage of torii gates counts for something, right?


The journey is worth so much more than the destination...

In the evening, I went to Hanakomichi to catch a glimpse of a few geisha heading for their evening appointments. I felt kind of bad for them, since the tourist swarmed around like flies every time they stepped out to get into a cab. But my, they were pretty! 

Geisha!

Finally, finally, I slept in (well, not really sleeping in for most people, but still more than usual) on my last day in Kyoto. I went to Nishiki Market to take in all the wafting smells of Kyoto cuisine before revisiting Ninnen-zaka and Sannen-zaka when the omiyage and teashops were actually open. Last thing was visiting the Kyoto Imperial gardens in the afternoon (although the Tokyo Imperial East Gardens were much prettier). Honestly, I loved every city that I went to, and I can’t even choose a favorite because I had so many amazing experiences in each one.

In the end though, I think if I had to choose a place to live, it would be Tokyo – cleanliness, the immense size, and the transportation system that connects it all (so much better than Kyoto’s slow, crowded buses!). Although I liked the easygoing feel of Fukuoka and Osaka, I feel like there is so many possibilities in Tokyo – for whom, I don’t know, but maybe we’ll see in a couple years? I realize now I haven't posted any pictures of Tokyo, but I really couldn't choose one that captures this city - just come and see for yourself ;) 

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Monday, August 2, 2010

The Thing I Miss About Home the Most

(Might be the hardest post I’ve had to write.)

Yesterday was a roller coaster of emotions. I’ve told countless people that I never get homesick, which has pretty much stayed true until this point – on the bright side, I don’t miss too much if I'm away from home, but on the other hand, I feel guilty for not being able to say, “I miss you” to my parents with some sincerity. But yesterday, when I went to my last church service in Hakodate, it became clear to me that there was definitely one thing I truly missed about home.

It was the day when a middle-aged woman named Iriguchi-san gave her testimony before she was to be baptized. The first time I met Iriguchi-san, I was a little confused because she kept dropping her consonants and cracking her voice, which made her Japanese really hard to understand. Then she unraveled a whiteboard she had been carrying in a handkerchief and motioned for me to write on it. Turns out she was deaf, so everyone communicated with her through this whiteboard. (She also knew Japanese sign language, but that was definitely out of my reach.) When I wrote that I was from Kentucky, her eyes lit up, and she asked about the Amish living in Kentucky because she was really interested in Amish crafts. Every time I went to church, she had been all smiles and was always motioning people to write on her whiteboard.

But yesterday, when she talked about losing her hearing as a child and divorcing her husband at the podium, when I saw her shed tears and noticed that it was the first time I was seeing someone in Japan release enough emotion to cry in front of other people, I realized that the very thing I missed most about home was the feeling of being REAL with someone else. Of course, it’s not just limited to Japan – in any situation when you’re away from home or college – when you’re away from the people you’re most closest to – that kind of authenticity is hard to come by. And of course, you shouldn’t expect it if you’ve only met people for a couple days, or even weeks. Nevertheless, it felt so GOOD to walk up to the front and hold Iriguchi-san’s hand at the end of the service to congratulate her, tears still streaming from her face, but this time, not tears of sadness but tears of inexpressible joy.

Iriguchi-san's baptism

 I’ve talked about my unsettlement at Japan’s reputation for politeness, and now I think that while part of that phenomenon may be true, I feel like it might have intensified by being away from the people who I’ve always been able to approach about anything. But nonetheless, when I go to this church in Hakodate, I feel such a warmth from these people that I know comes straight from their hearts, even if I can only say so much in my broken Japanese. When Jade and me were saying our “さようなら”s (which is not just “Good-bye”, but literally “Farewell (I won’t be seeing you for a while)”), they all shouted “また来てね!” (“Come again!”). And maybe I can.

Me and Jade with Pastor 本多

One of HIF's directors, Fukuhisa-san. She introduced Jade and me to this church!

Until then, I want to become fluent in Japanese. Well, that part was obvious, right? I mean, I’m devoting my entire summer to studying Japanese in an intensive language program. But no, I want to become FLUENT fluent – like fluent enough to explain my favorite Bible verse and convey what it personally means to me (which I tried to do one Sunday but could only say so much). Even though I’m really eager to end classes (and get on a functional sleep schedule again :) ), I realize that a summer is just too short to really delve into a language, much less form relationships with the people around you so that you CAN start to become real with them. My transcript will say two credits of intermediate Japanese, but what is a credit, really? I have SUCH a long way to go. I strive for the day when I’m able to express personal emotions and experiences, even if they're difficult to explain in one’s native language. My church in Hakodate has shown me what can be possible, even in a country where people are expected to suppress their own emotions. When I go back to America, I think I’m able to leave Japan with not a frustration of people’s unwavering exteriors, but rather a hope of how to overcome that through trust. 

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