Is it Fair to Compare?

     These days, as I edge -- no, actually gallop -- ever closer to my return to Japan (for a while), I can't help but think about the differences between the Pearl of the Orient (Penang) and the Land of the Rising Sun (Japan) , not to mention the Home of the Free and the Land of the Brave (the USA).  Fundamentally, I think it's unfair to make unfavorable judgements about cultures and countries, and I hope thus far I've managed not to do that. 

        However, it does seem to me that comparisons are fair game.  I mean, how could you NOT compare?  It's in our DNA.  People compare their own offspring, all of whom they love equally. And so it is with me and these countries I have love-hate relationships with (though it's mostly love).

Store clerks on Independence Day

   Let's take, for example, privacy issues.  When I lived in Japan before, certain folks knew all there was to know about me.  They weren't nosey, but they couldn't help it.  Why?  Because when I got official mail, I had to ask a trusted Japanese person what it said.  My rule of thumb, was "If it's got any red print on it, get it translated immediately!"  Here in Penang, there's a little of that, but if I go to the office that sent me the "mystery communique," someone there can tell me what it says in English.  I am going to miss that ability to manage my own affairs in private.  AND being able to kid around with clerks and servers and actually have them laugh and tease back. I had a grand old time last summer chatting with these three youngsters about their wearing the national flag at work on Malaysia's Independence Day (August 31).

   On the other hand, here in Penang privacy is  a precious commodity.  All those societal norms and restraints I arrived here with do not apply!  Malaysians will cheerfully ask you almost anything:  "Do you rent or buy your place?  How much your rent?"  Or "Oh, new lamp, lah!  How much you pay?" or  "How many kids you got?"  I've even been asked what my husband's salary is!   The questioners aren't offended if you don't  provide a correct answer -- they just have to give it a try!

         The other day my DOCTOR, for Pete's sake, wanted to know about the cost of our "unit" when all I wanted to talk about was my medical issue.  (Although I think the doc was asking with the thought of buying a unit here.  Many of the units in our condo lie empty because they were purchased as investment properties or second homes.) 

From courtneykeepingbalance.blogspot

   That same day, for the medical check-up, I had to be weighed and measured.  For many of us, this is a procedure that we'd prefer to have done  in private and preferably with the results not announced aloud even to us. Especially to us!  But at the relatively upscale medical center I go to, the scale is right out there in the middle of a hallway, with patients awaiting their appointments on either side.  

     So when I stepped onto that old-fashioned scale where they slide the weights, a local woman sitting next to the scale about fell out of her chair, craning her neck trying to see how much I was going to weigh.  I looked her in the eye and told her to quit.  I shielded the tell-tale weights with my arms.  No embarrassed retreat from her, and the uproar got the fellow on the other side interested in what was going on.  I pouted and objected, the nurse relented, and I was allowed to go downstairs to the "Executive Health Center," where they deal with difficult foreigners like me.  (And they have the best selection of English magazines in Penang.)  

      Contrast that to Japan, where in hospitals, if they're going to do lower-pelvic stuff, they erect a cute little curtain across your midsection so you've got privacy and modesty and everybody, including you, can pretend you're somewhere else.  At hair salons they put a pristine square of gauze over your face whenever you're laid back in the chair.  Eye contact is sooo embarrassing, you know, and there's the possibility a bit of water might splash on your face otherwise.  Ladies who've been out shopping drape a small towel across the top of the open shopping bag so people can't see what they've bought.  When you buy a book, the store clerk carefully wraps your newly-purchased book so nobody can see what you're reading.  

      Next, let's take attitudes toward personal safety.  In the US, where frivolous lawsuits are a national sport, sometimes-ridiculous precautions are taken.  Witness the "zero-tolerance-for-drugs" rules in schools that get kids kicked out of school for taking an aspirin for a headache or cramps.  And don't get me started on security measures at airports! 

From freelanceflaneur.blogspot.com

    Then there's Japan, where the paternalistic mentality makes for endless-loop public announcements about riding escalators safely and standing behind the yellow line on train platforms.  Children who are taught from infancy to hand over sharp objects handle first. Japan, where the standard farewell is "Be careful."  At every single travelator at every Japanese airport, there's the never-ending "The end of the walk is ahead.  The end of the walk is ahead.  The end of the walk is ahead."  I certainly  hope so!

      It's a bit smothery at times, but how can I complain when, for twenty-odd years, my Japanese municipal government did file my taxes for me and for any citizen who presented themselves at the correct help center on the proper day during the appointed time frame, which of course I never did.  I could never read the schedule in the newspaper and showed up at will, but they kindly did my taxes for me anyway!

  This morning my Canadian friend sent me this photo of their back yard.  This made me want to    dive into our pool just because I could. While swimming my laps, I thought about how lucky I am that I can jump into the pool anytime I like, day or night (if I ignore the posted pool opening and closing times, of course.)   In the States, the pool would have a high fence around it and a padlock on the door.  In Japan, I'd be going to a fitness club or a municipal pool where they make you get out for ten minutes of every hour "for a rest."

    Well, it all makes for an interesting life and gives you a lot to ponder, doesn't it?