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Turning Japanese

No, this entry isn't about the Vapors' song nor is it about the song's supposed insinuated act. This entry is just my musings on being Japanese, or more generally, Asian, be it Japanese, Chinese, Korean, or any other far Eastern nationality.

Why is it that in the movies, Japanese men and women seem so incredibly dignified and desirable? Americans and Europeans seem so intensely awkward, noisy, greedy, and inept next to the elegant and esoteric Asian characters. I just watched the Last Samurai again. Tom Cruise looks like such a crass dork next to all the quiet and august Japanese villagers he lives with - until he starts turning Japanese - wearing his hair all Samurai, putting on the silk robe, twirling a polished stick, meditating and remembering to take off his muddy shoes when entering the pristine little Japanese houses. Only when he began to emulate all the virtuous habits of his fellow villagers did we the audience start feeling any empathy or admiration toward his character.

Maybe it's the futons. I mean, most people have slept on futons, right? It's like padded wood under your back. No springs, no fluff. This could contribute to the discipline of the Japanese - having to sleep on a hard surface such as a futon. Maybe it's the rice paper walls. You've seen them right? One can see through them, hear through them, and fall through them if one wasn't careful. Those walls must encourage quiet, focus and discipline. It could be the food, too. Eating steamed veggies with minimal amount of meat, usually fish, must keep the body upright and demure. Making intricate presentations of meals, using chop sticks, tiny tea cups, etcetera is all very practiced, very deliberate.

I wish I were so beautiful and delicate as the Asian women I see in movies and read about in literature. Even the uber bitchy Hatsumomo from "Memoirs of a Geisha" was a fragile butterfly compared to me.

I know I'm probably being a bigot by assuming that the stereotypes in movies and books are true. For all I know, the average Japanese or Chinese household has sheetrock walls and sleeps on memory foam instead of rice paper and futons. For all I know, they are eating spaghetti with plastic forks and knives instead of sushi with chopsticks. For all I know, their children run through the house colliding with every third object they encounter, the women are sneaking ciggies behind the porch between loads of laundry, and pet hair gathers in little balls under their loveseats.

But it's nice to imagine that they are like the beautiful Asian characters I see in movies, and that their gentle discipline and understatement is something I can aspire to.

Posted by Bullyland at 09:53 AM | Comments (10)