The premise of “When in Rome…” is that the subject is adapting to the new place by choice, and that there are a number of traits that one willingly and consciously absorbs into their being and embraces. Generally these are the aspects of that new culture that one holds in some esteem (and sometimes the seedier aspects that one is keen to participate in but couldn’t in their home environment without some kind of social penalty, in Japan that would mean something like slurping noodles in a ramen shop or talking with food in your mouth, either of which might have garnered me a slap from my moms).
The popular traits, the ones often touted by foreigners living here for an extended amount of time, are traits like patience, a reduced inclination towards confrontational situations, increased appreciation for nature, and the likes. These get the lion share of the global press, and thus Japan enjoys the reputation it has, and deservedly, of being place from which one can learn something of value about human nature and emerge a better person than they were when they first arrived.
But what doesn’t get enough press are the not-so admirable traits that one acquires, often without even being aware of it.
One such trait is this “shyness” business.
I touched on this in an earlier post, when a co-worker asserted the trope, “Japanese are shy” at me to justify behavior that could easily be classified as something much less savory.
Regardless of ones definition of or feelings on this behavior however, being on the business end of “shyness” on a consistent and predictable basis, does something to you. Over the years it has played a number of games with my emotions, ranging from indifference to ridicule to despair to anger to hate, back to despair, to tolerance and finally a disgruntled acceptance. That’s pretty much how my transition proceeded. But what was happening was, while I was consciously interacting with this energy, I suspect it was, behind the scenes, interacting with and acting on my unconscious, only revealing the damage it was doing sporadically, like a really smart virus determined to do tremendous damage while remaining undetected.
Little things would bring it to my attention…like what happened today.
I was outside in front of the job, just relaxing and taking in some rays, when I saw a man approaching me, looking at me and about to react to what he saw. I turned my back and put my head down. Didn’t want to be part of his impromptu English lesson or suck on his “shyness” today. A few minutes later, a woman came my way, with her kid, who was characteristically gawking from beside her. Didn’t want to see the boy clutch his mother’s leg in terror when I said “konnichiwa” or watch the mother’s alert level elevate from non-existent to orange or red in a fraction of a second, so I looked up at the sky, angled away from her, and scratched my head contemplatively until they had passed. Then resumed my siesta. I did something of this nature a couple of more times until I caught myself doing it, and laughed as two women passed by, my back being their only view of me, my face aimed at a plant that by all appearances was intriguing but in actuality was far from it.
I realized that I was exhibiting the same behavior I encounter regularly from Japanese people, and I was doing it effortlessly, without feeling anyway about it really. I’d been assimilated into “shyness” ducking the attention of people based on my presumption of how an interaction with them might play out.
I’d like to think that this is something I can consciously address and rectify…this is not the first time I’ve noticed it. In fact I’ve noticed it hundreds of times over the years, but I’d always managed to empower myself by convincing myself that I was doing it intentionally, a kind of “two can play that game” and “beat them to the punch,” a sort of silent retaliatory strike against this shyness business.
But now I’m not so sure…
Can anyone relate? Share your thoughts, But please be thoughtful…
Loco