Chapter 6: The Delicate Feminity of Japanese Men and The Uncontained Overexcitement of Japanese Women
I am feeling better since work has formally started. I've befriended my neighbour and the people at work are slowly getting to know me. Japan is home now - with bills to pay, places to travel and toilet paper to buy.
One of the first things I noticed when I arrived in Japan was that most men carried handbags and purses. I was fascinated.
A man standing in a train, full black suit, crisp white shirt, tie-straightened and neat, black shoes-shined and polished. Hair sleeked back, a bulky shiny watch... and then: A matching handbag on arm and matching purse in hand. Fingernails cut, hands seemingly soft to touch and untouched by handywork. Does this man know of a screwdriver, hammer or changing a lightbulb?
Standing in supple feminity, a man could be a figurine. Unscathed from the rugged normative masculinity that the western world burdens upon the boys of this world. This a true man, I thought. Secure in his masculinity and unconsciously flaunting his feminity. I am jealous. I want to be well put together as this man was. It is official, I need a suit now!
I have not seen a man with his shirt untucked or slacks creased. Even in hells humidity, their shirt sleeves are folded up, their tie (probably) neatly folded in their handbag and a matching handtowel to dab away the condensed dew of sweat from their face. Still looking alive and ready for their day.
How are they like this? Why are they like this? I am surprised...moreover I am pleasantly surprised.
In contrast, I was in a bar a few nights ago and there was a woman with a boyfriend sitting next to me. They have been they a while...a lot longer than I was.
The barman in casual conversation breaks the ice between me and my, now, tequila consumed neighbours. The woman, she stands and turns to me with a smile accompanied with an overbearing drunken friendliness, although very sincere; A brief broken lingual exchange later, we both live in the same city, the man with her is her boyfriend, she is a host and I am now her friend - a terrible selfy taken as proof. I receive a gripping hug and Facebook/Line exchange. She is now my friend.
I have noticed that the women here are very straightforward and have a subtle ruggedness to complete their 90s inspired high fashion clothing style. Although, that may just be in Tokyo.
It seems like mothers here have come to know the hammer, the screwdriver and the lightbulb. They also have bicycles with kids' carseats on them ( sometimes the seat is on the front, or in the back or both). These women cycle with their offspring and their groceries; trudging up uphills, freewheeling down downhills. They have no limit and know no bounds to what they are able to do! Probably the freeest form of feminism in midst of an implied patriarchy. These women are strong and unrelentless in their womanhood. I could learn a few things.
However, somewhat intimidating.
Young adult women are slightly different and very friendly. They want your friendship, they call you cute, they talk to you if you break the ice ...and then they continue to talk and give countless hugs. Just smile and nod... you'll get through the conversation...eventually.
With that said, it is refreshing to observe such a kind, strange, weird and wonderful culture. I want to be part of it. I want to wear a suit with my matching handbag and hair sleeked back, while I am overbearing friendly giving tons of hugs.
What a strange combination of the delicate feminity of Japanese men and the uncontained overexcitement of Japanese women.
I am taken.
One of the first things I noticed when I arrived in Japan was that most men carried handbags and purses. I was fascinated.
A man standing in a train, full black suit, crisp white shirt, tie-straightened and neat, black shoes-shined and polished. Hair sleeked back, a bulky shiny watch... and then: A matching handbag on arm and matching purse in hand. Fingernails cut, hands seemingly soft to touch and untouched by handywork. Does this man know of a screwdriver, hammer or changing a lightbulb?
Standing in supple feminity, a man could be a figurine. Unscathed from the rugged normative masculinity that the western world burdens upon the boys of this world. This a true man, I thought. Secure in his masculinity and unconsciously flaunting his feminity. I am jealous. I want to be well put together as this man was. It is official, I need a suit now!
I have not seen a man with his shirt untucked or slacks creased. Even in hells humidity, their shirt sleeves are folded up, their tie (probably) neatly folded in their handbag and a matching handtowel to dab away the condensed dew of sweat from their face. Still looking alive and ready for their day.
How are they like this? Why are they like this? I am surprised...moreover I am pleasantly surprised.
In contrast, I was in a bar a few nights ago and there was a woman with a boyfriend sitting next to me. They have been they a while...a lot longer than I was.
The barman in casual conversation breaks the ice between me and my, now, tequila consumed neighbours. The woman, she stands and turns to me with a smile accompanied with an overbearing drunken friendliness, although very sincere; A brief broken lingual exchange later, we both live in the same city, the man with her is her boyfriend, she is a host and I am now her friend - a terrible selfy taken as proof. I receive a gripping hug and Facebook/Line exchange. She is now my friend.
I have noticed that the women here are very straightforward and have a subtle ruggedness to complete their 90s inspired high fashion clothing style. Although, that may just be in Tokyo.
It seems like mothers here have come to know the hammer, the screwdriver and the lightbulb. They also have bicycles with kids' carseats on them ( sometimes the seat is on the front, or in the back or both). These women cycle with their offspring and their groceries; trudging up uphills, freewheeling down downhills. They have no limit and know no bounds to what they are able to do! Probably the freeest form of feminism in midst of an implied patriarchy. These women are strong and unrelentless in their womanhood. I could learn a few things.
However, somewhat intimidating.
Young adult women are slightly different and very friendly. They want your friendship, they call you cute, they talk to you if you break the ice ...and then they continue to talk and give countless hugs. Just smile and nod... you'll get through the conversation...eventually.
With that said, it is refreshing to observe such a kind, strange, weird and wonderful culture. I want to be part of it. I want to wear a suit with my matching handbag and hair sleeked back, while I am overbearing friendly giving tons of hugs.
What a strange combination of the delicate feminity of Japanese men and the uncontained overexcitement of Japanese women.
I am taken.
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