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| 30/07/1992 |
| A BOUQUET OF CARROTS |
THE FIRST OF THREE ESSAYS ON JAPAN, FOLLOWING A VISIT IN 1991.
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| It had been my first visit to Japan. As I entered the immigration area at Japan’s new and controversial Narita airport (the displaced farmers had a case; who needs furrows of tarmac instead of green fields in this environmental age?), the first sign that riveted my attention was the bright red circle on the floor. It looked as if the round red sun – the very symbol of Japan – had fallen off the national flag. The spot marked the placed where an incoming persons, after he had followed the queue ropes which led upto the immigration booth, was expected to stand and wait his turn. There were no instructions, no signs in any language; simply that vivid circle cautioning you against putting a foot wrong now that you were on Japanese soil. |
| To visit Japan without any preparation, as many do or without any familiarity with its culture, its culture, its historical traditions and the currency of its modern society, is to put yourself entirely at the mercy of the Japanese. And that can be risky, for the Japanese can be charming companions, delightful hosts, smiling negotiators, dutiful children, responsible parents, respectful to their elders, but they are unmerciful as a race. At some segment of time in the 1400 year long scroll of their history, they were like other Orientals perhaps. They are not so now. [EXTRACT] |
Published in THE NATION 30 July 1992, and reprinted in THE ARMLESS QUEEN (1994). |
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| 30 July 1992 |
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| All Articles |
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