Japanese Friendliness

I have been amazed at how friendly people are here. I guess I was expecting the sort of treatment I received in Europe or the way we treat foreigners in the states. These people go way beyond that to make foreigners feel welcome.

On Miyajima island I met an older man traveling with his son. He was curious how an American had heard about the island and the floating shrine. His name was Dr. Kenji Sugai, a doctor of pathology. He sat down next to me on the stone bench and watched the sunrise on Itsukushima Shrine and chatted about all kinds of things. What a nice old man. He asked if he could take a picture with me and mail it to me. He wrote down my address and gave me a business card. Or its a situation like the movie "Hostel." haha So Mom you might be getting a photo in the mail from some doctor in Japan...

I have been here less than a week and the number of stories of helpful people is too many to list in a single blog. Simply amazing. I hope that we, that I, can be this helpful and welcoming to foreigners when we encounter them at home. To help them with directions. or food. or simply have a conversation with them.

As I was waiting at the ferry station some children nervously approached me. I could tell they wanted to talk to me but they were nervous. They kept shoving each other in the back saying, "No, you go talk to him." I could see their mothers in the background encouraging them. They had a homework assignment to talk with an americanjin and write down the responses. One by one they would say "Hi, my name is ______. What is your name? Where are you from?" They would struggle, then ask me to write it for them and then scamper off in bliss at having completed the assignment.

What a proactive educational choice these people make. I am reminded of back home where we complain about things being in Spanish and how people should speak the English because its national language. How stagnate we have become in our perceived leadership of the world.

Or when I got lost in Hiroshima, a woman came out of her house and asked me if I was looking for the hostel. With a clueless look on my face and a backpack on my hind side she already knew the answer. She offered to walk me their personally. She had lived in Minnesota for a while and wanted to ask about the Minneapolis bridge disaster.