Busted Trip

Today I was going to explore Tokyo’s next-door neighbor, the nearby city of Chiba. Having never been to the area except to visit the Disney Sea theme park, I was excited to go exploring. Chiba is a good 30 – 40 minute train ride outside of Tokyo, so you can imagine how disappointed I was when it started storming rain. Below are the few pictures I was able to snap before the streets were turned into a giant Slip ‘N Slide.

The torrential storm hit hard and fast while I was looking around in a department store. Once I exited back onto the street, thunder and lightning was striking every minute or so, and I was almost immediately soaked. I had no choice but to turn around for home. Even with my quick umbrella work, I was sufficiently drenched by the time I got to the station. An elderly Japanese lady exiting the ticket gate took one look at me and said, “So, it’s raining?” I grunted an affirmation.

Since I was only in Chiba for around an hour at best, I basically paid for a train ride, which wasn’t entirely a waste, since I always enjoy looking at the scenery whizzing by. On the return trip, two American brothers sat in the seat adjacent to mine. They had obviously just arrived from the airport and were being escorted by a Japanese woman who spoke English. Needless to say, I completely eavesdropped on their conversation the entire ride back. It was wonderful entertainment! I had to bite my lip not to burst out with my own commentary. It was a challenge.

I have to give the Japanese lady props for answering all of their questions and explaining stuff in English to the best of her ability. The three discussed a multitude of things, such as the older brother’s hatred of Japanese food. This was prompted by the Japanese woman suggesting that the three eat okonomiyaki (Japanese style pancake thingy) for dinner. The older brother immediately said that seaweed was the most disgusting thing he had ever tasted, worse than sour kraut.

The older brother had heard that Japanese people don’t like foreigners and call them “gaijin.” He said that he’d be ready to fight a Japanese person if they kept hassling him and calling him “gaijin.” Both boys wanted to go to Akihabara, and both said they had heard that Shinjuku is a very dangerous place.

Listening to their conversation, I was struck by both the necessity and inherent challenges of serving as a travel guide or business liaison. If you’re knowledgeable and patient, like the English speaking Japanese woman was, you will likely be able to dispel a lot of the misinformation that travelers may carry, while guiding them towards unique and memorable experiences.

However, I imagine that it is also necessary to keep a certain portion of your true personality locked away, in order to stay objective enough to deal with foreign clients who may be impatient or unappreciative of what you are trying to show them.

While any traveler is entitled to their own opinion, I wonder what the Japanese woman really thought when her kindhearted dinner suggestion was casually brushed aside with a, “does that have seaweed in it? Seaweed is the most disgusting thing I’ve ever tasted!” Maybe she didn’t have any problem with his response. I did.

I wanted to ask the older brother whether he thought that perhaps it is automatic rejections and close-minded sentiments like his that help perpetuate this whole "gaijin" stereotype.

Like he said, there isn't a Japanese person alive who likes a "gaijin!"

B.E.W.