Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Yatta! (I did it!)

Going to the doctor whether sick or well, even in the States, has never been a fun task for me. But going to the doctor in Japan is mendoukusai (a downright pain). Since making the decision to switch from an English-speaking-yet-condescending doctor to a Japanese-speaking-yet-kind one, I've been more inclined to go to the doctor when I'm sick. However, it usually requires that I take someone with me to serve as my translator, which is not an easy thing to do. So early last week, when I needed to go to the eye clinic in order replacement contact lenses, I thought that since I was healthy, I might be mentally with-it enough to manage on my own. My Japanese proficieincy is still low. But I know how to say, "up, down, left, right" -- the only words necessary to take a Japanese eye test. I can say how many boxes of lenses I want to order for each eye. And I can discern the gist of many conversations based on situational clues, even if I don't actually understand the words that are being said. Not the best language skill set to have for seeing a doctor on one's own; but you do what you gotta do.

But as I was driving my scooter to the clinic, I began to think about how presumptuous I was going to appear. I had two boxes from my old contact lenses and my glasses with me so that they would know what my prescriptions were the last time I had my vision checked. And I knew that I planned to speak as much Japanese as possible. But I hadn’t thought about how the appearance of my translator-less self (when I’ve always had a translator for previous visits) might set things off on the wrong foot. And how horrible would it be if I had to stop the technician in the midst of our “conversation” to call a co-worker and have her translate for me via keitai (cell phone). I made plenty of mistakes in communicating with the technicians, including mishearing the name that was called and presenting myself as Kikuchi-san. And because the technician either was frustrated with my low Japanese level or was kind, the doctor whom I saw later immediately spoke with me in English, which I simultaneously appreciated and disliked. 

If this situation were reversed and a non-English-speaking Japanese woman were to go to the eye doctor in the U.S. without a translator, I know that she would not be treated with nearly as much gentleness as I received at the clinic. Living in Japan these past 16 months has been quite challenging. There are things here that frustrate me on a regular basis. And Japanese people have faults just as Americans have. Yet the value that is placed on politeness here will be a practice I miss greatly whenever I return to the States. In that area as well as in as-of-yet unconsidered areas, I know my reverse culture stress will be great.

Until next time…

1 comment:

Mom said...

Looking for where the opening is in the eye chart must be more difficult than trying to read our alphabet through a reverse-image mirror from a distance of 15 or 20 feet. And then to add a foreign language on top of it is more taxing than this brain could take in one session. Your sense of adventure certainly is providing you a wealth of experiences.