In my last column I mentioned the inclination Japanese people tend to have toward French culture (especially the arts, fashion and cuisine) but it's by no means a one-way love. Many French people have an interest in -- some of them are even mad about -- Japan.

Hot on the heels of ukiyo-e geisha and samurai have come sushi, PlayStation, manga and futon. The latest Japanese "new wave" seems to have been received with ardent enthusiasm on French shores, whether or not it's promoted by President Jacques Chirac, a fervent sumo fan who has been to Japan more than 40 times.

But the question remains: What do the French really know about the Japanese?

I live at a small hotel that offers bed-and-breakfast accommodation, so I have many opportunities to meet French people from all walks of life.

To them, I am one of the many "quiet and harmless" asiatiques -- a blanket description that covers the entire Asian population in France, the majority of whom originally came from Indochina, France's former colony.

But when they find out that I'm an asiatique who hails from Japan -- those strange, Far Eastern islands that they have heard of or read about sometime, somewhere -- there are those who show a genuine interest.

Many passionately reel off the names of Japanese film directors: Akira Kurosawa, Yasujiro Ozu, Takeshi Kitano and, as France was the first country to welcome his Realm of the Senses (Ai no Corrida), where it is regarded as one of the masterpieces of Japanese cinema, Nagisa Oshima.

The French are very curious about our "strange" work ethic. They know that Japanese sometimes die from overwork. They are sorry about that, yet they don't understand why we don't go on strike (like they do) or introduce a 35-hour workweek (like they did).

Through such mundane conversations, I peep at the Japan seen through French eyes. While I'm impressed by their diverse knowledge of Japan, on certain occasions -- like when I'm asked if we still practice hara-kiri at home -- I'm taken aback and think about the vast gulf between the two countries that not even the mighty power of the Internet seems to have been able to close.

According to them, we are a quiet, polite race with a Zen (the word means "cool" in French) lifestyle, which practices the tea ceremony, ikebana and mystical martial arts. We live in small, wooden houses with sliding doors and eat sushi for dinner, probably served by geisha.

To them, life in Japan seems to have a tragic side. In the mornings, we are pushed into train cars to be transported to a long, hard day of work and at night we often sleep in capsule hotels. Our leisure time is either spent singing karaoke or playing with state-of-the-art electronic gadgets, and we often keep pet robots out of loneliness.

When we visit their country, we rapidly take pictures of the sights before scooping up expensive brand goods, which for us are not that expensive at all.

How about Japanese food? Its popularity in France is quite high, thanks to sushi's fame, even if it is more expensive than other restaurants. When I go to Toulouse, I sometimes check Japanese restaurant menus. One called Hinode offers dishes ranging from Banzai ($19) to Yama ($33), which highlight miso soup, teppan-yaki, tempura and moriawase. But watch out, because not all serve authentic Japanese food.

Japan clearly remains the mysterious yet attractive Empire du Soleil Levant (Empire of the Rising Sun), where everything seems so different. Because the French regard being different as a virtue, that is probably the very reason why they are so interested in things Japanese.

I'd welcome any comments or opinions, in Japanese or English, about my column. You can write or fax me at The Weekly, or e-mail me at jtweekly@japantimes.co.jp

The Japan Times Weekly: May 14, 2005
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