Chapter VI—
Community Relationships

The Separate Communities of Husbands, Wives, and Children

For informal social life, a husband does not meet with his wife's friends, the wife does not associate with her husband's friends, and they rarely go out together as a couple.

Shortly after arriving in Mamachi, we invited six families to our house for a picnic luncheon. As soon as the invitations were issued, the wives got together and decided that husbands were not to attend, and indeed, the husbands did not attend. Despite ideology to the contrary, it is clear that husbands and wives will not easily adopt a pattern of shared social life, and that women are as little anxious as men to push for a change. A husband centers his social life on his place of work, the wife on her immediate neighborhood and relatives. Even on the rare occasions when the husband brings guests to his home, a proper wife serves the guests and smiles pleasantly, but does not interfere with the conversation and often stays in another room except when serving. With their friends, husbands generally feel constrained in the presence of a wife, and wives feel even more constrained in the presence of a husband. Most wives prefer to stay at home where they can be comfortable rather than face formalities, listen to stiff conversation, and worry about behaving properly. Even couples who told us they would like to go out together found excuses for never doing so.^[1]

Paradoxically, the separation of the husband's and wife's social

lives is more complete in the modern salary man's families than in many traditional families. In farm and small-shopkeeper families, although men's and women's activities are carefully separated, a woman's closest friends are often the wives of her husband's friends. Consequently, husbands and wives have a feeling of belonging to the same social community although there may be little direct interaction between men and women. Independent professionals and businessmen have more opportunities to go out with their wives, and the women often become friendly with the wives of their husbands' friends. Not so the salary men, where the husbands' friends usually have no relationship with the wives' friends.

Sometimes, however, the Mamachi husband and wife pay visits together on formal occasions like New Year's, weddings, and funerals. Some modern couples, immediately after marriage, proudly go to movies, plays, and concerts together and sometimes attend parties with friends. Yet, in most Mamachi families this visiting stops abruptly shortly before the first child is born. While some young couples talk of going out occasionally even afterward, they rarely do, except perhaps for visits to relatives. Occasionally, husbands do visit with husbands of the wife's neighborhood friends. However, most husbands have little to do with their neighbors, not only because their own social life keeps them busy but also because they are mildly embarrassed by intruding into what is essentially the wife's domain. Although doing things as a couple is usually regarded as "modern," even in traditional homes elderly husbands and wives have been close and do many things together. Life expectancy is almost the same as in the United States, and after the salary man retires at fifty-five or sixty, the elderly couple generally spend more time together than they ever did when younger. Elderly couples go to Tokyo together for shopping or entertainment and, if they can afford it, take trips together to hot-springs resorts, famous shrines, or scenic spots.

The Father and His Company Gang

Salary men have more time for recreation than small shopkeepers or independent professionals, and most of the recreational activities are with their friends from work. Because of the long distance from home to work, it is difficult to go home after work and then return

to the city for an evening of recreation. Various polls have shown that it takes the husband an average of two to three hours to get home. While commuting may require a long time, the transportation alone could not possibly take that long. It is rather that this is the time for recreation. After work, the men stop off someplace to sit and chat, have a drink and perhaps a bite to eat.^[2] Most company gangs have their own favorite hangouts: bars, coffee houses, small food-specialty shops, and the like. Here, by spending only a few cents, they can have long leisurely conversations. It is here that they talk and laugh freely about sports, national and world events or the daily happenings in the company, complain about bosses and wives, and receive the consolation of their friends and of the sympathetic girls behind the counter.

Some men, particularly the more conservative or serious, do not like the gay life of the company gang and prefer to come home at an earlier hour to be with their families. Those who do not always stop off with the boys may walk around for an hour or so seeing sights, looking at department stores, or playing pachinko (a popular kind of pin-ball machine), go, shoogi (Japanese chess), or mahjong—all easily available at public or private places on the way home.

Even those who do not participate regularly in the daily gang activities join in company-sponsored special activities such as field day, baseball, tennis, table tennis, fishing, or the overnight trip to an inn. Even government offices have special funds to cover the expenses of such excursions. At least part of the time on the trip is spent enjoying the hot bath, but there are other activities such as fishing, skiing, baseball, sight-seeing, and mountain-climbing. The camaraderie often reaches its peak in the evening with drinking and singing. Often the group is large enough to charter a bus or occupy most of a railway car, and the fun begins when they get on the train. Aside from trips paid entirely by the company, the gang can often take advantage of a company discount at special inns and restaurants, even for trips not officially sponsored by the company. In contrast to the American social hour or cocktail party, where

one talks personally to one or two at a time, Japanese parties or trips are oriented to the whole group, except for hiking, sight-seeing, or bathing which require smaller groups and permit more intimate discussion. Although as many as twenty or thirty people may sit together listening to stories and joking, speakers are often more intimate than they are in private conversation. On such occasions men openly air their troubles and sometimes make personal confessions or tell jokes designed to correct personal problems within the group. At other times, someone in the group with special talent will tell funny stories or perform by singing or playing a musical instrument. Such group recreation is not limited to the salary man, except that he usually can enjoy recreational trips more frequently, and at company expense, and that his group is formed on the basis of place of work rather than on the basis of neighborhood, village, profession, religion, age, or kinship.

Generally those who stop off together after work are the ones who see each other most at work. Although it usually consists of the same positions sometimes people at different levels, who constitute a kind of batsu (clique) within the company, also go out together. Perhaps clique members have gone to the same school or have had a close leader-follower relationship for years, the leader offering guidance and help in return for loyalty and support within the company. Actually the clique may consist of a much larger membership than the small informal group which stops off on the way home, but even then the smaller informal group may be determined by membership in the bigger clique.

Because employees ordinarily expect to continue together for their entire careers and groups are so tightly integrated, maintaining smooth relationships is a much more critical problem than in the United States. Although everyone may be loyal to the group, minor differences of opinion (what Freud calls the narcissism of small differences) can create tensions upsetting to the group members. Going out together for recreation is crucial for keeping personal relationships strong enough to withstand the tensions which arise during the course of work.

Because most men belong to no group other than their work group they are sensitive to the slightest difficulties in personal relations. For example, some men are distraught about the way they

are treated by superiors.^[3] Others become envious of one of their group selected as a "fair-haired boy" by the superiors, especially if he begins to flaunt his favored status. But by relaxing together after work and going together on company trips, the men can maintain sufficient rapport and camaraderie that these complaints and rivalries seem minor.^[4]

The problem of controlling competition also helps to explain the exclusion of wives from social activities. Because wives have less personal investment in the husband's work group, they are more prone to gossip and thus are considered to be a strain on group solidarity. Wives are likely to be jealous of other wives who have nicer clothes, homes, or more education, and may drag their husbands into their discontent. Furthermore, status differences among wives may not accord with status differences among the husbands at work. If one man has a little more money through his family, this need not influence his position at work but it would affect his wife's style of living. When asked why wives are not invited, salary men are not always sure. They all have a feeling that it would be a nuisance and interference to have them around. Some say it would cost too much money, and part of that expense would probably be in keeping up with wealthier colleagues. When wives do go out with their husbands, it is more likely to be with old school friends rather than with colleagues, and the group is likely to break into women talking with women and men talking with men. Wives are sometimes invited to formal occasions, but then there is little opportunity to gossip.^[5]

Even though wives are reluctant to express jealousy, everyone recognizes that they are often jealous of the office girls who not only do secretarial work, but also perform many informal services such as running errands and serving tea—services performed in a way to flatter the men in the office. In spite of the fact that peer group activities tend to be exclusively male, occasionally an office girl or a bar girl becomes a regular participant. Sometimes friendships with office girls develop into sexual relationships although these still seem to be relatively infrequent.^[6] Even when there is no sexual relationship, men naturally do become fond of certain girls at work. When the company has an overnight trip to the country, the girls from the office generally go along and sometimes may be particularly friendly with certain men. There is an aura of romance associated with the office girl, and it is now so common for single men to marry young girls working in the same office that this kind of marriage is given the special name, shokuba kekkon (literally, "work-place marriage"). Since most girls quit work on marriage, office girls are generally young, and it is not surprising that wives often feel concern about their husbands' relations with girls in the office. Japanese firms have a strict prohibition on women working in the same firm as their husbands, and require women to quit immediately if they marry someone in the firm. This tends to sharpen the separation between the firm and home and suggests to what extent the company recognizes the threats to work-group solidarity.^[7]

If a man carries on an affair with a girl in the office, it need not disrupt his relationship with his wife. Long-lasting affairs involving considerable expenditures may lead to divorce, but wives who know or suspect that their husbands are carrying on affairs often resign themselves as long as the husband meets his family financial duties and still expresses his affection to her and the children. Some wives even say their husbands are milder and easier to deal with if they have a sexual outlet outside the home. Other wives are jealous about the husbands' relations to office and bar girls. They know liaisons exist, and because they are excluded from their husbands' office life, they are never certain about their office relationships. Ignorance is more likely to breed suspicion than bliss, but because the wife has no opportunity to see other employees or their wives who might give her accurate information, she generally resolves her feelings by denying the suspicion or denying that it matters even if such affairs exist.

Problems of the wife's jealousy of office girls may be illustrated by the case of a wife who knew a girl working in her husband's office. The girl reported to the wife that the husband was particularly friendly with another girl in the office. The husband denied the story, and the wife could not determine whether the story was true or not. She felt there were grounds why this girl might be spreading false rumors, but she also could see signs that her husband did not love her. This worry about the husband's fidelity led to the most violent arguments in the couple's long years of marriage.

Mamachi residents usually explain that wives do not go out with husbands because it is not a traditional custom, because it requires too much money, or because the wife should be protected from undesirable influences. Yet their reluctance to permit wives to go out with husbands has a strength which goes far beyond economic considerations or mere custom. It may be suggested that the husband is reluctant to permit any possible encroachment on peer group solidarity and also reluctant to give the wife full access to his peer group because she might be able to make an independent assessment of his occupational role which would alter her image of his position at work.^[8] The wife also wants to avoid any possible

encroachment on the solidarity of her neighborhood group and because she lacks information about the husband's relations with other women, she resolves her feelings about his outside activities by considering them beyond her scope of concern and refusing to let them interfere with her marriage.

The Mother and Her Neighborhood

Because companies take in new members only once a year, the husband joins at the same time as large numbers of other men. In the welcoming activities, orientation program, and daily work, he is thrown into contact with his peers so that he has no difficulty in developing personal relationships. The wife, on the other hand, after her marriage moves into an unfamiliar and probably long-settled neighborhood where she has no friends. While she may make friends fairly quickly in some of the new housing developments in Tokyo, in Mamachi and other suburbs it still takes her many years to win personal friends. When we asked one family whether they felt lonely when they first moved to Mamachi, the husband immediately replied, "No, not at all," but the wife said with feeling, "Yes, very lonely." She went on to explain that even after several years in the community she still did not feel completely at home and that she did not have many close friends.

When a wife first moves to the neighborhood, she makes the rounds to the mukoo sangen ryoodonari (immediate neighbors) carrying a small carefully wrapped present of towels, post cards, or soap, along with her husband's name card. But even on this occasion, it is unusual for a neighbor to invite her into the house. While the neighborhood group collects a few cents a year to pay for street lights and local shrines, and the immediate neighbors agree to help each other in case of fire or theft, the emotional significance of the neighborhood groups is very slight, a mere vestige of the powerful neighborhood groups of rural Japan in an earlier era. A Mamachi wife cannot expect to develop close relationships simply because she lives in the neighborhood.

A young wife's only close friends usually are relatives and former

school mates. Unless she is particularly fortunate in living near these friends or relatives she is not likely to see them often. Indeed, the young wife is expected to devote herself completely to her home, husband, and, when they are born, children. It is thought improper to spend much time away from home visiting relatives or friends, even before children are born. To avoid the intense loneliness of the first few years of marriage many wives arrange to live near relatives or friends. Many are even willing to live with or next door to in-laws in order to have somebody with whom they can have meaningful relationships.

Usually a child is conceived soon after marriage, and from then on the wife is completely occupied with the child. Since the Japanese wife considers child care a satisfying and all-encompassing occupation, the mother of a young child finds her social isolation more tolerable than a childless wife. Nevertheless, most mothers want to make friends, even though the time spent in caring for small babies leaves almost no opportunity for it.

Most deep friendships with neighbors develop slowly as a result of frequent meetings over a period of many years. Groups of women who were living in Mamachi during the war feel particularly close to each other. During air raids, food shortages, and difficult living conditions, the women often met together either voluntarily or in air-raid shelters. They took turns drawing food rations or going to the country for food, and if one had a sick child, friends would share food rations with her. Since many of the men were away during much of the war, either in the service or at their place of work, the wives became extremely close. No relationships formed since then equal the intimacy of those wartime ties. The closeness of the older inhabitants is enhanced by the fact that they consider many of the new residents to have lower social standing and especially consider recent immigrants from the country to be less refined.

Wives who have come to Mamachi more recently have developed friendships mostly through the PTA or other school groups. Through the frequent school meetings, mothers become friendly by discussing their common problems in rearing children. Besides the school meetings and introductions through friends, young women have almost no opportunities to become acquainted.

While most of the mothers enjoy the opportunity to attend PTA

meetings, younger, less educated women may feel uneasy. A new PTA member is reluctant to express herself for fear that some of the older women may criticize her. Since this is typically the only group to which she will belong, a young mother attending the PTA for the first time is making her social debut, and she is concerned about making a proper impression on the teacher and other mothers.

Older women of established position in the community generally are expected to accept the honor and responsibilities of PTA office. The honor of being a PTA officer was demonstrated by a mother who reported that when she was elected an officer one of her friends who wanted a position became much less friendly. PTA officers consider their work a great responsibility, and even the higher-status mothers are afraid that something may go wrong for which they will be criticized. They are expected to attend frequent meetings, plan programs, raise money, smooth the ruffled feelings of mothers who feel their children are slighted, and take the responsibility for all children on school trips. This hard work is not regarded lightly, and many PTA officers are relieved when their turn of office is over.

Although reticent in expressing their competitive feelings, mothers are aware of the relative social status of each family. The fact that schools require parents to pay for school trips, lunches, text books, and other supplies, and that PTA's rely heavily on donations accentuates the concerns about a family's financial standing. Some poorer families have to accept charity to send their children on school trips or to buy school lunches. Because such matters often become public knowledge, it can be embarrassing for a family that has difficulty in paying. For example, when one child was reported sick on the day of the school trip, some of the other mothers suspected the family could not afford the trip and sent a representative to the child's home to offer financial help. Of course the child was delighted, but the family was ashamed to admit they had so little money. They then had to try in various ways to repay the families who had made it possible for the child to go on the school trip. Although the salary man's family usually can afford the minimum expenses, many families cannot contribute to the frequent appeals to supplement the regular school budget.

Until all children are in school, most mothers are so occupied with their care that they have little time to participate even in PTA groups; afterward the situation of the salary men's wives changes drastically. Mothers who had been looking forward to having a little free time suddenly find themselves bored. Since the salary man's wife almost never has any work of her own or any responsibilities for her husband's work, she generally looks around for more neighborhood and PTA activities. If she has lived in Mamachi for several years she probably already has a number of acquaintances with whom she has become friendly through school activities or daily shopping. She and some of her friends may decide to start a study group for cooking or sewing (either Western or Japanese style), tea ceremony, or flower arranging, and sometimes she may be invited to join a group of older ladies. These groups, like the American ladies' bridge club, offer opportunities for regular visiting and casual gossiping.

Aside from such activities, not only does a mother's life center on the children, but her friends in the community are made largely through her children's activities, and children are usually her main topic of discussion. Younger and lower-status women will listen closely to the "veterans" telling how to persuade a child to study, how to motivate the child to keep her informed of his activities, how to teach the child co-operation, how to get the child into a good school or arrange a successful marriage. After they get to know each other still better they may complain about husbands, and "veterans" will give tips to the younger ones about keeping husbands satisfied and co-operative. Younger and lower-status women tend to be properly reserved, volunteering little except an occasional nodding approval or thanks for the advice they receive from the older ladies. Although mothers' groups may meet at the homes of wealthier families, poorer women are too embarrassed to invite a group to their "small dirty" home.

When talking with us, many expressed envy of American wives who go out with husbands, and many were curious as to what it would be like. Several went so far as to try it for the first time during our stay, but reported that they were too tense to enjoy themselves. When out with husbands and their friends, they have to be so careful to behave properly that it is difficult to go beyond polite pleas-

antries. Moreover, they must be so retiring that they generally prefer the more relaxed times with their lady friends. One wife, upon hearing about a husband and wife going on a trip for a few days responded, "how nice," but after a moment's reflection added, "but what would they talk about for so long?"

Most of these women have no chance to become casual friends with any man aside from their husbands, and it is considered bad taste to show any sign of friendliness toward another man. On the few occasions when a husband's friends come to the home, the wife may join in the conversations but more commonly she is little more than a polite waitress. There are occasional stories of a woman becoming friendly with her child's male tutor, or with a male teacher of tea ceremony or flower arrangement, but such relationships are almost unknown in Mamachi. There are occasional jokes about the attractiveness of certain men teachers, but that is about as far as it goes. Any suggestion of special friendship with a man could seriously hurt a Mamachi woman's reputation. One woman said that before she was married she was friendly with a group of young men and young women who called each other by their first names. However, nowadays when she sees one of these men she is extremely embarrassed because her instinct is to call him by his first name and yet it would be improper to do so in her role as a housewife. All this indicates how strict are the morals restraining the wife from any kind of intimacy with other men. By and large, a married woman's life is limited to her own children, a few intimate women friends, and the PTA, but these relationships often have a depth and significance that are rare for her American counterpart who has a broader range of contacts.

The Child and His Friends

Until he finishes grade school, the child, like his mother, finds friends within the school district. Until late adolescence, the child is a part of the mother's world. His social network is limited to the mother's contacts and does not include children of the father's friends. In contrast to the American suburban child who is chauffeured by his mother, the child rarely goes farther from home than he can walk. It is unlikely that he would know any children living outside his immediate neighborhood except for relatives. His sphere

is limited to his home, the homes of neighbors or friends, the nearby streets, and the schoolyard.

For children who go into Tokyo for junior high school, the routine changes greatly when they first begin the commuting. Since they must leave home early in the morning and return home shortly before supper, they have little opportunity to play with the children in the neighborhood. At their junior high school, they develop close friends with whom they visit between classes, during lunch, and in the recreation period, but there are almost no extracurricular activities and no opportunities for meeting these children after school, or on Saturdays and Sundays. Ordinarily, evenings and weekends are spent at home with the family. Just as the mother's life centers on the children, so children center their life on her.

Because upper-class mothers often have more outside activities, and the child remains in the same school system for many years, he forms close friendships at school which ordinarily last throughout life. In poor families, the mother who goes to work, takes in work, or helps a husband in his shop cannot devote herself so completely to the children, and the child's peer group often assumes great importance by default. By contrast, the membership in the peer groups of the children of salary men are more likely to change as children are separated by the results of entrance examinations.

Although the membership may change, the child generally belongs to a single intimate group just as his father or mother belongs to a single intimate group. At the junior-high-school age this group may develop on the basis of mutual liking among students who attend the same class or commute to school together on the same train. Since students at this age generally have no opportunity to stay after school for extracurricular activities, the commuting ride usually is the key opportunity for developing friendships. Once relationships develop, friends may see each other occasionally in the evenings or on weekends. In high school or college, special activity groups often replace the informal commuting group, but the pattern of belonging to a single group, around which all one's activities center, does not change. The activity may be skiing, hiking, mountain-climbing, music, radio, literature, politics, or some special hobby, but it is more common for one group (even if formed primarily for a single activity) to perform several activities than for

one child to belong to more than one activity group. A child in a ski club who wants to go mountain-climbing is more likely to urge his ski companions to go mountain-climbing than to join a separate mountain-climbing club. Although girls in high school and college are usually expected to come home directly from school, boys are given more freedom to stop off at tea or coffee houses with their friends, just as their fathers stop off on their way home from work.

Just as some of the father's most enjoyable associations are on trips with company associates, so many of the children's closest associations are formed on the special trips which all schools sponsor. Although boys and girls go on these trips, their activities are strictly segregated by sex. In addition to overnight trips, at the end of the sixth grade and at the end of junior high school and high school, there are school trips ranging from two or three days to a week, arranged by the PTA and school boards. As on their father's company trips, activities are oriented to the group as a whole. Pairing or breaking into small groups is discouraged to the extent that sleeping arrangements might be rotated each night. Much of the fun is in just traveling, eating, singing, and sightseeing together. Out of a hundred students perhaps ninety-nine will be on the school trip. The hundredth will be very sick and remember sadly the rest of his life that he missed the trip. These trips are major events in the students' lives, requiring months of planning; they are discussed and commemorative photos viewed for months and even years afterward.

Some boys of high-school and college age form private groups of classmates for excursions, especially for skiing and mountain-climbing. Sometimes girls form their own groups and very occasionally, if boys are willing and the girls' parents are satisfied with chaperone arrangements, girls may go along with the boys. Ordinarily, however, girls are excluded and because of the frequent planning meetings and the excitement of the trip, these groups tend to become the center of one's deepest friendships.

To the extent that a child's world expands beyond his neighborhood it does so largely through his relatives. Cousins of the same sex and about the same age are likely to develop close ties. If one cousin is slightly older than another of the same sex, he may become maternalistic or paternalistic to the younger, especially if the

younger has no older sibling of the same sex. The younger often has a deep respect for the older, visiting as often as possible and asking advice on all kinds of questions. Overnight visiting is rare except with relatives, but during vacations children often spend a few days at the home of a cousin.

Sometimes a child will spend part of his vacation with grandparents, and if so, he may become friendly with children in the grandparents' neighborhood. Occasionally relatives do not get along well, but by and large children have positive relationships with relatives and look forward to these visits. Though parents may be reluctant to visit rural relatives because of the obligations it might pose for them, the children are more likely to regard trips to relatives in farming or fishing villages as sheer delight.

When boys leave high school and college to go to work, they quickly form new relationships with men at work, but for girls, graduation means the end of many friendships and is an occasion for weeping. They know there will be few opportunities to get together with old school friends and little opportunity to form friendships of equal closeness. They gradually become separated from each other by marriage, and once they live in different neighborhoods and have the responsibility of caring for children, they rarely have a chance to meet. After completing school many girls stay at home, perhaps taking a few special lessons in preparation for marriage. Those who work for a few years after school may develop friendships at work and feel the same kind of loneliness when they give up their jobs that others felt when they left school.

Many parents are reluctant to allow a daughter to work because they are afraid that she would lose her simplicity and perhaps even form irresponsible relationships. While, as de Tocqueville commented, the American girl may protect her virginity by her own skills based on independence and fairly broad contacts, the Japanese parent is afraid that his daughter, lacking in experience, would be unable to resist the first man who came along. Hence, although many girls work between school and marriage, it is often thought better for her to stay at home, taking lessons in cooking, flower arranging, sewing, tea ceremony, and other housewifely arts rather than to work where the family has no control over her relationships. After leaving school, the daughter may work two, three, or four

years at home with her family until marriage arrangements are completed. The girl's stay at home at this age is, in a sense, preparation for the limited social world she will know after marrying, just as her brother's loyalty to groups from his own college is preparation for the loyalty he will feel later to his company.

The most important relationships until, and sometimes after, marriage are those with the same sex. While "dance parties" are not uncommon in college nowadays, dating still is not widespread, and at high-school age it is virtually unknown. One girl, when asked if there was any dating in her (coeducational) high school replied that there was a boy and girl who did ride home together on the train and that the other students kept talking about it because it was so unusual. Even college-age students who meet at "dance parties" in the course of skiing or hiking weekends, or through introductions, are awkward in relating to someone of the opposite sex. Young girls anxious to form dating relationships find it difficult to arrange opportunities, and therefore many of them in the end let their families arrange their marriage despite their professed ideology to the contrary.

The Narrow World

Perhaps the most striking characteristic of Japanese society is the existence of a series of tightly-knit groups, connected by a controlled and limited amount of movement. Although a salary man has a broader perspective than the traditional middle-class man, these differences are minor when compared to a more openly mobile society such as the United States. The contrasts between the Mamachi wife and her Western counterpart are even stronger. Some Japanese who are humanitarian or have a broader range of contacts (for example, those who have lived in Japanese overseas colonies before World War II or traveled abroad after the war) have been urging their fellow citizens to take more responsibility for the welfare of people outside their own narrow world. But neither their urging nor the growth of modern bureaucracy have succeeded in greatly weakening the Mamachi citizen's sharp distinction between friend and stranger.^[9]

Mamachi residents do have more opportunities to encounter strangers than the middle class in rural areas and have, therefore, developed routines for dealing with them. But compared to the upper class who have self-confidence, poise, and a wider experience in greeting strangers, the Mamachi salary man is reserved and therefore relies on these routines and formalities to deal with outsiders. The formalities may be jovial and even include lavish entertainment or they may consist of curt evasion. But in either case, the effect is the same. Strangers are kept at a proper distance and not allowed to penetrate into the inner circles.

Because the Mamachi resident ordinarily belongs to only one or two intimate groups to which he is absolutely devoted, these groups tend to absorb his total personality. He has no clear conception of himself apart from the group. He rarely belongs to special-interest groups with specific and limited purposes. His intimate group may cover a wide range of functions: recreation, gossip, travel, advice, and mutual assistance in making proper placement of children or in consumer purchasing. An individual typically has so little experience with other groups that he has little critical judgment for evaluating his own group and feels there is nothing to do (shikata ga nai ) but accept his own group's standards. Lacking the security of belonging to other groups, he ordinarily makes no attempt to withstand group pressures. Although a wide span of individual difference and free expression is permitted members who are loyal and accepted by the group, on basic issues, which affect group welfare, members are sensitive to the prevailing group sentiment.

Because of the tight-knit nature of each group, a person is reluctant to leave it and face the difficulty of entering a new one. If it is necessary to move, as when a child is placed in work or marriage or when a family moves to a new community, a family takes great care in establishing connections to the new group. The difficulty of moving is reflected in the special ceremonies at the time a member enter or leaves a group.^[10] All occasions of entering and leaving a

group are carefully ceremonialized. Even a short trip is important enough to call for farewell and welcome-back parties, and whole groups gather at train stations and airports to send off a departing member. Aside from formal ceremonies of welcoming a bride to a new neighborhood and welcoming a man to his company, the entrance into these new groups is a major event, and it may take many months or years before a new person is totally accepted.

Because of the sharp differences between friend and stranger, in considering the Mamachi community it is necessary to distinguish: (1) acquaintances, who stand outside the bond of close-knit groups, (2) benefactors, who stand on the periphery of a group or form the bridge to another group, and (3) true friends, who are firmly inside one's own group.

Acquaintances

When meeting a stranger without proper introduction, one is apt to encounter a wall of apathy covered by formal politeness. The other person need not be hostile; he can be polite, but by his reserve, impersonality, and vagueness he indicates his caution in pursuing the contact. A Mamachi resident has no feeling of obligation and little feeling of sympathy to strangers.^[11] In getting on and off crowded trains and buses, for example, people push in a manner which, though impersonal, is rude even by Western standards. As the saying goes, "You can throw off your shame when traveling."

To help break down the wall of apathy and escape the role of stranger, nearly every Mamachi man carries some calling cards in his pocket. They contain his name, position, and place of work, and,

unless he wishes to keep it secret, his home address and perhaps his phone number. In exchanging name cards, he tries to mention a mutual acquaintance or a well-known friend in order to establish his own social position and break through the role of stranger. In some cases he may have a mutual acquaintance write a short note on his own name card, which can then be shown to avoid any doubts about the connection. The assumption clearly is that connections are helpful in obtaining favorable treatment. Women have fewer opportunities to greet outsiders and it is regarded as pretentious and overly independent for an ordinary wife to have a name card of her own.

If a person is properly introduced by an important friend he is likely to get good treatment, and there is a vague expectation that the important friend will return the favor. High-status people are given special consideration, and many Westerners are treated kindly because they are seen to have relatively high status. This is not a generalized friendliness, for many Mamachi residents complained of rudeness from people who had welcomed my wife and me very graciously.

When a person is properly introduced, even though the situation is still formal, he is likely to be greeted warmly. If handled skillfully the contact can be pleasant, but the atmosphere is contrived, and the laughing, though real, is impersonal. Mamachi residents are more frank than Westerners in clarifying social status, but more cautious in expressing personal opinions. Although undergoing some modifications since the war, a standardized etiquette prescribing relationships between people of different degrees of familiarity and of different social status remains widespread. The less familiar the acquaintance and the higher his social position above one's own, the more one uses honorific language, deep and frequent bows, impersonal expressions, humble body gestures, and self-depreciation. Although in recent years the polite language has tended to be simplified and the most honorific terms have become less common, distinctions indicating the degree of social distance between persons remain basic to the language and to the social interaction.

Although the foreign observer is struck by the amount of protocol, it must be remembered that, when he is present, the situation is likely to be more formal than it would be otherwise. He is also

impressed with the amount of skill, sensitivity, and considerateness of Mamachi residents in handling each properly introduced person and each new situation smoothly. It is not surprising that they consider foreigners brash. The skills of dealing with acquaintances are cultivated to a much higher degree of refinement by a resident of Mamachi than by a comparable member of the American middle class. The skilled person is able to find just the right level of politeness. Overly polite language or incessant bowing would create as uncomfortable a situation as would overly familiar treatment. The goal in such situations is naturalness in according the other person the respect appropriate to his age and status. There is a proper way to treat inferiors just as there is a proper way to treat superiors.

The exceptionally skilled person who feels at home in formal situations and relates easily to people whom he has just met is much admired as an aid in promoting smooth relationships between strangers.^[12] Even if an ordinary person handles acquaintances adequately, underneath he usually feels a strain. The aggressive, talkative individual frequently serves a social function similar to the skilled person. Others seem to be relieved to have him take the responsibility to keep things moving even though he may be basically unpopular. On the one hand the group may give him the "go ahead"; on the other hand they dislike him as too aggressive.

Such persons are crucial in settings where people do not know each other well, for otherwise they are likely to remain reserved. Mamachi residents are undoubtedly sincere when they say it is unpleasant for them to have to put up with so many formalities, not only because of the stiffness, but because it interferes with dealing with the matters for which the group was originally called together.

Formality, when compounded with the uncertainties of relative status, can lead to difficult situations. For example, when a group is seated in a drawing room, the most honored person is placed near the tokonoma, a special decorative alcove on one wall of the room. If several people of about equal status enter the room, each man may insist that another take the honored position, and con-

siderable time may elapse before a decision is reached and everyone can sit down. Sometimes it happens that everyone humbly refuses to take the honored seat and it is left empty. Participants in such polite bickering are likely to find the situation taxing rather than amusing, but nevertheless they hesitate to be immodest by taking the seat themselves. This problem never arises in the presence of someone of clearly higher status. The higher-status person would graciously, with a slight show of modesty, accept the honor.

If formalities cause so much discomfort, one may ask why they continue in such force in these modern suburban families. One small part of the answer is that people derive aesthetic pleasure from forms and ceremonies. Many praise an elegant style of speech or writing, and many admire formalized rituals like the tea ceremony.

At the same time, the use of respectful language carries the connotation of higher-class behavior and careful upbringing. Many lower-class people explain that they haven't learned how to be properly polite, and many upper-class children still get special training which performs the same function as a finishing school. Since many Mamachi families have come from rural areas within the last generation or so, they perhaps are more concerned than other groups about their speech, behavior, background, and the art of social intercourse and politeness. Showing the proper reserve, like using the appropriate respectful language, is considered the mark of a refined person. While at times they wish they could be more frank, Mamachi residents still have more respect for the reserved person than for the outspoken individual.

Many people, especially the women, have had little experience in meeting strangers and are unsure of how to act. Often, a person with long experience in meeting different groups has a confidence which permits him to avoid formalities and to break through the stiff barriers. Most Mamachi residents do not have the confidence or the breadth of experience to allow themselves this freedom.

Higher-status people are often as reserved as the lower classes in meeting strangers, not because of lack of confidence, but because they are afraid that too great a display of friendliness will result in difficult demands being made on them.

Part of the reason that formalities exist is that strangers exist.

Formalities make it possible to be polite but cautious. In a group of strangers, it is difficult to tell precisely what possible connections and powers the other person might have, and hence it is wise to avoid doing or saying anything that might give offense. It follows that it is prudent to avoid committing oneself to views with which the other person might disagree. If questioned directly about his opinions, it is safer to give a polite but ambiguous answer. Children, questioned by adults they do not know well, may try to charm the adult by giggling or smiling, but if unsure of themselves they may give no answer at all. If asked about their career plans when not sure they will realize their ambitions, children may say simply that they do not know or have not thought about it, even if they have discussed the same matters with their parents or intimate friends. Foreigners visiting Japan, while charmed by the gracious hospitality, often find it difficult to get their Japanese acquaintances to express true feelings. If the foreigner presses, the host probably will express some opinion. But the standard Mamachi strategy is first to try to get the foreigner to express his opinion and then to agree with it, preferably with new arguments and examples to back it up. Indeed, nearly all foreign observers, even ones of widely different persuasion, have been pleased to find that their impressions of Japan were confirmed by their polite hosts. To the Mamachi resident it is considerate rather than deceitful to agree with a guest's expressed opinion and to keep quiet about his own feelings to the contrary. The Mamachi resident finds some validity in what the other person is saying and he simply highlights this side of the truth rather than presenting contrary evidence. This is being both truthful and properly respectful, but in case of doubt, showing proper respect is probably more important.

By keeping relationships impersonal, a Mamachi resident also avoids revealing information about his own friends that might threaten the solidarity of his group. Even if a person has negative feelings toward members of his group, he carefully avoids expressing them in front of strangers. As in the traditional Japanese proverb, even brothers who quarrel within their gate are united against outsiders. As much as one may want to develop close relationships with an outsider, one does not accomplish this by revealing secrets or negative characteristics of members of his own group. To for-

eigners whom Mamachi residents meet casually, they may complain about Japanese in general, but not about members of their own group.

Elaborate ceremonies and politeness represent a way of maintaining contacts and ensuring courtesy to outsiders while protecting the boundaries of one's own group. The problem for the Mamachi resident is that old forms are changing, that different people follow different forms, and that in completely new situations it is not always clear which form to follow. In case of doubt, most people choose to be on the safe side, to be more rather than less formal. The risk of being considered too formal and polite is ordinarily not nearly so great as the risk of being considered rude and impolite.

Benefactors

In "traditional Japan"^[13] obligations to benefactors were often lifelong and in some relationships, as between the tenant and the landlord, they were even inherited by their respective descendants. In Mamachi, most obligations are of much shorter duration and less diffuse. Because the salary man has security and is automatically entitled to welfare services through his firm, he has less need to incur personal obligations than most people. Although he does have some feeling of obligation to superiors at work, the most characteristic situation in which he incurs obligations is when a family member moves from one tightly-knit group to another: entering a school, obtaining a job, arranging marriage, or finding a house. Because urban society is more pluralistic than rural society there is more flexibility in determining which relationships will be used to obtain favors. One's relatives, classmates, former teachers, and work companions may all be used to provide the link between one group and another. Not only must the benefactor go to trouble to make the arrangements, but he must also assume some responsibility for the success of the arrangements. The recipient may not have had intimate relationships with the benefactor previously, but once he re-

ceives an important favor, he feels an appreciation and obligation which is not completely discharged on a mere contractual basis.

All human relationships in all societies result in some duties, but it is only when the feeling of obligation to the other person is stronger than the feeling of affection that one is particularly conscious of the obligation.^[14] In the relationships of children to parents, wives to husbands, younger siblings to older siblings, one is ordinarily not so conscious of the obligations because the feelings of affection are so strong.^[15] One does favors for friends without thinking of them as obligations; but without a close personal relationship the feeling of obligation may be keen, and the relationship tense.

Often, of course, there is a very thin line between kindness and a feeling of obligation.^[16] For example, one Mamachi father reported that on a fishing trip to an isolated area he became extremely thirsty and stopped to ask a farmer for a glass of water. He was promptly given the water, and since he was pleased, he gave a small coin to one of the children. It probably was not necessary for him to do so, but he was grateful and felt that the money he could easily afford would mean more to the small child than it did to him. Later, while the man was waiting for his bus at a nearby bus stop, the boy and his mother brought him several rice cakes. In this case, neither the giving of the coin nor the returning of the rice cakes were required and neither need be considered an obligation. They were probably more an expression of kind feeling than of duty. If, on the other hand, a person is given a party or a present by an acquaintance with whom he is not particularly friendly, he will probably feel an obligation to return this favor, particularly if it is clear that the other person gave the party in the hope of receiving a favor. The returning

of this favor would be considered more of an obligation than a kindness.

In previous times (and even today in smaller enterprises) the most crucial and all-encompassing obligation was to the person responsible for the husband's livelihood. Even in the large bureaucratic firm, there is a diffuse personal relationship between superior and subordinate which goes beyond contractual relationships. The emotional tie with the superior is not as relaxed as that between equals, but is often very strong, and there is an air of intimacy as great or greater than in similar relationships in the West. Yet in areas of the superior's personal involvement, the subordinate is reserved and deferent. Exactly how an employee expresses his wishes or complaints depends on his relationship to his superior. If a superior makes a mistake, an inferior with a good relationship would point out the mistake directly, taking necessary precautions not to embarrass the superior. If he did not have a good relationship, he might engage in circumlocutions to avoid saying it was a mistake. As much as he might hope that the superior would discover his own mistake, he would do precisely what his superior asked him to do, regardless of how unreasonable it might appear to him. The subordinate concerned about his superior's approval asks for directions and follows them with scrupulous care, thus relieving himself of responsibility and avoiding the risk of criticism. If the superior does not specify what is to be done, as embarrassing as it may be to ask for more directions, the inferior probably would apologize for his own stupidity or indicate by vague facial expressions that he did not understand. In this way he can elicit more precise instructions and avoid even more serious embarrassment later.

A devoted employee often praises his superior, telling him how nice he looks, how capable he is, how much he knows, and the like. This flattery keeps the employee in good grace and the superior in good spirits. At times, it appears that one of the responsibilities of the inferior is to help the superior maintain his self-confidence. Often the superior seems as dependent on the praise of his subordinates as they are on his approval. Although flattery, if clearly insincere, has just as negative an effect among the residents of Mamachi as anywhere in the world, our impression is that the people of Mamachi generally compliment with skill and sincerity and that

compliments usually bring favorable responses. Not having firm independent evaluations of their own behavior, superiors seem as responsive to group opinion as inferiors.

Conversely, criticism often has a devastating effect. If an employee is criticized he will be upset even if he tries to avoid blame by saying that he was not told or that someone else was responsible. If he really feels the criticism unjust or is angry with his boss, he simply may put up a wall of silence. But a person usually worries a great deal about his standing with his superior, and will apologize for his mistake and promise to do better, even though he may not think himself entirely to blame. If criticism continues, he may begin depreciating himself for his own stupidity, selfishness, inattention, lack of education, poor family background, and the like. In such a state, he would do almost anything to make amends and win back the grace of his superior.^[17]

The subordinate, in his desire to obtain approval from his superior, may probe with a comment like: "Since you have a special guest, I tried to cook a special little cake. I prepared it very badly, please excuse me." If the subordinate has done his work at all well, he will be rewarded with the compliment he was fishing for. If he feels that he has been neglected by his superior, he may depreciate and criticize himself saying he is stupid and incompetent. In this way he elicits his employer's attention and response. Such statements are humbly given, but in a certain context they clearly mean that he is concerned about his being treated so badly.

While these patterns characterize many subordinate-superior relationships even in the large bureaucratic firm, it is often said that the very talented employee does not have to display such deference and demeanor. Indeed the capable and confident young man often can be very straight-forward in dealing with his superior while the one most worried about his ability to please a superior will be the most careful about his demeanor and will work hardest to fulfill his tasks to the letter of the law.

Regardless of the subordinate's behavior, the superior is usually very direct about what he wants done. Unlike some Americans who feel obliged to persuade or coax their subordinates because of their democratic ideology, the Mamachi superior does not hesitate to give specific orders. At the same time, his authority does not prevent magnanimity and kindness, and in fact he wants to be thought of as a kind man. It is true that some superiors take advantage of their subordinates, making them prostrate themselves to request every little favor, and then innocently respond as if they simply had not realized that the subordinate wanted something. Most superiors, however, though authoritarian, are interested in the welfare of their workers.

The relationship of the maid to the mistress of the house tends to be even more all-encompassing than the relationship between the salary man and his superior. Yet, with the increasing scarcity of the labor supply and the rising costs, the number of maids has greatly decreased, and only the wealthiest salary men, along with the successful independent professionals and successful businessmen, can still afford household help. Nevertheless, many Mamachi families have had such household help until recently, and a few still do. The most common source of help is the country girl who comes to a household when about sixteen or seventeen and works there for a few years until she returns to the country to get married. To work in a better home is still considered good training for marriage, and formerly, as one man stated jokingly, "it was as hard for a maid to get into a really good home as for an honor student to get into Tokyo University." When one servant returns to the country, often a friend or relative takes her place at the same house and serves her turn of several years. Often there is a succession of maids from the same rural village going to work in the same household. Generally a servant works from early morning until late at night, but the actual physical work is not particularly demanding, and while always on duty she is not always working. When the maid first arrives in Mamachi, she is generally cautious and obedient, and what feelings she has she keeps to herself, taking special care not to reveal any signs of discontent. Once she becomes familiar with her surroundings, she can be more relaxed with the lady of the house, particularly if she knows she is performing her work ably and pleasing her

mistress. For many purposes the maid is treated as a member of the family, albeit a low-status one, and just as the housewife has no days off, so the servant works all week. She may be called upon for virtually any kind of personal service or help. Usually the lady of the house will later help find a suitable spouse, contribute money toward her dowry, give her household goods or clothing, and perhaps even help with problems which arise after her marriage. After marriage a maid might have a chance to visit the city, and if so she would certainly bring her children to show the lady of the house. Once the actual period of service is over, most obligations end, but often a closeness remains which makes it possible for the servant to return to her former mistress in time of need. The hiring process, the nature of the work, and the nature of the relationship once the period of service is over all go far beyond mere contractual relationships.

While live-in maids virtually have vanished from the ordinary salaried family, many features of that relationship are found in the position of relatives living in the same household. If, for example, a married man's sister is still single when the parents die, she may come to live with him and his wife, since it is still thought uneconomical and cruel for her to live alone. The brother and his wife usually provide board and room and help her find a suitable spouse or, in the meantime, help her find some kind of work. In return, it is expected that the sister will be obedient to the wife and will help with the household chores. In this relationship, however, the subordination of the unmarried sister is not as clearly defined as the subordination of the maid, and there is likely to be considerable conflict, especially if the single sister is older than the wife, has a close relationship with her brother, or is not particularly enthusiastic in fulfilling her household responsibilities. In one family, for example, the husband's younger sister spent much time at home and was very friendly with her brother but gave only a minimum of household help to her sister-in-law. Antagonism covered by a stiff politeness developed between the wife and the sister and became increasingly severe. Although the situation improved after the husband, at the wife's request, intervened to ask his sister to be more cooperative in the house, the tension continued until the sister's marriage, and the wife's complaints continued for some time afterward.

Although the younger sister is one of the most common additions to the nuclear family, it is also common to have one or more grandparents or a nephew (or niece) from the country while he is attending a Tokyo school. These relatives, either on the father's or the mother's side, often complain that they are being treated unfairly, much like step children, whereas the family is likely to complain of the burden imposed upon them by such a child or his parents. While at any one time most families do not have somebody living with them, at some time in the life cycle most families will have the experience of providing for relatives. How a kinsman is treated may be governed in part by comparative age, degree of closeness, and the like, but even a close relative has a diffuse obligation to his host which he repays by yielding to his wishes and assisting with work around the house. One kind grandfather, for example, very conscious of the fact that he was an economic burden on the household, refused to eat any of the more expensive food and was reluctant to complain when he thought the grandchildren were too noisy.

Although some families may have such long-term and all-encompassing relationships, every family is likely to have been benefactor or recipient of small favors. Because almost everyone has a number of friends from school, work, kinship, and neighborhood, there is considerably more room for manipulation of these contacts. If, for example, Mr. A has done you a favor and you have done Mr. B a favor, you may arrange for Mr. B to do a favor for Mr. A. Or if you have not yet done Mr. B a favor, you might still arrange for him to do a favor for Mr. A with the expectation that you would be glad to do him a good turn at some time later.

Sometimes a Mamachi resident wishes to build up a feeling of obligation on the part of a person who may be of assistance at a later time. Since it is not proper to go directly to the person and ask for a favor, one must first establish a good relationship through favors or presents. It is possible to begin such a relationship through a mutual acquaintance if one does not know the other person; once introduced, one can begin the process of building up the obligation.

Of course, there is considerable variation among individuals in their skill, sincerity, and aggressiveness in approaching others. Some people are too timid to approach a person for favors unless they are already intimate. Others think it is not honest to seek a favor unless

the relationship is a sincere one, and that it is wrong to be too aggressive in approaching a superior just to get favors for one's own limited ends. Others are fairly aggressive in making the acquaintance of strategic persons, giving them presents and performing various services for them in order to get what they desire. Many people are quite considerate of a superior's feelings and perceptive in discerning what presents or favors would be truly appreciated, and many are willing to give more help to the superior than they request in return. Virtually everyone is concerned about pleasing a superior and is upset if the superior should indicate some displeasure to him.

While Americans may consider it bribery to give presents in anticipation of later favors, many people in Mamachi consider it brash and impudent to do otherwise. Yet Mamachi residents also are uncomfortable in receiving unsolicited gifts because of the expectation that they will be called on to return the favor, and their discomfort is likely to be tinged with annoyance if the giver seems particularly aggressive, persistent, or insensitive in making unreasonable demands.

Often the prospective recipient will try to prevent such gifts, especially if they are in anticipation of favors which he cannot reasonably perform. It is sometimes difficult to refuse a present gracefully, but the recipient quickly can give a return present to neutralize, or at least minimize, the obligation. Sometimes an obligation simply has to be overlooked. For example, a private-school principal who receives several presents for every vacancy in the school has no alternative but to express neutral appreciation and ignore the gifts since he cannot admit all donors.

Sometimes a person, although willing to be of assistance, is unable to fulfill a specific request. If success is doubtful, he probably would try to do what he can but would explain the difficulties beforehand so as to prevent the other party from being disappointed. Through promptness, kindness, and thoroughness, he would demonstrate the extent of his efforts so that failure would not be considered intentional. If he did not show such sincerity, his failure would be interpreted as unwillingness because the only polite way to refuse a request is to announce that there were problems and difficulties which made it impossible to fulfill.

Many people are cautious about accepting even small requests since they may entail a great deal of responsibility. One woman, for example, was asked to introduce an appropriate young man to her friend's daughter but not to go to any trouble. She refused the request, later explaining to my wife that she could not make an introduction so casually. If, for example, the young man later refused the girl, not only would it be embarrassing for both the girl and the go-between, but it could also hurt the girl's self-confidence for future introductions. This seemingly simple request had too many ramifications to be taken lightly.

There are various reasons why an introduction might not work out well, and all reflect on the services of the go-between. One introduction failed because one party arrived at an inappropriate time at the other person's house, causing embarrassment. In this case, the go-between's relations with both parties were too formal to allow her to ask when a convenient time for introductions could be arranged. Introductions often backfire if not enough care has been taken and not enough questions asked. The successful introducer must have a relationship with both parties that enables him to be frank without giving offense. But no matter how skilled the go-between may be, his work requires thought and planning, and he ordinarily takes his obligation seriously.

Even two acquaintances may negotiate through go-betweens, but they ordinarily approach each other directly, dropping hints to see if the other is willing to perform the service desired. For example, as we became more obligated to the people who were helping us with our research, many subtly began asking for favors. For one thing they wanted to learn English from us. They did not ask us directly but dropped hints by saying, for example, that their child, who was studying English in school, had difficulty with his pronunciation and had we any suggestions as to how he might improve. While we might have recommended listening to a tape recorder or a radio, we felt a certain pressure to volunteer our services since we had received favors from them. (We did volunteer, and we feel it made a significant difference in obtaining their co-operation on our project.)

It is also not usually necessary to go through go-betweens to approach a relative, but closer relatives may be used to convey a

request to distant relatives. It is difficult to refuse these requests even though the demands seem unreasonable. For example, if a younger sister is pressed by her parents to help an older brother financially she may feel that she cannot refuse even if it means she must draw upon her husband's savings. Although she might be reluctant to sacrifice for a brother, she is likely to accept more readily the responsibility of contributing to the support of aging parents. But contributing to the brother's and in some cases to the father's finances and having to ask her husband to provide this help is likely to be considered an unwelcome duty and tends to stiffen relationships with the family. Such problems receive considerable attention in popular literature and on TV and radio.

If all people in Japan had the economic security that salary men have, it would rarely be necessary to rely on personal benefactors for economic aid. Indeed, salary men rarely need such assistance. But there are many other groups in Japan who do not have this security and who, because of their particularistic relations with a salary man by virtue of kinship or friendship, feel they have legitimate claims to help from them. Salary men generally prefer to avoid entanglements with relatives, but they do consider it only proper to give aid to parents and, in special cases, to brothers, sisters, or close relatives on both sides of the family.^[18] Beyond the assistance given to aged parents, the most common help they give is to rural family members who come to Tokyo for school or work. In contrast to the time when the fathers or grandfathers first came to the city, rural families now look up to the migrants to the city. They see the salary man as a man of power, comfort, and leisure. The rapid rise in the urban standard of living compared to the rural has exaggerated the difference, and the desire of the rural dwellers for education and placement of children often makes them dependent on the urban kin. One man reported that when he goes back to his native village, not only does he have little in common with old acquaintances, but he is treated with such overwhelming respect that he feels uncomfortable. Most people of Mamachi have sympathy for people in the rural areas. They remember or have heard about the arduous lives which their forebears led when they lived

in the rural areas, and since many of them have not been to the country for many years, they are unaware of the extent of recent progress and imagine present-day rural life to be worse than it is. Some feel guilty for leading such comfortable lives while the farmer still has such hardships.

Furthermore, many Mamachi families became indebted to their rural relatives in the latter part of the war and the early postwar period when they sent their children and wives to the country to escape the air raids and to be near the source of food. Although the farm people were having trouble providing for themselves and were not always hospitable to the newcomers, they were often a considerable help. The people of Mamachi remember this with gratitude. However, the soldiers or overseas colonists who returned after the war are often bitter that their rural relatives did not give them more help. When they returned to the rural areas just after the war to set up a new life, many found that former friends or relatives ignored them. At that time farmers were commonly chary with assistance. They were in difficult straits themselves with shortages even more severe than during the wartime, but they welcomed the more affluent Mamachi evacuees more enthusiastically than the impoverished returnees from overseas who were in no position to return the favors.

Salary men are not as troubled by requests from rural areas as independent businessmen, who are frequently asked to offer employment. Nevertheless, some salary men receive similar requests, particularly if they are in companies which have openings for people lacking special technical skills. For many Mamachi families requests to find openings for rural relatives pose serious problems. Because a Mamachi family may be the only city contacts the country relatives have, the Mamachi resident feels responsibility for trying to find an opening in the city, but these openings are usually scarce, and the responsibility is a heavy burden.

Most people of Mamachi reported that they go back to the rural areas less often than they should. While they feel they ought to go back at least once a year for the traditional ceremonies honoring departed family and ancestors, many have not been to the ancestral home for years. By not returning they can avoid the presents and favors which are given in the hope of assistance in placing children in

Tokyo. If they do go back they try to stay only a short time and to see only the most intimate friends. However, the villages are small and news travels quickly, and at least some of those expecting to go to Tokyo are likely to come around with presents. In making a request the rural person entrusts everything to his city benefactor and conveys the feeling that his entire life depends on the benefactor's willingness to help. While guilty about his failure to help the needy people in the country, the Mamachi resident is caught between their dependence on him and the likelihood that he will be unable to help them. The result is often an effort to avoid the situation no matter how much one would like to see relatives or the ancestral home. If help is asked by letter, such avoidance would take the form of not answering or writing a noncommittal reply.

Success in job placements for rural friends or relatives imposes continuing burdens. One salary man, for example, has been successful in getting several village people jobs as boiler men and other laboring jobs in his organization. Since the young people are new to the city and know almost no one other than this sponsor, their parents look to him for supervision in the city. He must see that the boys do not get into trouble or marry the wrong kind of girl, and this responsibility cannot be taken lightly. When the sponsor and his wife visit the rural areas they are greeted with many presents and honored by the boys' parents and by other people hoping to place their children in the city. In this particular company, the boys worked out well, so the company is willing to use this village as one of its sources of unskilled labor. The company's view is that since the boys are known to one of the important salary men in the firm, they are likely to be more reliable and to do better and harder work than people with no such contacts. To show their appreciation these boys frequently come to the house of their sponsor and offer various kinds of help. For example, they do the annual New Year's house-cleaning. The home of their sponsor becomes their home away from home, a place to relax or to find help with their personal problems.^[19]

Friends

Close friendships in Mamachi usually are limited to a small group of the same sex. Within this group people are relaxed and do not worry about formalities. They can talk and joke about their innermost concerns. It is partly the sharp contrast between seeing a close friend and a mere acquaintance that makes contacts with outsiders seem so stiff. This is in contrast to the United States, where one may be friendly with a casual acquaintance. The visitor to Japan who does not appreciate the difference in behavior toward friends and acquaintances is likely to consider the Japanese as more formal than they actually are.^[20]

With close friends, one can argue, criticize, and be stubborn without endangering the relationship. There is inevitably a great deal of laughter mixed with mutual support and respect. In relationships of obligation, no matter how hard people try to relax the atmosphere, no matter how humorous or nice they are, some tension is inevitable. With true friends, even if small obligations develop they generally do not cause any serious problem because it is clear to everyone that these minor duties are only incidental to the friendship.

A few residents of Mamachi have close friends from school days with whom they still keep contact, although their meetings tend to be infrequent, perhaps once or twice a year. When they do meet, they enjoy themselves immensely, catching up on past events, exchanging gossip, swapping complaints. With old classmates one can talk about problems at work that are difficult to talk about with friends at work.

Most of the closest friendships, however, are between people in constant contact. The husband's friends are his co-workers, the wife's friends are her neighbors. These relationships are remarkably intimate. If, for example, a wife has difficulty with her husband, as most wives do at one time or another, she may turn to her neighbor-

hood friends for support and suggestions for dealing with them. She may describe an argument with her husband and ask whether it is wise to apologize or to remain firm in her wishes. Most wives say that they feel freer in talking to other wives than to their husbands, and they tell other wives many things they would not tell their husbands. The same is true for the men, who generally feel freer in talking to their close working associates about certain things than to their wives.

Even the most formal of women may be informal with her close friends. One proper middle-aged lady, for example, told my wife of an overnight trip with three or four women friends to a special hotsprings, one of the few places where both men and women can still bathe together. Although they were too modest to bathe during the day with other people, they secretly bathed there during the night when no one else was around. They laughed like schoolgirls about what they would have done if a man had come. Another lady told my wife how she and her small group of friends had come upon a fertility shrine, shaped like the male sexual organs. Although most women were too embarrassed to say anything, the most courageous member of the group asked the caretaker of the shrine many questions about the history of some displayed instruments which had been used by court ladies. The more bashful ladies listened to the discussion and laughed with amusement afterward, expressing appreciation for the courage of the one who had asked the questions and speculating about the possible satisfaction which could be derived from such instruments. These same ladies are very formal, stiff, and polite outside their group. They even tease each other about the politeness of their bowing and the stiffness of their formalities which they notice on other occasions.

Generally members of the most intimate group are of roughly the same status, but where status differences exist, they are acknowledged and do not seriously interfere with the closeness of the group. In a group of friends from work, for example, if one is treated as a "fair-haired boy" by his superior, he may be accorded more respect by his peers. Similarly among wives of the same social position, if one is slightly older or has more experience than the others, she may be listened to as an expert on certain kinds of questions. Such true friendships may take years to develop, but since there is rela-

tively little movement of the man from company to company or of the wife from neighborhood to neighborhood, once made they are seldom broken.

Techniques of Social Control

Because most groups are so stable and because people in the same group know each other intimately over long periods of time, social control does not ordinarily require overt reward and punishment or even the direct expression of negative feeling, something most Mamachi residents consider crude and unnecessary. Because people are so limited in the number of groups to which they belong they are very responsive even to subtle changes in attitude.^[21] This responsiveness and sensitivity makes the techniques of ignoring, overlooking, and postponing very effective instruments of social control. Although close friendship makes possible a wide range of behavior without creating antagonism, one is cautious not to go beyond acceptable bounds. A good group member never gossips about a friend to an outsider since it might get back to his friend, but he often gossips about outsiders to a friend.

The most effective way of dealing with a person who has caused difficulty is through the collusion of a group in rejecting him. The residents of Mamachi still use the expression idobata kaigi (the meeting around the well) to describe a group of women getting together to gossip about local events. Some of the suburban women jokingly comment that the new idobata kaigi is no longer at the well but at the playground where mothers exchange their views while watching their children's play. If a group of women together decide to ignore another woman, she can be devastated. While to my knowledge no one in Mamachi has been expelled from the community for violating the customs and morals (mura hachibu ), the same term and method is still used socially to isolate a disliked person. People are, in effect, shut out from groups for their aggressiveness, egotism, or failure to live up to their group responsibilities. This sanction is effective in Mamachi because the mother who lacks

informal acceptance in her PTA group virtually has no other place to turn, and a husband rejected by his work group has no other opportunity for developing close friends. Quiet group pressures can be very effective.

The rules of politeness require very indirect ways for expressing disapproval and disagreement, and even fellow Mamachi residents sometimes have difficulty distinguishing between postponement and refusal, between exaggerated flattery connoting criticism and sincere praise, between a vague agreement meaning no and a vague agreement meaning a weak yes. Sometimes, of course, even the speaker may not be clear what his own final response will be.

But usually the general meaning, even from subtle clues, is perfectly clear. All that is unclear is the reason underlying the response. When a person complains that he cannot tell exactly what another is feeling, this almost always means that the other did not give a sufficiently positive response, but that one does not know why. Such vague replies often create anxieties greater than a direct explanation would create. Many people who are refused feel there is something wrong with them, and the diffuse nature of the rejection by postponement, avoidance, or vagueness is often felt as an attack on one's entire character. Undifferentiated emotional responses of fear, anger, or self-depreciation are common.

These subtle means of refusal are not unknown in the West but they are used much more frequently in Japan, and the implication is generally more negative than would be true in the West. If someone who has come to ask assistance begins by saying, "I am so and so. Do you remember me?" an effective refusal would be to say, "I don't think I remember" or "I am not sure" or to misunderstand purposefully the implication, then to resume talking in a friendly manner. The initial pause, the hesitation, and the refusal to acknowledge the memory is ordinarily sufficient to express the negative feelings and, in effect, constitutes a refusal to consider the request regardless of what polite conversation or formal assent is later expressed. Avoidance is also more widely used and accepted as a technique for refusal. If a man schedules an appointment with an unwilling acquaintance, the acquaintance simply may not show up. When they meet again, ordinarily it would be rude to mention the missed appointment. If the other person should be so bold as to

remind him, even subtly, of the appointment, the other person would express innocent surprise as if he had not really realized that a meeting was intended or he would profess that it completely had slipped his mind, and a man is not held responsible for forgetting, even if the unconscious motivation is clear.

Even with all these indirect means of expression the Mamachi resident feels that he has more opportunity to express his wishes than did the people in "traditional Japan," without being so crude as foreigners. If, for example, a man wants to eat soon, he may say to the friend with whom he is talking, "You must be hungry since it is getting so late," or "You must be tired." After a few repetitions of these comments, the friend will usually take a hint. Some people in Mamachi have trouble giving hints or expressing disagreement without becoming aggressive. Yet many skillful residents of Mamachi, in their own quiet and indirect way, have effective ways of making their opinions felt without being impolite.

One might have expected that these opportunities for increased frankness and the new opportunities for movement created by urbanization and industrialization would have weakened the power of small groups to control their members' behavior. This has not happened, and if anything the growth of the large bureaucratic structure has created increased stability which reinforces the ability of the small group to control its members.

The effectiveness of each group in controlling its members rests partly on its success in keeping the exclusive loyalty of its members. In Mamachi, an individual rarely has divided loyalties which would make it difficult to control his behavior because generally he has only one group outside the family which is the object of his primary commitment: the work group for the man, the neighborhood group for the woman, and the school group for the child. Even for higher-status salary men, who have more responsibility in community-wide organizations, no other outside group is permitted to interfere with this primary commitment. Each individual is also committed to his family, but the demands of the family are carefully isolated from the demands of the other groups. The effective isolation of the family from contact with the husband's place of work insures that work considerations are separated from family considerations. Similarly the separation of the husband from participation in the

wife's neighborhood activities ensures that he will not interfere with her group. Each group has virtually complete autonomy, and the opportunity for family loyalties to conflict with other group loyalties is minimized.

The effectiveness of the group in controlling the behavior of its members rests in part on the long-term commitment of the members to the group. But it goes beyond this, for, even in going to a new group, it is necessary to have an introduction. In some Western societies, if a person has difficulty with others in his group, he simply moves elsewhere. In Mamachi, even moving requires the support of one's group.^[22] One moves from one tightly-knit group to another, by way of bridges^[23] provided by the two groups. There is no promising alternative for a person except to remain sensitive to the demands of his group.