Every now and then, I or my husband hears Japanese spoken in Penang, most often either by Japanese women living in Penang as they shop for groceries or by the shopkeepers themselves greeting their customers, or communicating in basic Japanese with them. Occasionally, however, one meets older local residents who learned Japanese during the war, when they were made to learn Japanese in school by the then-occupying authorities. They mention that they were made to sing the Japanese national anthem, and many can remember the lyrics still. Some say they were made to work for the Japanese doing such things as repairing submarines based, visiting, or refueling here. They express no animosity, but recall the time as a not particularly pleasant one. One finds these pockets of Japanese language throughout Asia, but not the way one usually thinks of them. They are not spatial, but rather temporal. They exist not in a given place influenced somehow by Japan or through a migration of its citizenry there, but in the minds and memories of a generation of children, now old men and women, who learned their lessons well.