Travel book by Will Ferguson, about his experiences hitchhiking the length of Japan. He's a Canadian who worked in Japan for five years. I was reminded of this passage, where he's riding with Hitoshi, an art teacher and fellow traveller who has his own idea of
otherness:
"I was alone in India," he said, as though that answered some unasked question. "I was alone, solo travel. It was before Nepal. I was sweating, my shirt is like a bath. They said to me, India has three seasons: hot, hotter, hottest." He smiled.
"Is that all you remember of India, that it was hot?"
"No," he said, and there was a long pause. "India, Calcutta. So many poor people, hands like this, out for money please. 'Rupee please, you give rupee please.' One day I was in the feeling to joke. And this little girl, she is a beggar, maybe Untouchable. She asked me many times, rupee please, rupee please. I saw her every day, in front of my hotel. So I wanted to make a joke, you understand? Just a joke. So I said to her, 'Why I give you money? I am poor too. Why'-" and his voice cracked. He was staring hard at the road ahead. "-I said, 'Why I give you money? You should give me money, I am poor,' I said to her."
He filled his chest and let it out slowly, a long, extended sigh. I waited, but he didn't say anything.
"So what happened?" I asked. "What did she do?"
"She gave me some money."
...
Much is made of Japan's insularity. Too much. Commentators tend to treat the country as though it were disconnected from the rest of the world. But no nation looks as longingly or with such mixed emotions to the outside world as does Japan. Japan was never a crossroads of civilisations, it was always on the periphery, and the elements of other cultures, particularly Western cultures, have been imported painstakingly and at great cost. Today, as the world tilts toward the Pacific, Japan finds itself in the one position she has never prepared herself for: a crossroads of kingdoms, the meeting point of great cultural and economic currents. Worlds have collided and Japan is suddenly a pivotal point. It has been a trauma as much as a triumph.
The Japanese can never forget the world that exists out there, like a fog bank, beyond its islands' edge. It is their obsession, their neurosis, their fantasy. If Westerners have an ambivalent attitude toward Japan, then the reverse is doubly true. To the Japanese, we are legion: we are conquerors, barbarians, superiors, inferiors, dreams projected, lives unlived, icons, buffoons, the purveyors of greater ideas and nobler arts, taller, louder, faster, less refined, more sophisticated. We are all this and more, compressed into a ball the size of a fist that sits in the stomach of the Japanese.
Arrogance is always an overreaction. So is self-loathing. The Japanese have been overreacting to the West since the day the American commodore Matthew Perry sailed his Black Ships into Tokyo Bay in 1854 and forced Japan to open up its ports for trade. Until then, Japan had been cloaked in a world of shoguns and clan lords, the longest totalitarian rule in human history. Japan's much-vaunted insularity ended with Perry's crusade. It was date rape and it set the tone, back and forth, between Japan and the West that has continued right through to the present. If the West loves and hates Japan, Japan LOVES and HATES the West. Japan can do everything but forget us, we who exist out there.
The Japanese attitude to the rest of Asia is even more problematic. On the surface, they treat the rest of the continent like embarrassing country bumpkins, related only distantly to themselves. They are proud to be Japanese; they are ashamed to be Asian. This conflict runs right down the center of their soul. India, Malaysia, Thailand, China, Korea: they lie like a stone beside the heart.
Travelers and commentators rarely place Japan in an international context because it is in their interest to make Japan seem more exotic and other-worldly than it is. We all want to be mystic explorers, but Japan is not other-worldly. Neither is it near at hand. It lies somewhere in between. Chiemi was right; Japan is caught in a permanent midstep, one foot in Asia, one in the West.