Good Gaijin, You Get a Biscuit!

I've always considered language to be a friend of mine -- the kind of friend I can depend upon to help with any problem I might have so long as it doesn't involve any physical labor or effort (so, y'know, like the rest of my friends). In my day, I've received a fair amount of praise for my ability to use language, be it for a joke about video games, my master's thesis, video game-related puns, or witty bon mots built on clever, insightful cultural references that I stole from Mystery Science Theatre 3000. All of which has left me totally unprepared for the non-stop praise-fest that has taken up the last few months.

Whenever I manage to spit out a four-word-sentence or two in a restaurant or shop -- even if all I manage to say is "ramen, please" and "arigato gozaimasu" -- 50% of the time I am met with a huge smile and an enthusiastic "Aaa~, nihongo ga zyoozu desu nee!" (translated: "Oh, you are good at Japanese!").

I really had no illusions when it came to my Japanese abilities; I really didn't remember much from my university classes, just enough to apologize seven different ways (all covered in Unit 1, Chapter 1, Book 1...seriously). And I really didn't expect mangled repetitions of stock phrases to be worthy of applause. I've enjoyed the attention, definitely, but it's starting to wear thinner the longer I'm here. At my bitterest moments (7:15-8:30 a.m. daily), it comes off as a little too patronizing.

"Oh my gosh, you actually can say something in Japanese! What are the odds?"
"Oh wow, look at you! You dressed yourself this morning, with a tie and everything!"
"You finished your lunch, yes you did! Who's a good boy? Whosabujabububu?"

I have nothing to compare these experiences to except my time in Europe, where the reactions to my well-meaning, incompetent attempts at speaking the native language met vastly different results:

Sweden: "I have no idea what you just said. I'll just respond in my perfect, accentless English so we can get this over with already."
France: "Your cretinous bungling of my beautiful language makes me weep. And spit."
Belgium: "So what, you're just assuming I'm French? Pah!"
The Netherlands: "Actually, it's 'Can you direct my girlfriend and me to the train station?' Are you sure English is your native language?"

I'm sure other gaijin can relate: no matter how long you've been here, no matter how many amazing cultural experiences you've had, no matter how well you've mastered the local language and etiquette, people will always assume that you're a drooling, cowboy-hat-wearing simpleton who can't use chopsticks.

At the end of the day, I guess I'm glad that I can help people revise their opinions of foreigners. I felt the same way when I was studying in Sweden every time I went through a full day without invading and occupying another country. Barack Obama, you may not be impressing many conservatives with this little number...

...but I'll bet it impressed the hell out of every Japanese person present. I mean, he knows something about Japan! He bent slightly without falling over (or throwing up on anyone...we haven't given them very high expectations, honestly)!