Dear Japan,

You know I love you. I have come to care for you very deeply, and you will always remain very special to me. You know, we shared a lot over this past year and a half, and I hate to write you like this, but perhaps its easier for both of us. I put this letter off for a long time, thinking that you would just go away, but I just can't forget you. So I know this might hurt, but I have to say a few things.

You have a lot of good things going for you. Takuya, for example, will always be there for you. He is a wonderful and hilarious man, and he will take good care of making sure that you don't stay out of too much trouble.

You'll always be able to take solace in the Heinan Gardens in Kyoto, which are amazingly beautiful. Try not to let them get too much sun, will you?











The concrete Toriis - ah, they are interesting. One never knows what will happen when you walk through them. This little gate, for example, leads to one of the most controversial religious sites in the entire world! Remember how a single politician's visit sparked controversy across Asia? It sure doesn't look all that controversial from the outside....





Still - I'm so glad I visited these places while we were spending time together. I spend quite a bit of time considering the historical debate that this place ignites among your citizens (quietly, and with respectful aims towards consensus, of course!) and around the world.

Of course, you aren't afraid of public opinion at all, are you? Perhaps that is part of your charm, that you can be so fascinated with cultures from around the world - yet quietly refuse to bow to even the most torrential international pressure.

(Whale restaurant, anyone?)

Also, I have to tell you that you can sometimes drink a bit too much sake. This can bring out bad behaviour in your friends.


Of course, one of the things I like best about you is your beauty. There is something magical about the marks your citizens have made on the earth.


Thousands of years or thousands of pounds of steel and concrets - you've built some amazing things. In fact, some of them are stacked on top of each other!

Of course, no one is perfect. You have a few really serious fetishes that are a bit much.

Neon, for example. Someone needs to find the Tokyo neon sign guy and chain him up. Just for one week of the year. Please?

Furthermore, you have a shoe fetish that makes the entire cast of "Sex in the City" look like sensible women with a small number of comfortable shoes.

You also have that whole semi-porno cartoon thing going on. Which is cool and all - we all have our private lives - but do you really have to advertise it (and READ it) on the train?



Especially when any self-respecting businessman can so easily blow a week's salary at a hostess bar that provides ACTUAL, live, giggling girls that pour his drinks for him? I mean, you have about ten near every train station, so maybe you could open up a cartoon-porn-reading nook or something? What's that? You have those and they're called "comic book stores?".

Oh well. At least the hostess clubs believe in truthful advertising.

And you take care of them, too! You even have a place for those well paid hostesses to unwind over drinks poured by pretty boys with 70 000 yen haircuts.



So, you know that I love you, Japan. But, as with any pile of sashimi, stack of 1000 yen notes or year and a half of international adventure, all things must eventually come to a close. My time with you has been wonderful, educational, shocking (for both of us, I suppose) and more interesting than I ever hoped it could have been.

I learned several new languages (spoken Japanese, written Japanese, drunken businessman Japanese), made many new friends, and learned an entirely new set of cultural cues. (bow-lock anybody?)

Still, I had to leave you.

Why? Well, I found someone else, you see. Yes, I did know her all along, but now things are getting serious, and you just can't come between us any more.

Cheesy, silly, ridiculous love. You offered a life of adventure, Japan, but at the end of the day I'm going to come home instead. This love is good stuff – I suggest you try it some time. I’ll let you know how the whole marriage thing works out too– most likley with fewer offensive videos.

Anyway, I just wanted to write and let you know that I'm doing well. I'm sure you've got lots of boys that will give you the attention you crave.

I'll think of you often, I promise. Don't worry about me. I'll find some new adventures.

Tokyo, I'll miss ya. Don't offend too many people without me.

I took one last picture of you, from the bus on the way to the airport. I hope you don't mind.

PS: Write back soon.

Wa: Do not disturb

Sometimes, when I see a particularly wonderful sign, I make out with it.

For example, here is a sign that discourages litter in a truly Japanese manner.


I like to make out with signs that use this much subtlety. It shows my subtle appreciation of their subtle subtlety.

This sign is a great example of the Japanese phenomenon of "wa." Wa means "harmony" (EDIT: The character for "WA" is "和". BIG thanks to Mr. or Ms. "Ouch!" for that!). Simply, keeping the "harmony" means that people go to great lengths not to rock the boat or cause any conflict that would disturb this "wa".

The "Wa" is not only a big part of Japanese signage, it is also a huge part of Japanese working culture. In practice, keeping this "harmony" means that when I have a problem with someone (eg, "Bob wears too much pink, and I can't work because he is too sexy")), I should definitely NOT tell Bob that I have this problem. Rather, I should go to Bob's superior officer, who will in turn go to their superior officer, who will then go to THEIR superior officer, who will then move up the chain of command until we contact God and/or the offending person's parents. That entity (ie. God and/or the person's parents) will then go back down through a different chain of command, until we manage to reach a DIFFERENT superior officer, who will contact the person with whom I have a problem. The officer will then inform the offending person of the problem in a round-about, non-specific manner (eg, "Bob, your shirt is very nice, but it is a bit too pink. *Some people* are having a problem with the amount of sexiness that you are bringing to the workplace.... can you please wear somewhat less pink?) This, of course, avoids any direct co-worker to co-worker complaints, and helps everyone theoretically work together because no one ever has a specific problem with anyone, and everyone will tell everyone else that they love their work. Random complaints from *Some people* will just appear every now and again.

This is all well and good, but it takes fucking forever to pass the complaint along. The problem may be a month or more old before anyone says shit. The problem may also be a very simple one to resolve (eg, "please speak more slowly"), which could be solved within a few seconds of hearing said complaint.

Here is a relatively short example with a very short "wa - train", as I have decided to call the chain of people who must ALL find out about the issue before you do. My school manager is a relatively astute young lady who is quite delightful. She realizes that western people tend to appreciate slightly more direct feedback:


Mg: "Brent Sensei, how do I say in English.... "Sensei, can you not get dressed out of your suit before the end of day???"

Me: "um..... That was pretty good."

Mg: "Really?"

Me: "Yes."

Mg: "Ok... um... can you tell (the other) Sensei?"


So, as you can see, my school manager has realized that we crazy foreigners appreciate direct feedback. Admittedly, she sometimes tries to give said direct feedback, but it often comes out slightly more blunt than the spirit in which it is intended. For example, this gem which my dear new co-worker received the other day...


"Sensei... lesson was a good job. But next time... please try to...um...more...uh...make more fun."


Ouch.

Serious wa disturbance.