I Traveled Around the World in Lederhosen (pt. 2)

When we last left off, I was tramping about in southern Spain, dressed in the anachronistic garb of Lederhosen as part of a grand experiment. Initially, I conceived of the idea to travel while wearing these clothes in East Asia in particular. I already stand out when visiting China on normal days. How much more amplified would this “fish out of water” scenario be in Lederhosen? I therefore saw the first leg of my trip, in Europe, as something of a control group in my experiment. Now that we were flying from Spain to Shanghai, the real test was about to begin.

Visiting Shanghai’s old town (七宝老街).

It had been almost six years since I last visited mainland China. When planning this trip, I actually thought it would not be possible to go to China, as a visa is normally required for U.S. citizens. However, the Chinese government recently instituted a new travel policy where you can transit through China for up to 10 days. When I learned about this, I spontaneously booked a 9 day layover in Shanghai on our way to Japan.

To be honest, I was a little nervous about wearing my lederhosen in China. Not because I feared that I would be unwelcome – quite the opposite in fact. Chinese people are generally so friendly and curious that I was worried about being overwhelmed by all the attention. I was already used to being asked for photos in China while wearing my normal clothes. What would the reaction be like in lederhosen?

Arriving in Shanghai, we were greeted by the rain. Unfortunately, we had been dealing with poor weather for most of the trip. I had to be cautious about not getting my Lederhosen too wet. Without a proper way to dry them off, I could easily damage the leather.

Even though nearly six years had passed since I had been to Shanghai, it felt remarkably familiar to me. China is a place where economic development and change occurs at breakneck speed. Yet, to me, it felt like I never left. It was my girlfriend’s first visit, so we toured some of my favorite spots around town. The Bund, Tianzifang, the fake goods market, lots of amazing food! Having spent many months in Shanghai, I have a shortlist at the ready of amazing spots around town.

We had a grand time, and I was thankful to be able to share one of my favorite cities with her. Sharing in someone’s first visit to a new place can feel like you are experiencing it all over again as well.

The Reaction in China

Now for my biggest surprise of the lederhosen experiment: wearing my lederhosen around Shanghai was completely uneventful. It did not feel significantly different than walking around as a typical tourist. This was a shock to me.

I remember being really shy and nervous about leaving the apartment we stayed in for the first time while wearing them. I had to mentally prepare for going outside. In the end though, my anticipation was worse than the reality I encountered. I had nothing to worry about.

To understand this lack of reaction, we can take a second look at the graph of Lederhosen impressions that I included in the previous post:

A graph of interactions I had on my Lederhosen in each country

Focusing in on China, we can see that while the number of comments on my dress decreased considerably, the interactions were spread across a variety of categories, from comments, photos, and videos.

I believe this lack of reaction is due to two reasons. The first is that, as a Caucasian foreigner, you are stared at by default in China. Some people, visiting for the first time, might find this jarring or uncomfortable. However, it shouldn’t bother you. There is never any malice or ill will behind the stare. It is one of genuine curiosity.

I like to think of it as an invitation to talk. If you are learning Chinese, it’s really easy to strike up a conversation in China. Just look around wherever you are, locate the person who is staring at you, and go say hi. With this context in mind, regardless of whether or not I was wearing my lederhosen, I would be stared at either way. What other outcome could I expect? Additionally, it is assumed that, traveling to China as a westerner, you do not speak Chinese. People won’t approach you with comments or questions unless they feel particularly confident about their English. Instead, they might take a photo or video of you (often discreetly when you aren’t looking).

Second, I talked with several Chinese people during my short trip to Shanghai who told me that I looked very “fashionable” and “formal”. I asked them if they were familiar with my clothes and where they thought the clothes were from. They said that they were not. One guessed that it was traditional English attire. I believe, from this small sample size, that lederhosen have not really permeated Chinese cultural awareness. Sure, there are Oktoberfest parties in the larger Chinese cities. However, from what I’ve seen, they are more frequented by expats than the general population. For the average Chinese person, lederhosen might not be a recognizable symbol of Germany (Bavaria in particular).

During the trip, we went to the luxurious Cloud 9 bar in the Grand Hyatt. Located on the 87th floor in the commercial district of Pudong, this bar is a classic for viewing the splendor of Chinese business development. You can spot several of the tallest buildings in the world while perched high in the 360o lounge. I was a bit worried that we might not be seated in this fancy establishment while I was dressed in my Bavarian attire. The staff didn’t bat an eye and showed us to a private table.

High up on the 87th floor of the Cloud Nine bar in Shanghai.

Lederhosen in Japan

After our nine days were up, we headed to Tokyo for our first visit to Japan. Since I was so familiar with China, I was excited to compare and contrast the two distinct cultures with their complicated, intertwined history.

We had so many fantastic meals during our month in Japan. Even our first meal, at the airport, was memorable.

Tokyo was massive. Even though we spent fifteen days in the city, I never felt like I grasped the essence of Tokyo. It remains a mystery to me. We stayed about an hour outside of the city center and thus became quite familiar with the public transportation systems.

The trains in and around Tokyo were consistently full, and no matter what time of day, we saw businesspeople sleeping in the seats. There was a bustle mixed with a Japanese sensibility of etiquette everywhere we went. A polite chaos. It could feel stifling at times, but I had an overwhelming desire to understand this unfamiliar world.

We then visited Kyoto, which exuded a completely different energy. In my mind, the multitude of temples, lack of skyscrapers, and proximity to nature are the defining features of Kyoto. Yes, there were many tourists. But this fact didn’t really detract from my experience. I appreciated the stay and its contrast with Tokyo.

Kyoto was very green and had an abundance of historical buildings to explore.

The journey to the next destination, Osaka, was an entire story in itself. I will be writing about it in detail, but in short, I decided to walk from Kyoto to Osaka over two days. I wanted to emulate the samurais of old, traveling by foot across the Japanese countryside. Was this image of Japan still a reality or only a fantasy of mine? I was determined to find out, step by step.

After two long days, my feet blistered and my back sore, I made it to Osaka. My girlfriend, who joined me for the first day of walking and caught the train into town on the next day, was already there waiting for me. This city was warm and lively.

It was not hard to find authentic food and high spirits among the okonomiyaki joints and izakaya dens. We enjoyed our stay in Osaka and wished it were longer. From there, we had two remaining stops in Japan: Hiroshima and Fukuoka.

Hiroshima is a special place. It is a city of peace and welcome despite the horrors of its past. Its Peace Memorial Park and Museum are beautiful, moving tributes. The people we met were among the kindest of any city on our trip. I also had the opportunity to visit a nearby temple outside of the city. This serene temple was my favorite in Japan so far.

Fukuoka, considered one of Japan’s most livable cities, is located in the west of Japan, on the northern tip of the Kyushu island. Coincidentally, we visited during Golden Week, Japan’s busiest holiday period of the year. Fukuoka happens to be the top destination for Japanese tourists during this time. The city is famous for its Hakata Dontaku Festival, with multiple days of parades, performances, and night markets across the city.

Fukuoka’s Golden Week parade.

I only learned about all of this when trying to understand why rent prices were so astronomically high during the first few days of our stay. We ended up staying in the “dog house”, our nickname for an affordable motel we found that had a distinct canine odor. Regardless, we enjoyed the festivities and the city itself very much.

The reaction in Japan

To understand how my wearing lederhosen was perceived in Japan, I needed to learn more about Japanese social etiquette in general. While I was vaguely aware that Japanese people are considered very polite and perhaps formal, I needed to spend time in the country itself to conceptualize it. In addition, I have started to study Japanese, and the language also has many cultural indicators as well.

In general, I’m weary of applying cultural characteristics to individuals. It can easily veer off into stereotyping. However, I certainly noticed the presence of formality and etiquette towards others throughout the cities in Japan that we visited.

For example, when entering any restaurant or store, the staff always proclaimed a formal greeting (irasshaimase) to us. Bowing is very common. Eye contact is rare when passing someone by on the street. These cultural differences were all the more apparent to us since we were coming from China. As I mentioned earlier, China can be jarringly direct and informal from a western perspective. It’s hard to believe that just a few hours to the east, the country of Japan can be so different in this regard.

I even discovered this focus on etiquette embedded in the Japanese language. Verb forms and phrases are essentially “conjugated” (I use this term loosely as it is not technically conjugation) based on formality. In any particular situation, there are many different ways of communicating based on audience and level of formality. For example, if you want to say sorry, the expression could vary as follows:

JapaneseLevel of Formality
Gomencasual (friends, peers)
Gomen nasaiPolite (every day polite speech)
Mōshiwake arimasenVery polite (customer service, formal situations)
Makoto ni mōshiwake gozaimasenExtra formal (business, public apologies)

With the context of the importance of etiquette to Japanese culture in mind, it may not be surprising to learn that my lederhosen went largely uncommented upon. I caught many secret glances, but the moment I looked at individuals, they would quickly turn away. I’m sure they did not want to come across as rude by staring, while also being curious why this Gaikokujin (foreigner) was wearing those clothes.

In Tokyo, I can’t recall a single instance where a Japanese person approached me to speak. Tokyo might be to blame for that, as the busy nature of the capital and abundance of tourists might mean that people do not have time to stop and chat with strange foreigners.

In other cities around Japan, several people did strike up a conversation. They even guessed that I was from Germany each time. I believe Bavarian culture is more widely recognized in Japan compared to China. Takeo Ishii, a well-known Japanese singer, might be responsible for this. In Germany, he is known for his stage name, “der jodelnde Japaner” (the yodeling Japanese man). Renowned for his yodeling ability, he has won several awards in Germany for his singing. You can listen to his music here.

On my long walk from Kyoto to Osaka, I went the entire way in my lederhosen. The people I encountered were definitely surprised to see me, but their interest was contained to a question or two about where I was from. Of course, I only spoke basic Japanese, and that question is an easy one to answer. Had I been able to communicate further, I’m sure that I would have connected more deeply with those I met in Japan. I certainly intend to return to Japan to do just that. But next time, I might leave the lederhosen at home.

Join me for the final part of my lederhosen adventure: reflections from Taiwan and beyond.


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One comment

  1. Traveling in Lederhosen to tease out cultural differences in people’s interactions with visitors — what a marvelous idea! What inspired this experiment? The differences you observed between China and Japan were revealing. Nice photos, too!

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