Some of the best times in Japan come from those little moments of confusion

After all these years in Japan, and living in the same area for many of them, we gratefully feel we're part of the local community in many ways but know we'll always have the enjoyment of hilarious communication breakdowns on a fairly regular basis. And last week was something of a classic when we were invited to friends' for dinner. And yes, there's a language barrier for me but with patience all around, we can usually work anything out.

So sitting around the table, a few glasses of wine had been quaffed, and the host asked about a friend of mine she's met at our house many years ago. It took a little while but, with the excitement levels building, I realised who they were talking about. A good friend with a wicked sense of humour (last year he spotted us enjoying our sons birthday dinner in a restaurant in Akasaka, central Tokyo. With a loud flourish of "sorry I'm late" he bounced down, much to our son's surprise and joined us for a couple of glasses of a fine wine, but I digress...)

So we're having dinner last week, and we figure out who our friends were referring to, and they said they'd love to meet him again. It'd only been ten years. So, my wife, phone in hand, looked up his number and called him. The answer came with a deathly silence until I spoke and the voice screamed "Oh God, I thought you were dead!". We let him down gently and explained he'd come up in conversation and our neighbours would enjoy seeing him again though I must admit to still being a little confused by the deathly reference. But by now, our friends only understood the word "dead" and thought it was someone else breaking the bad news about my friend instead of me.

Long story short, he'd seen my wife's phone number calling him and seeing this, quite reasonably, formed the conclusion that she was carrying bad news. With the call being a liberal blend of Japanese and English, and only partly audible as it wasn't on speaker, there was panic all around until everyone saw (and heard) me crying laughing as I'd realised what had happened. He'd thought I was dead and they, in turn, thought he was dead. Anyway, I'm fine, my friend of the phone is fine and a very kind invitation has been extended from our friends, who were rather glad he wasn't deceased, after all. 

I'm looking forward to the reunion dinner at some point in the future, though I may be a little more diligent in advance this time around and confirm no one has shuffled off this mortal coil. And then we can sit, eat, relax and return to the shochu. Unless, of course, someone else actually dies in the meantime...

Change just one life; that's all it takes

Arriving in Japan can happen in a number of ways, many somewhat out of your own control. The most common approach obviously is to be born here, something in which most are both blissfully unaware and, in reality, somewhat disenfranchised. Dual nationality children from countries that allow both passports will still have until the age of twenty two to decide if they'd like to opt for one or the other; Japan isn't keen on ambiguity as it were and with international marriages running at something around 5% of the total, there are quite a few pitching up on the stork express. And then there are those who are sent here.

Expatriates (I'm deliberately excluding military here as they may be re-posted tomorrow), typically arrive for two to three years, bringing with them a specific skill set and with a clear objective ahead of them. At least that's the theory though more honoured in the breach than the observance. And many at the beginning of their careers arrive under the stewardship of the JET program to provide encouragement to young children that English really isn't as difficult as it's made out to be. Unless you really work hard at making it as complex as humanly possible.

And then there are the pioneers. Those who risk everything because of a belief. And only those who have never tried have ever truly failed. Good luck with your adventure my friend; you may not know the extent of inspiration you will pass on to those overseas looking to come to Japan or those who's lives have known nothing else than a coastline and an arrivals lounge because that parapet seems very high from down here. Change one life and your journey will have been an incredible success. Just one. That's all it takes.  

No Foreigners! - not the usual welcome from Japan

I love Japan and I choose to be guest in this country. 2020 will see the Olympics held in Tokyo, the most international of sporting events. There is nothing that compares to it except possibly the World Cup to introduce somewhere new to the world. And yesterday was not its finest hour. As my friend and I walked into a small restaurant saying "futari desu" (table for two please) we were greeted by the manager with the phrase "no foreigners" (ironically in English). Somewhat stunned we left.

When I arrived in Japan some twenty years ago this type of response was rare but not unheard of. Taxis would occasionally drive straight past me and car parks would have signs saying "no foreign cars". But today? This was a throw back to the Jurassic era (and ask a dinosaur how that went). This is not the welcome Japan normally extends but sadly is a cliche somewhat believed by the many who have not had the opportunity to visit.

Japan is a warm and welcoming country despite the best efforts of a vocal minority to portray it as a xenophobic nation. The vast majority of people have always been thoughtful, kind and friendly to me but with an Olympics comes a responsibility. During World Cup in 2002 some police forces (in)famously ordered extra-large size handcuffs for foreigners and distributed training videos to bars on how to deal with the "hooligans" who were about to arrive. Let's see if it can do better this time around. Tokyo, over to you. 

No foreigners - dinosaurs still live...