Essay

Thank you and goodbye

By Matt Wilce

For the expat community, summer is a season of goodbyes. By June, you can pretty much bet that someone you know has announced they will be saying "sayonara'' to Tokyo. And they're not just leaving to escape the oppressive August heat.

This year, with the subprime financial crisis and skyrocketing oil prices, many of the city's foreign business community are facing moves — be they local or international. As the end of the international school year approaches, the sayonara parties begin to stack up and with them the dilemma of what to buy as a sayonara gift.

If they're leaving Japan, then something to remember their posting here seems to be the thing to do. But be careful, you don't want to be the third person to give them the Louis Vuitton Tokyo travel notebook. You also don't want to be the thoughtless person who presents a stone lantern mere days after their household shipment has headed to Narita.

Likewise, if you're the one leaving, the whole sayonara gift experience can be fraught with potholes. Dropping subtle hints to friends about the gaps in your collection of Japanese artifacts and steering them clear of the Sanrio Puroland store can sap your strength during rainy season. And then there's the job of actually accepting your gift gracefully.

On one occasion, I thought I had it all figured out. Many years ago, I was leaving a school in Toyama to move back to Tokyo and had been asked by the faculty what I'd like for my sayonara present. Thinking I might be leaving Japan for good soon after, I asked for a hanging scroll by a local artist and a traditional folding fan. Suitably impressed, the vice principal dispatched a minion to do the shopping, and come the final assembly of the semester, two wooden boxes were sat on the podium on stage.

After the usual tortuous series of announcements, and much wriggling from the junior high school students standing in the humid gym, we got to the presentation. Turning red from the heat and nerves, I made my way on stage and accepted the two gifts from the principal. Having made a suitably respectful deep bow to him, I proceeded in my best Japanese to thank the students and faculty for a wonderful two years. In my slightly flustered state, I also managed to say, "Thank you for the lovely fig and a very nice war!"

Never again will I mistake a fig (ichijiku) for a kakejiku (hanging calligraphy scroll) nor will I mix up sensu (fan) and senso (war). Now, when I have to make a sayonara speech, I make sure I practice first.

Shukan ST: June 27, 2008

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