May has arrived. I imagine those in Japan are currently caught up in the lively atmosphere of Golden Week. However, living here, it feels like I've long forgotten that unique sense of excitement for a long holiday. Having never experienced corporate life in Japan, perhaps I'll never truly grasp how Japanese office workers perceive Golden Week or the underlying emotions associated with it. My own memories are limited to the carefree breaks of my student days.
The Curious Gap of Workers' Day
In Korea, May 1st is observed as "Workers' Day." For many office workers, it's a holiday, allowing me to step away from my daily marketing responsibilities and enjoy some free time. However, I recently discovered a rather peculiar fact: it's apparently not an official "public holiday" designated by the state. The reason many businesses close is that it's treated more like a paid leave, based on a specific piece of legislation called the "Labor Standards Act." This implies that for individuals not covered by this law—such as civil servants or company executives—it remains a regular weekday. I wonder if Japan has a similar system. Thinking back, there's "Labor Thanksgiving Day" on November 23rd, but that was always a day when everyone in society enjoyed a holiday. The fact that a specific law dictates "workers shall rest" without it being a state-designated holiday strikes me as a fascinating blend of Korean strictness and a peculiar brand of rationality.
My Discomfort with 'Red Days'
Living in Korea has introduced me to another interesting cultural nuance. Koreans often refer to public holidays and national holidays as "Red Days" (ppalgan nal), simply because these dates are printed in red on the calendar. When I first heard this term, I was profoundly confused. In Japanese, "red day" is a common euphemism for menstruation. If a Japanese man were to casually announce, "Today is a red day," it would undoubtedly cause significant bewilderment, and I'd probably inwardly cringe, thinking, "That's unsettling..." Hearing it through this cultural lens, I initially found it utterly baffling, wondering why they used such an odd expression. However, I've grown accustomed to it now. When someone asks, "When's the next Red Day?", I instinctively look for the red numbers on the calendar. It seems language, before its literal meaning, often embeds itself in us as a "shared understanding within that specific context."
A Holiday Maintained at a Distance
The tranquility of Workers' Day is truly welcome. I observe from a slight distance as my colleagues share vibrant photos of their excursions and moments with family on social media. I seldom feel the urge to fully integrate and celebrate the holiday with the same fervor as they do. Instead, I cherish this quiet time to gently reorder my own life. I catch up on books, savor carefully brewed coffee, and simply observe the subtle shifts in the air outside. Taking a break on a "Red Day," I enjoy the freedom afforded within its unique legal framework. Wrapped in this small yet profound sense of security, I'll return to the bustling environment of my workplace tomorrow. Living on the inside while maintaining a perspective from the outside – perhaps these "quiet days just for myself" are unexpectedly crucial for preserving that balance.
