Isogashi means busy in Japanese. As I have been busy I have not made time for any blog posts in nearly a month.
My wife has taken on a new job as a nurse at a hospital in the neighboring town. I drive her in the mornings, which takes about an hour. Plus, our daughter's school closes early one day a week, there is at least 1 or 2 vacation days per month, and my daughter stayed home with the obligatory cold for a couple of days. Each afternoon I either babysit or accompany a 7 year old to either piano lessons, swimming, or batmitton. Don't forget the French lessons every other Saturday. Also, I am doing more housework than ever.
Also, I have begun taking Japanese lessons twice a week using Skype, a free phone service. My wife had signed me up to take Japanese for beginners at the local University. They actually had an English language advertisement. After taking the course, I will be ready to begin my life in Japan, or so they said. In the Japanese way, one can only begin the course on one specific day each year and it was necessary to apply during the month of October. They responded quickly, letting me know that my Visa was not the right kind of Visa, so I am only eligible to take the course offered to people who already speak Japanese and want to progress to an advanced level.
I am not complaining at all. They said no and I made other arrangement. In summary, it just is a fact of life for me now that I have less free time. Isogashi people everywhere will have no sympathy whatsoever and I don't blame them. Busy is a subjective feeling.
Does anyone miss these blogs? Doubtful, but just saying why they are less frequent.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Asoryu-san
Where we live is a wonderful place for cycling, especially if you are like me and ride in the hills and mountains. The autumn colors are beautiful, but it is late in the fall and the cold weather has already begun. Soon, it will be too uncomfortable outside to do much cycling. In preparation for the end of cycling, I joined a local health club.
Wait, not so fast. You can't just join. You have to take an introductory class to learn about club rules and how the equipment works. It only takes about an hour, and I understood almost 3 words that the guy said. Inconveniently, the class is offered just once a month. Just as flexible is the terms of the membership. Everyone has one choice, you can join for a year, and that's it. Also, your one year membership begins last year on April 1st, regardless of when you actually join. April Fools Day seems appropriate for a health club membership when you think about the fact that most people who join will go 2 or 3 times and then get lazy and flop on the couch to watch TV.
Complaining about the ridiculous and inflexible rules is a waste of time as there is only 1 health club in town and no competitors within a 45 minute drive. As the annual cost is just $25 or so, why complain? Soooo cheap, but its subsidized by the local city and probably costs a lot more if you consider what tax payers contribute.
During the introductory class they type up a membership card for anyone who paid the annual fee. On the membership application I carefully wrote my name in Japan's Katakana language, the one they use for foreign words. Only the Katakana symbol for "N" and the symbol for the sound "So" are very similar and I apparently didn't write my "N" clearly enough. From now on, I will be known at the gym as Asoryu instead of Andoryu (Andrew). You can call me Aso for short.
Wait, not so fast. You can't just join. You have to take an introductory class to learn about club rules and how the equipment works. It only takes about an hour, and I understood almost 3 words that the guy said. Inconveniently, the class is offered just once a month. Just as flexible is the terms of the membership. Everyone has one choice, you can join for a year, and that's it. Also, your one year membership begins last year on April 1st, regardless of when you actually join. April Fools Day seems appropriate for a health club membership when you think about the fact that most people who join will go 2 or 3 times and then get lazy and flop on the couch to watch TV.
Complaining about the ridiculous and inflexible rules is a waste of time as there is only 1 health club in town and no competitors within a 45 minute drive. As the annual cost is just $25 or so, why complain? Soooo cheap, but its subsidized by the local city and probably costs a lot more if you consider what tax payers contribute.
During the introductory class they type up a membership card for anyone who paid the annual fee. On the membership application I carefully wrote my name in Japan's Katakana language, the one they use for foreign words. Only the Katakana symbol for "N" and the symbol for the sound "So" are very similar and I apparently didn't write my "N" clearly enough. From now on, I will be known at the gym as Asoryu instead of Andoryu (Andrew). You can call me Aso for short.
Hakodate
Sorry for the lack of new posts. I'll explain later.
My wife and I went to Hakodate to see a concert and spend a day or so sight seeing. Hakodate is a nice seaside city on Japan's northern island of Hokkaido and we were lucky to be there for some beautiful autumn weather prior to the beginning of Hokkaido's horrifically cold winter weather.
The concert was Japanese shamisen music performed by an artist called Agatsuma. We loved it! He's great, playing a traditional Japanese instrument that looks like a banjo of sorts but he can play beautiful modern sounding music. Buy a CD or download to your IPod!
After the show we went to eat sushi at a great sushi restaurant. Hakodate specializes in seafood, especially crab and squid. It was amazingly good. 90% of what we ate was a new and unique (for us) type of sushi dish that we had never tried before. Delicious food in a peaceful setting.
After we ate my wife told the hostess that we needed a taxi. Within less than 5 minutes, we left the restaurant and the taxi was waiting for us. The driver was an older man who told us stories about the city, including the devastating fire from the 1930s that burnt 80% of town. Then, he drove us up to the top of Mount Hakodate which gave us a beautiful overlook of the city at night. This mountain is right on the edge of town and I would guess it is about the same altitude as Mount Tamalpias near San Francisco, maybe a little less high. The driver shut off his meter, walked us out to the best look out spot and took some photos for us. No extra charge.
Try asking a cab driver in America, if he understands English, for a similar treatment.
The train ride from where we live to Hakodate goes about 600 feet below sea level through a roughly 20 mile long tunnel that runs between Japan's main island where we live and Hokkaido. Its an engineering marvel. Just like Boston's big dig, only unlike the Boston tunnel the cement didn't fall off the ceiling and kill anyone right after Japan's tunnel to Hokkaido was built.
My wife and I went to Hakodate to see a concert and spend a day or so sight seeing. Hakodate is a nice seaside city on Japan's northern island of Hokkaido and we were lucky to be there for some beautiful autumn weather prior to the beginning of Hokkaido's horrifically cold winter weather.
The concert was Japanese shamisen music performed by an artist called Agatsuma. We loved it! He's great, playing a traditional Japanese instrument that looks like a banjo of sorts but he can play beautiful modern sounding music. Buy a CD or download to your IPod!
After the show we went to eat sushi at a great sushi restaurant. Hakodate specializes in seafood, especially crab and squid. It was amazingly good. 90% of what we ate was a new and unique (for us) type of sushi dish that we had never tried before. Delicious food in a peaceful setting.
After we ate my wife told the hostess that we needed a taxi. Within less than 5 minutes, we left the restaurant and the taxi was waiting for us. The driver was an older man who told us stories about the city, including the devastating fire from the 1930s that burnt 80% of town. Then, he drove us up to the top of Mount Hakodate which gave us a beautiful overlook of the city at night. This mountain is right on the edge of town and I would guess it is about the same altitude as Mount Tamalpias near San Francisco, maybe a little less high. The driver shut off his meter, walked us out to the best look out spot and took some photos for us. No extra charge.
Try asking a cab driver in America, if he understands English, for a similar treatment.
The train ride from where we live to Hakodate goes about 600 feet below sea level through a roughly 20 mile long tunnel that runs between Japan's main island where we live and Hokkaido. Its an engineering marvel. Just like Boston's big dig, only unlike the Boston tunnel the cement didn't fall off the ceiling and kill anyone right after Japan's tunnel to Hokkaido was built.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Eye-talian
We went out to dinner last night. There's an Italian restuarant next to my mother in law's house which is about a block away. It's called "Green Dolphin". Since we moved here in July I have wanted to eat there and get some delicious Italian food as the Japanese cuisine, even though delicious, can become tedious.
As any married man can tell you, his wishes are secondary, and for three and a half months we went to a large number of other restaurants that either my wife or daughter wanted to go to. We even went to this horrible Denny's like chain restaurant called Gasto simply because they give kids a trinket with their meal. You get food and it gives you gas too.
That was all behind me last night. Finally, my wish came true.
On a Thursday night we were the only customers. The menu was lengthy, and it got really lengthy when I was reading it as I read verrrrrrrrrrry slooooooooowly in Japanese. The menu had sections for hamburg steak dishes, gratin dishes, chicken skewers, whiskey and other booze, ice cream, ramen noodle soup, oh and yes in case I forgot to mention, pasta. You can also get pizza, Indian nan, or Spanish paella if you order a day in advance.
Everything tasted OK in a Japanese sort of way. Rather than real Italian cuisine that I craved, it was actually Eye-talian, or Japanese cuisine labeled as Italian, but really Japanese cuisine in disguise.
I guess that's why the family likes to ignore dear old Dad when it comes to choosing a restaurant here in small town Japan.
As any married man can tell you, his wishes are secondary, and for three and a half months we went to a large number of other restaurants that either my wife or daughter wanted to go to. We even went to this horrible Denny's like chain restaurant called Gasto simply because they give kids a trinket with their meal. You get food and it gives you gas too.
That was all behind me last night. Finally, my wish came true.
On a Thursday night we were the only customers. The menu was lengthy, and it got really lengthy when I was reading it as I read verrrrrrrrrrry slooooooooowly in Japanese. The menu had sections for hamburg steak dishes, gratin dishes, chicken skewers, whiskey and other booze, ice cream, ramen noodle soup, oh and yes in case I forgot to mention, pasta. You can also get pizza, Indian nan, or Spanish paella if you order a day in advance.
Everything tasted OK in a Japanese sort of way. Rather than real Italian cuisine that I craved, it was actually Eye-talian, or Japanese cuisine labeled as Italian, but really Japanese cuisine in disguise.
I guess that's why the family likes to ignore dear old Dad when it comes to choosing a restaurant here in small town Japan.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
No Credit
Did you hear about the new law that Obama just signed? It establishes all sorts of rules for credit card companies. So I suppose it will be harder to get credit in America. In the past, especially before the bubble burst, our mail box probably contained one or two credit card offers every day. If you had a pulse, you could get a credit card.
From what I hear, people with good credit scores can still get new credit cards in America. The credit score does not carry over to Japan. We have applied for a VISA card from two different banks and both have turned us down, without explanation.
Japan never had much of a credit card culture; it's almost always the case that you have to pay with cash except for larger ticket items, transportation, and hotels. Where credit cards are accepted we can usually, but not always, use our old credit cards we have from USA domiciled credit card companies. But we get charged 3% for each transaction and have to also pay in dollars, so the credit card company also makes money off of us when they convert from Yen to Dollars.
Frankly, I am offended when getting turned down for credit. This probably qualifies me for being an arrogant, ugly American. The truth us, I am a penny pinching person and simply want to avoid the fees.
My question: Is it so hard for the Japanese credit card companies to consider the credit score from another country? Gosh, it might take 10 seconds to look at and analyze the number, and there is no obligation to offer credit to anyone. Answer: Yes.
From what I hear, people with good credit scores can still get new credit cards in America. The credit score does not carry over to Japan. We have applied for a VISA card from two different banks and both have turned us down, without explanation.
Japan never had much of a credit card culture; it's almost always the case that you have to pay with cash except for larger ticket items, transportation, and hotels. Where credit cards are accepted we can usually, but not always, use our old credit cards we have from USA domiciled credit card companies. But we get charged 3% for each transaction and have to also pay in dollars, so the credit card company also makes money off of us when they convert from Yen to Dollars.
Frankly, I am offended when getting turned down for credit. This probably qualifies me for being an arrogant, ugly American. The truth us, I am a penny pinching person and simply want to avoid the fees.
My question: Is it so hard for the Japanese credit card companies to consider the credit score from another country? Gosh, it might take 10 seconds to look at and analyze the number, and there is no obligation to offer credit to anyone. Answer: Yes.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Zero
It isn't easy. Scoring a zero on any test. No, I didn't take a test written in Japanese Kanji characters. It was my wife, in fact. You see, here in Japan they don't simply accept your existing non-Japan driver's license as proof that you can drive. If you want a driver's license here, you must pass a vision test, a written test, and a driving skills test.
In preparation for this, my wife has taken 2 practice driving skills tests at the local driving school. She scored a zero both times.
Not that my wife isn't a bad female Asian driver, she certainly is, but she isn't all that bad. Not a zero, maybe a 50%. The main problem is that here in Japan the driving skill test is sort of like a Japanese Kabuki theater show, minus the historical garb. It isn't at all practical. Rather, it consists of a very formulaic series of steps one must take, not for any reason other than to uphold traditional appearances.
For example, you don't walk over to the car, open the door, get in, put on your seat belt, and start the engine. Wrong, wrong, wrong, and wrong. First you must circle the car clockwise starting from the rear, checking to make sure there isn't anything under the chassis or otherwise obstructing the vehicle. Then, when entering the vehicle, make sure to put your hand on top of the open door, removing it prior to closing the door else fingers will be crushed. Finally, lock the doors, adjust the seat, check all three mirrors, and prepare to get your zero.
My favorite part is when stopping prior to a railroad track near an uphill slope you are supposed to put the car in park, look both ways to ensure no train is arriving, begin to accelerate, and then after pressing your foot on the accelerator, put the car into drive and proceed. Transmission repair shop owners must have paid dearly to have this specified in the driving rules.
After 4 or 5 more expensive lessons, I figure my wife will have learned the Kabuki steps and will be able to pass the test.
By the way, the drivers here in Japan are more polite, as one might expect, but they are otherwise just as lousy at driving as any American or anyone else.
In preparation for this, my wife has taken 2 practice driving skills tests at the local driving school. She scored a zero both times.
Not that my wife isn't a bad female Asian driver, she certainly is, but she isn't all that bad. Not a zero, maybe a 50%. The main problem is that here in Japan the driving skill test is sort of like a Japanese Kabuki theater show, minus the historical garb. It isn't at all practical. Rather, it consists of a very formulaic series of steps one must take, not for any reason other than to uphold traditional appearances.
For example, you don't walk over to the car, open the door, get in, put on your seat belt, and start the engine. Wrong, wrong, wrong, and wrong. First you must circle the car clockwise starting from the rear, checking to make sure there isn't anything under the chassis or otherwise obstructing the vehicle. Then, when entering the vehicle, make sure to put your hand on top of the open door, removing it prior to closing the door else fingers will be crushed. Finally, lock the doors, adjust the seat, check all three mirrors, and prepare to get your zero.
My favorite part is when stopping prior to a railroad track near an uphill slope you are supposed to put the car in park, look both ways to ensure no train is arriving, begin to accelerate, and then after pressing your foot on the accelerator, put the car into drive and proceed. Transmission repair shop owners must have paid dearly to have this specified in the driving rules.
After 4 or 5 more expensive lessons, I figure my wife will have learned the Kabuki steps and will be able to pass the test.
By the way, the drivers here in Japan are more polite, as one might expect, but they are otherwise just as lousy at driving as any American or anyone else.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Hitori
Hitori means "one person" or "by yourself" in Japanese.
My wife is concerned over my near complete lack of ability in Japanese language so she signed me up to take a free Japanese language class for foreigners that our local town offers once a week. I show up for the first class unprepared and make a hasty introduction to the head teacher, which is quickly followed by her saying things to me in Japanese that I did not understand or respond to.
She quickly calls over a volunteer lady teacher who speaks a little English. I am asked if I am by myself, hitori. Well of course, no one came in the room with me, I say to myself as I respond "hai" which means yes in Japanese. I was too thick to realize that the head teacher wanted to know why I didn't bring anyone to help me.
So they ask for my name, address, age, and job background and I explain that I would like to sit in on the class today to observe and learn how the class works. The head teacher explains I must have a text book to be in the class and I ask, in my best bad Japanese, where I can buy the text book. No response. Hmmm.
So they sit me down to "mit-e" which means watch what is happening and I am seated with the volunteer lady who speaks a little English and her Chinese student who speaks Japanese at an intermediate level. Seems like all is well, but I notice the head teacher has left the room and that seems odd.
After 5 or 10 minutes of listening to the lesson, the head teacher re-enters the room with a young Japanese lady. The young lady, Ms. Sasaki, works across the street at City Hall and she went to college in Baltimore, so she speaks English. We introduce ourselves and Sasaki-san explains she is there to help translate.
At first, I think how nice and thoughtful, coming over just to help me understand what is going on in the class. But all is not well. Sasaki san has an apologetic look on her face and rather than sitting near to me, she positions herself in a place that forces me to turn towards her in a manner that will no longer allow me to participate in the lesson.
She very kindly and politely explains that the class offered in my new home town is not right for me for a variety of reasons and that I should take a different class in a city (called Honjo) that is at least an hour and a half round trip away. Do I have any questions?
Where is the Honjo class and at what time does it start? She doesn't know exactly, but they will be able to help me there on Friday night. I show her the beginners test book I already completed and she can not believe it is commonly used to teach Japanese to Americans. I ask where can I obtain the text book for this class? She looks at me with pity and explains I can get the text at a book store, but that the class in Honjo is better for me.
She asks about my prospects for a job in Japan and then says I really should take the class in Honjo. She asks about my wife's prospects for getting a job in Japan and then says I really ought to go to the Honjo class. OK, I am obtuse, but even I can finally get it.
We exchange email addresses as she wants me to notify her if I intend on coming back to take another language class in my new hometown. Seems like an odd request as she works across the street and is only helping to translate, but I suppose she wants to warn the head teacher if I am going to show up again.
Sayanara all around and a few hours later I get an email from Sasaki-san, thanking me for attending the language class. She helpfully includes a link to a website for the Honjo Japanese language class.
In Japan, it is not wise to show up "hitori" for something important, like a language class. The relationship must be properly built in order to pave the way for future success. You don't just show up and wing it like you might in America.
My wife is concerned over my near complete lack of ability in Japanese language so she signed me up to take a free Japanese language class for foreigners that our local town offers once a week. I show up for the first class unprepared and make a hasty introduction to the head teacher, which is quickly followed by her saying things to me in Japanese that I did not understand or respond to.
She quickly calls over a volunteer lady teacher who speaks a little English. I am asked if I am by myself, hitori. Well of course, no one came in the room with me, I say to myself as I respond "hai" which means yes in Japanese. I was too thick to realize that the head teacher wanted to know why I didn't bring anyone to help me.
So they ask for my name, address, age, and job background and I explain that I would like to sit in on the class today to observe and learn how the class works. The head teacher explains I must have a text book to be in the class and I ask, in my best bad Japanese, where I can buy the text book. No response. Hmmm.
So they sit me down to "mit-e" which means watch what is happening and I am seated with the volunteer lady who speaks a little English and her Chinese student who speaks Japanese at an intermediate level. Seems like all is well, but I notice the head teacher has left the room and that seems odd.
After 5 or 10 minutes of listening to the lesson, the head teacher re-enters the room with a young Japanese lady. The young lady, Ms. Sasaki, works across the street at City Hall and she went to college in Baltimore, so she speaks English. We introduce ourselves and Sasaki-san explains she is there to help translate.
At first, I think how nice and thoughtful, coming over just to help me understand what is going on in the class. But all is not well. Sasaki san has an apologetic look on her face and rather than sitting near to me, she positions herself in a place that forces me to turn towards her in a manner that will no longer allow me to participate in the lesson.
She very kindly and politely explains that the class offered in my new home town is not right for me for a variety of reasons and that I should take a different class in a city (called Honjo) that is at least an hour and a half round trip away. Do I have any questions?
Where is the Honjo class and at what time does it start? She doesn't know exactly, but they will be able to help me there on Friday night. I show her the beginners test book I already completed and she can not believe it is commonly used to teach Japanese to Americans. I ask where can I obtain the text book for this class? She looks at me with pity and explains I can get the text at a book store, but that the class in Honjo is better for me.
She asks about my prospects for a job in Japan and then says I really should take the class in Honjo. She asks about my wife's prospects for getting a job in Japan and then says I really ought to go to the Honjo class. OK, I am obtuse, but even I can finally get it.
We exchange email addresses as she wants me to notify her if I intend on coming back to take another language class in my new hometown. Seems like an odd request as she works across the street and is only helping to translate, but I suppose she wants to warn the head teacher if I am going to show up again.
Sayanara all around and a few hours later I get an email from Sasaki-san, thanking me for attending the language class. She helpfully includes a link to a website for the Honjo Japanese language class.
In Japan, it is not wise to show up "hitori" for something important, like a language class. The relationship must be properly built in order to pave the way for future success. You don't just show up and wing it like you might in America.
Friday, September 4, 2009
Delivery!!!!
Late Friday afternoon we were discussing a small number of food items that we enjoyed in America, but could not find here in small town Japan. After just a few minutes searching the web, we found a speciality grocery store located in Tokyo that carried some of the items we wanted.
Yuriko called them and a helpful person answered the phone. Within a couple of minutes everything was handled. We didn't get put on hold, did not speak with someone who couldn't help or didn't care, and for just $6 extra worth of Yen, we arranged for delivery. Did I mention we didn't have to pay until the package arrived, which it did in time for lunch on Saturday, less than 24 hours later.
Go ahead, call up a grocery store in America that is a thousand miles away late on a Friday afternoon and see what happens when you try to get some freshly ground almond butter shipped to your house for lunch the next day. In Japan, customer service is real, not just some phony corporate slogan.
Next blog: why the used car market in Japan is insane.
Yuriko called them and a helpful person answered the phone. Within a couple of minutes everything was handled. We didn't get put on hold, did not speak with someone who couldn't help or didn't care, and for just $6 extra worth of Yen, we arranged for delivery. Did I mention we didn't have to pay until the package arrived, which it did in time for lunch on Saturday, less than 24 hours later.
Go ahead, call up a grocery store in America that is a thousand miles away late on a Friday afternoon and see what happens when you try to get some freshly ground almond butter shipped to your house for lunch the next day. In Japan, customer service is real, not just some phony corporate slogan.
Next blog: why the used car market in Japan is insane.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Safety?
As my wife, 7 year old, and I entered the hotel, one of the employees immediately stepped out from behind the front desk with a gift. It was fireworks (hanabi, in Japanese), for our child to play with. In other parts of the world, a multitude of class action and personal injury lawyers would arrive on the scene to put an end to the fun prior to the guests being taken to the room. Not here.
A few minutes later, as we waited for the check in process to end, another family arrived. The same employee handing over fireworks to what appeared to be another 7 year old girl and her younger brother, who looked about 4 years old to me. The free hanabi at the hotel routine is quite common in fact.
The kids love hanabi and it gives them something to do after dinner. Not to mention the fact that parents can use the prospect of fun with hanabi as a bribe for good behavior at the dinner table. And other than a minor burn or two, what damage is likely to be done by some sparklers or small non exploding fireworks while being used under parental supervision? That's not the point. The point is that if something did happen, it is not likely that a law suit with an enormous payout would result.
On the same vacation we rented an ATV that I rode on a course with our child, no helmets offered or available, and no legal waiver to sign either. The family rented time at an archery center where the weapons (with sharp points no less!) were handed over for use under no supervision. At the water slide park, the lines at the top of the slides went unsupervised. Any rambunctious teen or near blind grandpa could negligently start sliding out of turn. Near the edge of the river, pool, or cliff there are no rails, or warning signs reminding passers by to not run or to not smoke or to hold on.
Maybe, just maybe, one could argue that it is a little less safe here, but it actually feels more free to me. People are expected to act in a responsible manner. Adults are not treated like children. Parents are assumed to be responsible and capable of supervising the kids. And you know what, people, at least here, do respond positively it appears to me. Things are not reckless or out of control.
Would Americans respond similarly if given the chance? Seems to me that America used to be more like Japan is now, in terms of these minor safety matters. I don't recall any problems, not for the vast majority of people anyway.
A few minutes later, as we waited for the check in process to end, another family arrived. The same employee handing over fireworks to what appeared to be another 7 year old girl and her younger brother, who looked about 4 years old to me. The free hanabi at the hotel routine is quite common in fact.
The kids love hanabi and it gives them something to do after dinner. Not to mention the fact that parents can use the prospect of fun with hanabi as a bribe for good behavior at the dinner table. And other than a minor burn or two, what damage is likely to be done by some sparklers or small non exploding fireworks while being used under parental supervision? That's not the point. The point is that if something did happen, it is not likely that a law suit with an enormous payout would result.
On the same vacation we rented an ATV that I rode on a course with our child, no helmets offered or available, and no legal waiver to sign either. The family rented time at an archery center where the weapons (with sharp points no less!) were handed over for use under no supervision. At the water slide park, the lines at the top of the slides went unsupervised. Any rambunctious teen or near blind grandpa could negligently start sliding out of turn. Near the edge of the river, pool, or cliff there are no rails, or warning signs reminding passers by to not run or to not smoke or to hold on.
Maybe, just maybe, one could argue that it is a little less safe here, but it actually feels more free to me. People are expected to act in a responsible manner. Adults are not treated like children. Parents are assumed to be responsible and capable of supervising the kids. And you know what, people, at least here, do respond positively it appears to me. Things are not reckless or out of control.
Would Americans respond similarly if given the chance? Seems to me that America used to be more like Japan is now, in terms of these minor safety matters. I don't recall any problems, not for the vast majority of people anyway.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Hot Water
The big thing to do on vacation in Japan, at least for older people like me, is to go to a Japanese hot bath. These places are known as Onsens. They range in variety from being an actual hole in the ground, to being attached to a fine and modern hotel, or often they are old fashioned smaller mom and pop establishments that offer nude public outdoor hot springs bathing, delicious meals, rooms in the Japanese style (tatami mats and no beds), and an opportunity to experience Japan the way it was before America invaded. The waters are typically fed by volcanic forces that provide a constant stream of hot, sulfuric, and mineral filled water. The baths are usually larger, like the size of a small swimming pool, but sometimes smaller.
By the way, unlike in America, there is no connection between these public baths and any sexual high jinx. The Japanese public baths seem to be family places, often used by the elderly who feel that the volcanic waters feeding the baths will offer some sort of medical treatment. Also, you never ever bring soap into the bath. You shower before and wash off the soap before using the public hot bath as a place to soak and relax.
We like the older fashioned places. The challenge for me, at times, is that the older fashioned places do not cater to or have signs readable by foreigners. Instead, these places use kanji, the Japanese and Chinese symbol based language. Is this the ladies bath or the men's or mixed? It took me years to figure out the kanji. The symbol for the ladies bath looks like it has crossed legs whereas the men's bath kanji symbol has a block head.
This year we visited one very old fashioned onsen built half way up a steep mountain. It was more camping style, but did offer simple meals along with outdoor baths that had a beautiful view. It was an isolated place that required a long drive up a mountain road or a 4 hour hike. We hitched a ride in with the owner's wife who met us at the local train station and then we hiked out.
I was the first in the family to head out to the hot bath. The outdoor bath was tiny, maybe 2 or 3 times the size of a home bath tub and I could not see a changing room. Oh well, the view was spectacular so I started to peel off my clothes. Suddenly, my wife was shouting to me to stop. Oh no!!!! I was about to strip and jump into the DOG'S bath. Yes, this place specialized in having a separate hot bath for pets. I had never seen or heard of such a thing before. Too bad I could could not read the kanji sign. It probably said something like "This bath is for pets and illiterate foreigners only. Do not enter unless you want to get fleas!"
A cultural boo boo that was narrowly averted. The bath for humans was up a flight of stairs that I had not noticed.
By the way, unlike in America, there is no connection between these public baths and any sexual high jinx. The Japanese public baths seem to be family places, often used by the elderly who feel that the volcanic waters feeding the baths will offer some sort of medical treatment. Also, you never ever bring soap into the bath. You shower before and wash off the soap before using the public hot bath as a place to soak and relax.
We like the older fashioned places. The challenge for me, at times, is that the older fashioned places do not cater to or have signs readable by foreigners. Instead, these places use kanji, the Japanese and Chinese symbol based language. Is this the ladies bath or the men's or mixed? It took me years to figure out the kanji. The symbol for the ladies bath looks like it has crossed legs whereas the men's bath kanji symbol has a block head.
This year we visited one very old fashioned onsen built half way up a steep mountain. It was more camping style, but did offer simple meals along with outdoor baths that had a beautiful view. It was an isolated place that required a long drive up a mountain road or a 4 hour hike. We hitched a ride in with the owner's wife who met us at the local train station and then we hiked out.
I was the first in the family to head out to the hot bath. The outdoor bath was tiny, maybe 2 or 3 times the size of a home bath tub and I could not see a changing room. Oh well, the view was spectacular so I started to peel off my clothes. Suddenly, my wife was shouting to me to stop. Oh no!!!! I was about to strip and jump into the DOG'S bath. Yes, this place specialized in having a separate hot bath for pets. I had never seen or heard of such a thing before. Too bad I could could not read the kanji sign. It probably said something like "This bath is for pets and illiterate foreigners only. Do not enter unless you want to get fleas!"
A cultural boo boo that was narrowly averted. The bath for humans was up a flight of stairs that I had not noticed.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Storage
If you live in Japan you probably need storage space. The house and apartments are small, for economic as well as cultural reasons. Japanese people seem to be efficient users of space, so they don't usually rent at public storage. Good for them.
We are efficiently using our limited space, but there's my beloved bike. No room at the inn. So I keep it at my mother in law's house. She has lot's of room because the back yard used to be a farm area.
At the rear of the house, in geographical order, there is an outhouse (last used in 1967), a shed for gardening equipment, barn filled with who know's what, the old house, the work shop (last used in December 2000 according to the calendar inside), and the small rear storage shed.
Bikes are kept in the small rear storage shed as the other buildings are innundated with spiders, falling apart, damp and moldy from leaks in the roof, or inhabited by my brother in law, in the case of the old house.
Imagine my balding head as a pin ball. That would make the work shop and the attached small rear storage shed a pin ball machine filled with rusty bumpers and junk with which I can bounce off of. How do you think I do it? What makes me so bad? It's not some strange distractions. There aren't any buzzers or bells. Always bump in the same place; could I use my sense of smell? Like a crazy bald headed pin ball, klutzy without fail. Living in a land of midgets, I quit, what the hell.
To date, I have repeatedly smacked my head on the rusted out light standards hanging approximatedly 4.5 feet from the floor (were Japanese people ever that short?), knocked over a half dozen empty plastic gasoline cans, tripped on the rake, which then fell and hit me in the face while knocking over 3 more plastic gasoline cans, tripped over some leftover plastic sheeting, and smacked my forehead on a door jamb. This is just within the first two weeks of using the storage area. Since then, I have tripped over the metal sheet on the floor, and covered myself with rust after dislodging another light standard when attempting to retrieve an air pump that was stored behind an old rice field plow.
Welcome to rural Japan. Please enjoy the storage while feeling like an oversized klutz.
We are efficiently using our limited space, but there's my beloved bike. No room at the inn. So I keep it at my mother in law's house. She has lot's of room because the back yard used to be a farm area.
At the rear of the house, in geographical order, there is an outhouse (last used in 1967), a shed for gardening equipment, barn filled with who know's what, the old house, the work shop (last used in December 2000 according to the calendar inside), and the small rear storage shed.
Bikes are kept in the small rear storage shed as the other buildings are innundated with spiders, falling apart, damp and moldy from leaks in the roof, or inhabited by my brother in law, in the case of the old house.
Imagine my balding head as a pin ball. That would make the work shop and the attached small rear storage shed a pin ball machine filled with rusty bumpers and junk with which I can bounce off of. How do you think I do it? What makes me so bad? It's not some strange distractions. There aren't any buzzers or bells. Always bump in the same place; could I use my sense of smell? Like a crazy bald headed pin ball, klutzy without fail. Living in a land of midgets, I quit, what the hell.
To date, I have repeatedly smacked my head on the rusted out light standards hanging approximatedly 4.5 feet from the floor (were Japanese people ever that short?), knocked over a half dozen empty plastic gasoline cans, tripped on the rake, which then fell and hit me in the face while knocking over 3 more plastic gasoline cans, tripped over some leftover plastic sheeting, and smacked my forehead on a door jamb. This is just within the first two weeks of using the storage area. Since then, I have tripped over the metal sheet on the floor, and covered myself with rust after dislodging another light standard when attempting to retrieve an air pump that was stored behind an old rice field plow.
Welcome to rural Japan. Please enjoy the storage while feeling like an oversized klutz.
Monday, August 3, 2009
ID
ID, as in Identification card, specifically a government issued photo ID Card is endemic in the USA. To enter the boarding area of an airport, to enter a courthouse or other government building, to take a hotel room, to get your blood tested, to rent a car, to open a bank account, even to pick up your mail at the post office all require a government issued photo ID.
Some might say I am overly sensitive, OK most people would say I am overly sensitive if they could stop themselves from snickering, nonetheless I am offended by the mandates requiring a photo ID. The ID requirement is an invasion of privacy. It wasn't all that long ago that photo ID cards were not required in the USA. My first driver's license in Pennsylvania didn't even have a photo.
They always say it's for safety, for our own good, to prevent terrorism or other such nonsense. It's really about the government wanting to spy on and exercise control over people. Think about it, there is no way that any photo ID could have prevented 9-11 from occurring. Having the photo ID mandate means there is a record of what you have done, a means of tracking your behavior and a means of denying access to something or someplace. I don't like it.
What does this have to do with Japan?
One reason I moved to Japan was to escape from the encroachments of a Police State in the USA. Photo ID mandates are a minor irritation, but an intrusive one and an ever growing one that I resent.
Here in Japan, I did not have to show photo ID to take a hotel room, or to board a domestic airplane flight, though I did, as a foreigner, have to show a registration card that had my photo in order to open a bank account. Most recently, I had to pick up a piece of mail at the post office. The clerk said something about a card (Ka-Do) and even though I had a photo ID handy, I purposely decided to show her a health insurance card with my name on it, but with no photo.
Maybe she just didn’t want to bother trying to communicate with a non Japanese speaking person, I am not sure, but she handed over the envelope without any further questioning.
A small victory for freedom. And I didn't even bump my head in the process. I'll comment on that cultural quirk in a future blog.
Some might say I am overly sensitive, OK most people would say I am overly sensitive if they could stop themselves from snickering, nonetheless I am offended by the mandates requiring a photo ID. The ID requirement is an invasion of privacy. It wasn't all that long ago that photo ID cards were not required in the USA. My first driver's license in Pennsylvania didn't even have a photo.
They always say it's for safety, for our own good, to prevent terrorism or other such nonsense. It's really about the government wanting to spy on and exercise control over people. Think about it, there is no way that any photo ID could have prevented 9-11 from occurring. Having the photo ID mandate means there is a record of what you have done, a means of tracking your behavior and a means of denying access to something or someplace. I don't like it.
What does this have to do with Japan?
One reason I moved to Japan was to escape from the encroachments of a Police State in the USA. Photo ID mandates are a minor irritation, but an intrusive one and an ever growing one that I resent.
Here in Japan, I did not have to show photo ID to take a hotel room, or to board a domestic airplane flight, though I did, as a foreigner, have to show a registration card that had my photo in order to open a bank account. Most recently, I had to pick up a piece of mail at the post office. The clerk said something about a card (Ka-Do) and even though I had a photo ID handy, I purposely decided to show her a health insurance card with my name on it, but with no photo.
Maybe she just didn’t want to bother trying to communicate with a non Japanese speaking person, I am not sure, but she handed over the envelope without any further questioning.
A small victory for freedom. And I didn't even bump my head in the process. I'll comment on that cultural quirk in a future blog.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Laundering
As my foreign registration card finally arrived, it was time to open a bank account at the local branch across the street from my mother in law's house. Conveniently, the bank is open from 9AM until 3PM. The first thing you notice when trying to do business at the bank is the rigid bureaucracy.
Prior to any transaction the clerk will typically consult a file containing step by step instructions, especially if a foreign person is trying to do something. Next, the manager must be consulted prior to any action taking place. Before any transaction is complete, the manager must give a verbal approval as well as place his ink pad stamp of approval on a piece of paper. Other than the fetish for these ink pad stamps, it isn't really much different than doing business with a USA based bank. Slow and bureaucratic.
All I wanted to do was open a lousy bank account and put a few hundred thousand Yen in there. That's a few thousand dollars for the foreign exchange disadvantaged.
I took one look at the bank branch manager and knew it wasn't going to be easy. The guy is a dead ringer for Deputy Barney Fife, from the Andy Griffith Show.
For those who have never seen the Andy Griffith Show (under age 40 perhaps) I can only suggest you click on the link above to see what a bean pole Barney Fife looked like. The character was a hyper nervous and excitable type who was always on the look out for something suspicious, even though he was a Deputy in a small rural North Carolina town that never experienced a crime of any severity.
The Japanese Barney Fife eyed me with suspicion but allowed me to open the account. Then, I asked him for the bank's SWIFT code so I could wire funds into the account. He handed over the code.
Barney must have spent a sleepless night worrying about my new account because our phone rang at 9:01AM the next morning. Deputy Fife was on the line and he was very nervous about my activities. He suspected I would be engaging in money laundering and wanted to know why I opened the account and what I planned on doing in Japan.
Did he really think we would tell him we intended on engaging in money laundering? If the guy accused me of this ridiculous charge in English, I probably would have lost my temper American style and threatened to close the account.
Yuriko, however, handled it as smooth as silk, the Japanese way while giving the guy a complete brush off. Told him I was here for personal reasons and the account would be used for personal activities. Believe it or not, he accepted this explanation, at least for now. I have a strange feeling that Deputy Barney Fife will be monitoring me and my activities.
Prior to any transaction the clerk will typically consult a file containing step by step instructions, especially if a foreign person is trying to do something. Next, the manager must be consulted prior to any action taking place. Before any transaction is complete, the manager must give a verbal approval as well as place his ink pad stamp of approval on a piece of paper. Other than the fetish for these ink pad stamps, it isn't really much different than doing business with a USA based bank. Slow and bureaucratic.
All I wanted to do was open a lousy bank account and put a few hundred thousand Yen in there. That's a few thousand dollars for the foreign exchange disadvantaged.
I took one look at the bank branch manager and knew it wasn't going to be easy. The guy is a dead ringer for Deputy Barney Fife, from the Andy Griffith Show.
For those who have never seen the Andy Griffith Show (under age 40 perhaps) I can only suggest you click on the link above to see what a bean pole Barney Fife looked like. The character was a hyper nervous and excitable type who was always on the look out for something suspicious, even though he was a Deputy in a small rural North Carolina town that never experienced a crime of any severity.
The Japanese Barney Fife eyed me with suspicion but allowed me to open the account. Then, I asked him for the bank's SWIFT code so I could wire funds into the account. He handed over the code.
Barney must have spent a sleepless night worrying about my new account because our phone rang at 9:01AM the next morning. Deputy Fife was on the line and he was very nervous about my activities. He suspected I would be engaging in money laundering and wanted to know why I opened the account and what I planned on doing in Japan.
Did he really think we would tell him we intended on engaging in money laundering? If the guy accused me of this ridiculous charge in English, I probably would have lost my temper American style and threatened to close the account.
Yuriko, however, handled it as smooth as silk, the Japanese way while giving the guy a complete brush off. Told him I was here for personal reasons and the account would be used for personal activities. Believe it or not, he accepted this explanation, at least for now. I have a strange feeling that Deputy Barney Fife will be monitoring me and my activities.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Arrival
The jet lag is over, the boxes are opened, and most of our "stuff" has been put away in it's proper place. Is inability to have a conversation with your neighbors and relatives an adventure? Then Andy is having a great adventure. There is freedom in starting over in a new place and an odd sort of freedom if you can not interact with people even if you wanted to. They can ask you to do something, but you wouldn't know what they are asking. I am studying religiously and should be fluent within decades.
Japan seems friendly, as usual, but it is an extreemely difficult place to be an ex-patriot in my opinion. Tough to get a VISA and the paperwork to obtain a foreignors registration was impossible if not for a flunt Japanese spouse. The registration card is mandatory and without it I can not open a bank account. If you want to leave America and you are not well connected in Japan, I would suggest you try another country.
Future topics will include culture shock and my reasons for wanting to come here.
For cyclists, the local mountain (just under 5,000 feet of climbing, much at 10% grade) has netted 2 mediocre efforts, one awesome effort, and 2 sorry efforts at dragging myself to the top. I will improve.
How boring is this blog? Let me know if you are still awake.
Japan seems friendly, as usual, but it is an extreemely difficult place to be an ex-patriot in my opinion. Tough to get a VISA and the paperwork to obtain a foreignors registration was impossible if not for a flunt Japanese spouse. The registration card is mandatory and without it I can not open a bank account. If you want to leave America and you are not well connected in Japan, I would suggest you try another country.
Future topics will include culture shock and my reasons for wanting to come here.
For cyclists, the local mountain (just under 5,000 feet of climbing, much at 10% grade) has netted 2 mediocre efforts, one awesome effort, and 2 sorry efforts at dragging myself to the top. I will improve.
How boring is this blog? Let me know if you are still awake.
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