I Get Treated to Dinner

Since I’ve been back in Oita, I’ve gone to the old office many times, mostly to meet Chris, but I run into all the old people I used to work with. One of them, Mr. Redpine, said he wanted to treat Chris and I to dinner, and we accepted of course. After some discussion about the date, we finally settled on last Friday.　　 (You can read Chris’ version of the same events here).

Mr. Redpine’s real name is Akamatsu, but when I first arrived in Japan I could not, for the life of me, remember anyone’s name correctly, so the office began translating their names into English to help me. Redpine stuck in my memory a lot better than Akamatsu ever did.

Also present was Yukie, who had helped me get involved in the local Ajimu volleyball team, and the local Ajimu choir 4 years ago when I first arrived. And, Issei, probably my best Japanese friend, who worked in the same office with me for most of my time in Japan.

Mr. Redpine was a bit nervous about talking to Chris, and asked me if Chris could speak any Japanese. Chris has been here about a month now, and is picking up a bit of Japanese, so I was reluctant to say he couldn’t speak at all, but, for all practical purposes, he wouldn’t be able to converse with Redpine.

While I was thinking about how to phrase this, Redpine offered, “He’s like you were when you first arrived?”

“Yes, exactly.”

This caused some reminiscing on the part of Redpine. “I remember when you first came to Japan. You couldn’t speak any Japanese, so you couldn’t talk to hardly anyone in the office. I was really worried that you were getting lonely and homesick, but I couldn’t speak any English, so I didn’t know what to do. So I started inviting you out to play catch with us during lunch break. Do you remember that?” I answered affirmative. “But you were so terrible at catching the ball. You couldn’t do it at all. I thought all Americans were supposed to be good at baseball, so I was really surprised when you couldn’t even catch the ball.”

Redpine was now entertaining everyone in the office with this story. I did my best to laugh along with it, although I felt a bit uncomfortable at being the object of the joke. “So then I really didn’t know what to do after that,” Redpine continued. “I was so worried about you being homesick, but I felt like there was nothing I could do for you.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “The first year I was so excited to be in Japan, I never got homesick. It wasn’t until the second year that homesickness began to set in.”

On the way to the restaurant, Issei commented to me how strange my Japanese was becoming. “I think you’ve actually gotten worse since the last time I saw you,” he said.

“That’s possible,” I replied. “I spend a lot of time with Shoko, so I get a lot of speaking practice, but I’ve stopped studying almost completely. Even though I live in Japan, if I don’t keep up my studies it’s amazing how fast I forget Japanese grammar. So I think my speaking confidence is improving, but my grammar might be getting worse.”

Issei agreed with this. “It’s like you’ve invented a grammar system all your own,” he said. “It’s very funny to listen to you talk.”

We arrived at the restaurant, and the 5 of us started our meal. It was Japanese food. Despite the 4 years I’ve been here, I still haven’t developed a strong liking for Japanese food, but this was better than usual. In fact, given how expensive it is to eat out in Japan, and given the many courses the waitress brought out, Redpine must have paid a lot of money for us that night.

The conversation was fairly pleasant, although there are a couple of things about Japanese culture that I never got used to. One is the custom of using a lot of compliments. I just find it embarrassing. For instance at one point during the conversation, Redpine started talking about what a great guy I was. I knew it would have been rude to accept the compliment, so immediately denied it. He insisted on it. “When you work with someone in an office, you get to know their character,” he said. “And after working with you, I am certain you are a great person. You were always really nice, and you showed real dedication to your work. You would even come into the office on Saturday sometimes.”

At this point Issei jumped in. “Didn’t you come into the office on Saturdays just to use our computers to check your e-mail?”

I admitted this was true, but Redpine didn’t seem to think it mattered. “The important thing was you came in. I was all-alone working in the office one Saturday, and you came in to use the computers, and I was so amazed at how dedicated you were to your work.”

The other thing I find embarrassing is the Japanese custom of downgrading oneself or one’s family members. During a pause in the conversation, I asked Redpine about his daughter, who I had met when she was doing her student teaching. “Did she ever go on to become a teacher?” I asked.

“No, she didn’t make it. She failed her teaching test, and now she just works at a cash register doing check out. She’s a real stupid daughter.”

“Really? I thought she was pretty smart. She seemed like she was doing a good job student teaching.”

“Well, if she’s so smart, then why didn’t she become a teacher?”

I was at a loss to answer this, and just mumbled that she had seemed smart to me. In truth, I had met her just briefly 4 years ago, and barely remember her, but I knew that Japanese rules of politeness meant I was supposed to argue with Redpine on this point.

These are the kinds of things that a Japanese person navigates intuitively, but a Westerner is at a loss to know what the line is between disagreeing to forcibly, and not disagreeing strongly enough, thus giving the impression of tacit agreement.

Link of the Day
I've been linking a lot to Chris' blog, but I should mention there is another new JET in Ajimu with his own blog, adding to the Ajimu blog tradition of me, Mike, Josh, Chris, and now Justin.