Intriguing thoughts about long-term living in another culture

Image from amazon.com

"Bento Box in the Heartland

My Japanese Girlhood in Whitebread America" by Linda Furiya.

This is the intriguing title of a book I've just finished. 

Bento Box is a Japanese lunch box.

It is a first generation Japanese-American's story about growing up in a small town in Indiana with her Japanese parents. The memoir centres on food, but it isn't a typical food memoir. She explores a whole variety of things related to her childhood, but particularly her struggle with identifying who she was.

For me the intriguing points where where her story parallels our own.

Like when she talks about how her parents carefully monitored  their Japanese food supplies. And would drive six hours to Chicago to buy Japanese ingredients. I realised this is just an extreme version of us going to Costco. 

"Japanese home cooking had become the only daily thread my parents had to their culture. Even I knew that Japanese food symbolized something greater than sustenance. It was like a comforting familiarity that assured them they could make it through the daily challenges of living in a country not their own. A simple bowl of perfectly steamed rice or ramen noodles in hot broth could do wonders in keeping homesickness at bay, lift the blues deepened by the adjustment period of learning new customs, and stir the appetite to eat.

It wasn't until I was in my thirties and living in Beijing that I really began to understand what my parents must have gone through. On the days I was most homesick, a grilled ham-and-cheese sandwich or a homemade milkshake did wonders to boost my flagging spirit. p95 

And about their first trip to a store they'd discovered in Chicago:

The cooler was soon overflowing with seafood and other cold items. The knowledge of their presence put my parents at ease as Dad wove his way out of the city and onto the highway." p105

I realise that sometimes I feel guilty that I'm not more Japanese in my food tastes and what I cook at home. Probably I don't need to feel that way, though.

The other point of parallel is even closer to home. Often she writes about her mother's struggles with English and how she spoke as little as possible in public, worried about her accent. Her mum relied on her husband for everything outside of the home, including driving and making phone calls. The author did all her mum's English correspondence from 3rd grade on, including her own school permission letters.

This is painful to admit, but I too rely on my husband a lot in areas of dealing with Japanese, especially phone calls, and official things. I don't feel as free here as I do in Australia. I wish I did, I wish my Japanese was better. My confidence is lower here than in Australia.

But in general I do have a much better deal of it than this family, there are some stark differences between us. We aren't immigrants. We aren't expecting to spend the rest of our lives here. We are supported here by a mission organisation that cares about our well-being. I have lots of English-speaking friends and our kids are in an International School and speak the same language at school as they do at home (which does make it easier for us all). This family was the only Asian family in their town. And of course the Internet has changed things significantly for those of us living in a country not our own.

Sometimes I wish we were more "Japanese" in our lifestyle, but I think we've had to find a level of acculturation that works for our family, our personalities, and our abilities (not to mention our jobs). When we first came to Japan I assumed that we'd be much more immersed than we've ended up being.

Actually it was a source of great concern for me early on. I couldn't figure out how I'd be able to get that comfortable with "being Japanese" and still be able to stay a long time (which has always been our goal). After a while, I figured out that we'd never "become Japanese". I also was told by a veteran who'd "stayed a long while" that you just need to do it one day at a time. "Can you cope for today? Then you're okay. Leave the rest." That was a great comfort.

This has been a bit of a ramble, but I hope that it gives you another insight into what it's like to live overseas in a culture that is very different. Any thoughts?