While waiting for a latte at one of my favorite coffee stops, (Rembrandt’s) a group of four Japanese men stepped up to order four coffees. Not lattes or caramel mochachinos. Just coffee.
And they were gleeful about it.
They had just “Seen Rock City – High Atop Lookout Mountain”, as the phrase goes, and had spotted an online recommendation somewhere for Rembrandt’s. They were loaded with handheld digital devices and were taking photos of everything and everyone, including me as I walked out to the patio. I bet they’ll frame that one.
One of them did something very typically Japanese and asked the cashier for a business card with the address on it. “Anything with the address. You can just write it down on something,” he clarified.
In Japan a business card is called a meishi (名刺?) and it’s a big deal with a lot of rules, as articulated in Wikipedia:
The presentation of one’s meishi to another person is more formal and ritualistic than in the Western world. The card should be held at the bottom two corners, face up and turned so that it can be read by the person receiving the meishi, who takes it by the top two corners using both hands. Placing one’s fingers over the name or other information is considered rude. Upon receiving the meishi, one is expected to read the card over, noting the person’s name and rank. One should then thank the other person, saying “choudai itashimasu” or “choudai shimasu”, and then bow.[4] When meishi are being exchanged between parties with different status, such as between the president of a company and someone in middle management, it is proper that the person of lower status extend his or her business card in such a way that it is underneath or below the meishi being extended by the person in a higher position.
Meishi should be kept in a smart leather case where they will not become warm or worn, both of which are considered a sign of disrespect or thoughtlessness. A received meishi should not be written on or placed in a pocket; it is considered proper to file the meishi at the rear of the leather case. If the meishi is being presented at a table, the recipient keeps the meishi on top of the leather case until they leave the table. If several people are involved in the meeting and one receives several meishi, the one with the highest rank is kept on the leather case, and the others beside it, on the table.
Think of them as culturally enshrined, personal baseball cards. They are fun to collect. Proof that you were actually there. Like an Instagram that you can’t Photoshop. Real. A memory in physical form. In fact, how you treat someone’s meishi indicates how you treat them.
The manner in which the recipient treats the presenter’s meishi is indicative of how the recipient will treat the presenter. Actions such as folding the card in half, or placing the presenter’s meishi in one’s back pocket, are regarded as insults.
This kind of mini cultural exchange happens a lot in Chattanooga, which, because of a 40’s song and a barn-top advertising campaign is surprisingly famous. I don’t even have to travel to see tourists from all over the world seeing my world for the first time.
A family is taking a group vacation picture on the patio as I write. Excuse me. I have to stop and take a photo for them.
1-2-3- Cheeeese.
Jokes all around. I’m smiling and I’m not even on vacation.
The most interesting thing is how my regular java stop looks to these people. It’s an amazing vacation stop, in the art district, next to the river, on a magical fall afternoon, with Russian tea cookies. It is a foreign country, mysterious in its customs. Until I saw their viewpoint, it looked to me like a Friday.
Now, it’s better.
What we see all the time, we don’t see at all . . . unless . . .
Through borrowed eyes I was able to see this place for what it really is. And it is great. It would be a shame if I never saw it.
It’s the same as watching a puppy see his first snow. Or a baby taking first steps. Through their wide eyes we get to see the glory of the world as it really is. Magic!
My fondest wish is that I never stop seeing the world as a tourist.
Because we’re all just passing through.
