Understanding Humanity: A Trip to Japan

Written and photographed by Emerson Lam

Personally, I find it difficult to come up with conversation starters, and I’m sure many of you would agree. When it’s so much easier to be in your own zone and chronically online, there simply might not be a need to make conversation anymore. I’ve had this mindset most of my life, until two key interactions on my graduation trip to Japan that ultimately changed my viewpoint.  

Travelling to Shikoku, a secluded island far from Japan’s tourist hotspots, our ragtag group ended up in the town of Kochi. Although the town itself was considered large for the island, the absence of tourists meant that even the shopping streets intended for flocks of visitors were left barebone, only occasionally visited by a few. It was here that I found myself exhausted and wandering aimlessly, hunched over from the weight of my backpack with my spirit cracked from the countless long train rides I had taken.  

I walked a few streets past what was meant to be the tourist ‘hotspot’  and one place caught my eye: a printing shop, staffed by an old man and his little cat. Seeing this animal, I mustered up the courage to ask in my broken, google-translated Japanese, “Neko wa nan-saidesu ka (How old is the cat)”?  

The man smiled at me and replied in his own broken English, “six tsuki (month).”  

I was really happy to strike up a conversation with a local, so I proceeded to ask him if I could pet the kitten.  

Although he obliged, the kitten did not, trying to scurry away from the owner’s grip. I could only laugh as he picked it back up and proceeded to talk to me about his printing shop and the cat. Unfortunately, the conversation couldn’t go far with our limited grasp of each other’s languages. And, as another Japanese customer came up to him, seeming to ask about more legitimate matters, I took my leave. 

Later that night I got hungry, and I found myself craving skewers, so I took the short walk in the drizzling rain to the restaurant down the road. As I entered, my ears were greeted by the tunes of loud Japanese music, the clanking of glasses, and cheers from the other diners.  

I sat down at the counter and started to order. Unlike other restaurants I’d been to, this eatery had a physical menu, making it easy to order by pointing at the dishes, while adding in the few Japanese phrases I had learned on Duolingo. After ordering, the lady at the counter started talking to me through Google Translate, asking politely: “Where are you from?”  

“Hong Kong,” I replied through my phone, pointing at the text while saying “Sugoi (great)!” trying to tell her that I thought Hong Kong was a great place.  

She laughed then asked me what I was doing in Shikoku. I gave her a brief response about my graduation trip and eventually ended the conversation by talking about my positive impressions of Kochi. Even as I ate the freshly made skewers, I tried my best to be polite by giving positive comments about the food, which didn’t quite fill me up but was fantastic for the price.  

As I paid the bill and left the restaurant to do laundry, I felt giddy and positive, just like how a child would feel after going to the theme park. The fact that I could talk to these total strangers, interacting with those I normally wouldn’t, felt like such a gigantic personal leap. The social anxiety that often clouds my world faded away, making way for discussions I would have never expected to have with the locals I met.  

It was this very mindset that carried me through fresher’s week, and my first gruelling month in a new country and environment. Small talk, as difficult as it might sometimes feel, can lead you to a conversation with someone you’d never expect. Start the conversation by asking what someone loves and hates, their interests and ‘icks’, then continue from there. By connecting with others indiscovering their quirks, the encounter may end up feeling like a reunion with an old friend, or a fruitful conversation where you discover something new about each other. These conversations just might be the cause of a cherished core memory.  

So, go out there and talk to others. It’ll be much easier once you start. 

Emerson explores how 2 chance encounters experienced abroad heped him overcome social anxiety and embrace the art of small talk.

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