Are you Japanese?!

Yeah, it hurt but I like roses. They’re very cute don’t you think. They’re on my arms, I’m very proud of them. By which I mean the tattoo and the arms. I don’t know why everyone seems nervous looking at them. Well I know but I think it’s stupid. Yeah, I’m a yakuza*. Clearly, anyone with a tattoo must be Yakuza, because getting a butterfly on your lower back is really something that the yakuza are known for.
People, well old people, traditional people, those I don’t really waste my time thinking about don’t like my roses. They click their tongues and think that young people are now dressing like gangsters. What’s happened to Japanese society? Won’t someone please think of the children!? Such people didn’t bother me when I died my hair blonde and they bother me even less now that I have my roses. I feel happy to have them. Roses are beautiful and really, how can you say a tattoo of something beautiful is ugly? It’s not like I got a sleeve of falling sakura* or something outrageous.
But I know what they’re thinking. It’s written all over their faces, far more prominent than my roses. They look at my blonde hair, my tan skin, my roses and think “Are you Japanese? Really? Uso!*” But who are they? What is being Japanese? Meh, it’s too complicated a question so it doesn’t really bother me. I’m happy, I’m happy with my life, with my hair, my roses, my boyfriend who I may no have children with.
Yeah, my mother used to be the same but one day she just stopped. If she’s disgusted with me it’s silent, like the strangers disgust. When they don’t say anything it’s easier to tune them out. People think that their silence around me speaks volumes but really, at the end of the day, all I hear is silence which suits me just fine. I can plug in my ipod and be surrounded by noise. Oh yeah, sorry off topic. You want to know why I got these tattoos? Well I already told you I like roses. Roses are pretty. I mean yeah, I could have gone for something more “traditional” but it wouldn’t be something I wanted them. I went with my friend Miki to get them. Her tattoo is bigger and takes up most of her arm. Miki always likes big elaborate themes, always wants to make a big statement. Me, just some roses on my shoulder says enough. I’m glad we went on the day we did, because if we hadn’t I wouldn’t have met my boyfirened. He’s not the kind of guy parents approve of but I like him. I was telling the tattoo artist what I wanted and he came in. Apparently he was friends with my tattoo artist. I liked his hair, that was the first thing I noticed. It was long, covering his eyes and a slick black like oil. He approached me and asked me what I was getting. I told him I was getting roses on my lower back. In a gesture I didn’t expect he touched my arm and said
“I think they’d look better here. Otherwise only you’re boyfriend’ll see them”
“I don’t have a boyfriend” I said
“well then no one will see them. Tattoos should be seen.”
It was the advice that set me free in a lot of ways. Before then, I was very conscious of my hair, my tan. I knew I was a part of a subculture and while it did bother me, my mother’s loud disapproval, I tried to ignore it. Miki said we all do things to piss off our mothers, like it’s only a phase. I wanted a tattoo on my lower back in case she was right and really I just wanted to die my hair black, put on a kimono and line up men for marriage interviews and pop out a few kids just because that’s what you do. But maybe it wasn’t what I wanted. I like roses and yeah, I wanted them to be seen. So I put them right on the spot where he touched my arm. He probably doesn’t think much about it, making less smooth gesture now that we’ve been dating a while. I feel stupid, thinking a touch of a total stranger changed me. He was probably just hitting on me. He may not even think this is a relationship but it’s good. It’s really good. I don’t care because I like it now and really isn’t that what’s important? I’ll have time to think about long term when I’m old. And I won’t make sour faces at blonde headed girls.
Also considering how many of my friends have red or blonde hair, don’t know how to tie a yukata, would rather read manga than Sei Shonagon, I feel like I could throw back at them that they aren’t Japanese. I’m sure years ago people used to say that those wearing western clothes weren’t Japanese and now anyone wearing a kimono looks a little out of place. I’m Japanese. I dye my hair blonde. I tan on a weekly basis and think skin whitening creams smell bad. I have a rose tattoo on my shoulder because it’s pretty and because I wanted it. And I’m still Japanese.

Yakuza- gangsters, the Japanese mob
Sakura- cherry blossoms, a sleeve tattoo with them on it can denote yakuza
Uso- “Lies!” it can be pretty strong or said jokingly. In this case it’s meant to convey rude disbelief
The woman in the story was the first Japanese woman I’d seen with a visable tattoo. They’re frowned upon in Japanese society though the trend is changing. For all I know these were temporary tattoos. She was in Hagendaaz talking at a boy with longish hair in his eyes. He was nodding occasionally while checking his cell phone. She struck me as someone with a lot to say who was used to people only vaguely listening.