People everywhere will tell you that moving to another country for any length of time is one of the most difficult things that someone can do in their life. While this may be true for some people, many others can find the experience to be incredibly enjoyable. That said, regardless of whether someone pulls up roots to live and work in another country temporarily, or for the rest of their lives, small changes begin to appear in their behavior. Some of these changes are positive and some less so. But the end result is the same: living and working in a foreign environment will change us.

Of course, this isn’t something we should be worried about. Instead, it gives us an opportunity to reflect on who we were and compare that with who we are now. From here, we may be in a better position to make decisions that could have a lasting effect on our lives, such as moving back home, buying a house, or having children.

This is the subject that Danielle over at Narrative Disorder is asking with this month’s Japan Blog Matsuri. I think it’s a great topic for discussion because it seems that very few of the people I’ve spoken to have taken the time to reflect on how their newly adopted homes have changed them, and weighed the pros and cons of the move. In my case, there are some key areas where I’ve noticed big changes in my life, but there may be quite a bit of overlap between the move to Japan and my still recent marriage.

Food, Health and Dimensions

Before moving to Japan, I weighed a hefty 97 Kg and had to suck my gut in just to put on a pair of 34” loose-cut jeans. While I was not big by Canadian standards, the story was quite different in Japan. To add to the embarrassment of being so large in a generally thin nation, moving through the tight spaces afforded in washrooms, office buildings, stores and restaurants required an awkward combination of balance, waist-sucking, elbow-watching, knee-bending and the occasional square-dance. No longer was it possible for me to just run in to a place and sit down. Instead, something as simple as using a public washroom required quick measuring, choreography, and planning.

Heaven forbid if I needed to use a squat toilet!

However, as the months wore on and I started to lose weight, moving around the confining quarters in this nation’s buildings became much easier. No longer would I jam my elbow into a wall while getting dressed. Gone were the days of hitting my head on the arch of a door frame. Instead, I had learned that my movements were poorly coordinated and very rough to begin with. While living in Canada, worrying about tight spaces was something I rarely ever gave a second thought to. For this reason, I never learned how to move through cramped quarters in an elegant or fluid fashion. Now, when I watch TV shows or movies from back home, I can see that North Americans are often wasteful with their movements, flailing their arms and legs to accomplish something which requires only a gentle bending of an elbow or twist of the wrist. While I have not yet become a person whose moves are so full of grace and eloquence that passersby stop to soak in the artistic beauty of the dance, I can certainly see why some Asians find it comical to watch foreign tourists navigate crowded shopping malls and train stations.

In addition to learning how to properly control my body, I’ve learned that it’s not quite as young as it once was. Since moving to the country, I have seen at least one medical practitioner a month. Dentists, cardiologists, urologists, general practitioners … I’ve seen them all, and they all tell me the same story: You’re almost 30, so stop treating your body like a machine. What I like about the doctors here is that, unlike the ones in Canada, they will not force every conceivable drug onto you with lengthy prescriptions that can quickly clean out even the best stocked pharmacies. Sure, it’s still possible to get stuck with a doctor that as sold out to a pharmaceutical company due to financial pressures or incentives but, for the most part, this does not seem to be a common trait with the practitioners in this area of the prefecture.

So, with the help of my ever-faithful wife, I’ve learned that I should eat better, look after minor aches and pains before they become full-blown problems, and pay more attention to the dimensions of objects in Japan. So far so good, right?

Isolation, Humble Pie and Lessons in Patience

As with anything, making a life-altering move is not always sugar cookies and rainbows. Since moving to Japan I have felt incredibly isolated from the world at large. Sure, Japan has some great internet technologies and a remarkable number of unrestricted wireless access points at various locations around most major cities but, when everyone around you speaks in a language that you are not 100% fluent in, it can seem as though you’re excluded from the reality that surrounds you in addition to the standard distance that is often afforded to foreigners in any area with a major concentration of the native population. One saving grace, though, is that this isolation is not that different from what I had enjoyed while living in Canada.

I would often exclude myself from group events while growing up, preferring to bury myself in a book or some other hobby. This wasn’t because I hated people, per se, but because I felt more comfortable on my own than surrounded by others with their own agendas. Although I had (mostly) grown out of this by the time I reached my 20s, I continued to find comfort in isolation. This became incredibly clear when two people at my last place of work told me so. In one particular case, my boss had said “You’ll feel really alone in Japan if there aren’t any other white people … but I guess you prefer to be alone.”

The comment really struck me because it was at that time that I learned that 26+ years of occasional personal relationships seemed like preparation for the possible isolation I would feel in this country. However, rather than being resigned to the notion of sticking out like a flare in a desert of similar people, the idea helped me accept the fact that perhaps fate had designed my path to be just what it was.

Within days of landing in Japan, the quest for steady employment had started. I had visited several companies and spoken to several people in an attempt to find something within the computer field. Unfortunately, this was not something that seemed possible in the Nagoya area, and I was not willing to move to the sprawling international metropolis that is Tokyo. Instead, I decided to do the one thing that I had tried hardest to avoid, and work at a language company. While it was not the dream job I was hoping to land, it has certainly opened up doors to other venues that may not have been possible without first meeting the people that I would soon work with.

So, within a month of working full time, the routine became a standard and I started to find areas that I could exploit. I’ve never enjoyed being low-man on the totem pole and advancing in my career, regardless the field, has always been a top priority everywhere I’ve worked. That said, Japanese companies are nothing like the places I had worked in Canada, and a very strict protocol must be followed. While there is some leeway at my place of work due to the number of foreigners, it is still a Japanese company. This means rules must be followed.

What has this taught me about me? It’s taught me that I can appear patient while also chomping madly at the bit. Patience is certainly a virtue, and I can wait with the best of them. The things I want today will still be there tomorrow, and needs must be given priority over wants. While it’s not always easy to be a patient person, the potential rewards are too great to ignore.

The Icing on the Cake

So just how much have I learned about myself since moving here? I’ve learned that I can eat just about anything, so long as it’s not covered in grease. I’ve learned that swearing is really pointless when nobody understands the context or the content of the words. Getting angry at people is equally pointless when nobody will care to understand why you’re angry. I’ve learned that I’m better at asking forgiveness than asking permission when it comes to accomplishing tasks without the Japanese language skills of my wife. I’ve learned that the things I want are really just over-priced things that I could have had in Canada for half the cost. I’ve learned that I prefer cold coffee over copious amounts of the (usually) boiling drink. I’ve learned that I am very forgetful when thinking about more than three big things at a time. I’ve learned that I have a new-found fear of tight spaces, yet there were never any signs of claustrophobia in Canada. And, perhaps most importantly, I’ve learned that it doesn’t matter how isolated I may feel while living in this country, because I am good at being alone … even in a crowded train.

That’s what Japan has taught me about me.

Have you ever moved to another country or place far from home? What did you learn about yourself while acclimating to the foreign environment? I’d love to hear your thoughts.