Tempura: Food for Thought

A couple weekends ago I went to Hattori Sensei's house for lunch. She is the school librarian, tea ceremony club manager, AND speech contest manager, so we work together in many capacities. Luckily for me, she enjoys teaching people about Japanese culture, so she invited me to her home for a relaxed cooking lesson...and a subsequent feast of miso soup, shrimp and veggie tempura, Japanese pickles, some little raw silvery fishes (only thing I didn't like), green tea, and ice cream. I was quite overwhelmed by the generosity of it all.

Hattori Sensei kindly picked me up at the train station and took me to her beautiful, spotless home. It was probably the cleanest house I've ever visited. When I first arrived, I chatted with her husband, who also speaks very good English (again, lucky for me!). He seemed thrilled to discover my last name, because Salisbury was a British prime minister who helped Japan and Russia sign a peace treaty in the early 1900s. So I had an unfair advantage, but I felt instantly liked and comfortable in this couple's home.

Hattori Sensei gave the cooking lessons while her husband made conversation. He is quite the history buff, and also has a thing for country music. At the dinner table he broke out into songs by Johnny Cash and LeAnn Rhimes (spelling?) which delighted me but didn't seem to please his wife too much. Johnny Cash reminded me of friends from school, and even though an older Japanese man was singing, an invisible connection formed between my close friends in America and this new "friend" in Japan. It made me happy. I want to make Mr. Hattori a James Taylor CD since I'm from NC.

When he stopped singing, to his wife's visible relief, the three of us discussed more serious topics: differences in Japanese and American culture, how the Japanese language is changing, tea ceremony, and how all of these things are affected by the media and advertising. It was a very intellectual conversation, but the Hattoris were so warm and genuinely interested in my thoughts that I felt comfortable voicing my opinions. They asked me what I studied in college, and when I told them "International Studies and Globalization," I decided to open a can of worms that had been squirming for quite some time. I'll try to summarize without going into too much detail.

You'd think that when you study something, you'd understand it. And when you understand something, you can grow to like it. But after 4 years of studying globalization, I still don't understand it completely, and I am not convinced it's a good or positive thing (however much a moral judgment can be made -- and I think one can). Hattori Sensei was troubled by Japan's changing advertising, because Katakana English is often used when there is "already a perfectly good Japanese expression." She saw the loss of Kanji as a sad erosion of her culture, which she is working hard to maintain. Her husband, on the other hand, stated simply that all languages change, and that it was no big deal. My feelings rest somewhere between these two ideas. And when they asked me why I came to Japan, I tried telling them something I hadn't discussed with anyone before.

I came to Japan to learn about Japanese culture, whatever "traditional" culture is, before it becomes more "eroded" by Western ideals and globalization. "Eroded" definitely has a negative connotation, but just hear me out. In truth, I think many aspects of globalization are bad. But I can't logically explain why that is -- just a gut feeling that I don't like. (The cheap explanation is that if the whole world thinks alike, it will become boring for me.) Yet, my presence in Japan contributes to the very changes of globalization that seem bad. So that would make me a hypocrite, and selfish, for coming to Japan in the first place. But I chose to come anyway, bringing all my Western ideas with me to learn about Japanese culture. In the meantime, I think Japan is changing and doesn't quite know where it's going, because different generations don't agree on what it means to be Japanese.

So I feel confused about being in Japan, how it's affecting me, but more importantly, how it's affecting those around me. I'm not saying that as an individual I have the power to change everyone around me. But little by little, more things from the outside become acceptable. Do I contribute to the Katakana English at the 7/11? I'm teaching English, for crying out loud! But is that for Japan's benefit, or America's? What about how I (voluntarily) make coffee for the teachers every day, instead of tea? Sure, it's just a drink, but that snowballs into purchases, and advertising, and what appeals to whom, and what language is used to advertise what, and who ends up reading and buying everything...and that leads to other products people want to buy, and more advertising...do you get the picture?

In short, I'm not sure if I'm doing the right thing or not. And I told them this. And what made me feel so...happy...was that they seemed to understand. The Hattoris got very quiet but there was such a feeling of acceptance in the room. I knew I had shared my thoughts with the right people, and I was grateful to have such an appropriate outlet. For better or for worse, I made a connection, and I was just happy that they understood, instead of telling me, "Lauren, you think too much."