What Matters: March 2001
Japan: Nerve Gas and Nuclear Accidents
By Bryan E. Blackwell SM '93, PhD '96
I have the uncanny ability to cause disasters in Japan, or at least be in close proximity to them when they occur. In 1995, the week after I arrived, the Kobe earthquake occurred. Later, the day after I first rode the Tokyo subway, there was a nerve gas attack on it. Last year, there was a nuclear accident 30 miles away from where I lived, the night I returned from America.
I can't exactly remember why I started studying Japanese, but I do remember some of the reasons that made it worthwhile. For Americans, Japanese is a challenge for a number of reasons. It shares little in common with English, and reading, writing, and speaking are very distinct skills. For this reason, it is uncommon to meet foreigners living abroad who claim fluency even after living there for many years. Fortunately, you only need to understand 20 percent of it to appreciate 80 percent of the whole experience.
Japan is an ancient country, one whose history dates back more than 2,000 years. On the other hand, they are known for being one of the world's technology leaders. This gives rise to some great dichotomies. Shinjyuku-gyoen is an enormous public garden similar to Central Park in New York. You can sit near a tea ceremony hut, overlooking a traditional stone garden and ponds stocked with carp. It could be a thousand years ago, but across the street, skyscrapers fill the horizon. There are multistory electronics stores with flashing neon lights and merchandise that the rest of the world won't see for years, juxtaposed with a Buddhist shine, crafted entirely by hand. Over the years, I've used as many outhouses as I have $3,500 toilets complete with automatic bidets and remote control.
The newness of this situation is fascinating for the first couple of months. After that, the honeymoon wears off and you begin wondering why people here don't do things your way—the "right" way. At times, the level of conformity is unnerving. Eat breakfast at the company dormitory, take the Sagami-Ohno Bus to the Odakyuu Line, transfer at Zama to another train, take the company bus to the office, work, eat lunch at the company cafeteria, return home via the reverse, eat dinner at the company dormitory, sleep, and repeat. I did this for five months, except for Sundays, when I didn't go to work and ate somewhere else. The notoriously long hours are especially difficult given the language barrier. Just keeping up takes a lot of mental energy. At the end of a 60-hour week, it feels as though you've worked twice that. Surprisingly, with this type of schedule, it is difficult to learn Japanese while in Japan. However, there is nothing like being there to make academic lessons practical.
Given this rosy picture, what makes Japan so alluring? The opportunity to accomplish a common task in an entirely different manner. Having people petrified to talk to you until you speak in their native tongue. Seeing the world in a light unbiased by your home country's social-political viewpoints. Being accepted by a people for making the effort to learn more about them. Acting as an ambassador for a country that many will never know. Waking up to raw eggs over rice. Perhaps my points are waning.
Fundamentally, we are all quite similar. Just about everyone wants a meaningful job, good friends, some creature comforts, and a family. Politics, misconceptions, and prejudices get in the way of making personal connections with people of different cultures. Working with people, on their own terms, in their own country, using their native language makes a great difference. It isn't a concession, but an opportunity to understand how the world is evolving as we become a global community. Learning a new language and culture can be daunting, but embrace it; the rewards are greater than you will have ever anticipated.
About the Author
Bryan E. Blackwell SM '93, PhD '96, participated in the MIT-Japan program while completing his doctorate in materials engineering. During graduate school, he was an intern at the Nissan Technical Center in Atsugi, Japan. After graduating and going to work at Cummins, Inc., he worked with joint venture partners Toshiba in Kawasaki, Japan, and Komatsu in Oyama, Japan. Currently he lives in Franklin, Indiana, with his wife, Sandy PhD '94, and their week-old son, Colin Raleigh.
What Matters is a guest opinion column written by a different MIT alumnus or alumna. The views expressed are entirely those of the author and do not necessarily represent the views of the Alumni Association or MIT. Interested in writing a column? Email whatmatters@mit.edu.
