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文化の違いを越えて
雅子さんのもとには読者からたくさんの電子メールが届きます。電子メールでのやりとりで見知らぬ人と心が通じ合うことも多いのですが、ときには、困った内容のものもあるようです…。
Across the Cultural Divide
By MASAKO YAMADA
Many of the people whom I correspond via e-mail are people with whom I can't interact in "real life." With some people, this is because we live so far away from each other, we can't arrange actual meetings. We'd much prefer getting together in person, but e-mail serves as an imperfect substitute in the interim. With other people, though, e-mail is our primary link, and we probably will never have a real life relationship that is closer than the one that we have on-line.
Because I think I am a better writer than a speaker, I like using prose to express myself. I get a lot of mail from strangers because of this job, and one of the most frequent comments I get is, "Even though I've never met you, I think of you as a friend." Sometimes, the letters I've exchanged with my readers seem more vivid than even the most honest conversations I've had with my best friends. I've gotten queries on topics ranging from "Which should I choose: Wellesley or Yale?" to "How should I approach an international marriage?"
This is, of course, very flattering to me and it creates a warm feeling in my heart, but sometimes, I wonder whether this closeness is just an illusion. This week, I received a message from an e-mail friend that disturbed me greatly and I have spent a good deal of time trying to find a good way to respond. This reader is a middle-aged Japanese man whom I've met a number of times in Boston because he's doing research as a visiting scholar at Harvard. I was telling him about my short trip to D.C. and about the silly little "Cherry Blossom Festival" that I attended. I told him that I thought the event was "manuke." He gave me a lengthy, polite and roundabout reply on the "spirit of the Japanese." He wrote that I didn't seem to understand what being a "proper citizen" entailed because I'd grown up in the States.
I don't know if I'm just being young and disrespectful, or if I'm just being "a normal American," but this speech infuriated me. I certainly think I understand the beauty of a cherry blossom, but even if I didn't, I don't think that would make me any less authentic a Japanese. More importantly, however, I realized that whether or not I was considered a true Japanese by him, or any other "true Japanese," I didn't care. Maybe he's considered elite by Japanese standards, maybe he's older than I am, but he doesn't know as much about international relations as I do. It's pretty obvious that I'm not a "true Japanese" in the textbook sense: I've never been, and I'll never be. However, I can rest assured that there are plenty of people who take me as I am ― who, indeed, appreciate me for what I can contribute ― and this matters much more to me.
I've performed my "duties" as a Japanese ambassador to the States ― it's inevitable that I be considered a representative of the country, whether I like it or not ― for my entire life, but this is more through my day-to-day conduct than through anything else. I know that "cultural exchange" rarely occurs at festivals. I've participated in such festivals since I was a child. The PTA moms, diplomats' wives and student volunteers work very hard to coordinate the events (I usually think it's fun), but selling origami and yakitori in little stalls is easy. It's much easier than making new friends in a new culture. If nothing else, I can say that I am one of the most borderless people that I know. I know that I will find my way, somehow, someday, be it in the States, or Japan or some other country that I may yet come to know and embrace. I need people in my life, to be sure. I want their guidance, their affirmation, their understanding and their love. I also want to share my trivia, my jokes, my insight and my affection. I realize that for human interaction to be meaningful, however, there must be a fundamental spirit of generosity. I'm making some mighty highfalutin statements on the basis of one careless remark, but I think it's such "carelessness" ― it's not even good-humored, funny carelessness ― that creates deep rifts in what many people have struggled to create.
I don't need people to tell me who I am . and I needn't reply to those who do.
Many of the people whom I correspond via e-mail are people with whom I can't interact in "real life." With some people, this is because we live so far away from each other, we can't arrange actual meetings. We'd much prefer getting together in person, but e-mail serves as an imperfect substitute in the interim. With other people, though, e-mail is our primary link, and we probably will never have a real life relationship that is closer than the one that we have on-line.
Because I think I am a better writer than a speaker, I like using prose to express myself. I get a lot of mail from strangers because of this job, and one of the most frequent comments I get is, "Even though I've never met you, I think of you as a friend." Sometimes, the letters I've exchanged with my readers seem more vivid than even the most honest conversations I've had with my best friends. I've gotten queries on topics ranging from "Which should I choose: Wellesley or Yale?" to "How should I approach an international marriage?"
This is, of course, very flattering to me and it creates a warm feeling in my heart, but sometimes, I wonder whether this closeness is just an illusion. This week, I received a message from an e-mail friend that disturbed me greatly and I have spent a good deal of time trying to find a good way to respond. This reader is a middle-aged Japanese man whom I've met a number of times in Boston because he's doing research as a visiting scholar at Harvard. I was telling him about my short trip to D.C. and about the silly little "Cherry Blossom Festival" that I attended. I told him that I thought the event was "manuke." He gave me a lengthy, polite and roundabout reply on the "spirit of the Japanese." He wrote that I didn't seem to understand what being a "proper citizen" entailed because I'd grown up in the States.
I don't know if I'm just being young and disrespectful, or if I'm just being "a normal American," but this speech infuriated me. I certainly think I understand the beauty of a cherry blossom, but even if I didn't, I don't think that would make me any less authentic a Japanese. More importantly, however, I realized that whether or not I was considered a true Japanese by him, or any other "true Japanese," I didn't care. Maybe he's considered elite by Japanese standards, maybe he's older than I am, but he doesn't know as much about international relations as I do. It's pretty obvious that I'm not a "true Japanese" in the textbook sense: I've never been, and I'll never be. However, I can rest assured that there are plenty of people who take me as I am ― who, indeed, appreciate me for what I can contribute ― and this matters much more to me.
I've performed my "duties" as a Japanese ambassador to the States ― it's inevitable that I be considered a representative of the country, whether I like it or not ― for my entire life, but this is more through my day-to-day conduct than through anything else. I know that "cultural exchange" rarely occurs at festivals. I've participated in such festivals since I was a child. The PTA moms, diplomats' wives and student volunteers work very hard to coordinate the events (I usually think it's fun), but selling origami and yakitori in little stalls is easy. It's much easier than making new friends in a new culture. If nothing else, I can say that I am one of the most borderless people that I know. I know that I will find my way, somehow, someday, be it in the States, or Japan or some other country that I may yet come to know and embrace. I need people in my life, to be sure. I want their guidance, their affirmation, their understanding and their love. I also want to share my trivia, my jokes, my insight and my affection. I realize that for human interaction to be meaningful, however, there must be a fundamental spirit of generosity. I'm making some mighty highfalutin statements on the basis of one careless remark, but I think it's such "carelessness" ― it's not even good-humored, funny carelessness ― that creates deep rifts in what many people have struggled to create.
I don't need people to tell me who I am . and I needn't reply to those who do.
Shukan ST: May 9, 1997
(C) All rights reserved
- divide
- 分かれ目
- correspond via e-mail
- 電子メールで通信する
- interact
- 交流する
- (would)much prefer getting together in person
- 直接会う方がずっといい
- imperfect substitute
- 完全でない代替物
- in the interim
- 当座の
- primary link
- 主なつながり
- on-line
- コンピューターを通じて
- am a better writer than a speaker
- 話すより書く方が得意である。
- prose
- 文章
- frequent comments
- よくあるコメント
- vivid
- 新鮮な
- queries
- 質問
- Wellesley
- ウェルズリー大学(筆者の出身校)
- flattering
- よろこばしい
- closeness
- 親近感
- illusion
- 幻影
- disturbed
- 当惑させた
- a good deal of 〜
- かなりの 〜
- middle-aged
- 中年の
- a number of times
- 何回も
- visiting scholar
- 客員教授
- silly
- ばかげた
- Cherry Blossom Festival
- さくら祭り(先日、雅子さんがワシントンを訪れたときに開催されていた祭り)
- lengthy
- 長い
- roundabout
- まわりくどい
- what being a "proper citizen" entailed
- 「ちゃんとした市民」であるというのはどういうことか
- disrespectful
- 失礼な
- infuriated
- 怒らせた
- I don't think that would make me any less authentic a Japanese
- そのことで私の本当の日本人らしさが少しでも減るとは思わない
- international relations
- 国際関係
- obvious
- 明らかな
- in the textbook sense
- 模範的という意味では
- rest assured
- 安心する
- appreciate 〜 for what I can contribute
- 〜 が提供するものを理解し、よいと思ってくれる
- this matters much more to me
- このことのほうが私には重要である
- duties
- 義務
- ambassador
- 大使
- inevitable
- 不可避な
- representative
- 代表
- for my entire life
- 生まれてこのかた
- day-to-day conduct
- 日ごろの行ない
- cultural exchange
- 文化交流
- diplomats'
- 外交官の
- coordinate
- 取り行なう
- little stalls
- 屋台
- embrace
- 取り組む
- to be sure
- 確かに
- affirmation
- 承認
- trivia
- 些細なこと
- insight
- 内面
- affection
- 愛情
- interaction
- 相互影響
- fundamental spirit of generosity
- 根本的な心の広さ
- mighty
- ひどく
- highfalutin
- もったいぶった
- on the basis of 〜
- 〜 に基づいて
- careless remark
- 不注意な意見
- it's not even good-humored, funny carelessness
- 笑えるような不注意ではない
- creates deep rifts in what many people have struggled to create
- 多くの人々が苦労して作り上げてきたものに深い溝を作る