Thursday, December 6, 2012

An Encounter in Hiroshima

Currently I'm sitting at my desk with half an hour before cleaning time.  I spent Monday to Thursday doing odd jobs and catching up on things at school while the kids were in exams and now I'm officially bored.  Yes, classes started up again today, but I only teach two a day and the last month or two I haven't even been planning my own classes (it's amazing how long you can spend planning a class when you only do it once every two weeks!).

So now I'm doing something I have been procrastinating for some time - telling you about a very odd conversation we had last time we were in Hiroshima.  I may have forgotten things, in which case I hope the other two present will remind me and I'll amend myself, adding in the other social atrocities referred to in the conversation.

To set the scene, Jeff and I are having dinner with an ALT friend, Ana, at our favourite Irish bar, Molly Malone's, in Hiroshima.  We are happily enjoying the awesome food, foreign beer and good company.  However, Ana went to the bar to get another drink and, on her way back, she was stopped by a young vertically-challenged Marine from the table behind us.  I'm not sure what he was saying to her, but she came back blushing and looking awkward.  She slipped out to have a cigarette (and avoid the Marine), but he was clearly bored and wandered over, all 5ft of him, to talk to Jeff and I.

Hearing our accents, he was delighted.  "I used to work in Australia!  You guys are cool!"
"Err, actually we're not Australian, we're from New Zealand."
"Yeah!  You guys are cool!  I really liked Australia!"
"No, New Zealand.  It's not part of Australia."
"Oh, yeah, but... I love your country."
#^&^&^%%!!!!!!!
My year living in America I was totally used to people not knowing what or where NZ was, but Japan LOVES NZ and I've been spoilt.  It was so hard listening to someone that didn't know - and didn't believe - that NZ was actually a separate country!

A little later, Jeff asked what he was doing in Australia.
"I was blowing shit up."
"??"
"We were in the outback blowing shit up.  It was really far out, heaps of abos!"
Jeff and I meet eyes.  He raises his eyebrows at me and I take a deep breath.
"It was a place called Katherine," he continues.  "Do you know it?"
"Ah, no, we don't."
He looked surprised.  "Why not?"
"Ah, cos it's a different country!"
"What about Darwin?  We went to Darwin, too.  Have you been there?"
"No.  No we haven't."
Again, the surprised face.  "Really?"
"Australia is quite far from NZ.  You have to take a plane.  For at least two hours"
Blank face.

By this point Ana had come back and whispered to me, "I'm so concerned that he is allowed to use explosives!"

But it wasn't just USA-NZ international relations that he was out to destroy.  Things went from bad to worse as Jeff continued trying to have a polite conversation...

"So," Jeff asked, "how do you like Japan?"
"Oh, I fuckin' hate it," he replied.  "But it's cool being in Hiroshima cos, you know, we bombed the shit out of it and stuff."
At this point I start looking for any holes in the floor to crawl into before anyone sees me talking to this guy.

In an effort to change the subject Jeff started a conversation about America.  "I've been to America," Jeff told him.  "I did a three week tour that started in San Francisco."
"San Francisco?!" he repeated.  "You're not a faggot, are you?!"
Oh good Lord... America, why did you let him out?!  You can keep idiots like this to yourself, please!
Future notes for our Marine friend:
1. That is offensive language.  Highly, highly offensive.  But I'm not even going to bother telling you that because you haven't even got your head round the fact NZ is not part of Australia.  Even though I told you six times in the last 20 minutes.
2. If Jeff took offense to that... Well he's a foot taller than you.  Just saying.
3. If he said yes... what you going to do then????  Run away screaming???  (Yes, it did cross Jeff's mind to answer in the affirmative!)

And finally, just to ruin any lingering intelligence we thought he may have possessed, Jeff asked him where he was from.  "Virginia," he told us.  Jeff and I couldn't place it, so we asked him what it was next to.  His brow wrinkled in thought for a few moments.  Finally he had to turn to his friend and ask, "What's next to Virginia?"  The answer, for those non-Americans, turns out to be West Virginia.

I could see Jeff wanted to start banging his head on the solid wooden table as it would have been more intellectually stimulating, but he politely refrained.  Finally his friends told him they had to get back to base and the Marines bid us goodnight.

That was a very very special conversation.  We get a warped view of the world over here - all the English speakers we interact with here, whether Japanese or foreign, are university educated people.  It's easy to forget that there are plenty of idiots that speak English too!  Although that guy may have been the most uneducated person I've ever spoken to.  He made my Downs Syndrome aunt look smart.  At least she can hold a conversation without offending the other party multiple times!  And, as Ana kept reminding us with a worried expression, he is in charge of guns and explosives.

That conversation was one of the most surreal experiences I've had here.  For the rest of the evening, walking arm-in-arm through the streets of Hiroshima, Jeff and I laughed in disbelief and shock at the things this guy had said.

I'm trying really hard to end on something clever here, but I also know both America and the Marines get a bad rep (it's unfortunate that the least educated people in America tend to be exported the most!), so I guess if I can't say something nice, I won't say anything at all!

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