Reverse culture shock is possibly the weirdest thing to experience. Because when you leave the West and go live in the East, you expect things to be baffling. You expect your impulses for polite social conduct to be wrong. You expect the common language to be overwhelming and strange. You expect to hesitate when counting out money because you're not used to the shapes, colors, and amounts. You expect to be struck by the cacophony of millions of small details being radically different from what your mind expects.
When you return to your home country, the place where you've been raised and indoctrinated into the culture since birth, and find that your impulses for polite social conduct are wrong, it's really strange. You find that the language you speak fluently and understand perfectly to be overwhelming in such large amounts. (Especially when you've been training your brain to seek out the foreign language for the sake of self-study.) You find yourself pausing when counting out money because you're not used to the shapes, colors, and amounts. You find yourself overwhelmed by the cacophony of millions of small details that are radically different from what your mind has learned to expect.
Very weirdly, I find myself being mildly offended and annoyed with the large, boisterous, and abruptness of American society. I was in a bathroom in Honolulu, just outside the entrance to Customs, and one of the workers started calling out "Next!" and waving people over when a stall was empty. (There were, like six stalls total. It was a small bathroom. You could see when one was empty.) I wanted to tell her, "Lady, 75% of the people in line are Japanese. When it comes to collective, courteous self-organization, they excel. Trust me, you don't need to push them around." I also couldn't believe how many people on the Stateside planes were chatting to each other like old friends over things as simple as helping each other put carry-ons into the overhead compartments. It felt like an invasion of space. Japanese people are very quick to assist you when it looks like you need it, but they're also just as likely to leave you alone to accomplish it yourself or--if you absolutely must--ask for assistance. Preferably from someone who works there, not the other customers. Japanese people are wonderfully kind and helpful, but they also know how to leave other people alone.
I also find customer service workers in America frustratingly apathetic; like they can't even fake pleasantness. Moreover, there aren't a lot of phrases in English (at least in the States) that you can use to show an attempt at courtesy. While English has a ridiculous number of verb tenses to show time, Japanese has an astounding number of conjugations and suffixes that can be used to show deference and courtesy. There are a number of ways to say "Please" and "Thank you" alone, to show how courteous you're being and whether the person you're speaking to is higher or lower than you in status. I've started saying "___ o onegaishimasu" when I order things because it's mildly more polite and courteous than "____ o kudasai," even though there's nothing wrong with "kudasai" to begin with. Japanese people even say 'please' and 'thank you' once or twice sometimes. In America, I feel like every "please" and "thank you" from people is ripped out of them with extreme reluctance.
I don't know if this is how Japanese people perceive American society, but it's really weird for me. I don't feel as safe in the States as I did in Japan. Quite literally, the moment my ridiculous amount of Japanese yen was exchanged for a ridiculous (but sadly much less, damn those exchange rates) amount of American dollars, I felt my paranoia over theft increase tenfold. When I go to the Hitachinaka Starbucks in Japan, I leave my computer and purse at the table and go to to the bathroom all the time. (I take my phone with me, but that's because it's small and would be easy to quietly steal.) In Japanese coffee shops, people will leave their personal belongings at tables and chairs before going to order their food, as a way of claiming the space. In America, you'd do what with something you could afford to have stolen; like a cheap jacket. Or you'd have someone physically sit at the table to guard everyone's things. At the Sawmill Starbucks in Ohio, I'd often lock my computer to something before leaving it to go to the bathroom. Things like this make me wonder how many Japanese tourists experience theft in the US because they don't realize you have to be fifty times more cautious and 100 times less trusting of strangers.
My instincts for social interactions are all wrong. I went to order at Starbucks and had to remember how to order in English because I've done more Starbucks ordering in Japan than in America. I bow and say "sumimasen!" or "gomen nasai!" when I have to nudge people out of my way in crowded areas. Just now I said, "Thank you!" out loud and it felt really uncomfortable to do so without at least a little head bow--like I was being inauthentic. I feel less polite in English than I do in Japanese.
I also cannot manage American money for the life of me. I keep thinking the copper coins are 10 yen pieces, and the fact that the large coins are worth $0.25 instead of 100 yen (technically about $0.86 but in Japan treated the way $1 is in the States) confuses me so much.
My mother and I went grocery shopping briefly and the size of a regular Kroger grocery store was astounding. Just... so much food. So many varieties of each food. Who even needs that much pasta sauce?!
Also, due to the fact that I slept for nearly 14 hours since getting home about 24 hours ago, I stayed up most of the night, and the sun is only just now rising at 6:30am. In Japan, I see shadows on the ground by 5am. The actual sunrise is at about 4:20am now that it's summer. It feels a lot earlier to me than it actually is here.
I think the hardest thing for me, though, is how afraid I am of losing the many ways I've become integrated into Japanese culture. I'm afraid I'll lose my Japanese instincts, and more importantly, my Japanese language ability. The reason I never studied Japanese in high school or college is because I always figured I'd learn it and then lose it, because where would I ever find consistent Japanese practice in the States? (And, of course, why learn Japanese if I was never in a million years going to get the chance to live in Japan, right?) I've worked really hard to become integrated into Japanese culture, and the thought of losing the many ways I've become Japanese is frightening. Moreover, there are many things about Japan and Japanese culture that I appreciate and prefer over American culture, and I worry that I'll be frustrated by American culture while I'm here.
In conclusion, reverse culture shock is weird. In Japan I worry about committing a faux pas because I'm unaware of the Japanese way to do something, but now I find myself worried that I'll act "strange" in America because I do something the Japanese way without thinking about it.
We'll see how things go.
