Being White in Japan.

Setting:
Just had dinner. Lots of sushi (including a sweet one that "kitsune" are said to like...called Inarizushi?), beef, some sort of soup with tofu, and a face-cake with chocolate creme. Sisters are taking a bath, I hear my host mother talking sternly to my host father (about what, who knows), and "Call Me Maybe" is on the radio.

The first post. I should have started this 2 weeks ago, when I first came to Japan, but I put off writing anything until now. I could blame the jet lag, culture shock, and lack of time for not writing anything before. And of course, those were pretty big factors in me avoiding this blog. But I think more than anything, I didn't have anything to say. I could have written detailed accounts of all of the weird features of my new home (like the "shower toilet") or my first experience riding the subway to school (and the terrifying experience of trying to remember how to get back home by myself, without a cell phone) but I think those things I'll be able to remember, and those accounts can be found on any number of blogs written by students studying abroad in Japan. Writing all of that down is kind of a waste of time, to me anyways-I've been taking pictures along the way and can look back on them anytime to remember where I've been and what I've done. 

What I want to write about are my thoughts about this experience, because that's not something pictures can capture. I'm aware of how naive I am/I have been about the world. I have lived my whole life in the small town of South Bend, Indiana, and when it came time to enter the next phase of my life and go to college, I chose to go to Notre Dame, which is literally 5 minutes away from my house (courageous, I know). Before this past December, I had never left the country, or even ridden an airplane. I know my family was plenty scared for me (I'm a pretty ditzy person, so that plus going to a country when I've barely ever left Indiana gave them plenty of reason to worry) and so was I. I still am actually. What I'm really scared about, though, is that I will come back the same person I was when I left. I think I'm a pretty decent human being...but I've been incredibly sheltered from other ways of viewing the world. For example, in my first 2 weeks of being here, I've managed to do some stupid things, such as:

1. Not bother to research how Japanese people took baths. I took baths the Western way for the first week and a half, until my host mother asked me how I was taking them. Turns out, you're supposed to wash yourself outside of the bathtub and only get in to soak and think-the small bath water is used for everyone, so you don't want to spoil it. I've never felt so stupid.
2. Leave things plugged in. In Japan, energy conservation is a big deal since everything's expensive. I took that for granted in the US.

So far, actually, this experience has just been a lot of me feeling stupid. I didn't realize until I came here how pathetic my Japanese language skill is. I've been learning new words every day, but putting them into practice has been difficult. I came here not to just experience the culture, but to learn the language. I had a sad realization today at the store though. My friends and I went to shop in Sakae, and I found this shoe store. I was looking at a boot when a friendly clerk came, tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Last one! Better buy it". I immediately replied with "本当？" before I realized that he had said something in English to me.

English. People here know a bit of English, but not enough to talk in it often. This clerk had never heard me speak in Japanese. For all he knew, I could have been fluent. But he still approached me and spoke in English. I know this was kind of him, but a little disheartening. Japan is different from the US in many, many ways, but the biggest way it's different is that everyone is ethnically Japanese. I get stares on the subway because I'm bigger, whiter, and blonder than everyone else on it-because of this, they automatically know I'm a foreigner. In the US, you have no idea someone's a foreigner until they speak, and even then, they might be so good at English that you cannot tell. I've been thinking about this since the store but I realized that even if I learn the language fluently and dress exactly like a Japanese woman should, I will never fit in. And I think this is the saddest part of my trip.

But I'm still very grateful and happy to be here! This has actually made me more motivated than ever to learn Japanese. I do NOT want to just be a tourist here. I may never fit in, but I will try my hardest to carry part of this culture with me home. I want to come back to the US and not just tell stories about the cool places I went, or the weird features of a Japanese home. I want to go back changed by Japan, even if I can not change Japan or even be a part of Japan. I've loved this country since I was a small child, and know I will never have an experience like this again. So...I will try my hardest. :) がんばりましょう！

PS.

As if on cue, as I wrote that last sentence, my little sister Ayaka came in and gave me a hug good night. Maybe I'm being too pessimistic about the not fitting in thing...appearances are superficial, and Japanese people are very welcoming of me in general. I'm not sure how well learning the language will help me to overcome this feeling of separation...We'll see!

PPS.
I'm not sure if anyone is reading this...it's kind of just a place to muse about things, and not actually write about my happenings in Japan. I'm not telling anyone about it, because I don't know if anyone else will find it interesting. But if you accidentally stumbled upon this, mysterious person, hello there!