At a performance review one year ago, a certain Canadian was told that
she is “too Japanese.” In true Japanese style, her supervisor’s assessment was both
complimentary and critical; that “you are liked because you are very kind – too
kind” and that “you care about others – you care too much.” To make matters
crystal clear, her boss concluded, smiling, “I think you are very Japanese.”
So, dear readers, what do you
think?
She eats raw broccoli and the skin of her fruits.
She doesn't own a rice-cooker nor does she consider rice a breakfast
food.
She has good days and bad days where chopsticks are concerned.
She's not a fan of natto.
She
prefers water to tea.
She loves to sing karaoke.
She gets called by (not her) name by locals mistaking her for one of
the other blond foreigners in town.
She doesn't walk around the teachers’ room brushing her teeth after
lunch or clip her nails at her desk in the morning.
She doesn't own a portable electronic Japanese-English dictionary. (She
probably should.)
If there's even the slightest chance of rain or snow, she's got her
umbrella. However, she will not use it to hide from the sun.
She will go without, rather than accidentally purchase a lotion with skin-whitening agents.
She's sometimes not sure whether to bow or shake hands.
She misses chocolate milk. And cheese.
She wouldn't dream of asking for a doggy-bag.
She refuses to eat KFC on Christmas Day.
She hangs out at school considerably less than her Japanese
counterparts and constantly feels guilty. That said, she has no
intention of not taking all twenty of her paid leave days.
Her automatic impulse is apologetic.
Her default picture pose involves the peace (victory?) sign.
After a busy day bustling with people, she looks forward to coming home
to her quiet apartment, which she's never thought of as lonely because it lacks
a husband and three children under the age of six.
She’s twenty-six, not married, and not looking.
She sets a good example for her students by finishing her fish – head,
bones, and all.
She won’t eat while walking, unless she’s being a tourist in another
part of Japan
She's got the requisite sweet tooth, but misses the intensity of such
flavors as peppermint, vanilla, and root beer.
Nakedness is nothing new.
She's still a baby when it comes to reading, writing, and having a
conversation in Japanese.
When it comes to communicating, she’d rather use a written combination
of poorly conjugated hiragana and katakana than open her mouth to speak.
She understands more than she can articulate.
She doesn’t drink much at work enkais,
knowing she’ll learn so much more through sober observation.
She sometimes pushes the “flushing sound effect” button in public
washrooms – not for her own comfort, but out of consideration for others.
If you consider sugar a drug, she’s four
for seven as far as the Vapors are concerned.
