WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO BE CIVILIZED?

(The photo is of the faucet in our onsen hotel. The black thing moves to make the water flow change from ordinary to strong to shower. The sink itself is square. It was the splashiest sink I’d ever used, no matter what kind of water flow I chose. Yet I think that they chose this type of faucet and sink, among other things, to signal that they, the designers, are civilized.)

Recently my husband and I went on a one-night onsen holiday. The main attraction for me was that it had a sandy beach and view of the ocean nearby. In fact the place was called “Sunset Beach”. The place where we stayed was one of those multi-story hotel-type things with beds, not futon, and a buffet dinner and breakfast. It was hot, of course, until evening when the tyrannous sun disappeared, mercifully, until tomorrow. And, equally of course, we went to the beach in the evening to watch the sunset. We had been there before, in the fall, and the sun set in a very different place from the last time, which was interesting. Another big difference from the last time was that it was still warm enough to get in the water after the sun went down.

So I did, even though my 70-year-old body didn’t particularly relish the feisty waves and the sand that immediately filled the pockets of my swimwear. I got in because that’s what you do at the beach. You feel the water, either the small waves washing over your feet, or whole hog with your entire body. But no one else did (there weren’t many people there enjoying the sunset) – they just wandered over the sand, some courting couples and some with little kids. They weren’t dressed for it, the shop renting inflatable things and umbrellas was closed, and heaven forbid they should get in the water, even to their ankles, under such circumstances (no one else did except the goofy foreigner), even though it was cool, shady, and beautiful. The waves spilled me over in spite of my careful walk into the water, and I went from standing up to falling in with legs akimbo in a moment. This contretemps, however, left me laughing at the sheer strength and beauty of the waves, and I struggled toward my husband who sat, high and dry and decorous, on the sand.

Still chuckling, I laboriously began my trek to the car. I remembered a couple of other times when I was manifestly not dressed to go in the water and did so anyway. No power on earth can keep me from going into a large body of water near me even if it is unexpected or indecorous. We had a little argument about sand on the feet as we drove back to the hotel, and immediately (with time out for washing out sandy swimwear in the splashy sink) adjourned to the bath, which was lovely and not crowded (I saw only three other ladies), though the onsen water was very hot. There was sand on the floor of the entryway to our room all night, no matter how many times I wiped it, reminding me of my adventure.

I was surprised when said adventure was labeled “uncivilized” by my traveling companion. Sure I had broken a few of the Japanese rules: I didn’t do what everyone else did under those circumstances, which is apparently the mark of a truly civilized person. To look sideways toward other people to gauge whether your behavior matches that of everyone else – is that civilized behavior? Who made those other people, who we will certainly never see again, the ultimate authority? I did not violate any of the universal rules of good citizenship – I didn’t spit or yell or pour sand on nearby people. The only thing I did was enter the water of the beach, I didn’t ask others to do what I did, and I was prepared to take the consequences of my actions – I didn’t go out to a dangerous place, I was only knee-deep the whole time, and I did wash my body and clothes when I got out. I had fun. True, I didn’t share this fun with anyone, but that is also my prerogative… no?

I have heard that the ultimate in civilized behavior is to think of what the other person may feel about what one is doing. In other words, to be aware of others. This is a laudable thing, I think, and leads to civilized behavior such as holding the door open, pushing the “open” button on the elevator so that others may enter, or giving up my seat in a public place so that a person whose need is greater than my own may sit down. Not to look around in judgement of other people, but to see what others may need and, if possible, provide it. This is truly civilized in my opinion.

Small “rules” (mostly unwritten) about what to wear and how to live are everywhere here, and it seems that there is a Pride that goes with being Japanese and Knowing How to Behave at all times. (Does anyone?) I remember about 30 years ago there were TV programs where panels of foreigners criticized Japanese behavior. That would never fly today. Every time a crime is committed, the perpetrator is “believed to be a foreign national”. The wheel has turned. I never liked those TV programs and I also dislike this automatic blaming of foreigners for every problem – not that it is limited to Japan, it seems to be everywhere these days.

It maybe that I chose the wrong place to live, if I don’t want to be judged by others. This is the Land of Judgement. The sidelong stare, meaning “You did wrong, according to us” is meant to keep people in line, and is based, apparently, on fear of ostracism, which is the ultimate no-no – being ousted from one’s group. I wonder if that really ever occurs. If you truly are aware of how others feel, how could you humiliate them in public? (Being aware, I now see, is not the same as caring.) Is the ostracism carried out, like the judgement, behind closed doors?

Is it a happier thing in life to be in a group, even if you have to obey at every turn, or to be an individual and not feel this constant pressure? Of course individuals have their own ways of curtailing behavior, be it religion, conscience, or other things.

It is easy to live here if you are a foreigner – as long as you “obey the rules” of taxes, trash collection, etc. I feel that if I obey a few rules of behavior in public, I can get away with behaving as I like in my own home (which is why I don’t often leave it). I don’t belong to any “group” and I judge my behavior as an individual. Others in the neighborhood may judge me, but this doesn’t really penetrate to my core. I feel sorry for those around me who are constantly on the watch to see whether they or others are “toeing the line”.

To people that feel their behavior is uncivilized, and are unhappy because of it, I say: The world is large. You don’t have to stay and succumb to these judgements. There is a universal morality which is the only real kind. Find it and let it guide you.