Alma Reyes / Jeepney Press

Are you one of the residents in Japan who goes through an “Eeny, meeny, miny, moe” when deciding if you should or should not wear a mask outside your home? Since the government removed the mandate for obligatory mask wearing a few months ago, I was quite curious to see how Japanese would diligently respond to the announcement.

Expectedly, at that time, more than 90% of the locals could be seen still hanging on to their masks, indoors and outdoors, whether while walking on the streets, riding a bicycle (really?!), inside stores, supermarkets, restaurants, train stations or inside trains.

I had started taking off my mask when walking outdoors (and absolutely while riding my bike), but admittedly, still put it on sometimes inside the train, especially when packed. At the two language schools where I teach, mask-wearing appears to be still the rule of the day (as of this writing). Similarly, I have opted to still wear it when having my one-on-one private lessons at a café (for being guilty of becoming Japanese, out of respect). Yet, I remove it when the lesson is over. Recently, I have seen more people getting the hang of doing away with masks, but this percentage may have risen slightly to just 30%. Above all, many Japanese STILL wear masks outdoors while walking on the streets (and while on their bicycles), which I find utterly incomprehensible.

Japan is known worldwide to be mask lovers. Japanese have been accustomed to mask-wearing even before the COVID-19 pandemic as a precaution against cold and hay fever. Thus, while many Karens of the world screamed out of the frying pan into the re during the lockdown peak in 2020 for refusing to be succumbed to the mask syndrome, social media went berserk in front of poker-faced Japanese who just shrugged off the chaos as ridiculous. On top of that, Japanese are well reputed for their austere adherence to cleanliness and public hygiene. The minute notion of sitting next to an infected person (even from just a cold) can trigger escalated stress. School children who suffer from a cold, runny nose, or excessive sneezing are often advised to stay home (and equally for teachers).

The dilemma, therefore (if it were put to such), of wearing or not wearing a mask is not simply a matter of allegiance to government regulations or exercise of personal judgment. For Japanese, this issue is a reflection of civic responsibility. “Ki wo tsukau” is a fundamental attribute of Japanese social decorum. It is one of the cultural traits I particularly respect Japanese people for, although disproportionate practice of it could be overbearing sometimes. The expression entails displaying consideration for the other person’s feelings or disposition above one’s own. It is a golden etiquette that foreigners can learn from. I have asked many Japanese about their sentiments on mask-wearing, and many have expressed such reluctance to cause inconvenience to the other person if they remove their masks. Doing as others do in the collective spirit of belonging in the society has always been the Japanese mantra of a peaceful daily life. An outsider is never regarded as a peer. “I want to take off my mask sometimes, but I feel bad that other people might think I am being impolite, or I might make them uncomfortable, and so I just keep it on,” “I think wearing a mask shows you are clean, decent, and have manners”—are some common points of view. An extreme opinion was also heard, “Actually, wearing a mask has become convenient in hiding my facial expression, so I don’t have to show the other person what I really feel.”

Other Japanese have claimed virus-unrelated reasons: “I prefer to keep my mask on so I don’t have to wear make-up.”

“Wearing a mask helps protect my skin from the sun or the cold.” For some, wearing a mask can imply protecting oneself or others from hay fever or a cold; thus, nobody could really demonize them for being conservatively stuck-up.

As for the ubiquitous sight of mask-wearing while walking ALONE outdoors or riding the bicycle, this eccentricity can only be rationalized by habit. Alternately, some Japanese find it cumbersome to put on and pull down their mask from time to time depending on where they are, thus, keeping it on regularly solves the fussiness.

Notwithstanding the current global situation of mask-wearing being almost invisible in many countries, many Japanese still restrain from foreign travel, and some have probably developed acute paranoia towards non-Japanese whom they believe may be more prone to the infection than them. Is it still a wonder why many Japanese suffer from stomach or intestinal pain when they travel abroad? We all know that bacteria has given a lot of merit to immunization, so virtually, the greater exposure one has to germs, the less probable feasibility he would be infected. It would be a spectacular sight to witness that day when all Japanese would have fifnally given up their dearly beloved health-protection and social etiquette armors. After all, if there is anything that Japanese are most comfortable in, it is being guarded in their own shell that keeps them secured to a safe zone only they can trust.