Monday, September 10, 2007

My Teachers

I don't seem to get to blogging about my trip home...hopefully it will come. Meanwhile, as autumn approaches Kyoto slowly, biting on the already scarce hours of sunlight, back home it is the most crucial time of the year for one's soul. With the New Year (Rosh ha-Shanah) celebrations, begins a 10 day period called (apparently, in English) "The Days of Awe", that culminates with the fast of Yom Kippur. During this period the fate of each person for the coming year is written in the Book of Life, according to the way he carried himself through the previous one. So it is high time to repent your sins, make amends, and generally clean up your act before God.

But do not fear, reader, I am not about to start listing my sins in this post. Don't want my ailing Internet connection to die of boredom. Trying to keep my soul-searching positive, I turn to Japanese culture where, surprisingly, apologising and giving thanks is the same thing. One of the most common words for apology in Japanese - "Sumimasen", can also be used for expressing gratitude, as it literary means "it is not over", as in "I can never repay / make it up to you". It is really a shame that in modern Japanese society the original profound meaning of some expressions is lost in the jungle of protocol politeness. So today I will be giving thanks for the numerous gifts of wisdom I have received in my life an cannot ever repay, to my teachers, who, sometimes unknowingly, helped my journey through this world. And here we go:



Things I've learned from my parents:


-A sense of duty that would not shame a samurai.

-The importance of friendship over pretty much everything.


-Similarly, that pretty much everything in the world is more important than money.


-That the secret to a good marriage is having a sense of humor.


-The importance of learning history, that for my father is the one true religion.


-That the only sure way to get your children to do what you want is to have them respect you and care about your opinion. It took me at least 25 years to ever think of revisiting any of my parents' ways.


-And the only way of earning anyone's respect is by being a person worthy of respect, as simple as that.

Things I've been taught by my friends:

-To enjoy things I'm not good at. Such as sports, or cooking. A revolutionary concept for me. It was mostly my friend Noa in Israel who taught me by personal example the joy of little everyday activities, and my friends in Japan got me on a bicycle, into the karaoke room and so on.


-That people are different (from me), and I should get over my prude self and support them through the paths they chose if I call myself their friend.


-About fashion, cool places, pop-culture, the ways of the world in the practical sense. Being a person so invested in my inner world I had very slim chances of surviving in the outer one on my own. For example, without my friend Lisa I wouldn't know where to eat either in Jerusalem or Kyoto.


-To speak if I want to be heard. Still working on that one, to stop expecting people to read my mind. But at least now I can stop myself from getting angry at people who don't.


What I've learned from the men in my life:

-That it is absolutely not true that men only want one thing. Or I keep meeting the only ones who want more. Which would also kind of make sense - for God knows they could get that one easier elsewhere. And if there was one thing all men want, I'd have to say it was something diferent than usually assumed. In general, I have this theory that the greatest human desire is having someone to listen to you. Not sex, or fame or anything else. Although I am yet to figure out a strategy how to take over the world by being a good listener...


-About music. It has become an established rule that men come into my life armed with Cd's and (I am that old) cassettes. Again - I'm not in touch with reality enough to find my own, with the exception of my favourite songwriters who get my attention with their lyrics.

-To invest more in getting to know them. Exploring a real person can be a lot more interesting than exploring whatever elaborate fantasy that I construct in my head. Who knew!!!

-There are men in this world who are impossible not to fall in love with and equally impossible to do anything else with. I gradually learned to be their friend and pity the girls who date them. Tell me if you think of a better solution.

-Trying to "save" someone by loving them is an idea not only futile but narcissistic, and plain stupid. Next time I get it I'll hit myself on the head with a frying pen.




What I learned from living in Israel



-That there are ways one can only love his country if he comes to it by ship. I suppose that the patriotism of emigrants is a thing well-known, but it's more than that. Finding a place in the world that fits you like a glove is not something that happens to everyone. Not even people who live in countries that are more prosperous, safer and more comfortable to live in.

-The feeling of the High Holy Days. Maybe it's easier to feel the pulse of the country that small, if only by the changing direction of the traffic jams on the country's only highway with the beginning and the end of a holiday. In Japan, you see the Matsuri, festivals, on the street, and the seasonal holidays mostly in the shops. In Israel you can feel a change in the air, the weather itself when a holiday approaches. In fact even while I'm here in Japan, sometimes I find myself thinking "this feels like a Friday evening in Israel" .

-What really matters. Israeli culture is the opposite of Japanese in the way it values essence over appearance, results over effort, frankness over politeness and so on. Israelis think of themselves as a rude people, which i wouldn't say is completely true. But they are definitely less concerned with saving face and maintaining harmony. I do enjoy more refined manners, believe me. But I also believe that the one time in life you may need help from a stranger on the street is worth years of putting up with thy neighbor's pushy, loud and unceremonious attitude.