Lessons Learned on This Sojourn to Japan

I have learned so much on this trip. So much about Japan, Japanese culture and history, and the Japanese people that makes me feel a whole lot smarter than I was before. (Which is doubly impressive because this is probably my sixth time here.)

I want to tell you so many things I’ve learned on this trip that surprised, impressed, and/or delighted me. It would fill a small book. So, to save us both the time and effort, I’ll reduce my discoveries to one or two at a time.

Today, I will cover two topics:

1. This whole cleanliness thing I’ve been commenting on.
2. Something unrelated to Japan that I am excited to have learned.

The Cleanliness Thing

One reason this whole damn country is so freaking clean is that the Japanese believe there is such a thing as “correct” behavior, which includes a lengthy list of manners and disciplines that most Americans would consider quaint if not downright antiquated.

* Shoes: I was aware, as I’m sure you were, that in a Japanese home or in a traditional Japanese hotel, one removes one’s shoes before stepping beyond the foyer and into the interior rooms. But I did not know that there are rules about removing your street shoes and where you place them. For example, you would never put them on a desk or a ledge, but always on the floor or on a shelf reserved for them.

* And Socks: I also did not know that if there are not slippers or thong sandals available to slip into, one can walk in one’s socks – but it is considered vulgar to walk barefoot in common areas such as living rooms and dining rooms.

* Chopsticks: One important reason that the Japanese prefer chopsticks to Western cutlery is that they believe one is much less likely to get food on one’s clothing or on the table when using chopsticks. There are, apparently, exceptions for Western foods – but the “clean” way to eat most foods, and especially Asian foods, is to bring the bowl close to your mouth and use the chopsticks to adroitly maneuver the food in.

* Wet Wipes: The first thing a server will bring you at any sort of eatery, from an ice cream parlor to a gourmet restaurant, is what I can only describe as a wet wipe enclosed in a plastic sheath. It took K and I a few meals before we figured out that they are meant to be used immediately after sitting down to get the hands clean and germ-free before touching anything, including the table settings. Even the cloth napkins provided by fancy restaurants are not meant to be touched until you have cleaned your fingers with the wet wipes.

* Coughing/Sneezing: I have lately developed some sort of allergic reaction to who knows what that has me sneezing now and then. Not once, but seven or eight times in a row. These attacks come unexpectedly and quickly, so I am sometimes forced to sneeze into my napkin. This is, in Japan, a disgusting display of crudeness. (K says it is also considered disgusting in America.) In any case, one is supposed to carry a handkerchief for this purpose.

* Public Restrooms: Even at airports, bus stops, and train stations, the restrooms are spotlessly clean. This is true in every city we visited, including Tokyo, which, if you remember from an earlier post, is a city of 14 million people. It’s not unusual to see someone, after washing their hands in a public restroom, clean the sink before leaving. Likewise with toilets. I’ve yet to see a toilet that was left dirty. In fairness, the Japanese have an advantage in this regard, as every toilet I encountered during my entire month-long visit was a Toto toilet, a type of toilet that is… how would I describe it? If American toilets are prop planes, Totos are supersonic jets. I won’t even try to detail their many amazing features. Let me just say that it would be difficult to leave a Toto toilet bowl sullied, even if you wanted to.

I could go on…

I’ve mentioned how clean the streets and sidewalks are. In four weeks, I have not seen a single piece of litter anywhere. And as I said, this is a country that hasn’t provided public trash containers for more than 20 years!

One can’t help but ask how it’s possible for a country the size of California with a population a third of the US to be so damn clean. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about it. And there are explanations. As I said, cleanliness is considered a virtue in Japan – almost a moral virtue – to which there are no opposing views. (I’ve read somewhere that when Caucasians – I think it was the Portuguese – first arrived in Japan centuries ago, the Japanese could not believe they were human because of how dirty and smelly they were.)

I was talking to one of our tour guides about this cleanliness issue. She was sixty-something, and obviously well-educated. She was also fluent in English and full of insights that made our time with her worth twice her fee. For example, she told us that in grammar schools and high schools, Japanese students are expected not only to keep their own desks and lockers spotless, but to clean the bathrooms, hallways, and classrooms, too. In the US, that would seem preposterous. But if you think about it, it makes perfect sense if you want the next generation to grow up with “correct” behavior and understanding that everyone has a responsibility to take care of not just their personal environment, but the social environments they inhabit.

Next time, I’m going to cover another amazing aspect of Japan that is so very different from every other Western country I can think of. I’m talking about how calm and orderly everything is here. I mean… really…

But today, I want to finish up by telling you about something I learned in an airport on the way to Japan that had nothing to do with Japan.

The Other Thing 

I learned… are you ready for this? I learned how to tie my shoelaces!

Noticing how often my shoelaces were unlacing themselves as we marched up and down airport ramps and corridors, K said, “Why are you always running around with your shoelaces untied? You are going to trip and break something, and then what?”

“I have no idea why this keeps happening,” I said. “Maybe I should double-knot them.”

“You don’t need to double-knot them if you tie them correctly in the first place,” she replied.

I’ve been tying my shoelaces for about 70 years now. And this was the first time I had ever been accused of tying them improperly. But it turns out that there is a way to tie one’s shoes that is substantially better than the method I’ve been using all my life.

It has to do with the looping – which loop goes over the other loop. The way I’ve always done it achieves a seemingly tight and handsome knot. However, if put to the test of, say, several hours of walking, it will come undone. Looping the laces in the opposite way results in a knot that stays tight until you decide to undo it. (Here’s a video I found online that demonstrates the procedure better than I can explain it.)

In the few weeks that have passed since K taught me how to do this, I’ve followed her up and down hills and stairways, along highways and byways, and over hills and rubble and through sand and mud. And not once have my shoelaces come undone.

I realize I’m writing this with the energy one might properly feel after discovering a million dollars stashed under a floorboard. This may not be the most important thing I’ve ever learned, but, in terms of usefulness, I’d have to put it on my top ten list.

A final word on something I’m sure did not deserve more than a sentence or two. If I discover, after publishing this confession, that I am the only adult on earth that did NOT know it, I will be deeply humiliated. So if you, like me, did not know how you tie your shoes properly before reading this, please give me a shout.