Opinion Counter counter culture shock strikes again By Matthew A. Thorn	フレームで見る  英文をプリントする  脚注をプリントする
三重のカルチャーショックを体験 外国に住んでもその国の文化に関心を持たないのは、貴重な経験をする機会を失うことに等しい。異文化との接触は自分を成長させる糧になるからだ。

Everyone expects to experience culture shock when they visit a different country for the first time. What people usually don't expect is what's called "counter culture shock." Counter culture shock is what we experience when we return to our home society after a long absence, and find that things we once took for granted now seem very odd. We have absorbed, to some extent, the values of our host society, and now see our own society with new eyes. Moving back to the United States last year after several years of living in Kyoto was a jolt, and this week, having moved back to Kyoto, I'm experiencing "counter counter culture shock." Here are some random impressions:

On the whole, Japanese people put more effort into their appearance than do Americans (who seem to think they're dressed up if they wear a shirt with buttons), but a lot of that effort seems misplaced: overly permed hair, too much makeup, leopard spots, sequins and rhinestones, and enough Gucci and Louis Vuitton handbags to smother a stable of sumo wrestlers. In some ways, Japanese seem more heterogeneous in their appearance than Americans, despite stereotypes to the contrary, but it's a bit jarring after a year of American dowdiness.

Cellphone technology - and style - continues to maintain at least a three-year lead on America. A list of features (built-in cameras are now standard, and many cellphones now let users see each other while they speak) does not do justice to this gap, because it's more about "cool" than about technology per se. Japanese cellphones are works of art, not little gray boxes that let you talk to people in different places. In fact, Japanese use their cellphones more for e-mail and and other services than for talking to people. Indeed, as I type this, in a Starbucks in Senri, two young women sitting nearby are typing e-mail on their cellphones with that miraculous one-thumb technique that I can never hope to master.

This is a beautiful country, yet much of the landscape is marred by ugly architecture. Great, beige boxes are erected and then allowed to deteriorate and become covered in soot. Nine out of 10 public schools are that way, which may help to explain why these schools seem better at producing juvenile delinquents than happy, well-adjusted adults.

Service is much better in Japan than in the United States, where friendliness is often mistaken for good service. Although Japanese complain about the poor attitudes of young workers today, almost everyone seems to approach their work with a certain pride and a desire to do well.

None of these things are new to me: I notice them every time I come back to Japan. Yet each time I am reminded of them again, and the reminder is a visceral shock. But some people's worldviews seem impervious to this. I'ｖe met plenty of foreigners who have lived in Japan for years without learning the language, and without ever leaving the cocoon of the "ex-pat" community. I'ｖe also met many Japanese who live in the United States without ever truly engaging in American culture. What a waste of a priceless opportunity: the opportunity to be shocked, and in being shocked, to grow.

Shukan ST: Sept. 24, 2004

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