My time in Osaka, Japan was brief, but full of stories. Halloween and authentic Sushi. Octopus Dumplings, Pasta in squid’s ink sauce and far less exotic, but no less wonderful fair. And, as is usually the case when traveling, it was the people that stand out more than anything. Whether they were bathed in the glow of Neon in the electronics district, or lit by tree-filtered sunlight in a temple in Kyoto, it is them I will remember most; the people.
Right Off the Plane
I was a Gaijin; a foreigner. The moment I stepped onto the soil of Nippon, I was different. I was a minority. I choose to see it as being special; as standing out. I accepted all of the baggage that being a foreigner entailed. I accepted it all as best I could, including the burden of not knowing the language. Oddly enough, I was there to teach language. I was there to teach English conversational skills to young high school and college students who signed up for classes to improve their skills.
And Teach I Did
The odd mix of me and Japan often came down to a simple equation. Put a shy person in a room full of outgoing people and they will be overwhelmed. Put a somewhat shy person (me) in a “roomful” of very shy people and they become and extrovert. At least that is how it was with me. I taught and spoke with authority to very polite young students who seemed to appreciate my view of the world, my ideas and how I brought more to each lesson than simply how to say certain words. I brought conversation.
Not that I am the only teacher who did that, by a long shot, but I love to talk, and I showed it in my work. The students seemed to like me. I made a few cultural mistakes – pointing at people rather than a more gentle lifting of an open palm in a person’s direction for example – but overall people seemed to like me, and I liked them.
The Gaijin “Character”
The various personalities of my fellow teachers, mostly American, and a close high school friend who had come there before me and recommended me for the job – these things blended together with the personalities of the various students to create a unique working atmosphere. Since there was already a teacher named “Michael” (my real first name), I became “Mickey”. It seemed to suit me because the students thought I was something of an eccentric character. And so I am.
I would talk about anything that I was thinking about that day. Since conversation could be about nearly anything, I was talk about movies, mythology, popular culture, cultural differences – small and large – and usually my students simply enjoyed discussing these things.
Friends
I often considered students my friends. Certainly the people I worked with were friends. And I was roommates with my high school friend who knew me far better than anyone else in that country. The Japanese receptionists (all attractive young women) who greeted me each morning with cheerful shouts of “Ohio!” (short for “Ohio Guzimas” or “Good Morning”) did little to cheer my “I’m-not-a-morning-person” personality, but there were helpful and very kind. When I told one of them that I hadn’t done any real sight seeing because I didn’t know many people, she invited me to go with her and some friends to a temple in Kyoto for the day. We had a great time together, and she even gifted me and the others in the group with a small album of photos she had taken.
My own friend from high school was a fine roommate. He dealt with a lot of things so I didn’t have to worry. He spoke some Japanese and was able to hail a cab to get us home one night when we were out so late that we missed the last train home to the suburb of “Owada” where we lived. He sat across from me when I took my first taste of authentic sushi – a huge, pink slab of cold fish meat. I wasn’t sure I would like it, but wasn’t going to miss this opportunity. Unfortunately it tasted exactly like it looked – it was a cold, chewy, pink slab of uncooked fish meat. Still, I had a great time that night, and many other nights.
The Days and The Nights
The days were filled with taking trains to and from work… me making my usual joke each day as my roommate and I walked by a movie theater that was on the way to work “Ditch work, see movie!” I would insist. It was funnier if I said it several times as if I was actually trying to lure him into skipping work.
The nights were filled with workouts at a nearby hotel gym we’d found, or having drinks with the students in a lounge built for parties. It was so people could interact in new ways. My desk was literally a few steps from a large, stocked bar and a lounge area filled with restaurant-style round tables and a small dance floor. Looking back on it now, it seems oddly heavenly. In fact the whole city feels that way.
Sometimes late at night I would feel restless and walk around the neighborhood where I stayed. I came to make it a game. I would pay as little attention as possible to where I was going. I would take random left and right turns and see if I could get completely lost amongst manga newsstands and vending machines that lined some of the streets. But I found the night fascinating and quiet, and somehow never had a problem finding my way back to our small apartment.
Halloween
Perhaps my favorite story of Osaka came in October of that year.
Near the end of my time in Osaka the school I worked for threw a Halloween party. My friend and I discussed it and one night went out to buy my costume – a pair of panty hose that I would wear over my head like a robber. My friend also bought a disposable camera to take pictures at the party. We laughed as we waked out of the convenience store at 3am – wondering what the proprietor must have thought of two Gaijin men buying panty hose and a camera late at night.
One of my students, an attractive young woman, came to the party and since he had become 20 (the legal drinking age) she drank for the first time and danced on the dance floor. She was even swept up by one of the other teachers and given a big kiss. Later, she did not feel well (not being use to drinking) and some of the other students went to take care of her. She was alright for a while, but then some of her friends asked if I would walk her to the trains to make certain she got there alright.
As we walked past neon and sodium lights filling the night with artificial daylight, I asked her about the kiss on the dance floor. She said that it was not her idea and that it wasn’t really something she wanted. Then she said wistfully that it had been her first kiss. I thought it was sad, and in the spirit of the wild night, I asked her if she’d have rather kissed me? She shyly said “Yes”, and so we stopped walking and kissed there in the night air. We kissed twice, if I remember correctly. It was very sweet and innocent.
When I pulled back, I smiled at her and told her that now she could remember that as her first kiss. She smiled and put her head on my shoulder as I walked her to her train home.
And All Of This….
As with most human experience, there were lessons to be learned. Things I could have done better. I’d worked at punishing 6 day a week schedule which left me almost no time to do anything else. I pushed myself to a breaking point to try and prove something to myself or maybe others. Even before I returned home I knew I’d made a mistake, but it was not to be corrected no matter what I tried. Even so, I don’t regret my time in Japan, or my experiences. I learned a great deal about myself, and about the world. I certainly have a lot more to learn, but Japan touched a special part of me that I never forgot. It changed the way I see my world, myself and my friends. It changed the way I looked at everything. When I returned home I was not the same man who’d left.
Life should be full of memories and a few regrets. We should all throw ourselves out there and find some wonderful wave to ride until the end. And at the end we should examine how we did. We should try to be objective and not too harsh, but honest. Overall I give myself a B- for handling the whole experience. In the past I’ve mourned the loss of this opportunity and focused on it’s end far too much. I think it’s time now to see the experience as a whole, and take it for all that it was.
It was one of the greatest experiences of my life.
May the neon never fade, the canned coffee never grow cold, and the women always remember their first kiss.
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