Careful What You Give

Riding the Shinkansen (bullet train) headed west today, I met the delightful couple pictured above. Despite no Japanese on my part and minimal English on theirs, we managed to converse for several hours as our train sped across Honshu. I pulled out my laptop with the intention of showing them a couple of pictures of Smithers. We ended up going through half of my iPhoto library. They were quite impressed that Haleigh played hockey. They also agreed that I have a wonderful family and a very beautiful girlfriend (damn straight).

By the end of our short time on the train together, I felt like these were old friends. They typified the warm, kind, and interested nature of the Japanese people. We’ve all heard it a million times, but it is amazing how much of communication is non-verbal. Half the time, we were floundering with words, but the smiles and laughs got across the real point.

I had brought a few things with me to give as gifts and I wanted to share with these folks as thanks for the time we’d spent together. But I knew of the Japanese culture of reciprocity when it comes to gifts and I did not want to create a situation where they felt obligated to give something in return. So I secretly extracted a small bottle both of Crown Royal and maple syrup from my suitcase and awaited our arrival at their station.

As we neared the station, we began to say our goodbyes. They warmly shook my hand and thanked me profusely for the great trip. At what I thought was the last minute, I quickly handed them the very small gifts, repeated my thanks for the wonderful trip, and tried to open the way for them to exit. How naive.

With the stealth and speed of a ninja, the man opened his wallet, pulled out a 10,000 yen ($100 CDN) bill, and deftly deposited it into my pocket. This was exactly what I did not want to happen. I tried to resist and return the money, telling them that their gift to me had been the conversation and time together. They would have none of it. As one who’s intimately familiar with dogged stubbornness, I could see what I was up against. From the look on their faces as I tried to insist on returning the money, you would have thought I was holding a gun to their child’s head.

Knowing that, at this point, to further refuse would have been futile and insulting, I had no choice but to relent. They each shook my hand about 20 more times and repeated thanks constantly until the train stopped. As they were milling out, they turned with every step to wave back to me. Once off the train, they came back to the window and waved to me furiously until the car pulled me out of sight.

I felt horrible that I had created a situation where they felt it necessary to reply with a truly inordinate return gift. But it was clear that this experience had made their day. I still feel bad and I wish that they could have accepted my very simple gifts. But I guess that they wouldn’t have offered such an exorbitant gift in return if they couldn’t afford it. And the exchange of gifts raised the level of our shared experience to something that fell within their own culture and tradition. All I can do is pass on the story of these people’s incredible kindness, openness, and generosity. They are the epitome of the unique warmth and kindness of the Japanese people.