Rated G for the Masses

Here is a preview (two months early!) of the article I just wrote for the Hiroshima International Center's quarterly newsletter. That's right! I'm leakin' ME! Because the publication is made using our tax yennies, it has to be tame, but I still mean everything I wrote, even if it comes off as sappy. Enjoy!

I LOVE EXCHANGE        国際交流最高！－ 1月末行われた雪生活体験の楽しい一日について

By Greg Beck

Working at the Hiroshima International Center for the three years has truly been a blessing. As the resident English translator it can be hard. With a lot of last minute translation requests, long hours, and a constantly changing schedule it is impossible to commit to anything in my “free time”, because my free time is different every week! But, would I trade my experience for a “normal” Monday – Friday 9am to 5pm job? NO!

This photo won't be in the article, but apparently some Chinese people are equally clueless about what they wear!

Old dudes chillin' with hot sake

Most recently, I had the honor of working at the Life in the Snow Experience event for my third consecutive year. Even though I always have a wonderful time working at every exchange event, this was quite possibly the best event I have ever experienced! Here is what happened:

After driving two hours into the snowy north of Mizokuchi, located in Kita-hiroshima Town, we arrived at the Miwa-higashi Culture Center with participants from all over the world chatting excitedly in at least eight different languages. Outside more than one meter of beautiful, pure snow, had fallen on a hill with big, black inter-tubes, waiting to be used as sleds. After the opening ceremony inside, we split into two groups. A quarter of the participants went to the kitchen to make dishes from their home countries to share at lunch. Everyone else went outside to play in the snow. Also outside, some of the senior citizens had set up around the same rusty wood stove they do every year, heating sake in freshly cut, hollowed-out bamboo, and pouring the hot sake for anyone nearby into more fresh-cut, bamboo cups. This year however, they had outdone themselves, passing out fresh-stewed wild boar ribs for everyone to snack on in the hours before lunch.

That's one of my bosses with sake and wild boar ribs

Our participants from 15 countries went wild playing in the snow, and sliding down the hill. This year an quiet old gentleman had made his own sled out of skis, and everyone had a turn on it. “Can two people sit on it?” asked two girls, “Yes, two people is best”, he said sitting down and beckoning the closest one to ride with him, completely oblivious to the thought they may have wanted to go together!

Seriously...HILARIOUS!

Time passed quickly and at noon we all went inside for lunch and some amazing performances. The spread of Japanese food was amazing, with Indian curry, Chinese shrimp in chili sauce, Vietnamese fried spring rolls, and New Zealand no-bake cheesecake mix in among the dishes. 

As you can see, the locals did NOT ask for my help translating these (Kabocha = Pumpkin)

While we all ate, I took several breaks to translate in between performances. After watching a traditional, Japanese, artistic dance, a Chinese participant played the Hulusi (a traditional flute), two, young, Korean ladies sang and danced, everyone did a Japanese folk dance, followed by a Scottish country dance, and for a finale, the local Kagura group performed an incredible play about a demon spider! 

Left to Right - Japan, Korea, China

I fucking LOVE Kagura! Also, possibly the best-timed photo I've ever taken!

All day I kept pausing and thinking to myself, “I am so lucky”, and “This is my job? Amazing!” Everyone did a wonderful job of teaching each other about their cultures. Not just foreigner-to-Japanese, but every one learned something about the different nations represented that day. I know people sometimes fear the unfamiliar, but this job has taught me that nothing is more fun than sharing and learning about different cultures.

Later Skaters!

Greg the Scrivner

Here are most, not all, but most, of the essays I have written while in Japan so far. I have ideas for many more, but in the meantime this will have to hold you over till I get out some fresh word document paper :P
CLICK HERE for good (I HOPE) reads

Life as a Gaijin

Here is an article I just wrote for the Hiroshima International Center's newsletter. In the end, I think I will write a new article that has more to do with Hiroshima, on a less sensitive subject. But I would like to get my opinion out there...


Life as a Gaijin
by Greg Beck

I am a gaijin. I accept it. I am not trying to create any debate or start a social revolution in Japan, but here is a brief description of my life in Japan, and my thoughts on the concept of the word, “gaijin”.

First and foremost, are you aware there is a huge debate over the word gaijin? There are two main sides to this argument. Many people feel offended by the word. They believe there is no linguistic relation to the word “gaikokujin”, meaning “a person from a foreign country”. They argue that because the origin of the word means “outsider”, that calling a person gaijin is divisive, condescending, and even hostile! With this group, using the word “gaijin” can cause problems quickly for both parties. The other side of the debate centers on the Japanese shortening of words. Gaijin, to them, is short for gaikokujin. By this definition, if you are from a foreign country, there is nothing wrong with being a gaijin.

I have always tried to stay above the fray. I believe both parties can be right. Your intent matters more than the words you use. However, some people interpret what they hear differently, so someone can still take offense regardless of the speaker’s intentions. But I believe how a word “should” be used and how people actually use it often differ. A third group deserves mentioning; there are people from foreign countries who have become Japanese citizens. These people spent incredible amounts of time and effort to become Japanese citizens and feel both “gaijin” and “gaikokujin” no longer apply to them. But in Japan’s traditionally homogenous society someone who does not look Japanese is automatically assumed to be a gaijin.

I do not fit into any of these groups. Everyone has the right to say and think what they want. When I first came here in 2004 to study at Konan University, I was oblivious to this issue. As my Japanese improved, I started hearing the word gaijin more and more. I learned it meant “foreigner” and to this day sometimes use the word in that context myself. Since those first months here some of my friends complained of hearing “Gaijin” immediately followed by utterance “Abunai” (dangerous). Also, on many occasions, a few of my foreign friends and I will go to a restaurant and a Japanese couple will enter and comment on there being “many gaijin” there, as if there is some deeper meaning to their observation. In addition to this I noticed people on trains and buses hesitate or avoid sitting next to me. This isn’t always the case, of course, but it continues to happen, even after living here for years. On a rational level, I don’t care if someone does not want to sit next to me. There are many reasons why they might decide not to. Still though, when I notice it, I can’t help imagining a voice saying, “Gaijin. Abunai.” and feeling a little insulted.

Being asked by total strangers where I’m from and how long I’ve been in Japan is another part of being a gaijin. I understand they are expressing their curiosity and an interest in me, which is nice. Also, because my physical appearance is different, I’m sure I stand out, but sometimes I do not want to act as ambassador of my home country, I just want to be another member of the community I live in. Also, these questions sound cold. When they come without a greeting like “Hello, how are you?” or even, “Nice weather we’re having”, it seems like I am being interrogated.

Let’s assume gaijin means “foreigner”, nothing good or bad, just a basic adjective. Calling me “gaijin” would be, technically, correct. But having grown up in America, with white, black, Asian, and Hispanic friends – all “American” with unique ancestry, I cannot remember one time in my life I’ve ever referred to another person in English as “foreign”. To me, even saying someone is American, or Japanese, does not say anything about whether they are short, tall, friendly, mean, greedy, or generous. So to describe a person as “foreign” seems so vague it is pointless.

As I learned more Japanese and traveled the world, I noticed “gaijin” really does not mean “foreign”. “Foreign” is a relative term. For example, if a Japanese person went to Guam, they would become the “foreign” person. But that same Japanese person could still refer to everyone in Guam as “gaijin”. So gaijin’s meaning is probably better expressed as “not Japanese”, and I do not appreciate being referred to by what I am “not”. I know I am not Japanese, and that suits me just fine. My nationality seems as relevant and important as the color of my shirt. A tourist here for the weekend, or someone fluent in Japanese, and living in Hiroshima for 30 years, being reduced to the same, simple term “gaijin” seems dismissive. It also fails to describe what they are.

I am often asked if I would like to live in Japan for ever. I love Japan, and I feel lucky for day I spend here. But if I lived here until I was old and gray, people would still probably call me “gaijin” and ask what country I am from. I don’t know if this problem exists in other countries. I don’t know if Japan will change, or if it does, how quickly. But it would not be easy to call this “my home” when people from the same town call me “gaijin”.