The Shape of Things...

I'm 5'6" (and a half) and my measurements are 33-27-39. I'm a skinny-minny on top and bootylicious on the bottom. Though I am a touch ill-proportioned, I'm often desribed as curvy, and that's A-OK with me. I'm very happy with my body and while I can't say I've always felt this way, years of workingon beliving in myself, developing my self-esteem and eating well and exercising has led me to this point. Oh, and the positive reactions of others have, in part, led to my comfort in my skin.

I have always attracted a fair amount of attention for my body. Sometimes it's really nice, sometimes I feel like punching a fool in the month. Sometimes it's a full on compliment, and other times it's non-verbal. While I have learned to accept comments with grace or ignore them outright, I've been completely flustered by my experiences with people's reactions/comments here in Japan.

I've been told then Japanese people communicate with new people by using compliments, be it an overly-effusive reaction to how well one uses chopsticks to how well you can speak Japanese. While I have received such remarks, it never fails to amaze me the inappropriateness of the comments I get about my body. I've had 2 kocho senseis (principals) tell me how beautiful my body is at work parties in front of everyone. I've had perfect strangers visit the school and tell me what a beautiful, curvy shape I've got and how lucky I am. I've had temple monks trace my silhouette with their hands in the air and give my boyfriend the thumbs up sign. I've been fully naked in the onsen (hot spring bath) and have women give me a smile and a nod and say kirei na (beautiful). Little 6 year olds at school routinely molest my ass in the hallway, in class and during soji (cleaning time). Believe me, compliments are great and as Chris Rock says, women need 3 things; food, water and compliments (and the occasional pair of shoes). BUT, I can't help but feel uncomfortable by so much attention.

I know, I know. I'm here to help internationalize the good folks of Japan. I'm here to teach and show them there are other cultures out there. I've been pretty open about how different I am, from my speech to my style of dreses to what I eat on Christmas. I've patiently explained time and time again how I style my hair, have let people touch my hair to feel the difference (something I HATE doing, but feel like I must for the sake of international relations) and also explained why my skin is so different to the kiddies at the elementary school. But there's something about body politics that makes me feel that the topic of my shape should be off limits, at least until you've gotten to know me a bit.

Ahhh, I don't know. Such a sticky subject. I usually forget about an offence until it happens again. I suppose in this cross-cultural experience I've put myself, such a thing is just the nature of the beast. I realize one of the perks of being of a certain age is that people find you attractive and sometimes feel compelled to tell you. I suppose I should get a thick piece of bread and sop up the compliments while they'll still coming my way. Who knows? Maybe I'll ache for the time when strange Japanese men would slowly run their eyes all over my hips, my butt, my thighs and my waist and say in a deep, gutteral voice "kirei na" while giving my boyfriend a thumbs up sign...

Since I'm talking about my physical self, I thought I'd update you on my hair situation. It's growing a lot, and while I prefer to wear my hair in twists most of the time, I occasionally take them down, shake it out and hit the town. Here's a photo taken on Friday.
Me thinks me likey. I really should have cut my hair ages ago.