May 19th

There are certain days where random things seem to accumulate and May 19th is one of them.  Various people have various happenings on this day, various things of various significance.  A friend's audition, another friend's significant other comes to Japan, a birthday party in Grantchester meadows, some baseball tickets come on sale for the Ham Fighters vs the Hawks at Tokyo Dome.  All this scheduled to take place on May 19th, before any talk of a 6am Tae Kwon Do Skype, or a surprise two-hour lesson from Kaneko-san.  May 19th.  It's quite a day.

Also on May 19th I remembered a casual question asked to me while I was in California:  when you're in Japan, what do you miss most about America?  The answer I gave was peanut butter.  The answer I should have given was garbage cans.  But the truth is that I don't really miss either of these, and I don't know.  But I like to think about it now and again.  This morning I couldn't think of anything (other than people, memories, personal connections) that I miss.  There is nothing about America that I need in Japan, nothing that seems to be missing.

However, on May 19th, I also thought of an answer of something that I miss, not because I'm in need of it, but because it simply isn't here, or at least not in my experience:  light conversation at the check-out.  Something like the following:  "Oh I love this color!"  "Really?  It's my daughter's favorite color!  I'm giving this to her for her graduation."  "Really?  What is she's graduating from?"  "Oh, she just finished her bachelors in civil engineering.  We're all very excited.  We've got the whole family in town from Alaska and New York and we're going to have a barbeque tonight."  And so on...  Just doesn't seem to happen here.  Or maybe it does.  But in my gaikokujin world, the cashiers are always very well trained with a head bow, a careful sorting of the goods being purchased, placement of the money on the register with a verbal confirmation of the amount, followed by a careful and explicit counting of the change returned and another head bow of thanks.  In Madison, I think it was as much the policy at the local credit union to ask clients about their plans for the the day as it is not to do such a thing here.

And with this comes another distinction perhaps, in the cultural response to the inevitable difficulties of life.  That in America there is a mutual leavening, an extroverted concern to take care of one another, to make sure that even strangers are feeling ok, even happy.  This in contrast to Japan's respect for privacy, a feeling that each knows what is best and has the ability to find the strength within to take care of themselves, an internal patience for the challenges that one experiences.

Do I miss it?   I notice that it isn't there and that it changes the way life feels.  And I deeply respect the value of living in both ways.  How many other ways are there to live?