It's quite interesting when a little old Japanese man comes to your door and starts blabbering on in Japanese while holding a pamphlet, and I'm like, "Uh...sou desu ka?" He has good intentions, I'm sure (even though I could only make out the "Jesus Christ" from his initial shpeal) but I already go to a baptist church an hour drive southwest. After handing me the pamphlet he was holding, finally understanding that I spoke English and very little Japanese, he suggested that I try and read it, and then, with a couple of bows and a "yoroshiku onegaishimasu!", he turned and left.
This isn't the first encounter I've had with Japanese Jehovah witness. The first time was in Spring, I believe, and the lady very kindly used what very few English words she knew to try and explain what she was giving. I really appreciated the effort. It's more than what my students do. The little old man, however, once he had figured out that I couldn't speak Japanese from the blank look on my face, seemed to want to get out of there as soon as possible. I might have scared him a little. I can't help it with my big foreigner's eyes, white skin, and tall nose. I wouldn't blame him if he was really that shocked, but he kept a nice smile on his face and kind voice.
So today, when I was supposed to be relaxing in the quiet confines of my apartment, had once again experienced one of those lost in translation moments. Most of the time, it's frustrating not being able to understand people, especially when they're talking about me, but this one time not being able to speak the language worked in my favour. I was too tired from work to listen to him anyway, had I been able to understand perfect Japanese.