[Global Literacy] "A country near yet far": I only understood the meaning after building a close relationship

I am Koji Odajima, representative of ODAJI LLC. I share information on the theme of cultural differences between Japan and overseas (global literacy).

In 2002, the year of the Japan-Korea World Cup, I teamed up with a Korean business partner to start a company. Through him, I became close with many Koreans.

Around that time, there was a phrase I often heard: "Japan and Korea are countries that are near yet far."

Across the Tsushima Strait, the shortest distance is only 200 kilometers. The flight between Tokyo and Seoul is also less than three hours. Our facial features, the way we use chopsticks, and our sense of Confucian etiquette are surprisingly similar. Even so, there were no diplomatic relations for a long time after the war, and despite being close, a distant relationship continued. That is why they are "near yet far." I think this is the general interpretation.

However, after getting to know them closely, I realized that there are greater gaps than I had imagined in history, cultural background, the values and sensibilities cultivated there, and even methods of communication. In that sense, it was a "far" country.

The day I noticed the difference in aesthetic sense

For example, there is Ms. Kim Mi-jung (a pseudonym) from Busan. She was a student in her mid-20s at the time and was a Korean language tutor for my wife and me.

Every Saturday, after having a meal at our home in Yotsuya, we would have a Korean lesson. That was our weekend routine.

That was when I noticed the difference in aesthetic sense between her and me.

It is generally said that Koreans find beauty in perfect forms where the whole is well-ordered, while Japanese find beauty in things that are slightly irregular. In terms of pottery, Korea finds value in symmetry, while Japan finds charm in unevenness.

At first, Ms. Kim also possessed a typical Korean aesthetic sense. Her favorite was Goryeo celadon (11th-12th century). It is characterized by its elegant form, a deep blue-green glaze called jade color, and exquisite inlay (a technique of embedding white or black clay to draw patterns). She would not hesitate to say, "Only things that are well-proportioned are beautiful."

Ikebana (flower arrangement) was the same. Japanese Ikebana is an aesthetic of "subtraction." Traditional Korean flower decoration is "addition." Both imitate nature, but Korea prefers gorgeous, flashy, and perfectly symmetrical arrangements. When Ms. Kim first saw Japanese Ikebana, she felt it was unfinished, shabby, and looked like a child's work.

With just one aesthetic sense, it is this different. I was surprised, thinking it truly is a "near yet far country."

As Ms. Kim lived in Japan, she deepened her empathy for the Japanese aesthetic sense. She began to choose uneven pottery herself and started to talk about the value of Ikebana and gardens in her own words.

One day, Ms. Kim's parents came to Japan. They visited their daughter's house, looked at the dish cupboard, and burst into tears. The uneven pottery lined up looked like animal feed bowls to them, and they felt sad, thinking their daughter was living such a destitute life in Japan.

Ms. Kim hurriedly explained the traditional Japanese aesthetic sense, and in the end, it finished as a funny story.

To go beyond "near yet far"

"A country near yet far."

This is something that can be said not only for Korea but for all neighboring countries in East Asia, such as China and Taiwan. Furthermore, even within Japan, if the region, gender, or generation is different, the sensibilities are quite different.

Unless we try to understand each other deeply with respect, I think that relationship will remain "near yet far" forever.

For me, this realization became a great mental preparation and asset when I later traveled around Asia and worked with people from 'countries near yet far'.