英語人 Something's Changed (Japan II)

They say the best way to begin a story is at the beginning. That's what I want to do- I do, I really do. The problem is, contrary to popular belief, us writers don't really make for good story tellers. Writing and story telling, for one, are two entirely different things. And as much as we hope to captivate the audience, in telling things backwards with nothing but words - black on white little words- something will go amiss.

I want to tell you the story of how and why I first came to Japan, what happened over my ±7 visits that spanned over 6 years and totaled over 6 months. And how it transformed me, but more importantly, how the country transformed itself.

But instead, I'm going to tell you about the first time I was called Eigo jin, and in doing so, I hope that maybe you will come to piece the story together yourself.

Not MY story, no, that's boring and nobody cares.

The story of Japan today, which like the stories of all countries, is a result of yesterday.

Fushimi inari's famous gates. Pro-tip, don't climb to the top.

I was first called Eigo-jin in exclamation. Hila-chan wa Eigo-jin! yelled my friend's nephew who I'd known for years. The first time I came to Japan he was a toddler. He now sat on the living room sofa in his karate gi, the prospect of middle school drawing nearer as his sister, just two years his senior, remained home to study for her entrance exams. He had never called me Eigo-jin before. Perplexed, I responded with "eh?" and the rest of the present family members laughed "Eigo-jin!" They remarked. "Eigo-jin janai, ne?" His grandmother turned to me smiling, he means gaijin, she said in Japanese. I nodded with a smile to show I wasn't offended in the least. Japan is a country where thoughts revolve around the potential of offending others.

Hokanji (I think) Pagoda. The greatest thing about Kyoto is that when it's quiet enough, you can forget what century you're in

If you don't speak Japanese (which I'm guessing most of you don't), you'd have no idea why Eigo-jin is a strange thing to call someone.

Eigo is the Japanese word for English (the language, not the nation). Jin, in this case, means person. In other words, my friend's nephew was calling me "English-speaking-person". This may not sound odd at first, but consider the fact that until 2018, on every encounter with a native Japanese, I was considered a "gaijin"- or simply put, foreigner. There term "gaijin-pass" had even been coined long before I came to Japan*. To add to that, it turned out his nephew had also called a German family who was staying at their house for awhile "Eigo-jin" although he was aware that they were German, and therefore not English-speakers.

I was dubbed "Eigo-jin" shortly thereafter at the local park while skateboarding one afternoon. "EHHHH kakoiii, kono Eigo na onna suge!" "Eh doko? Souka! ano Eigo jin! Kachan mitte!" Two kids on penny boards yelled to one another as their mum encouraged them from behind. I was flattered to be someone's childhood skateboarding heroine for the day.

As my time in Japan extended, I heard "Eigo-jin" here and there. I figured it was somehow synonymous with "haku-jin" literally, white person, or "gaijin". But what had happened in the past few years since my last trip to Japan to trigger the Eigo-jin "revolution"?

A child and his mother watch the trains arrive and depart above the Keisei Line, Nippori, Tokyo.

Tourists stroll by on their way to visit one of Tokyo's most well preserved neighborhoods

To be honest, I don't know. I can only make some speculations. First and foremost, the sudden large influx of foreigners from other Asian countries, specifically China. As the Japanese economy weakened for the first time in decades after the Fukushima disaster and the Chinese economy gained momentum, the tables suddenly turned. Japanese that once used to shop at high end stores in foreign countries were now seeing their mainland neighbors striding up and down the Tokyo equivalent of 5th avenue and eating at Michelin restaurants in numbers that were unparalleled to anything in the history of Asian socio-economics since ancient times.

In the past, tourism in Japan was largely internal, with Japanese transportation focusing their branding and PR on the local market, and if there were visitors from abroad, more often than not they were from wealthy western countries who could afford the strong Yen and expensive living costs of Japan's cities. With this new influx of neighbor-tourists, perhaps there became a need to differentiate between a western foreigner and an eastern foreigner. English being the most universally spoken language for westerners, without really delving into accents and so forth, it's easy to assume they're all from English-speaking countries.

Ueno market summer/winter 2012-13. Scarcely a tourist in sight. Currently,

over 10% of the establishments are owned by foreigners.

Ueno market (Ameyayokocho) is now a major tourist hub.

And thus, I suspect, the Eigo-jin was born- complete with a heavy Eigo-jin accent, a love for fitness, and overall aggressive, crass behavior to match. That is, from the perspective of the average Japanese, I reckon.

But the transformation of Japan doesn't stop there. Eigo-jin vs. gaijin vs. hakujin is only the tip of the iceberg.

As I write this, an inexplicable sadness clutches at my guts, it reaches its fingers up to my trachea and tightens around my throat. It's a feeling nearly as though my body wants to cry. It wants to cry because something has died. Something is gone and it will probably never return. And in a way, I don't want it to. If it were to return, that would spell disaster for the country I adore. The thing is, though, no matter how I look at it, the Japan I fell in love with is dead.

And it's all my fault.

*giajin pass refers to a kind of unspoken rule that foreigners (in this case, those who are visibly non-Japanese), can get away with obstructed what are otherwise considered to be social norms. For example, using the wrong phrase to thank someone, using short-form slang in a formal conversation, talking on the phone in the train (before they had English announcements forbidding it), and so on.