They say that the normal reaction to someone smiling at you is to smile back. But I’m living in rural Japan and nothing about my daily life here is normal by western standards.
So two Fridays ago when I exited the convenience store and saw a Japanese woman walking briskly towards me with a broad smile on her face, teeth showing mind you, I met her smile with a look of shock and bewilderment.
Subconsciously, I began to calculate the number of steps to my car, where I could retreat quickly from this obviously deranged person who had the gall to approach a foreigner, and a black person no less.
To put this ‘situation’ into context, I am obliged to give a snippet of what life is like for me, a black woman living in what we Jamaicans call ‘country’. Except this is country like you’ve never seen before. Have you seen the movie ‘Gods Must Be Crazy’? Only in this case I’m the Coke bottle that fell from the sky. And even after I’ve lived among them for a year, the locals are still trying to figure out where this alien entity came from. What does it eat? Does it breathe air like us? Why doesn’t it use chopsticks? And can we pet its curly hair?
At the supermarket, in traffic, at the mall, whenever I’m outside really, I’m met with long, curious stares. Rarely does anyone say hello. They just stare, with a questioning look on their faces, as if to say “what the hell is she doing here?”
Imagine my surprise then when this unknown woman walked up to me out of the blue. I had noticed her sitting in a car beside mine when I parked. But I didn’t recognize her as one of my colleagues from the three schools that I work. And I definitely hadn’t seen her at the adult English class that I teach twice a month.
I quickened my pace to the car but her voice stopped me in my tracks. “Hello!” She said, waving frantically. The first words out of my mouth were an apology for what I knew was an amplified puzzled look on my face. “I’m just very surprised to have someone coming up to me and speaking in English,” I stuttered.
She introduced herself. “I’m from Jehovah’s Witness. May I talk to you?”
Of course! That explains it! Only a fearless JW will cross a treacherous ravine, walk on burning coals, and break the taboo to approach a (black) foreigner to talk about the Bible.
We talked for a bit. I declined the offer for a home Bible study but promised that I would read books in English if they were delivered to my door. Inside, I fought the urge to invade this woman’s personal space with an extended hug to say thank you for talking to me in a place where no one ever does. I wanted to invite her over for a cup of that insufferable green tea and rice cakes, while we chat in broken English about whatever she wanted to talk about, including Jehovah.
But I didn’t want to lead her on. I’ve never been open to JW doctrine whether at home or abroad. As I bade her adieu, I felt a deep appreciation for the courage it must have took for her to break deeply embedded social norms. Of course, not everywhere in Japan is like this – you know – foreigner averse. But certain behaviours are much more profound in the rural areas where most of the population is elderly and the traditional way of doing things are not only important, it’s insisted upon.
Change is slow in these parts, but Miss JW is a rare sign of a gradual shift in the tide, coerced and lethargic though it may be.