Ohayo. Ohayo. New Jersey.

Before coming to Japan, I was given advice about what to expect here.  “Don’t hold open doors for people…they freak out.” (No, they don’t)  “Kids will make a mad dash for your crotch.”  (Yup)  “They’ll make you try all sorts of stuff, even if you say you don’t like it.”  (Not really)  “You will always be an outsider, no matter what or how long you are there.”  This last one struck me as peculiar, even harsh.  It seemed to paint a picture that the Japanese aren’t affectionate or even all that welcoming.  In my experience here in Hokkaido, that statement couldn’t be further from the truth.

My relationship with my board of education can be likened to that of a second family.  At an enkai (party) it was discussed as to who played what role amongst my new Japanese “relatives.”  I have an aunt that likes to party.  A couple of smart uncles.  A smoky older brother.  Even a new grandpa and grandma.  Cute doesn’t even begin to describe it.

My Japanese おばあさん (grandmother) has been the pillar of this warm and fuzzy feeling.  She was my “office lady” at my board of education (BOE), and was the one that picked me up from the airport in Sapporo when I first arrived.  Her English is very limited, but somehow I always manage to understand what she’s saying.  She’s been an incredible help since I’ve been here.  She’s booked bus tickets, helped with the jungle of paperwork for my internet and car, and even drove me to school on rainy days before I got my car.  Above all the errands she helped me do and number of times she picked me up at the bus station, what stands out to me is her constant gift of food.  She prepared bento lunches for me whenever I wasn’t at a school or would treat me to lunch at my favorite soba shop.  When she picked me up from after a long bus ride, she’d have some late night snacks for me to munch on, knowing that I hadn’t eaten much of a dinner.  She retired at the beginning of March, but insists that I still have her pick me up after those long bus rides and has me over at her house for daily lunches with her and her mother.  Before leaving the States, I was told that it’d be a good long while before I would ever set foot into a Japanese home.  Boy, if they could see me now!

I’ve wondered a lot about why I’ve been able to easily become a part of the Japanese community here.  Maybe it’s because I’m half Korean so I look more Japanese than a blonde-haired blue-eyed white dude so I’m less threatening.  I’m sure that might play some role, but I doubt that it’s a very major role because my predecessors looked nothing like me and they seemed to also enjoy the warmth of the community here.  It could be the fact that this office is just accustomed to taking foreigners in under its wing and is more internationalized.  Yeah, that makes sense, but it doesn’t explain why I’ve become family friends with people I don’t work with.  Could it be that the folks here in Hokkaido are atypical from the Japanese in the rest of the country?  Possibly…Hokkaido folk tend to be more laid back than their neighbors to the south, and also less “Japanese” if that makes much sense.  But I still doubt that that’s it.    Maybe there’s something wrong with the warning statement in the first place.  Maybe it was said by someone who was just jaded that he didn’t get the hero’s welcome that he felt entitled to.  What it all boils down to, though, is the fact that I really don’t know.  I don’t need to question people’s motives behind their kindness.  I also don’t like attributing this phenomenon to anything based in what I’ve done.  I just think that I’m really lucky to be a part of a community that has warmly tucked me into their lives, and for that I can never think of myself as an outsider here.