June 26, 2021

Gaijitated

Prologue
Etymology of “gaijitated”-- a portmanteau blend word formed from gaijin (meaning “outsider” or “foreigner” in Japanese) and the adjective agitated In English.

I sometimes become gaijitated. That means I get irrationally and disproportionally annoyed by a minor perceived slight that happens when I violate my host culture’s norms or break some rule. I get pissed off when they become flustered, or exasperated, or rigidly ignore me. It’s self-induced frustration that’s part of the experience of living abroad. And 95% percent of the time, I cause it because I forget the guiding maxim of When in Rome, do as Romans do. And when you don’t Sometimes Shit Happens.

So here’s a story…
Although it’s my second go-round, I am still readjusting to the fine art of living well in Japan. A few months ago, we planned to dispose of two old surplus kerosene heaters by recycling. The trash disposal system here is complicated. Big ticket items (fridges, stoves, couches, any metal over 30 cm long) won’t be collected by the city garbage trucks. You must pay a separate disposal fee and arrange pickup, or drop it off yourself at a local recycling center. We're-do-it yourself types, so Naomi correctly pre-registered for a drop-off day and time and bought the requisite recycling stickers to cover the disposal cost. All set.

In Yokohama, these recycling centers tend to be staffed by semi-retired seniors. The recycling drop-off process is frenetic. There are many staff members scurrying around as the items are handed over and then quickly moved to adjacent holding areas segmented by size and use. It’s highly efficient and makes sense. With moving cars and heavy items being dropped off, safety is very important.
 
I went alone, drove in the entrance and saw one lane occupied by large trucks, so I slowly proceeded into the only other open lane. It was the wrong lane. I pulled up and stopped. A crewcut, silver-haired member of the recycling center team (the guys in the green jackets) barked at me in gruff, rapid-fire Japanese, “get in the correct lane, why did you go in this wrong lane?” I blanched and pointed to the jammed lanes behind and beside me. I couldn’t back up now anyway with the one-way traffic flow. 

“I am very sorry, and good morning. Should I go around again? The lanes are blocked,” I replied in Japanese. He just turned away. No reply. Then a flustered-looking lady with a clipboard came over and said, “Wait. Did you pre-register?”
“Yes, we did,” I said.
“Did you pre-register?” she repeated.
“Yes, my wife, who is Japanese, did call and pre-register,” I repeated. I gave her Naomi’s family name and cell number.
“Wait over there, I will reconfirm,” she replied, and walked toward her office.
I was causing quite a scene. And I was just a tad irritated by the way I was being treated.
While I was waiting for the lady, two other staff members came up to the rear of our car, per standard procedure for drop-offs, and I got out and handed them the two heaters with the payment stickers already attached. By that time, I’d decided to get out of there because I was embarrassed by my own mistake and wanted to leave as quickly as possible. Why wait for the almighty confirmation?

Of course I knew I had messed this up and this was entirely my responsibility. The crewcut guy freaked out when something unexpected occurred. Perhaps I was being too sensitive by thinking they were also uncomfortable because I was a lone foreigner and oftentimes that takes folks out of their comfort zone. They assume I cannot communicate with them.

But as I sheepishly handed the kerosene heaters over, one of the other staff guys kind of grinned at me once he realized I wasn’t being rude or cutting in line, just oblivious of which lane to drive in. He nodded toward the exit, indicating it was OK to go. I said thanks and drove out. 

Reader, you might be thinking, why is he making such a big deal about this? If you live in Japan long enough, etiquette mistakes by gaijins and the various reactions by local people accumulate. Stress builds up if you let it get to you. (And I did.) At that point, over-sensitive foreigners need to suck it up, accept their part of the responsibility for whatever occurred, and not get gaijitated.

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