On Being an Exchange Student

I got an email from someone looking into exchange in the near future. She asked many questions, one of which was "What's it like being an exchange student?" I thought long and hard about this question, throwing adjectives and Rotary catch phrases like fun, exciting, difficult, challenging, mind-broadening, and, confusing. In the end, the one word I really felt could best describe this exchange is wierd.

There is nothing normal about being an exchange student. Nothing comforting, at least not in the beginning. In fact, my comfort zone was the biggest burden I brought with me to Japan. Even when life feels normal (which of course is a lot of the time, maybe even most of the time), it's a wierd normal.

My exchange has thus far been absolutely loaded with surprises and being so surprised is downright wierd. Wierd wierd wierd. Not knowing the language is weird of course, but what's wierder is knowing the language. I hope you understand the following explanation. Knowing the language is really an insight into the culture. Like the word "yasashii" for example. I learned in my textbook that it means "gentle." In America, we don't describe good people as gentle. It's wierd. And if you were a foreigner in America asking someone to please use easier English, you wouldn't say "Would you mind using more gentle English?" Wierd, huh?
And of course it's wierd knowing the language because what can possibly be normal about using Japanese on a daily basis?

In America, I was probably a wierd kid. Everyone says so, and I think they're only half joking. If that. But I was never The Wierd Kid. You know the one. Picks his nose, pours ketchup all over his tuna salad, smells sort of funny, draws (coincidentally) too much Japanese anime, knows all the answers in math class (or else is in remedial math), wears mismatching socks, carries all his books to class at once instead of using the locker, and of course is the slowest in gymn class.

A Side Story: When my mom was visiting, she reached for the soy sauce to pour all over her rice. We stopped her just in time, but she shot me an annoyed look and asked, "Why not?"

I am The Wierd Kid at Toba High School. I don't pick my nose in public. That's wierd. I don't know what sauce goes with which food. In fact, I was often annoyed in the beginning that they don't let you choose your favorite sauce - they give you the one called "okonomiyaki sauce" if you're eating okonomiyaki and "tacoyaki sauce" if you're eating tacoyaki. It took me a while to get in the habit of carrying around a little pencil bag for my most important belongings (pencils, pens, and flashcards of course) and I still forget to use the little piece of plastic they sell to go in between the pages of your notebook while you're writing (to provide a harder surface than the other pages of the notebook provide). I didn't know how to tie a tie when I got here. I tried to cross the street somewhere other than the sidewalk. They're still talking about that one - how I managed on my first day of school to summon the whole staff of teachers to yell at me and make angry motions that to me, held no meaning. That's wierd. I'm The Wierd Kid because sometimes I go to temples on my weekends. I carry a camera with me wherever I go, even to school and even when we just go out for dinner. I take pictures of street signs and trains and bicycles and vending machines and food. I have two holes punched neatly in each ear. I came to my first day of kendo practice with sparkling blue toenail polish on, applied by my eager little host sister. After that lecture, my host sister never touched my nails again. I can't read. In the beginning, I said wierd wierd things, sometimes rude, sometimes, in this culture, out of context, and sometimes just things that can't translate through our cultural differences.. I probably still do say wierd things, but at least whole conversations don't stop while everyone gapes at me and wonders how I could possibly have said such things.

Being an exchange student is wierd because products come in the wrong sized bottles and shapes. Because you can only buy one hairband at a time in the convenient store next door, and that one hairband costs nearly $1.80. Japanese cows don't say "Moooooo," they say "Mooeeeee." I don't even know how to write it, it's so wierd. (pronounced like the mo in Elmo and held out)

How can I make you understand what it's like to be an exchange student? I've never done anything like it before.