Many Japanese expats here in the States often speak of the “suffocating” feeling of being in Japan, but I’ve never heard it from a non-Japanese. This feeling has nothing to do with the fact that Japan is a small country or that you have to live in a tiny closet apartment. Rather, it is to do with the culture, such as social expectations, notions of shame, conformity, and honor. I would imagine that, for a foreigner to feel this sense of suffocation, he/she would have to have a deep understanding of the social fabric of Japan. The following is an interesting essay on this subject written by an American artist in Virginia, USA.

http://www.traces.ws/writings/gambatte.htm

What I’m about to tell you may be very specific to New York, but there has been a trend among Chinese and Korean restaurateurs to open Japanese restaurants without paying any respect to the art of Japanese cuisine. This is obviously done solely to take advantage of the bigger profit margin associated with Japanese cuisine. Don’t get me wrong; I have nothing against Chinese or Korean people. And, I respect their cuisines just as much as I respect Japanese cuisine. I’m also aware of the frustration Koreans have about the Japanese people making Kimchi that does not meet the Korean standard. My problem is that I just don’t like people who disrespect the cultures of others, and do nothing but to exploit them.

Read the full article at DYSKE.COM

I moved to the States when I was 17, and I’m 35 this year, which means that I’m over 50% American, that is, if I assumed a linear relationship between the time spent and the amount of cultural influence. However, most things of this nature rarely have a linear relationship. We tend to learn much quicker when we are younger, and I would imagine that at some point, the speed at which we acquire knowledge levels off. Because of this, in some ways, I’m more Japanese, but the fact that I spent the last 18 years of my life here in America, makes me more in tune with American culture than I am with Japanese culture.

Today, I received an Email from a writer of a site called Chanpon. “Chanpon” in Japanese refers to a bowl of noodle soup with a variety of vegetables and meats. The word is also metaphorically used to refer to things that are mixed up beyond recognition. As I was reading the articles posted on this site, I realized that the site is truly chanpon. Some articles are about the experiences of the foreigners living in Japan, while others are about the exact opposite, the experiences of those with a Japanese background living outside of Japan. I’ve always been curious about the experiences of my counter part in Japan. This site gave me a glimpse into that world.

I’ve always imagined that a Westerner going to Japan is easier than a Japanese going to the West, for several reasons. The most significant reason is that the Japanese people adore Westerners especially those of non-Asian race. This is essentially reverse racism, and I could imagine that it could cause some difficulties, but reverse racism in general offers just as much advantage as it does disadvantage, if not more. But, perhaps, this is a glass-glows-gleener phenomenon. One tends to exaggerate one’s own experiences in comparison to others. And, I’m certainly not trying to play a piece of violin music along to the story of my life.

What Chanpon.org is trying to achieve is conceptually quite peculiar. In a way, it is trying to find similarities in the opposites. It is sort of like the axiom in physics, “The only thing that is constant in this universe is change.” Perhaps, upon deep analyses of any relationships between individuals, one may find that the only thing that is similar is the dissimilarity.

“Community” by default seeks similarities. I normally dislike communities for this reason. Don’t get me wrong; I am not saying that communities should seek dissimilarities. I just find the activity of seeking similarities to be boring. I like communities whose reason for forming is not quite so obvious and contrived, especially since the driving force behind seeking similarities is usually a form of fear.

http://www.chanpon.org

After a while, listening to racial politics becomes very tiring. I attended an Asian American conference organized by the Asian American students at the Harvard Law School. I was invited to speak because of this site. I mentioned in my speech that, technically speaking, I don’t belong there because I am not a native-born American. Once I got there, I realized that this was truer than I had expected.

The most pressing issue, among many, that unites them is the American public’s perception of Asian Americans being foreign. Since I grew up in Japan until I was 17, I am a foreigner in many ways, and therefore I don’t expect people to perceive me as an authentic American. Even I don’t see myself that way. However, I can see native-born Asian Americans’ frustration of being perceived a foreigner. Unfortunately there is a good reason why this perception exists, and I am actually part of that reason. One of the speakers mentioned the statistics that 60% of Asians (Pacific Asians, to be more exact) are foreign-born. When this speaker said “we”, he meant the 40% who were born here. So there is a schism of foreign-born and native-born within the Asian American community. Within the 40% group, there is an unavoidable feeling of resentment towards the 60% group who perpetuates the perception of being foreign. I don’t blame them. It must be frustrating. Ideally speaking, even if you were the only native-born Asian American in this country, it would be unfair for anyone to see you as being foreign, but that’s just an ideal. Unfortunately many aspects of human nature aren’t ideal. It’s like your loved ones getting killed in a volcano eruption; what are you going to do? Human perception was not designed to be fair.

If you really want to solve this problem, I do have a suggestion, even though I can’t be bothered to pursue it myself. What you do is to take advantage of its unfairness: consciouslymanipulate it. Part of what makes human perception unfair is that it can be manipulated, and it, therefore, does not reflect the true state of matters. As I said in my speech, it’s just like advertising. Run TV commercials if you have to. It may sound ridiculous, but depending on the execution, it could do a lot. I’m not advocating this idea, but silly problems are usually solved by silly solutions.

At the conference, I felt like I was in an Asian cult group. I could understand the bitterness of some senior members since they had to go through some serious discriminations. And I could even thank some of them for doing certain things to make our lives easier, but if what they wanted was for Asian Americans to be able to live freely just like any other Americans, then they’ve done a fine job of it, and let’s just enjoy the fruits of their labor. Does it have to be an end in itself?

One of the younger speakers complained about kids throwing rocks at her as she was growing up. It’s not like white social-outcasts don’t get the same treatment. I know a plenty of white people who grew up getting picked on. Does it always have to be about race?

We all have problems with perceptions. Race is only one of many. Should bald men unite to fight the perception of being unattractive? Should geeks unite to fight the perception of being socially inept? Should blonde bombshells unite to fight the perception of being stupid? There is no end to fighting perceptions if you start. Besides, some perceptions associated with Asians are beneficial. Even if you are a mediocre computer programmer, people will still think you are a good one. Even if you are bad at math, people will still assume that you are a genius. If you are a fashion designer, because of the precedence and the perception of Asians being exotic, you have a better chance of succeeding at it than most people. The same goes for architects, engineers, news anchors, and even graphic designers.

Certainly there are fields where Asians may face some difficulties, especially if there is no precedence, but that is where you have the opportunity to do something truly unique and revolutionary. In the field where Asians are well-established, it would be easier for the rest of us to follow, but it is harder to achieve something that is truly great since you are always in the shadows of the great achievers of the past. If there are merits, of course, there are demerits. You can’t have everything in life. For those who are extremely success-driven in life, perhaps they need it all. They see some white people getting even more, and they feel that it’s unfair. It seems that the stereotype of Asians being over-achievers seems to be true here.

One of the speakers at the conference expressed her opinion that any successful Asian Americans owe it to the Asian American community, that they are accountable, and that they have responsibility to the Asian American community. If this is not a racist statement, I’m not sure what is. If this is true, any Asian criminals would owe it to the Asian community too, and we should be responsible for them. Guilt by association, or accountability by association, is the very problem of racism. I could not believe that the whole crowd was nodding their heads up and down and cheering on to this politician. It appeared to me that these people were truly sorry for being Asian. They kept emphasizing their pride of being Asian. That just sounds to me as silly as being proud of being bald or full-haired.

Some people don’t seem to know when to stop complaining and start living. Uniting to fight the perceptions of Asian Americans sounds anal-retentive to me, and it is no accident, I found out this weekend, that anal-retentiveness is another stereotype of Asians. (Well, this bit is just a joke, so take it easy.)

Here is my speech.

It seems that Ms. Wu’s piece on Shanghai was controversial, but I think she brings up a damn-good argument. I want to put in my two-cents here.

How do Asians reconcile the discrepancies of the public images that “natives” create and those created by Asian-Americans? How should someone like Judge Ito who was born and raised here, who speaks perfect English, deal with the media image that a typical Japanese foreign exchange student creates and is perpetuated by actors like Gedde Watanabe in Sixteen Candles? How do you deal with the stereotypical image of Chinese being dirty, greasy, and rude? If these are images created by the natives or the “fresh-off-boats”, and have nothing to do with the generations who were born and raised here?

I was a Japanese foreign exchange student at a high school in California guilty of contributing to the image of Long Duk Dong. The second generation Japanese people hated me and ignored me. I don’t blame them. Why should they have to suffer from the images that people like me create? But this is an unfortunate schism when both sides have much to offer to each other.

Personally, I stay neutral. In a way, I have to, since I was on both sides at different points in my life. When I hear news like Virgin Airlines canceling Upper Class on-board masseuse for all flights going to Japan since too many Japanese businessmen ask them to massage their private parts, part of me feels ashamed and angry, and part of me thinks it’s funny.

I’ve been seriously ill for a while (it’s getting better now), and from this recent experience I learned the essential difference between Eastern (Chinese) and Western medicine. I have respect for both. The fundamental difference is that the West attacks the negative, whereas the East fortifies the positive. The West kills viruses, for instance, whereas the East strengthens our own immune system. Both are effective in their own ways. Western medicine is very effective when you know what the exact cause of the illness is, but without this knowledge, it is often helpless, which is what happened to me. It’s like a detective without a suspect or a criminal. The Eastern medicine does not have to identify the criminal. It’s like strengthening the economy to lower the crime rate.

I think this philosophical difference applies to everything in our lives. Since I am an Asian, I’m naturally inclined towards fortifying the positive, instead of negating the negative. I believe that by doing what one does the best, whether it is baking, singing, designing, acting, teaching, writing, whether you are a lawyer, a banker, a doctor, an engineer or a programmer, as long as you are positively contributing to the world, you are helping to fight the negative. That is, without dealing with it directly. I think the important thing here is to be forgiving and accepting of negative images caused by others if they have no bad intentions, and to be contributing to the positive images regardless of the amount of contribution. After all, not everyone can be a Chow Yun-Fat.

Every culture, when it adapts foreign cultures, adds its own flavors to them. This not only applies to Japanese rap music, but also to restaurants and cafes. We do it here too. Typical American pizza is nothing like the original from Italy. An interesting phenomenon that I noticed when I was in Rome a year ago, was that Italians reverse-imported the American style of Pizzeria. I suppose it came out of the expectation of the tourists. Likewise, I have been noticing here in New York reverse-import cafes from Asia. The first one that I noticed was Panya on Stuyvesant Street. It is a Japanese bakery/cafe that offers among other things: Japanese style white bread, sandwich with a single slice of bologna, and impeccably uniform and geometric sweet pastries. Then we have Saint’s Alp Teahouse that first appeared in China Town and now spreading elsewhere. Basta Pasta is a Japanese style pasta restaurant which is famous for its fish row spaghetti. “Reverse-Import” in my definition is when a piece of culture exported comes back home with a few twists from abroad. Note: San Francisco style burrito, for instance, is not a reverse import, unless it is brought back to Mexico to be served.

One of the new comers in this genre is East Pearl Cafe on St. Marks Place (Between Avenue A and First, pictured above). They serve a large variety of teas in tall glasses typically used for ice cream floats, hot or cold, with or without Tapioca. I’m not sure of the history of these concoctions but are obviously results of Western and Eastern fusion. Hot teas are served in large mugs with Cappuccino style foam on top. A toast with peanut butter, strawberry jam, butter & condensed milk, or hazelnut & cocoa is served on a piece of perfectly geometric, over-sized, white bread typically seen in Asia. The decor of these cafes is just as much of a product of reverse-importing aswhat they serve, dominantly Western feel with an infusion of cutesy modern Asian culture. Interestingly they also serve Japanese style Chinese food. The Japanese have adapted Chinese food in their own ways. Ramen noodle for instance is a Japanese interpretation of Lo Mein in broth, but it evolved to the point where it became a genre of its own. Fried rice at East Pearl is a very authentic Japanese style fried rice, subtle but distinct. Only the native Japanese may notice the difference like the use of short grain rice instead of more common long grain.

In order to fully enjoy this type of cafes or restaurants, one needs to see them in this perspective, that is, they were exported, altered, and imported back. Only then would you fully appreciate the meaning of what you are seeing on your table, that is, how one culture transforms another. What you don’t want to do is to see them simply as Asian cafe owners trying to pass as Italians. It is a distinctly different statement that they are trying to make here.

After years philandering Bai-Kues abroad, I, Ms. Wu, finally made the long overdue visit to the Middle Kingdom of Shanghai, China.

I arrived incognito. Someone such as myself cannot simply show up to this land of repression and not cause a rise of national (and physical) proportions. Ah, Shanghai, the Paris of the Orient, the Whore of the East, my first love…and I discovered, no longer my roots, my home.

Yes, alas, ’tis true. Shanghai was no longer. No longer were the decadence, the frivolity, and the bacchanalian debauchery. The heydays of head throwing (and giving) laughter of gargantuan scale is now considered pass in favor of economic advancement and high rise buildings architected in the most atrocious fashion imaginable. In the name of national progress and advancement for the People, whom as far as my travel companion and I could detect, were far too involved in spitting and other forms of behavior reserved for the confines of a water closet to understand the meaning of an open, democratic country.

I felt quite ashamed. It was the first time my travel companion visited this country that I have so often brandished about like a dazzling jewel. He, a daring adventurer and ravisher of women, remained the perfect gentleman in the barrage of bodily fluids issuing from multiple directions, and further more, in the face of blatant stares from local people his equanimity was as constant as his relentless appetite for nocturnal pleasures.

Considering Shanghai’s infamous history of cross-cultural influences from the British, French, and even Russian, I was frankly quite aghast at the close-mindedness of the people when it came to interracial relationships. Mind you, I am quite accustomed to being stared at all my life, but this type of staring felt accusatory, implicating, and communist. It was then that I realized I was in a communist country. Capitalistic ideals may have been integrated in the economic relationships with China, and certain democratic values such as multiple ownership of property do circulate in the government and economic sectors, but communism in China is far from dead.

What is left manifests itself in the people’s mentality. What is communism but an enthusiastic participation in a communal social structure that places the Common Good over individual desire? As the antithesis of consumer culture where the distance between desire and attainment is short and easily breached, it is no wonder that interracial couples are stared at like curios in China. As symbols of the freedom to make individual decisions, they exemplify in a way the dream of capitalism, the quintessence of the best ideals of consumer culture.

My journey to the East was long. But not nearly as long as distance between the Chinese government and the People’s ability to understand and embrace capitalism and democracy.

Until next time I bid you zai-jian.
Ms. Wu