When I returned to Canada from Japan last summer I began to think
about my life in a different manner. The exact reason for this
I cannot say. Perhaps in writing this column I will be able to
more clearly understand what I felt and what it means for my future.
It all started shortly after I arrived home when I began to experience
some interesting feelings and thoughts about who I was and what
I was doing in life. These thoughts and ideas came in various
forms but all were quite strange and surprising. I call them strange
because I had never before thought of my life or my existence
for that matter in such ways. If my reflections are too ethereal
or just plain boring you'll just have to excuse me or better yet
simply stop reading.
When I was in Japan it was almost like I had been taking a mood
enhancing narcotic that either sped up the pace of my everyday
existence or at least greatly modified what I perceived to be
reality. Reality is relative to the individual of course, but
somehow when I was in Japan I truly felt like what I was seeing,
smelling and hearing did not actually exist. It was not just because
of the differences between Canada and Japan, nor the fact that
I didn't posses enough language ability to communicate effectively,
but rather the fact that for the year that I lived in Japan I
observed life taking place all around me, and it was Japanese
life and reality, not my own. I think the reason for my disassociation
from that reality can be explained with the analogy of a grain
of salt in a glass of salt water. That is, the glass was Japan,
the water, the reality of life in Japanese society, the salt,
the Japanese who went about their everyday lives, and me of course
the grain of sand. No matter how vigorously the water was stirred,
the salt never became absorbed into the water, though at times
it was carried along with the current at such a speed so that
to the naked eye it was no different than the salt in the churning
water. When the stirring stopped though and the water cleared,
the grain of sand could always be found at the bottom of the glass,
alone. This is not in anyway a criticism of Japanese society as
it is my observations and comparisons between that of my own culture
and that of Japan's. Indeed, before I went to Japan I was not
aware that I had a culture, and if anyone would have asked me
I would have had no idea how to explain what life in Canada was
like or what characteristics Canadian people shared in common.
Anyway I had better get back to what I thought this column might
be about, reality.
When the grain of sand left the glass it felt heavy, slow and
even cold, just about how a grain of sand must feel like when
it is taken out of a glass of turning water and dropped onto a
large platter. Now imagine that the platter has not just other
grains of sand but various sizes of pebbles, stones, glass, and
even a grain of salt or two. Now you might be able to feel how
I felt when I returned home to Canada. The grain of sand on the
platter had no water to carry it, and although it had other grains
of sand to be with it didn't feel like it did when it was in the
glass of water with the salt. At least in the glass of water the
grain of salt could float along merrily making itself believe
at times that in reality it was a grain of salt, but on the platter
there was no mistaking a grain of salt with a pebble or a piece
of glass. It was as if the grain of sand took on some of the nature
of the salt simply because there were so many grains of salt and
so few grains of sand in the glass of water. What is better then?
A reality where a grain of sand can sometimes be or at least feel
like a grain of salt, or a reality where the pebbles, glass and
sand all know that they will never quite mix or feel comfortable
with each other even though they all share some common characteristic,
that being that they are Canadian.
I have heard of some grains of sand, mostly southern sand, that
have actually become salt or something very similar to it in taste.
These "pseudo-salt particles" have been more-or-less accepted
by the salt water mixture and live quite enjoyable lives but,
so far the process of "saltification" is a difficult one reserved
for those salt grains who have achieved a celebrity status among
the community of salt. What does all this mean? Well, it will
probably mean different things to different people and nothing
to others. For me, as a Canadian, I have never felt much cultural
belonging. Growing up in Vancouver was like growing up in not
one country but many. My friends came from all over the world:
China, Japan, India, and many of the countries in Europe. Most
of them maintained their cultures, languages and traditions from
their native countries while at the same time "becoming" Canadian.
Which they felt stronger, being a Canadian or a citizen of their
home country I am not sure. Many Canadians will tell you that
it is a special feature of life in Canada that so many cultures
come together and live in general peace and harmony. Before I
experienced life in Japan, that was about all I could have told
someone who asked me what life in Canada was like. Now however
I can see that all those different cultures don't necessarily
"mix" with one another, and as a result, the Canadian culture
is, for me, somewhat of a murky point. My experience in Japan
showed me a people who shared common history, language, beliefs
and ideals, and most importantly, culture. This all translates
to a strong Japanese "reality", and a feeling of belonging. It
was this feeling that I occasionally felt in Japan as I worked
and lived a Japanese life for a year. Clearly I was not Japanese,
but I participated in the Japanese reality and lived the Japanese
life to the extent that at times I forgot that I was not Japanese.
I was not unlike the nameless cat in Natsume Soseki's tale "Wagahai
ha neko de aru" แyอLล ้(one of my favorite books) who at times forgets that he is a cat and feels more comfortable
in the presence of humans than his fellow felines. The "Japanese
reality", or unity, or whatever you would like to call it was
so different for me that it made me realize how much I was missing.
I have never felt about my life, the way I perceived the Japanese
to feel about their culture and country. Of course I love and
am proud of my country but I feel that I dont quite belong here in the sense that I don't< share a common
reality with the others around me. The only thing that every Canadian
really shares is the fact that they are all supposed to accept
the many kinds of different cultures that have chosen to reside
here. This is a great thing in itself but for myself, after seeing
a life where everyone shares so much more, my existence here has
become somewhat spiritless and cold, like a motionless grain of
sand on a platter. At this point I feel that it would be better
to live in a country where there is a very strong, common culture
even though it is not mine, rather than to live in a country where
the native culture is uncertain and intangible.
In Canada, I have met many young Japanese people who are here
with working-holiday visas. A large portion of them think that
Canada would be a great place to live for the rest of their lives.
In Canada, they say, they can escape the sometimes suffocating
nature of life in Japan. They can feel "free" they say. I say
that they should really think about what that freedom means. Is
it really freedom or is it actually emptiness? Please let me know
if you have a good answer to any of these questions. |
