politeness

Thank you for waiting. Do you often use these words, in that precise order? I bet you don`t. But the average Japanese - unless they are hermits - seems to use their equivalent `omataseshimashita` at least five times a day if not ten. If you take longer than normal to get out of the car, if you break away from your group to put a crisp bag in the bin, if you stop to inspect the soles of your shoes for dog dirt (actually this action may not be common in Japan), you will inevitably say `omataseshimashita` or if you`re with family or close friends, the more informal `omatase`. It`s just one example of Japanese using polite conventions automatically in a situation where it wouldn`t even occur to most cultures. I`ve found this hard to adapt to at times, especially as we Europeans are used to excessive politeness actually getting in the way of easy-going relationships. I suppose the reason for this is that if you say something to someone, which is the same thing you would say to anyone, it still feels like the someone could be anyone. If you see what I mean. There are occasions where Brits still resort to conventional phrases sure: a grunted `morning` never going out of fashion, or at the opposite end of the scale, on meeting a bereaved friend, `I was so sorry to hear` tends to beat something improvised - which is like saying `I`m sad for you`, but I`m not about to sacrifice my right to compose original repartee. For yes, language, friends, is an opportunity to express individuality: the Tesco checkout wage slave at least has the choice of attitude with which to greet the customers. A cheery smile and `how are you doing, my love?` on checkout 7; the sullen, silent treatment on number 6; shoppers filing out of both, their moods minutely changed according to the queue they entered. Not so in Japan: whichever queue you enter here (and it will be short) you`ll be greeted in the same way, with a slight bow and a set phrase, something along the lines of `thank you for coming`. Your change will be presented to you in a little tray and another thank you. If you`re like me and always reply with a thank you of your own, you`ll be looked on with an indulgent smile by Japanese who might be watching - this is not the convention and so people don`t do it.
To conclude, I`ve only got two more days before flying back to Edinburgh on Monday, and this might be my last blog (I know you`ll be devastated). Next time I come to Japan, a checkout rebel, along with plenty of other things, will be on my list of things left to see.
OMATASE!!