Addendum to night of the long march from Mitoma to Fukuma

One thing that I didn't mention in the earlier post about that earlier adventure was, at one point, I ended up walking about a hundred meters or so, and gaining, on a young Japanese lady who was walking the streets by herself, presumably headed home.

She happened to see me, did a double take at the bald gaijin following her down the street, stopped - walked across the street - and stood there watching me till I passed her by.

A gamut of brief reactions ran past - amusement mainly. Honestly, that's what any girl in any country should absolutely do if she feels uncomfortable, late at night, walking by herself, some stranger rapidly closing the distance from behind. Course I couldn't help thinking "But I'm so cuddley and non-dangerous... that was uneccessary." Which is something the young lady obviously could not know.

It reminded me of a conversation I had with Malik - at least I hope to god it was Malik, or after a few beers I accosted some strange black man and began theorizing with him - about how being a gaijin in Japan is not totally unlike being a black man in America.

There are a few similarities... women do take notice of you and consider you a bit more of a threat - I'll lay decent odds the young lady from last night might not have had as notable a reaction if I weren't a gaijin - occasionally out of the corner of my eye I'll catch a purse shift slightly away from me... I do feel the eyes on me when I go into a store. Occasionally innocuous curiousity, occasionally a bit more of a "bet he steals something" vibe. The once in a while refusal of some Japanese bars and nightclubs to deny entrance to gaijin when we've had the audacity to roam outside of our "designated" stomping grounds.

Mostly, it's amusing. To me, leastways. The funniest bit that Malik shared with me was he found that in talking to some other JETs of the caucasian variety, their sheer outrage at being considered a 2nd class citizen or being treated different because of the color of their skin... and the most humorous part, or the saddest, was these same people's sheer lack of observation or recognition of how these same little dramas play out in America with African Americans, Hispanics and other minorities...

It's good to be a member of the privileged class.