WHEN EAST MEETS WEST:
Commentary by Hank F. Miller Jr……Hank is a former resident of Gloucester City
I don\’t mind putting my foot in my mouth. That\’s one way to keep it clean. So here goes…
I say the trickiest adjustment to living in Japan is not learning to successfully miscommunication in Japanese…nor in developing disregard for the probing eyes and elbows of packed urban life…nor even in growing accustomed to eating food that sometimes looks like it might have already been eaten once by somebody else.
Nope. The hardest thing has been…those darn house slippers. Now, I do not have a foot fetish. I dwell on my feet no more than I do on my other body part-which is not so very often. If you know my body, you would surely understand. Yet I admit to being fond of my feet.
I have two, and both are svelte cuties compared with the hairy gunboats displayed by foreign friends. These feet have carried me without a complaint for well over half a century now, and I feel keenly attached to them both. In fact, the only times I have ever heard them scream in protest was when I inserted them into Japanese house slippers. The scream goes like this…\”CRAMP!\”
For no matter how svelte, my feet have ever had to put up with the heel of the slipper mashing into the arch or in the rare case of finding a slipper of acceptable size–of going with no arch support whatsoever.
Either way, they soon sing out in prolonged vibrato…\”CRAMP!\”
I am not against the idea of slippers per se. Taking off one\’s footwear when entering a home seems altogether reasonable and, through the years, I have learned to wear shoes that slip on and off easily–this unlike some people who always seem to need shoehorns, crowbars, instruction manuals and what not.
So as for slippers I shun them. So do my kids. In our family the only person who insists on being slippery is thus my Japanese wife Keiko.
Just watching her can make my feet hurt. The routine is always the same. She comes home from teaching at the local high school, removes and neatly arranges her shoes in our\”genkan,\”–\”entrance hall,\” then tugs her slippers. Next, she shuffles the 6 meters up the stairs to her mother\’s room–which is carpeted. Steps from her slippers and enters the room in her stockings to greet her mother.
Recently though my wife has joined the kids and I, and now has gone slipper less occasionally. Another surprise is the only people who wear the slippers we have waiting on a special slipper rack, just inside the front door are the adult students all the kids we teach go without slippers. Thus they say gives them a sense of being in a completely American home and surroundings.
Because they think that we Americans also remove our shoes.
I explained that in the States many people wear their shoes in their homes, but there are many also who do remove their shoes because it keeps the carpets cleaner.
My feet feel great. My brain, however, locks up tight. But this will occur only away from home. For in my own house, I touch slippers for one purpose–which seems to be the best reason for having them around. Nothing, you see, can smash a cockroach quite like a slipper especially if you crank your delivery.\”
\”I\’m home!\”My wife will call from the entranceway–to be followed by the sound\”slap, plop, squish, plop.\” \”Something\’s wrong with one of my slippers!\”
\”That\’s funny,\” I will call back, flexing my wrist.\”A minute ago it worked just fine.\”
Warm Regards from Kitakyushu City, Japan
Hank & Keiko, the Miller Family
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