27 YEARS IN JAPAN - HALF A LIFETIME

This month marks 27 years since I set foot in Japan, together with my Japanese wife, to make a fresh start in a country that I knew little about, and where I had merely spent a few weeks previously while on holiday.

I thought that I would use this occasion to start a blog to share my experiences of living in this fascinating - and sometimes confusing - country. It might seem an odd decision to pick the 27-year anniversary, but in a sense, it's kind of a logical choice.

Because you see, I have reached the momentous milestone of having spent exactly as many years in Japan as I have spent living in my native country. 27 years each - with one more year having lived in the UK. Anyone reasonably good at maths will easily realise that this reveals my age: 55.

While 55 is not generally considered a milestone birthday, I believe it still marks a significant point in one's life: Still firmly in middle-adulthood (which I'm told ranges from ages 40 to 65), yet retirement suddenly appearing a lot closer!

Many of us at this age think it may be a good time to start ticking off items on their bucket list: Go skydiving, paragliding or bungee jumping. Fly in a hot air balloon. Run a marathon. Try scuba diving or go sailing.

Or start a blog.

It may not be quite as exhilarating, but undoubtedly also fraught with much less danger or risk of injury. And certainly cheaper than many of the above mentioned activities, too...

And if it has been a long-held ambition to turn a passion for writing into something that can be shared with other people, but everyday life always felt too hectic, then now may be as good a time as any to actually start.

So let me tell you a little bit more about myself: I was born in Switzerland. Mind you, not the Scandinavian country starting with the same two letters and often causing confusion. I have lost count of how many times people (not necessarily Japanese, though, as they generally tend to have a rather good grasp of world geography) thought that I'm Swedish...

No, I mean the small land-locked country surrounded by Germany, Austria, Liechtenstein, Italy and France. The one with the Alps (although Switzerland can't claim them outright and in fact - which may surprise you - only hosts a minor portion). Famous for cheese and chocolate. And famed for its financial institutions, although they are by far not as stable anymore as they used to be.

I grew up in a village about 20 kilometres from the financial hub Zurich (and before you ask: while it's the most populous city in the country, it's not the capital), with no more than 800 souls at the time, two restaurants and two tiny grocery shops.

Now I live in the world's largest metropolitan area with around 38 million people. The contrast could hardly be bigger!

Mind you, the population of the village where I spent most of my childhood, has meanwhile swelled to 2,500 inhabitants, thus more than tripling its size over the past 50 odd years, with some of its growth stemming from people moving out of the city, and some from immigration. Nowadays the village sports a foreign population of almost 22%, compared to the ratio of foreign nationals in Tokyo, which is a mere 4%!

It is therefore fair to say that I'm a minority here. Maybe less so than when I arrived in Japan all those years ago, when the majority of foreigners one encountered were here purely for business purposes, and it felt like quite an event to run into another Westerner in the streets.

And with Japan having developed into a hot holiday destination in recent years (in contrast to the "exotic" and off-the-beaten-track destination it was 25 years ago) and attracting more foreign people to make it their permanent home, things have clearly changed, and life here has become more convenient over the years for the likes of me.

So it would be fair to expect that after having made this country my permanent home for 27 years, I know how things work here. And on most days you would be right in assuming that.

But then comes the inevitable moment where I'm as perplexed at a situation as if I had only just stepped off the plane yesterday, and when my Swiss mind cannot fathom why things are done here in the way they are, because it just doesn't make sense to me.

When I'm newly introduced to someone by a Japanese acquaintance, they often feel the need to add that I'm meanwhile just as Japanese as everyone actually born here. The reality is that this could not be further from the truth. I guess that if you don't have the specific genes that make up a Japanese person, you don't stand much of a chance of becoming one, not even if you decide to obtain Japanese nationality (which I never did). And even if you had completely internalised Japanese attitudes and behaviours, as a Westerner, your looks would always still be a dead giveaway...

This country charms you with its unique culture and lulls you into a false sense of comfort, making you believe that by now you have figured it all out and are well ahead of all those foreigners that have arrived well after you, only to trip you up when you least expect it.

Culture shock is often misunderstood. It's not just the short-term feeling you experience when first setting foot in a foreign country, and which one would expect. But it's also the moments that suddenly hit you out of the blue and after years of living in a country, making you go "Huh?". Japan is very good at catching you out like that.

Life never gets boring here, because the country keeps surprising you - and confusing you. It makes for an interesting - and often amusing - life.

So I invite you to join me on this rollercoaster of emotions and surprises. Buckle up and enjoy the ride!