The one good thing about being an outsider there is people who would be guarded towards other Japanese really seem to open up if one is warm and receptive. I've had friends confide things in my they wouldn't tell their families, and I've had more than one sit-down drink with gangsters that saw me, presumably, as a novelty. It's like, "he's an outsider who's leaving soon, so why not?"
Was he not able to hire a lawyer?
But it also gives you an unremovable link to the country. Yes I'll be a Gweilo forever in their eyes, and they barely understand when I say I'm more Chinese now than their children who spent less time here, and paid no taxes.
I guess it's fine not to fit in perfectly, it's not very important: when you make a choice to immigrate, your reasons for doing so must be both about the new country but also the old one. I have no qualms saying I gave away France, I left it knowing what I was abandonning and why, and now I can only move forward.
It's also true that I never fit in in France: I was anti-socialist, from a family that has owned small businesses for generations, believe in capitalism, free market, all these stuff that made me always make enemies in France.
Maybe I'm a gweilo, but I think all the same things they do, and I'd defend the country just as well as them.
I've come to terms with it tho, accepting that even though this is my home, I'll never be truly accepted or be able to fit in.
But I also think this has made me a better person. Having experienced racism multiple times here, I'm much more aware of my own actions.
>being a white American, I came to grasps that I would always be a Gaijin,
Racism is too strong a word, it's more like sticking out. Like if you're the only one in large group who has black hair, or doesn't have a beard, or is a childless adult, or is religious, the assumptions of the group will from time to time remind you (and perhaps others) that you're unusual. I believe those are what are called micro-aggressions, though there need not be anything antagonistic about them.
It's fun to be different, exotic even, but it's also tiring, especially once the novelty has worn off and you just want to live like everyone else.
That was (by far) the most difficult move, because there was no longer an obvious indicator that I wasn't from wherever there was. Acculturation was difficult.
Honestly, I never felt bad about being a foreigner anywhere else. Most people didn't care, and of those who did, most were honestly curious, and it was a fun way to start a conversation and potentially make a new friend. Negative attention was present, too, but the friendly outweighed the suspicious by a large margin.