Successful cultural assimilation is not about how well accepted you are by the members of another ethnicity. Rather, it is how diligently you strive to understand and accept the cultural, moral and behavioral differences of another nation or group of people. In Japan, stark cultural differences can often become a source of alienation or personal conflagration for foreigners. A high regard for respect and a maintained social order have remained prominent here—from bowing to show reverence and respect (to the bus driver, your peers and elders, and often even to a passer-by), waiting your turn in line no matter how hot and humid it is outside, or giving up your seat on the bus or train to an elderly passenger—all are commonplace in daily life in Japan. Maintaining wa, a sense of social peace and harmony, has been indelible to Japanese ideology and behavior for centuries. Despite an influx of Western ideas and influences pouring into Japan throughout the 19th and 20th centuries (stemming from Commodore Perry’s “opening of Japan” and the Meiji revolution) and the fact that the casual, irreverent behavior of many Japanese youth today stands in complete contrast to the dignified, honorable social complexion of past generations of Japanese—despite these sweeping changes, wa and a sense of harmony and balance remain unequivocally pertinent to Japanese society today.
A major factor in the resistance against cultural distillation and maintenance of cultural values in Japan is its geography. A small island nation located in the very East of Asia, homogeneity and standardized ideologies flourished for thousands of years. In recent history, Ieyasu Tokugawa’s sakoku, or closed country, policy kept Japan isolated for over 250 years throughout the 17-19th centuries.
As mentioned, Japan has become an openly international nation in the post-war years and any visitor to any major Japanese city would surely find the mix of sights, sounds, tastes and experiences invariably broad and cross-cultural. Yet due to its history underscored with xenophobic sentiments, some Japanese people today may still feel uncomfortable in the presence of gaijin (lit. “outside person”). Before coming to Japan, I often heard complaints from friends who came in contact with such individuals: upon asking for directions in clearly intelligible Japanese, in lieu of a reply the only response granted was a large X made by crossing the forearms, signifying dame! (No way; no use!) So abruptly ends the confrontation. Hostility soared sky-high in my friends’ voices: “Why the fuck couldn’t they just answer me? Are they racist or something?”
I too have had similar experiences since arriving in Japan. Upon asking a woman where the nearest bus stop could be found, she gave me the ol’ dame! (in this case, most likely “I don’t understand you”) and walked off. Sure it irked my ire. I had somewhere to be and all I really wanted was a short answer to a simple question. For that woman, speaking to a foreigner was either out of the question or she was hesitant to speak to strangers in general; it is not my place to come to a rash, hostile conclusion. Most likely she was not used to speaking with foreigners and felt that she didn’t have to answer at all. I could easily recall that moment with rage, yet I choose to see it as an example of Japan’s uniqueness and volatility as a nation and group of people. It is ultimately due to Japan’s historical circumstances and geographical location that this woman chose not to speak to me—very possibly, born as another person of another race that single soul would not have let a mere shred xenophobic notion unravel our brief confrontation and equally entangle my mission to find the nearest bus stop.
To view others—and more importantly one’s self—as individuals with their own set of moral values, personal characteristics, and spiritual consciousness is an entirely Western mode of thinking, and as one human being striving for a humanistic, intellectual existence empowered by self-affirmation and individualistic expression, I cherish the blatant, verbose and often times soul-surrendering expressivity such a personal evaluation allows one to inhabit. Yet in Japan and the East, wa and the importance of group mentality have played a much more important role in thought and ethical structure. In accordance, in my confrontation with the woman and the quest to find a bus stop in Chiba, Japan, the woman’s blunt refusal to even recognize that I was comprehensibly speaking Japanese and help me along my way is most fastidiously examinable through a Japanese mode of thought—placing importance on harmony and peace—which is namely that manifested through wa. Therefore, utilizing a simple humanistic and even Christian value—to place one’s self in someone else’s shoes—it can be seen that the woman was not adamantly choosing to reject me as a person and therefore embrace xenophobia, but rather her existence as a middle-age Japanese and certain personal and national-identity factors caused this apprehensive response within her.
Through a reevaluation of the perplexities that surround the understanding of another culture and the morally and spiritually challenging obstacles that crowd the path toward cultural assimilation, it has become clear in my consciousness that the more one struggles, the more adeptly the spirit grows and becomes accustomed to mentally extenuating circumstances. Learning to accept and understand another culture (and, gradually, becoming accustomed to being accepted in that different world) is the most precious experience an individual can behold. Yet, the spiritual and mental crossroads that must be traversed—often in a second language—is a perilous journey. Literary faculty and a boldly individualized expressiveness aid any on this path, yet a true humanistic desire to respect and love other humans—even in the face of disregard or discrimination—is irreplaceable throughout the entire journey of life.
May 01, 2005
Turn the other cheek or I'll make you meek . . .
As a child, upon misbehaving I was often informed flatly, “You’re going to be in a world of pain.” More often than not, such was the case: belt lashes across my backside or verbal degradation, like spikes hammered into the soft, fleshy crevices of my young mind, constituted nothing short of an entire universe of pain and remorse. I was constantly reminded of my own inferiority as a member of a family, and the consequent invalidity as a part of the whole of society; yet over the years, whenever I did something that was deemed wrong, the verbal or physical abuse that came as a retort was like second nature to me. It was only natural that when my actions caused a disruption in the moral consideration of another (“Do not hit your brother, that is wrong!) I should be punished according to my actions (“Smack!”). Accustomed to such a moral juxtaposition, it was inevitable that the ideological Christian lesson, “An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth” would become incomprehensible to me. According to the bible, an individual who becomes the focus of pain or suffering in any form (i.e. having one’s eye gouged out) is obligated to put himself or herself into a respectively similar amount of physical torment (gouging out your other good eye does more than suffice). In my life, the bearer of my ill-behavior and unruly disobedience—unpleasantries I think typical of any child—was nearly always one of my parents. Even if I performed an act of physical violence towards one of my siblings, the objective bearer of my wickedness, they were the ones to have their “eye gouged out” by my insubordination. In accordance with Christianity, the religion my parents were instructed to believe in and therefore chose for their children, “turning the other cheek,”—in this example perhaps turning away from their children’s misbehavior and allowing such sinful nature to take it’s course—was hardly ever the conclusion that was reached. Engulfed in their own rage, turning away from their own children’s misbehavior, allowing such sinful actions to go on would be personally unacceptable. Blinded by a sense of righteous indignation, as humans they felt the desire and need for vengeance. Physical or verbal punishment directed at their children was inevitably the quickest, most effective form. A smarting lash across the rear or the roar of reproach—either served equally efficient in silencing any disobedience. This moral concept found in Christianity sticks in my mind to this day with impassive furor and unmatched relativity to the personal moral and spiritual schism gaping wide in my consciousness today. In spite of my Christian upbringing, drowned in a world of physical and verbal violence I was as apt to embrace such an idyllic Christian concept as a mentally damaged newborn would be to grasp the overbearing love and concern and compassion flooding his or her parent’s minds.
April 25, 2005
Rouse Up O Young Men of the New Age!
There is a common phrase, “Life is nothing but a series of moments.” Modern philosophers—the mass-marketing, coffee-table-book-selling sort—have most likely popularized such a phrase upon a whim, faltering to find any substance or gravity in such a meandering statement. In comparison, adolescents from my generation, so often placated as “Generation X,” (namely anyone born after 1980) often find the urge to express a similar idea. Phrases like “Just takin’ shit day by day, you know,” or “Ain’t nothing changed every day,” are as common to my generation as wartime propagandized slogans have been to those of the past. In respect, I believe that the phrase “Life is nothing but a series of moments,” is largely recognized and accepted by many Americans today. Just thinking about it pragmatically makes it seem so simple—one minute we’re at school, studying; a moment taking notes, a second to sharpen a pencil, the next we’re surrounded by loved ones; laughing, talking, just passing time or “shooting the breeze.” When I first heard this phrase in high school, someone was remarking on how poignant it was, and I indeed felt inscribed with an all-together empty sense of philosophical meaning and self-awareness:
“It’s true, life is nothing but a series of moments. If I have something terrible in my life I can easily file it away as just a single moment and live for the next!”
I was elated. To think, that my parent's recent divorce or my father’s loss of job—those things are restricted to the single moment in which they occurred in my world. I felt a connection with Buddhism, which I had learned about entirely from James Clavell’s Shogun. A well written novel concerning feudal Japan’s emergence into the modern period and the struggle of the Westerner in Japan during those times, but by no means a basis for an understanding of Buddhism, a religion at the core of Asian spiritual consciousness. The brief understanding of Buddhism I had at that time has flourished, if only minutely, throughout my study of Asia and time in Japan. Yet then, it was the utter nothingness, the lack of significance attached to the single moment and the corresponding ability of human beings to bear any series of events or catastrophes that pulled so fiercely at my consciousness. Raised as a Christian in middle America, I had previously felt a strong sense of personal responsibility and guilt surrounding my father’s loss of job and the resulting divorce of my parents. To wish it all away, to succumb to that vestige of eternal nothingness—this became a source of healing for my harrowed soul.
Then I began to understand what this common phrase really represented to my generation. It was not any means of personal reconciliation. It was a simple excuse, a way to forget something stupid that you did the day before.
“Whoa, I don’t even remember a thing that happened last night!”
“Yeah? Shit happens eh?”
Such dialogue would seem completely ludicrous to past generations of Americans. Yet for us of this generation, it is all-too natural to refer to incidents in this manner. Upon being confronted with responsibility—either given a slight chance to affirm one’s own downfalls or foolish mistakes, or shed light on a personal reason for striving onward day by day—any definite thought or even minute sense of responsibility is readily replaced with any of set phrases stated: “Shit Happens,” “Same old shit everyday,” or “You know me.” It is disheartening to know that numberless adolescents around America are adulterating an idea—to sickening proportions, at that—that has been popularized and accepted as Philosophy in the mind of the average American.
* * *
Nought loves another as itself
Nor venerates another so.
Nor is it possible to Thought
A greater than itself to know.
And father, how can I love you,
Or any of my brothers more?
I love you like a little bird
That picks up crumbs around the door.
-William Blake, Songs of Innocence
I came upon this quote from Blake while reading Kenzaburo Oe’s Rouse up O Young Men of the New Age! It was my love of Oe’s work that brought me to this novel, and through a deliberate reading of the first chapter in Japanese, and then English, I have developed a fine perception of both Oe’s relationship with his son, Hikari, in intermediate years, as well as a redefined love for the slow read. Reading in the world of modern literature is all about volume—how many pulp-fiction paperbacks, news magazines, or polemic piles of pro-American anti-Islam tripe you can swallow, digest (and most often defecate) within a workweek. I have always fancied myself a slow reader, yet perhaps the most accurate term is a deliberate reader. Of course, preference and necessity may vary from person to person. Many in academic vocations can probably be master skimmers and virtuosos of speed-reading without sacrificing any value of the material they’re dealing with. For anyone in the intellectual world, however, in order to unearth the deepest meanings of a certain work, a deliberate, steady-paced, insightful reading is a must.
For myself, a deliberate read can often lead to new discoveries and pertinent sections of text that could easily have been neglected or passed-over. The above quote from Blake is a fantastic example. The first time through I regarded these lines as archaic, oddly worded verses of English poetry. Being unfamiliar with Blake, I had no reason to stop and consider them from a different angle. Yet, upon reading on in the chapter and visualizing the importance these verses held in Oe’s world—it was only then that I went back to read them again.
Nought loves another as itself –I can perhaps surmise as to why Oe chose a stanza that begins with such a line. Yet, that is the beauty of a deliberate read endowed with literary precision. Often times, to truly understand a work means not only to understand it in the context of itself—in this instance, a grasp of Oe’s personal and family life is critical—but also to understand it as the work of another human being, as the heartfelt expression of another human being who lives on the same very planet that you do. Furthermore, to overlay the context of one’s one life with that of the work, or with any specific lines that grasp one’s mind, and to re-interpret them as a message aimed directly at one’s self. For me, this line—Nought loves another as itself—refers directly to human morality, to a struggle between the power of ego and the compassion to relate to others. Even in daily life, we can find startling examples of a “self which loves itself above all others.” From breaking up with a girlfriend (perhaps one of the tougher things for even a hardened heart to deal with) to telling your friends that “I’m staying in tonight,” a sense of personal awareness and self-identity is critical. For the intellectual, having the consciousness and facility—and often times gall—to adhere to one’s personal values in the face of ridicule from society, family, friends and god. That is self-respect and self-love. Even for a Christian, to be aware of the facilities and mental prowess that God has gifted humankind, to utilize the consciousness that is the essence of the being God has breathed into one’s self—that is self-affirmation and a pure love and thankfulness for human existence.
From there, the Blake stanza continues:
Nor venerates another so. This continuation further sheds light on the human condition and spiritual consciousness. The god-like deity at the center of Blake’s world and the sense of spiritual responsibility entailed there is unequivocally representative of Blake’s own source of veneration toward another. And thus is the same for humans around the globe. Despite our own self-affirmation and sense of egoism, humans will find a person, object or idea to venerate without fail. For the Christian, of course God is venerated—the redeemer, holiest of holies, Yahweh, the creator, Jehovah—the list of worshipful names goes on and on. Secular youth in our world also find things to venerate, to worship as something desirable or awesome. Popularity emblazoned with the brand of a particular group; alcohol, tobacco, marijuana, cocaine; sex, physical beauty and lust are all venerated to the utmost by young people in the world today.
Any Christian would acknowledge such things as true and irrevocably evil, yet the majority of them (especially those of an older generation) do not understand the degree to which these things have become objects of veneration in today’s world. Myriad newspaper articles and recent surveys—I’ve participated in them as a high school student—will tell you that drug use and preteen sex is on the rise, and consequently fear and apprehension for our youth’s future will rise accordingly. But it will no doubt be brushed off as only that, a simple fear. A fear as simple as the threat of a second terrorist attack on the United States, the fear of stuttering when talking to an important individual or the fear of contracting herpes simplex A or B from your girlfriend who has a cold sore—in the end, such fears are molted by day’s end, leaving a flaky, incorrigible shaft of dead skin behind.
For myself, someone who has personally declared a desire for core consciousness and intellectual existence, the sense of self-awareness and self-respect (Nought loves another as itself) is only compounded upon by veneration for other people. Friends I consider striving forward towards intellectual principles, authors and thinkers (Oe being at the center of these true intellectuals) who have become critical supportive role models throughout my own rationalizations, thought processes, failures, and forbearances—all these are highly venerated in my personal view. As an imperfect human being, vice and other evils are most likely included in my list of personal venerations. Yet it is through repentance—one Christian value that I would regard as utterly parallel to those of the humanist—that veneration becomes as integral to one’s existence as a sense of self-affirmation.
A young boy is delivering these lines to his father in Blake’s Songs of Innocence. In lines five and six, he says:
And father how can I love you
Or any of my brothers more?
These lines are most significant viewed in light of Oe’s work and personal life. The son protesting against his father in Oe’s world is Hikari, Oe’s firstborn son. Hikari was born mentally handicapped and to this day remains a child in the ungainly body of a forty-year old man. Yet Hikari too has found his own source of self-affirmation and a love for human existence. Through his composition of music, the mentally damaged son has found his own mode of self-expression and a reason to strive on living. However, due to his mental condition and inability to communicate directly using the language of human beings, it is Hikari’s ability to venerate another human being or object that comes into question. Despite his own source of self-awareness and personal consciousness, Hikari cannot grasp human emotion to the level where he would feel enraptured or worshipful of another human being or human construct (including ideology and moral behavior).
Oe utilizes Blake’s lines to question his own son’s behavior towards his family and father. During a rough period in Hikari’s existence where dealing with him at home was causing stress on the family, I believe these lines were deeply engraved on Oe’s heart and mind. In the extreme, the father of a mentally damaged child may question if his son can actually love, can actually feel any sense of veneration or thanksgiving towards individuals or other aspects of human society.
It is Oe’s stark mode of expression, this direct confrontation with reality that sets him apart in my mind not only as a Japanese novelist but as an outstanding example of a humanist intellectual in our world today. It is only through a deliberate and insightful read (slow, well-contemplated reading being another of Oe’s impervious standpoints) of Oe’s works that I have been able to fully realize the importance of self-affirmation and humanistic reconsideration. It is an unruly road that knows no end, but will therefore stop at nothing to bring reconciliation—it is the only path towards attaining core consciousness in our world. Through self-affirmation achieved in light of the inevitable venerations of the human being, the intellectual’s vocation and road to enlightenment shine through with a brilliance unmatched by the whole of every star in the cosmos.
“It’s true, life is nothing but a series of moments. If I have something terrible in my life I can easily file it away as just a single moment and live for the next!”
I was elated. To think, that my parent's recent divorce or my father’s loss of job—those things are restricted to the single moment in which they occurred in my world. I felt a connection with Buddhism, which I had learned about entirely from James Clavell’s Shogun. A well written novel concerning feudal Japan’s emergence into the modern period and the struggle of the Westerner in Japan during those times, but by no means a basis for an understanding of Buddhism, a religion at the core of Asian spiritual consciousness. The brief understanding of Buddhism I had at that time has flourished, if only minutely, throughout my study of Asia and time in Japan. Yet then, it was the utter nothingness, the lack of significance attached to the single moment and the corresponding ability of human beings to bear any series of events or catastrophes that pulled so fiercely at my consciousness. Raised as a Christian in middle America, I had previously felt a strong sense of personal responsibility and guilt surrounding my father’s loss of job and the resulting divorce of my parents. To wish it all away, to succumb to that vestige of eternal nothingness—this became a source of healing for my harrowed soul.
Then I began to understand what this common phrase really represented to my generation. It was not any means of personal reconciliation. It was a simple excuse, a way to forget something stupid that you did the day before.
“Whoa, I don’t even remember a thing that happened last night!”
“Yeah? Shit happens eh?”
Such dialogue would seem completely ludicrous to past generations of Americans. Yet for us of this generation, it is all-too natural to refer to incidents in this manner. Upon being confronted with responsibility—either given a slight chance to affirm one’s own downfalls or foolish mistakes, or shed light on a personal reason for striving onward day by day—any definite thought or even minute sense of responsibility is readily replaced with any of set phrases stated: “Shit Happens,” “Same old shit everyday,” or “You know me.” It is disheartening to know that numberless adolescents around America are adulterating an idea—to sickening proportions, at that—that has been popularized and accepted as Philosophy in the mind of the average American.
* * *
Nought loves another as itself
Nor venerates another so.
Nor is it possible to Thought
A greater than itself to know.
And father, how can I love you,
Or any of my brothers more?
I love you like a little bird
That picks up crumbs around the door.
-William Blake, Songs of Innocence
I came upon this quote from Blake while reading Kenzaburo Oe’s Rouse up O Young Men of the New Age! It was my love of Oe’s work that brought me to this novel, and through a deliberate reading of the first chapter in Japanese, and then English, I have developed a fine perception of both Oe’s relationship with his son, Hikari, in intermediate years, as well as a redefined love for the slow read. Reading in the world of modern literature is all about volume—how many pulp-fiction paperbacks, news magazines, or polemic piles of pro-American anti-Islam tripe you can swallow, digest (and most often defecate) within a workweek. I have always fancied myself a slow reader, yet perhaps the most accurate term is a deliberate reader. Of course, preference and necessity may vary from person to person. Many in academic vocations can probably be master skimmers and virtuosos of speed-reading without sacrificing any value of the material they’re dealing with. For anyone in the intellectual world, however, in order to unearth the deepest meanings of a certain work, a deliberate, steady-paced, insightful reading is a must.
For myself, a deliberate read can often lead to new discoveries and pertinent sections of text that could easily have been neglected or passed-over. The above quote from Blake is a fantastic example. The first time through I regarded these lines as archaic, oddly worded verses of English poetry. Being unfamiliar with Blake, I had no reason to stop and consider them from a different angle. Yet, upon reading on in the chapter and visualizing the importance these verses held in Oe’s world—it was only then that I went back to read them again.
Nought loves another as itself –I can perhaps surmise as to why Oe chose a stanza that begins with such a line. Yet, that is the beauty of a deliberate read endowed with literary precision. Often times, to truly understand a work means not only to understand it in the context of itself—in this instance, a grasp of Oe’s personal and family life is critical—but also to understand it as the work of another human being, as the heartfelt expression of another human being who lives on the same very planet that you do. Furthermore, to overlay the context of one’s one life with that of the work, or with any specific lines that grasp one’s mind, and to re-interpret them as a message aimed directly at one’s self. For me, this line—Nought loves another as itself—refers directly to human morality, to a struggle between the power of ego and the compassion to relate to others. Even in daily life, we can find startling examples of a “self which loves itself above all others.” From breaking up with a girlfriend (perhaps one of the tougher things for even a hardened heart to deal with) to telling your friends that “I’m staying in tonight,” a sense of personal awareness and self-identity is critical. For the intellectual, having the consciousness and facility—and often times gall—to adhere to one’s personal values in the face of ridicule from society, family, friends and god. That is self-respect and self-love. Even for a Christian, to be aware of the facilities and mental prowess that God has gifted humankind, to utilize the consciousness that is the essence of the being God has breathed into one’s self—that is self-affirmation and a pure love and thankfulness for human existence.
From there, the Blake stanza continues:
Nor venerates another so. This continuation further sheds light on the human condition and spiritual consciousness. The god-like deity at the center of Blake’s world and the sense of spiritual responsibility entailed there is unequivocally representative of Blake’s own source of veneration toward another. And thus is the same for humans around the globe. Despite our own self-affirmation and sense of egoism, humans will find a person, object or idea to venerate without fail. For the Christian, of course God is venerated—the redeemer, holiest of holies, Yahweh, the creator, Jehovah—the list of worshipful names goes on and on. Secular youth in our world also find things to venerate, to worship as something desirable or awesome. Popularity emblazoned with the brand of a particular group; alcohol, tobacco, marijuana, cocaine; sex, physical beauty and lust are all venerated to the utmost by young people in the world today.
Any Christian would acknowledge such things as true and irrevocably evil, yet the majority of them (especially those of an older generation) do not understand the degree to which these things have become objects of veneration in today’s world. Myriad newspaper articles and recent surveys—I’ve participated in them as a high school student—will tell you that drug use and preteen sex is on the rise, and consequently fear and apprehension for our youth’s future will rise accordingly. But it will no doubt be brushed off as only that, a simple fear. A fear as simple as the threat of a second terrorist attack on the United States, the fear of stuttering when talking to an important individual or the fear of contracting herpes simplex A or B from your girlfriend who has a cold sore—in the end, such fears are molted by day’s end, leaving a flaky, incorrigible shaft of dead skin behind.
For myself, someone who has personally declared a desire for core consciousness and intellectual existence, the sense of self-awareness and self-respect (Nought loves another as itself) is only compounded upon by veneration for other people. Friends I consider striving forward towards intellectual principles, authors and thinkers (Oe being at the center of these true intellectuals) who have become critical supportive role models throughout my own rationalizations, thought processes, failures, and forbearances—all these are highly venerated in my personal view. As an imperfect human being, vice and other evils are most likely included in my list of personal venerations. Yet it is through repentance—one Christian value that I would regard as utterly parallel to those of the humanist—that veneration becomes as integral to one’s existence as a sense of self-affirmation.
A young boy is delivering these lines to his father in Blake’s Songs of Innocence. In lines five and six, he says:
And father how can I love you
Or any of my brothers more?
These lines are most significant viewed in light of Oe’s work and personal life. The son protesting against his father in Oe’s world is Hikari, Oe’s firstborn son. Hikari was born mentally handicapped and to this day remains a child in the ungainly body of a forty-year old man. Yet Hikari too has found his own source of self-affirmation and a love for human existence. Through his composition of music, the mentally damaged son has found his own mode of self-expression and a reason to strive on living. However, due to his mental condition and inability to communicate directly using the language of human beings, it is Hikari’s ability to venerate another human being or object that comes into question. Despite his own source of self-awareness and personal consciousness, Hikari cannot grasp human emotion to the level where he would feel enraptured or worshipful of another human being or human construct (including ideology and moral behavior).
Oe utilizes Blake’s lines to question his own son’s behavior towards his family and father. During a rough period in Hikari’s existence where dealing with him at home was causing stress on the family, I believe these lines were deeply engraved on Oe’s heart and mind. In the extreme, the father of a mentally damaged child may question if his son can actually love, can actually feel any sense of veneration or thanksgiving towards individuals or other aspects of human society.
It is Oe’s stark mode of expression, this direct confrontation with reality that sets him apart in my mind not only as a Japanese novelist but as an outstanding example of a humanist intellectual in our world today. It is only through a deliberate and insightful read (slow, well-contemplated reading being another of Oe’s impervious standpoints) of Oe’s works that I have been able to fully realize the importance of self-affirmation and humanistic reconsideration. It is an unruly road that knows no end, but will therefore stop at nothing to bring reconciliation—it is the only path towards attaining core consciousness in our world. Through self-affirmation achieved in light of the inevitable venerations of the human being, the intellectual’s vocation and road to enlightenment shine through with a brilliance unmatched by the whole of every star in the cosmos.
December 26, 2004
Holiday Reflections from Chiba, Japan
It is the day after Christmas. In Japan, feels like it could be any day in the holiday season. Christmas could have come to pass without me even knowing it. Granted, I was able to spend Christmas Eve with some of my best friends ever from the U.S., but the only thing that made it feel even the least bit like Christmas was the one foot tall tree at the base of the fridge. The phone call I just received from my home in America however, was enough to warm my heart for the remainder of this sake-filled, jubilant yet no one knows quite why time of the year. Just imagining the warm, enjoyable Christmas my Mother, siblings and Grandparents had as we talked and laughed together will be an infinitely cherished present until I return to my home in another 8 months.
In Japan, the roles of the major year-end holidays and starkly reversed in comparison with the United States. Christmas Eve is American New Years: an important couple’s night, lots of drinking and partying, and the ever-celebrated late-night kiss. Conversely, New Year’s Eve and Day in Japan are strictly family holidays consisting of lackluster time spent around a kotatsu,(greatest Japanese invention ever: electric heated table blanketed for ultimate winter comfort during meal and relaxation time) drinking sake, and eating myriad traditional okashi, snacks and other goods. Also, on oshogatsu, New Year’s Day, an entire family will energetically cooperate in the annual osouji, lit. “A big clean!” This has most likely been practiced for centuries in Japan; in ridding the house of dirt, dust and other unwanted elements, ill feelings also are swept out to cleanse one’s mind and spirit for the New Year. I think it’s a stellar traditional and will most likely be cleaning my humble mansion, the way Japanese refer to a regular apartment, with all the zeal I can muster on that day.
Any student of Japanese or Asian studies will be quick to admit that Asia and the West are starkly different in many respects. The holiday season, while undoubtedly an important time of the year for both hemispheres, is another simple aspect in which the cultural and social differences prevalent here come to light. For Christians in the West, Christmas is the day to celebrate Christ’s birth. Spending that day with family and the exchange of presents is certainly the Christian’s way of expressing their love not only for Jesus Christ but also towards each other. Christmas is most likely considered the most important holiday of the year by Americans, Christian or supposed-Christian or what-have-you.
In contrast, the birth of a new year in Asia has superceded any other annual holidays to become the most important day of the calendar year. As in the West, religion plays an important role during the holiday season, and visits to Buddhist and Shinto shrines are also an important part of New Year festivities. Being in Japan, thousands of miles away from my family, and spending a quite atypical Christmas (despite being amongst great friends) has only further forced me to consider the East and West in contrast to each other. It seems like that’s what’s been drilled into my head ever since I began my study of Japan and Asia, and sometimes the differences, no matter how critical, are just not what you want to think about. It’s simple to look past them, to just enjoy life as an exchange student in a beautiful and poignant nation like Japan. However, ultimately as an American, to find my place in the world—which will be fully conscious of Asia—requires a constant reevaluation of culture and language and society in general. More often than not, such a reevaluation leads to a cascade into a deeper realm of human, forlorn, and therefore painful thought; it is not rare that I feel spite or even hatred towards any simple-minded individual who cannot grasp the vastness of the world and the eternal obligation of mankind that is knowledge and enlightenment. Yet, as I sit in my room in Chiba prefecture, not even an hour from the great city of Tokyo that rampantly pervaded my thoughts while in America, that old feeling of strife and disillusionment and hatred towards non-intellectuals seems to have dimmed to but a flicker. Maybe it is the general cheery air of the holidays, or the fact that I just spoke with the most important people in the world to me—my mother and my grandparents—on the telephone. The latter rings true. Despite the fact that my Grandpa is quite possibly the most intelligent man I know, I don’t believe his knowledge of Japanese culture extends far beyond that of most Americans. “Does that mean I hold spite against him?” my self at one point may have asked. Absolutely not. In accordance, is it fair to express an equal level of hatred towards the general public who is perhaps ignorant concerning the way of the intellectual and those striving for humanist existence? In the direct fashion of the true humanists: again absolutely not. Then why does a feeling of such repulsion and resentment remain in me to this day? I am found asking myself even now. I must accept my duty as one striving for humanist, peaceful existence and not hate my fellow man. That is what one should think. But now matter how often one ignores such trespasses against humanity itself, specifically ignorance concerning the intrinsic value of world culture, a lack and even utter refusal of the principles of international communication, and at the worst, racism in the form of slander, racist jokes, and stereotyping, such grievances will never cease to plague the world we live in. This is the struggle of the humanist, the intellectual, and those who have access to core consciousness.
The most remarkable thing striking me just now is how closely these ideals parallel those of Christianity. Having been brought up under a newer domination of Christianity, the Free Evangelical sect, such a realization was hidden from my eyes. All I knew was that I despised these so-called Christians, people who claimed these similar humanist ideals, yet the only thing they could seem to do about it was to come to church twice a week and throw money in the pot when it came around. In reality, these are selfish Christians, people who are there because they don’t really have any other ambition in life and certainly no conception of intellectuality. They are there so that they can feel like they are doings something, anything right. It’s a self-confidence boost, as simple as a slap on the back or a note from your teacher. “No no, you belong here. Take a deep breath, and just don’t worry. You’re gonna do fine.” Such phrases echoed through my own head during my years as a “Christian” at that Evangelical Free church. I knew I didn’t take any of what I was being literally forced to listen to by my parents with more than a single grain of salt, yet consistently I could be found reassuring myself in my thoughts of my own salvation. I knew nothing of my own agenda, yet I was positive that God had chosen me for “everlasting life,” as it is so pleasantly stated. That’s what it comes down to: good, honest people simply floating along in life, not doing anything special with their lives or even fully exercising the intellect that God has given them, constantly reassuring themselves that it’s all gonna be okay, as long as I have the church here to support me, other people like me who are all going to end up in heaven.
Here is where the humanist and intellectual ideals compound upon my upbringing as a typical Christian. I still feel to this day that Jesus Christ does exist, and that Christianity is the true religion. Yet for me, to float through life without even paying a minute of attention to the vast world of civilization and the myriad cultures, religions and ideas it supports would be tantamount to a negation of any significant existence as a human or one of “God’s creatures."
As Christians believe, God has bestowed gifts upon his people. The foremost of these is language, whether in written, spoken, or symbolic form. Language allows humans to express themselves, not only to each other but ideally to their god as well. Also, language has been utilized for centuries as a mode of expression for the intellectual, and even the Bible, the holy scriptures of the Christian religion, is a prime example of the pertinence of language. Invariably, reading is the method used to attain knowledge. Given this, knowledge, unquestionably another gift upon mankind, garners high relevance for the importance of reading as a conventional activity of human beings. It is a difficult thought to word accurately, but what I truly mean is that without reading and literature and language, life as we know it ceases to exist, therefore it should be treated more preciously, much more than it is in this internet and TV and mass media washed-out society. I impel the responsibility of reading and striving towards knowledge with the same passion and immediacy as Christ proclaimed, “We will make fishers of men.” They are equally important to any Christian living in Christ’s image and in thanksgiving and respect of the gifts God has bestowed upon mankind.
In Japan, the roles of the major year-end holidays and starkly reversed in comparison with the United States. Christmas Eve is American New Years: an important couple’s night, lots of drinking and partying, and the ever-celebrated late-night kiss. Conversely, New Year’s Eve and Day in Japan are strictly family holidays consisting of lackluster time spent around a kotatsu,(greatest Japanese invention ever: electric heated table blanketed for ultimate winter comfort during meal and relaxation time) drinking sake, and eating myriad traditional okashi, snacks and other goods. Also, on oshogatsu, New Year’s Day, an entire family will energetically cooperate in the annual osouji, lit. “A big clean!” This has most likely been practiced for centuries in Japan; in ridding the house of dirt, dust and other unwanted elements, ill feelings also are swept out to cleanse one’s mind and spirit for the New Year. I think it’s a stellar traditional and will most likely be cleaning my humble mansion, the way Japanese refer to a regular apartment, with all the zeal I can muster on that day.
Any student of Japanese or Asian studies will be quick to admit that Asia and the West are starkly different in many respects. The holiday season, while undoubtedly an important time of the year for both hemispheres, is another simple aspect in which the cultural and social differences prevalent here come to light. For Christians in the West, Christmas is the day to celebrate Christ’s birth. Spending that day with family and the exchange of presents is certainly the Christian’s way of expressing their love not only for Jesus Christ but also towards each other. Christmas is most likely considered the most important holiday of the year by Americans, Christian or supposed-Christian or what-have-you.
In contrast, the birth of a new year in Asia has superceded any other annual holidays to become the most important day of the calendar year. As in the West, religion plays an important role during the holiday season, and visits to Buddhist and Shinto shrines are also an important part of New Year festivities. Being in Japan, thousands of miles away from my family, and spending a quite atypical Christmas (despite being amongst great friends) has only further forced me to consider the East and West in contrast to each other. It seems like that’s what’s been drilled into my head ever since I began my study of Japan and Asia, and sometimes the differences, no matter how critical, are just not what you want to think about. It’s simple to look past them, to just enjoy life as an exchange student in a beautiful and poignant nation like Japan. However, ultimately as an American, to find my place in the world—which will be fully conscious of Asia—requires a constant reevaluation of culture and language and society in general. More often than not, such a reevaluation leads to a cascade into a deeper realm of human, forlorn, and therefore painful thought; it is not rare that I feel spite or even hatred towards any simple-minded individual who cannot grasp the vastness of the world and the eternal obligation of mankind that is knowledge and enlightenment. Yet, as I sit in my room in Chiba prefecture, not even an hour from the great city of Tokyo that rampantly pervaded my thoughts while in America, that old feeling of strife and disillusionment and hatred towards non-intellectuals seems to have dimmed to but a flicker. Maybe it is the general cheery air of the holidays, or the fact that I just spoke with the most important people in the world to me—my mother and my grandparents—on the telephone. The latter rings true. Despite the fact that my Grandpa is quite possibly the most intelligent man I know, I don’t believe his knowledge of Japanese culture extends far beyond that of most Americans. “Does that mean I hold spite against him?” my self at one point may have asked. Absolutely not. In accordance, is it fair to express an equal level of hatred towards the general public who is perhaps ignorant concerning the way of the intellectual and those striving for humanist existence? In the direct fashion of the true humanists: again absolutely not. Then why does a feeling of such repulsion and resentment remain in me to this day? I am found asking myself even now. I must accept my duty as one striving for humanist, peaceful existence and not hate my fellow man. That is what one should think. But now matter how often one ignores such trespasses against humanity itself, specifically ignorance concerning the intrinsic value of world culture, a lack and even utter refusal of the principles of international communication, and at the worst, racism in the form of slander, racist jokes, and stereotyping, such grievances will never cease to plague the world we live in. This is the struggle of the humanist, the intellectual, and those who have access to core consciousness.
The most remarkable thing striking me just now is how closely these ideals parallel those of Christianity. Having been brought up under a newer domination of Christianity, the Free Evangelical sect, such a realization was hidden from my eyes. All I knew was that I despised these so-called Christians, people who claimed these similar humanist ideals, yet the only thing they could seem to do about it was to come to church twice a week and throw money in the pot when it came around. In reality, these are selfish Christians, people who are there because they don’t really have any other ambition in life and certainly no conception of intellectuality. They are there so that they can feel like they are doings something, anything right. It’s a self-confidence boost, as simple as a slap on the back or a note from your teacher. “No no, you belong here. Take a deep breath, and just don’t worry. You’re gonna do fine.” Such phrases echoed through my own head during my years as a “Christian” at that Evangelical Free church. I knew I didn’t take any of what I was being literally forced to listen to by my parents with more than a single grain of salt, yet consistently I could be found reassuring myself in my thoughts of my own salvation. I knew nothing of my own agenda, yet I was positive that God had chosen me for “everlasting life,” as it is so pleasantly stated. That’s what it comes down to: good, honest people simply floating along in life, not doing anything special with their lives or even fully exercising the intellect that God has given them, constantly reassuring themselves that it’s all gonna be okay, as long as I have the church here to support me, other people like me who are all going to end up in heaven.
Here is where the humanist and intellectual ideals compound upon my upbringing as a typical Christian. I still feel to this day that Jesus Christ does exist, and that Christianity is the true religion. Yet for me, to float through life without even paying a minute of attention to the vast world of civilization and the myriad cultures, religions and ideas it supports would be tantamount to a negation of any significant existence as a human or one of “God’s creatures."
As Christians believe, God has bestowed gifts upon his people. The foremost of these is language, whether in written, spoken, or symbolic form. Language allows humans to express themselves, not only to each other but ideally to their god as well. Also, language has been utilized for centuries as a mode of expression for the intellectual, and even the Bible, the holy scriptures of the Christian religion, is a prime example of the pertinence of language. Invariably, reading is the method used to attain knowledge. Given this, knowledge, unquestionably another gift upon mankind, garners high relevance for the importance of reading as a conventional activity of human beings. It is a difficult thought to word accurately, but what I truly mean is that without reading and literature and language, life as we know it ceases to exist, therefore it should be treated more preciously, much more than it is in this internet and TV and mass media washed-out society. I impel the responsibility of reading and striving towards knowledge with the same passion and immediacy as Christ proclaimed, “We will make fishers of men.” They are equally important to any Christian living in Christ’s image and in thanksgiving and respect of the gifts God has bestowed upon mankind.
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