Coming out of my apartment this morning I heard-
"Umbrella."
Did someone just say "umbrella?" I sort of wondered if I was hearing things, whether or not someone said "casa" and I had mentally translated it. After a few moments, though, it was apparent that two women were coming out of an apartment below me, speaking English. I walked down and saw that one of them was Western.
"Hi!" I said, "I thought I was the only foreigner here."
I had a pleasant conversation with the woman, and she had some questions about getting a job in Japan. I happily obliged her with some information and thought to myself "Maybe these people are awesome and we can be friends!" I'm occasionally starved for non-professional contact out here during the week...
Then her Japanese friend said to me, "We're spreading the message of the Bible. Are you Christian?"
Aw, shit. "Um... no."
"We're Jehova's Witnesses. Here, let me give you a pamphlet." She opened up a small book of pamphlets that looked to be printed in Japanese, Chinese, Korean, Thai, and sundry other languages. She found an English one that bore the title "Can This World Survive?" I thanked them as politely as I could and went off to work.
This is the fourth time that I've been approached by Jehova's Witnesses in Narita. The fourth. Back in Oregon I had a grand total of zero conversations with anyone who tried to chat me up about the end of the world. (To be fair, though, Eugene had other, different types of crazies.) But here, across the Pacific, in the middle of a country where English isn't spoken and religion not generally ascribed to, Jehova's Witnesses are finding me at a pretty steady rate. Even now two of them are on the floor below me, with their multilingual pamphets.
What a small world we live in. Sure hope it survives.
Aug 29, 2008
Not Again...
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4 comments:
Is that a sign? ^…^ Like Monica and Chandler in Las vegas, too many signs, and finally they got married. aha
That is totally weird. Maybe Japan needs JWs like Cuba needs medical supplies. One of the few things my preacher dad was useful for was stuff like this. Whenever proselytizers knocked on our door, we'd just grab him and he'd happily debate theology until they managed to escape.
Your dad sounds like my dad, Pete. I have some very vivid memories of a long and spirited coffee time with Mormons.
Maybe it is a sign. If I meet up with JHs again, I, like Chandler, just might have to marry Monica from Friends. It will be hard, what with her being fictional and all, but I think we'll manage. :-)
Frankly, I think marrying a fictional character from a defunct sitcom is less mentally unbalanced than converting to JW. But maybe that's just me.
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