I think it’s fascinating that wherever I go in the world (not counting Asian countries or the U.S.), most street vendors assume I am Japanese and call out Japanese phrases to me.  It’s not because I look Japanese or dress Japanese (very far from it), but because Japanese tourists seem to have been EVERYWHERE.  I haven’t traveled to too many countries but in Italy, Belgium, France, TURKEY, and Mexico, someone somewhere on the street will call out to me in Japanese.  It’s usually just “konichiwa” or “ohio” but sometimes it’s complete phrases.  Sometimes people try to start a conversation with me in Japanese!  I was in Italy and a young man in the clothing store told us in Japanese that there were more men’s clothing upstairs.  It’s not like it was a dodgy old fruit stand peddler who was stuck in WWII days.  And then he was really surprised when we told him we spoke English.

When I was visiting schools in Turkey, the kids would run up to me and ask, “Japon?  Japon?”

Someone needs to applaud the Japanese tourism industry because it’s done a heck of a job taking Japanese tourists to all corners of the globe.

Sanky says that Japanese tourists are found in even the most remote villages.  The husband hypothesizes that the Japanese are the first Asians to have enough money to start participating in world travel and tourism and so most tourist places cater to that.  Sanky says the Japanese value traveling more and it’s one of their few forms of leisure.

The first night in Playa del Carmen, we heard several shouts of Japanese directed towards us as we walked along 5th Avenue.  But after a day on the beach, we were both about 5 shades darker and the second night we walked to dinner, we no longer got the Japanese greetings– as if no self-respecting Japanese woman would let herself get so tan.  I think towards the end of the trip, some of the waiters we encountered considered giving us Spanish menus.  Especially because we tried some local restaurants off the beaten path where not many tourists ventured.  I’m not even joking.

All joking aside, I really am pretty dark.  My mom’s not going to be happy about this.

I just hope this doesn’t mean I have to drink more freckle juice every day.

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We watched the end of Federer vs. Nadal in the Cancun airport (in BerryHill of all places) and it was a lot of fun to cheer for Nadal with the rest of the Spanish tourists.  The husband, however, was cheering for Federer and was pretty disapponted that he lost.  But even he admitted that it’s a bit much for Federer to put on his preppy sweater right after a long, sweaty match.

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Last Modified : July 21st, 2008 Filed under : Sports/Games, Travelbug Navigate : Previous post / Next post