Not Here, Not There: An Overseas Japanese Case

It does not happen often to me to  talk about life in a serious manner. Our future life. I had such a talk this time in Johor. He, who was born in India and moved to Singapore when he was still a young child, is the most important man who manages the dealings with my client, which is the parent company of his. I had met him in May when I got engaged for the same client. We were driving to a restaurant for dinner and I was sitting in the passenger seat. There seem to him three types of life for a man who is getting old, over 50. Some go into religion and others into charity. Yet another type goes to women. He says none of these seems attractive to him. I agreed. On religion, I said to him, “I don’t have to be religious to be nice,” just as I wrote some days ago. About myself, I told him in essence that I don’t feel settled down yet with nobody to live with. I’m worried thinking that there would be no one to find me if I suddenly collapse. And I have no place to belong to. More specifically, no Japanese comes near me when I’m drinking with friends or acquaintances, say, from Singapore or England. What’s the point of surrounding you with people all from your own country when you live overseas? I said, “I’m not Japanese enough to Japanese, and too Japanese to non-Japanese.” “Not here, not there” is how he described it. He is right. To him, I must be only someone who works as the interpreter for the parent company. That’s because I appreciate him much. He even told me about his family situation. I don’t think I had had this kind of talk with anyone since my Osaka days.