Magically Entering a Parallel Universe

My only excursions to Asia were to China in 2008 and Japan earlier this year. (Let’s ignore a few airports whilst in transit to and from Australia). As a European, being in Asia is an experience like no other. It’s like being in a parallel universe.

I’ve joked before that it’s like being on a different planet, which is not accurate.  It’s closer to a parallel universe, as one of my traveller friends noted, because the difference is more subtle.

I’ve also written about a spiritual experience in a Japanese temple.

First, there is the fact that many things are similar especially in the larger cities. We can talk about the merits of the Indian driving style but, in fairness, you can find poor driving in many European countries too. (Ever driven in rush-hour traffic in Brussels?)

The most noticeable difference is the signage. Unlike being in most places in Europe, there is no alphabet that is familiar to you. Tourists in Spain can carefully decipher ‘Deténgase’ if they need to but trying to match patterns that are cryptic is not as easy. I find that this contributes to a sense of being rudderless even if it is not as bad as it may seem. (It didn’t take me long to figure out what the Japanese kanji symbol for ‘Exit’ was; but seeing a box on stilts didn’t help me when I first saw it)

A photo of another part of the Temple - Osaka, Japan

So there I was, surrounded by shops that I knew, selling items I could recognise. But everything had different labels.

I was in a parallel universe.

Then you spend time doing normal things in a normal way, just as you would back home and you begin to develop a false sense of security. ‘I can buy coffee in the same way I do at home,’ you say to yourself. Sure, you may not be able to explain to order a double-mocha skinny latte but, hey, it’s just like being in any other foreign country, right?

Until you start to worry about local customs.

In the queue at a coffee shop, I handed over a few coins to the cashier and deposited them into her hand. Quick as a flash, she dropped them into a small tray which was on the counter for this purpose alone and then swiftly picked them up from there. I wondered if I should have put the coins in the tray myself. Is it perhaps a custom based on hygiene; you avoid contact with people so there’s less chance of infection perhaps? Will they have to take the cashier out back and hose her down because I touched her hand?

A photo of a statue in a Buddhist Temple - Osaka, Japan

And what should I do about tipping? I hadn’t thought to check this simple ritual before leaving. Seated on a wooden bench in a dive bar, kneecaps around my ears, trying to digest noodles with some unspecified white meat, I wished I had. It turns out that the Japanese don’t tip, so I needn’t have worried too much.

I also found myself in awkward situations. Once I tried to politely refuse a traditional breakfast which I couldn’t face that early in the morning. The people in the restaurant were so happy to serve a foreigner (I was the only non-Japanese person in a 100-odd group that morning). They were so obviously proud at being able to offer traditional Japanese food and hospitality that I felt I could not refuse. But I also felt that eating a few mushy olives, what looked like a goldfish with ideas above its station and a few strips of vegetable or fruit or animal would be too much.

As I prepared to board my plane home, I realised that what makes Asia a parallel universe is the way people behave. It is their customs, their attitudes and the way they live their life that is so foreign to us. You can find unusual foods anywhere in any country (The French eat snails, the Maltese eat horses, etc.) You can find signs and posters about weird TV shows or characters in any country.

But when people act around you in an unexpected manner, that’s when you feel you’ve crossed over.

What do you think about travelling in foreign countries?