PDAs in Japan

Photo Dreamwhile

One sultry evening at the Kashiwa summer festival, I noticed an older woman, her silver hair done up with hair ornaments and her stooping frame snuggly wrapped in a flowery pink yukata. Next to her was a man of the same age in jimbei suit and sandals. They were standing close as they watched the taiko drum performance, giggling and remarking on the powerful beat, and then they suddenly smooched! Not just a little peck, but full on lip lock. Behind me, a middle-aged woman remarked to her husband, “Wow, that’s real affection! How about we do that sometimes?”, but the response was a chuckle and bashful looks. It seems that in Japan only when you get old can you make public displays of affection.

Sometimes at festivals, and on the trains, or out shopping, I see elderly people holding hands, or arm in arm. I must admit, I eavesdrop, and for the most part, it isn’t as though one or the other is so infirm that they need to be physically supported. It appears to be an expression of affection most of the time. Good on you, obaachans and ojiichans!

In the 20 years I’ve been in Japan, I’ve noticed that the culture is slowly changing, and that younger couples are comfortable with hugs and hand holding in public, but still, I seldom see people kissing in public on meeting or parting. Instead, you’ll hear a lot of verbal substitutes for affection. And you don’t hear people declare their love either, like some western people do. Instead of “I love you”, I hear “Be careful”, or “See you again soon”.

I’m okay with not hugging people on meeting or parting. But embraces took me a bit of getting used to. I’m a second-generation kid brought up in Canada by a multicultural family, and the first-generation grandparents had different attitudes about physical space. The continental Europeans and South Americans in my mother’s family were much more touchy than my Scottish grandparents. One point of cultural collision was being told by my Glasgow-born grandparents that, when I hit my teens, I was too old to be hugged anymore. I had to straddle a bit of a cultural divide when visiting with my two sets of grandparents, though they lived within a few blocks of each other in our Vancouver neighborhood.

As a result of constantly switching these cultural codes, I have learned to wait for the other party to initiate a hug. In my daily life, I interact with a lot of visitors from abroad who bring their own customs to my social circle. One thing I haven’t gotten used to is the kiss on the cheek, sometimes both cheeks, that some visitors from Eastern Europe and South America do. But then, many of them are not used to bowing on greeting. Awkward moments will happen. I figure, just smile, relax and don’t worry too much about it.

My guy and I when out in public have had some funny encounters. It happens when I lag behind him, or when we stand a little apart. People around us, in shops and businesses or on the train, fail to recognize that we’re a couple. Perhaps they can’t imagine a middle-aged foreign woman is with a Japanese man. He occasionally has to correct people, “No, a table for two”, or usher me closer so people don’t stand between us on the train. So we’ve learned to strategically hold hands or I slip my arm under his when we're in crowded places.

A nice smooch in the open air is lovely. When nobody's looking.