Yesterday Koji and I were on the bus, on the way home from a friend's house. Koji was very cranky after spending a napless day playing with three much older kids. As he was mourning leaving his new friends, I was trying to reassure him we would see them again soon and plying him with graham crackers while a young women with long, dyed hair looked on. Before long, she came to sit by me, and started a conversation by asking me how old he is and then sharing that she has two children who are two and six months.
Someone talked to me! One aspect of Japanese culture I have felt strongly in the past weeks of being here is the need for a connection. Talking to strangers doesn't seem to be proper, unless you need directions, and even then it seems better to get your directions, say your thanks and move on. This means that the only way to meet anyone else is to be introduced by someone you know. It's not actually a terrible system in most instances, but when you don't know anyone except the person you just traveled over an hour to visit, trips to and from are lonely.
So I was overly delighted when this woman started chatting with me! Thank you, God! Our conversation wasn't heavy, and I'll probably never see her again. Nevertheless, those few minutes of sympathizing over life with a two year old were disproportionately encouraging. Next time I need to gather my courage and just be the one to start talking....
1 comment:
In some places you have a license as a foreigner to be a little unconventional, straying slightly outside of cultural norms, as long as you compensate by being interesting, charming, entertaining, or some characteristic that is valued. Is it true there? To what extent? Is this a good time to embark on a systematic exploration, become an anthropologist and experiment with yourself as the instrument?
Post a Comment