Base Orientation and Intercultural Relations

Our first weekend here in Japan went pretty quickly. We tootled around base a little bit, took advantage of Soft Bank mobile phone company’s current special and got free iPhones with a two-year agreement, and attended mass at the base chapel.

Monday morning we woke up as we had every day since getting here; before our alarm went off. Between the sun rising at 4:00 am and the national anthems (American and Japanese) blasting over loud speakers it’s difficult to sleep in.

By 8:30 we were in the classroom ready to begin the first day of our weeklong Area Orientation Briefing and Intercultural Relations Classes (AOB and ICR—love those military acronyms). The first day was pretty boring: reps from the different departments/organizations on base were paraded through to give us the basics. One of the more memorable presenters was a Mr. Puckett from the environmental office who told colorful anecdotes to illustrate some dos and don’ts of base living. The “don’t” category included a story about a woman living in one of the apartment towers on base who put her cat’s solid waste down her garbage disposal, much to the disgust of her neighbors. Mr. Puckett also informed us—a little too nonchalantly for my taste—that asbestos was used in buildings on base as recently as 2001, thus we should contact him before doing any drilling in the walls and such. Uh…can somebody get me the number for that mesothelioma lawyer?

The rest of the week consisted of Intercultural Relations classes and were alternately taught by Yuji-san (a cheerful man probably in his forties who had been working on base in some capacity for 20 years), and Naoko-san (an attractive young woman who also worked her way up from McDonald’s cashier in the base food court to ICR instructor). As one might imagine, a good portion of ICR is focused on arming Americans with information that allows us to live among the Japanese and not make asses of ourselves…too often. With only 3% of Japan’s population consisting of non-Japanese, and only 1.5% of that consisting of Westerners/Caucasians, there’s really no hope of blending in. So the best we can do is adhere to local customs and behaviors.

One of the first things Yuji-san and Naoko-san explained to us is that Japanese people may appear at first to be unfriendly or standoffish. If you pass a stranger on the street and smile or say hello, you will likely be ignored. While Americans see this as unfriendly, Japanese see it as a sign of respect. On such a heavily populated island—128 million people in an area the size of California and 35 million people in the greater Tokyo area alone—privacy is golden. It’s considered respectful to keep to yourself as much as possible.

That being said, Japanese people are extremely helpful. With a simple “sumimasen” (excuse me), you can easily find someone willing to stop and help you find the right train, a toilet or the best beef bowl joint in the area. This is especially true if you make even the most pathetic effort at speaking Japanese. Yuji-san—who speaks near perfect English—assured the class many times that Japanese folks love it when we make an attempt to learn and use their language.

Speaking of language, I am doing a superb job of being Kyle’s translator. Before you become too impressed with my Japanese speaking and listening skills, I should note that I’m not really translating Japanese into English for him. I’m translating English spoken with a heavy Japanese accent for him. Many of the civilian employees in the various offices and businesses on base are Japanese nationals, some of whom have pretty heavy accents. I seem to be able to understand them better than Kyle, but I’m confident his ears will adjust eventually.

We’ve both been able to practice our limited Japanese vocabulary in various situations with Japanese nationals on base, but the most extensive interaction occurred on the train ride into Tokyo. The “field trip” was part of our ICR class. The entire class took a bus from base to a nearby station where Yuji-san showed us how to purchase the PASMO (reloadable train/bus pass) and figure out the train lines. After a couple stops, we broke into smaller groups and began the “unguided” portion of the field trip.

Kyle and I paired up with a couple of young helo pilots, Jake and Chris. Once on the train, Kyle and I took our seats and began studying our pocket Japanese phrase sheet we’d gotten in class. An older woman sitting next to Kyle noticed and began speaking to us. We muddled through the phrases we knew and she helped us with our pronunciation, chuckling with her as we botched some words. We asked (in Japanese) if she spoke English and she responded “minus, minus, minus,” while holding her thumb and index fingers close together. She seemed impressed with our pronunciation for the most part. This was not surprising considering that Yuji-san and Naoko-san commented how well Americans pronounce Japanese, even when first learning the language. They told us that Japanese people marvel at how “flexible” Americans’ tongues are, specifically citing the letters R and L, since they don’t have these sounds in their language. Similarly, the F, V and TH sounds (or biting lip and tongue sounds as Yuji-san put it) don’t exist in Japanese so Mount Fuji is actually pronounced Mount “uji.” Now you know.

Back to the cultural differences, several things stuck out in my mind. Let’s start with Kyle’s favorite. The practice of tipping for services rendered never made it to Japan. Kyle loves this. Our instructors ensured us that if we left money on the table in a restaurant, they would run after us to give it back.

A couple of differences Kyle’s not so keen on also occur in a restaurant setting. The big kicker for Kyle is the size of the water (mizu) glasses. Tequila shots at El Maguey are bigger than these things…or so I’ve heard. In addition, once your order has been taken and food served, you probably won’t see your server again for a while. They see it as rude to interrupt your meal by asking if you need anything. So, the shot-sized H2O and infrequent visits by the server has resulted in Kyle perfecting the phrase, “Sumimasen. Mizu wo kudasai. Domo arigato gozaimasu.” “Excuse me. Water please. Thank you very much.” We won’t talk about the one time he accidentally said, “gracias.”

Before anyone asks, I’m going to wait to write extensively about the food until we have a few more “authentic” experiences under our belt. Needless to say, the food is infinitely better than the last Asian dining experience we had in Pensacola at Jin-Jin 38. This place is apparently named for the family who owns it and the number of ways it can give you diarrhea.

In ICR they talked about different stages of culture shock. For the most part, we’re definitely in the initial honeymoon phase. Things are still new and exciting and we’re easily able to laugh at our faux pas. I suspect eventually we’ll experience more frustration as we continue to venture off base—especially driving off base. Yikes…Until then, we’ll enjoy the honeymoon.



Top Left: Kyle blends in well among the Asians in Yoyogi Park. Those are sake barrels.
Bottom Left: More sake barrels in Yoyogi Park.
Top Right: A busy Tokyo intersection.
Bottom Right: My "tour guides" look lost.