When I was living in Japan, there was a small band who played some of the towns between Shinjuku and Mitaka in small live clubs. Their name was Hotel-NoTell, and they were made up of (if I remember correctly) two Fins, an American and a Japanese. They mostly played covers to groups like Dire Straits (note-for-note on the guitar licks). What I do remember correctly is the lyrics of my favorite original song of theirs. Ore wa Gaijin.

Ore wa gaijin, koko wa Tokyo;
Ore wa gaijin, koko wa Tokyo;
Dôzo yoroshiku, Eigo no sensei da zo.

Oyako-don ga daisuki, natto ga daikirai;
Oyako-don ga daisuki, natto ga daikirai;
Ore no Nihongo, amari jôzu ja nai.

It translates out to:
I'm a foreigner, this is Tokyo;
I'm a foreigner, this is Tokyo;
Nice to meet you, I'm an English teacher.

I love oyako rice-bowl, I hate natto;
I love oyako rice-bowl, I hate natto;
My Japanese isn't very good.

The song described me perfectly. It also described most of the people on my exchange program well enough that it sort of became our anthem.

(By the way, oyako rice-bowl is very much like its more famous cousin katsu-don (pork cutlet rice-bowl) but it has chicken substituted for the breaded pork cutlet. Mmm! And I hate natto also.)

And my Japanese wasn't very good.

The fact is, one can live in Japan, even in a place far away from the American military bases, without learning any more Japanese than greetings. A vocabulary of about twenty-five words can allow you to live for a year or so over there. I know people who have managed it. There are enough signs in roman letters and people who want to speak English that you can get by with a pitiful level of Japanese. It also means that if you're going to live in Japan, it will take a bit of effort to use your Japanese.

The problem isn't whether there is opportunity to speak Japanese. It's all around you. The problem is your own shyness. The unwillingness to make mistakes in front of strangers. The knowledge that you don't really know enough Japanese to get along turns some foreigners into hermits.

Then there is the fact that the Japanese won't expect you to learn Japanese either. When I walked into a store in Japan, the first thing that would happen is the cute girl behind the counter would disappear into the back room. Then out would come a rather embarrassed looking manager -- the guy who has to deal with the foreigner. I'd go up to the man and ask a question in Japanese, and he'd get a very perplexed look on his face. You see, he was so nervous about having to answer in English, that he didn't actually recognize that the words coming out of my mouth were in his language. By the end of the sentence, he caught on. I'd have to repeat what I said, but after that, it became a conversation in Japanese (where he usually had to tell me that he was sorry, but his store didn't carry what I wanted).

When one's hair is blonde, it becomes an opportunity for the Japanese to practice their English -- even after they realize that you speak Japanese. Numbers can be read off of the register when making a purchase. Food is displayed in plastic outside the restaurant, so you can memorize the Japanese characters and point to it on the menu when making your order. Every now and again, you're going to get on the wrong train or bus, but for the most part, you'll be fine without knowing Japanese.

The weird thing is, (as long as you don't look Japanese) it doesn't matter if you make mistakes with your Japanese. Most Japanese people will praise you to the rafters if all you say is konnichi-wa. If you try to make a sentence, most will treat you like a world-class genius. I was pretty introverted myself until I noticed all the praise one gets for even making the attempt. Then I happily made errors with the language all over the place.

Make no mistake, it isn't easy to learn the language, but when you're in Japan, there are a lot of rewards for even broken Japanese.