February 12, 2009

One of the things I remember most vividly from Japan was a scene during an extremely busy rush hour after work (in the evening) on the subway. The crowd in the subway was literally a crush. I had to move my backpack from back to front to create more room for others and could barely move. Then the door on the other side from me opened. I could hardly believe what ensued. The Japanese carefully and efficiently moved as one unit, as if in a ballet. They moved towards and out of the door as one person, no one screaming, no one being hurt, they just moved together. They moved with grace as one.

I did not use a subway in the Philippines. What struck me there was the riot of color everywhere. On the people, in nature, in the food. The people were mostly polite, to the point where I began to wonder if it was courtesty or a remnant of colonialization. Some of the young ones were rude, but I think that had to do with their frustration at being in poverty. One kid gave me the finger when I wouldn't turn over my newly purchased slice of pineapple to him. I got so sick of being called ma'am. It felt like either I was being patronized or I was patronizing.