OCTOBER 2003
2nd October
How’s it going? I finally did it, I finally got a haircut. It’s not so bad, but it was an experience I can tell you. Have you ever tried getting your haircut, but not being able to explain what you want? It’s really scary. I tried communicating that I wanted it “like this picture”, and tried asking the barber to use an electric razor on the back and sides “Sumimasen, ushiro to migi to hidari, denwa kamisori, onegai-shimasu”. It’s only now that I realise, instead of asking for an electric razor (denki kamisori), I asked for a telephone razor (denwa kamisori); no wonder the poor lass was thoroughly perplexed! I’m not sure if I’ve only ever been to the cheapest, most run down establishments in the UK, or if it’s only in Japan that the customer is offered a FOREHEAD SHAVE!!! Personally, I’ve never had a problem with the level of hair on my forehead, but clearly I must look so hairy over here that they want to shave every inch of my facial skin. I’m back to boring brown hair now, and the disappointment of the school kids’ was tangible.
So, having lost that golden aura, I decided that I’d need to re-ingratiate myself with the children again. I donned a pair of trainers, and marched out to the playing fields (actually, dust bowl is more accurate), to play “soccer” with the boys. My footballing skills aren’t renowned in Britain, but it’s a different kettle of fish here, and I felt like the kid with all the tricks that everyone in the playground aspired to be. I didn’t however, count on my exceedingly low level of fitness, and was out of breath and struggling within minutes. The dust from the pitch coated my throat, and I was coughing, hacking and wheezing all afternoon. However, no regrets, I’ll persevere. Gambarimasu!!
6th October
The inevitable has occurred, and I’ve finally relented to the pressure to get a “keitei” (mobile phone). I really didn’t want to do this, partly because I’m just not a phone person, and partly because Japanese person + keitei = really annoying.
Japanese phones are incredibly advanced. I thought I’d be a luddite and get a bottom of the range one, but even my phone has a full-colour display, built in camera, and internet access, yet can fit perfectly into my pocket and isn’t much bigger than my Nokia was back in Britain. A news article on TV tonight declared that the newest generation of Japanese mobile now has Global Positioning System built in! It was a revelation to discover that every car in this country has GPS, but now every daft fool who can’t read a map will be able to type in their destination and be led there step by step, with even the journey time on foot broken down for them!!
Japan is the ultimate convenience society, and people can now organise their entire lives through a hand-held keitei. The best phones have digital photo resolution that is close to that of the better digital cameras, have built in organisers, internet mode so you don’t need to log onto a computer again, even stereo sound, computer games etcetc. Yet it has also caused the population to become completely addicted to their hand sets. If I had a penny for every time I’d seen a school kid cycling and talking on a keitei, I’d be a rich man. People don’t look at each other on trains any more. They read Manga Porn or play with their Keitei’s.
Another facet of this convenience society is the total depersonalisation of everyday life. I wish I had some facts and figures for the number of 24hour Convenience shops or countless billion vending machines that can be found EVERYWHERE. Supposedly they’ve managed to hook a Vending Machine up to the top of Mount Fuji, but I haven’t had the privilege of seeing it yet! Everything is just so easy that it becomes depressing. Sorry, I’m not explaining myself very well.
So, I’ve experienced this creeping fear that by buying into aspects of everyday Japanese popular culture, I might slowly start to morph into a Japanese person, and believe me when I say this is something that deeply worries me! If I start buying cutesy-poo (kawaii) “keitei” straps featuring Disney characters, or Japanese cartoon strips, then you have my permission to shoot me. It might sound crazy (no, it doesn’t sound it, it IS crazy), but nearly every Japanese person or foreigner who’s been here for more than six months has bought into the Japanese obsession with “cute”. I don’t want to become a statistic!
I’m about to go to bed very early now. I’ve got a “business trip” to the regional Speech Contest tomorrow, and I must leave Shiraoka at, wait for it, 7.39am, great. Can you sense my anticipation? Write to you in a few days.
10th October 2003 – Spending like a Japanese
My relentless slide into Japaneseness took another sickening step today. It was a normal day, just like any other. After a day slogging it out in the office, trying to keep myself from getting bored, I retired to my house where I got changed to go to my Japanese lesson. I guess since I left Oxford, I’ve felt anonymous. No longer am I living amongst the finest minds in Britain. I’m just another foreigner trying to get along with the day-to-day humdrum. So when I asked my teacher “am I doing ok?”, I suppose it was a cry out for someone to validate me, or mark me or something. Having always had my life geared towards exams has had many negative side effects, this being one of its recent manifestations. “Oh yes, sugoi” she exclaimed (means “wonderful”); but then, she would say that, unless she’s trying to get fired!
So, drunk on my own sense of perceived success, I headed to Omiya for some window shopping. I’m generally careful with my money, but every now and then I do something so rash as to totally undo all my care and restraint, and then some. I walked into the digicam shop, and spotted a gorgeous little camera on the shelf. It’s minute, 3.2 megapixels, optical and digital zoom, e-mail function, English (yesssss) menu option – the works. And a snip at only £200, plus the memory card, plus a suede cover (£230). I bought it in the heat of the moment, without thinking. I thought that if I handed over my credit card then I wasn’t really paying for it!
So here I am. A camera which I have no idea how to use. Of course the instructions are in Japanese, so I’ll be blundering through the functions for a while until I work out how to use it. When will I learn. In the space of a week I’ve totally ruined my staunch stance not to succumb to Japanese popular culture. At this rate I’ll be coming home at Christmas sporting a mullet, faux-punk designer clothing, and a misogynistic, xenophobic attitude (oh, hang on, I had that already).
Other news. Lost at Speech Contest, so a private high-five (in my mind) whilst consoling my pupil. Yesterday, one of the children fell unconscious in the playground. The ambulance arrived, but when he came to, he started having a fit, then refused to be taken to hospital, and ran around the school screaming, with all the male teachers in tow trying to smother him. It was hilarious. Eikiwa continues to go from shambolic to farcical. This week I tried to explain how the word “wallow” had an almost onomatopaeic quality. I enacted a man “wallowing” through a mire, and whilst lifting my leg said “WALLOW!”. Ricky was in stitches. His exact words were “the funniest part was the look on your face when you realised what you’d just said, that it didn’t make any sense, and how much of a prat you had therefore become”.
13th October
One of my favourite things about Japan are 100 yen shops. Like £1 shops in the UK, they sell loads of day to day utilities at reasonable prices, but for some reason don’t have the stigma attached to them that £1 shops do in Britain. Living by myself, I'm having to do all those things that I let mum do, or that I let the cleaner do in Oxford. Things like buying bathroom cleaner, surface cleaner, dishcloths, sponges, wipes, and all manner of things, and it hurts my heart.
Despite several half-hearted attempts to clean the mess that Clare (beatch) left my apartment in, I’d never gotten round to cleaning the really ingrained stuff in my bathrooms, so I decided to set the world to right. I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned how weird Japanese bathrooms are. First of all, as you enter a Japanese bathroom, be sure to take your shoes off, and put on the “toilet slippers” left for your convenience. Just make sure that you don’t leave the bathroom still wearing the toilet slippers, as the idiot Japanese will find this extremely funny. If you happen to stumble across a Japanese style toilet beware. They’re squatters, you don’t sit on a seat, apparently that’s dirty. I haven’t tried a Japanese toilet yet even after three months as I’m scared. If you are lucky you will find a European toilet, but for god’s sake don’t touch any of the buttons that run down the right-side of the toilet. There’s no telling what they might do (like rearrange your internal organs). Once again, I must admit that I haven’t ventured as far as to check the multiple functions of my own toilet even after after nearly three months. So, check out my new bathroom…My Toilet
In other news, I went to Yokohama, the second largest city in Japan on Saturday. It’s really just an extension of Tokyo. I met Kyoko again; the plan was to go to a man-made island in Tokyo Bay called “Odaiba”, but unfortunately the gloomy, cool and rainy weather put paid to that idea. Anyway, here are a few indiscriminately taken photos from the sea-front at Yokohama using my new digicam:Look dad, a boat, Ferris Wheel
And to cap things off, I’ll try to attach a few pictures of temply-type thingy’s from my town which I’m sure you all really want to see, ‘cos I know that’s what I thought Japan was before I came here!Real Japan
16th October
“Itai!!”, “Kayui desu!!”, “aka to atsui!!”. I’ve grown a nasty, red, hot, bumpy rash all over my body that looks like chickenpox, except that I don’t feel ill. I wasn’t sure if it was “dani”, the eponymous bed-bugs that plague the bedtimes of millions of youngsters across the world (but are infact a nasty reality in Japanese futons and tatami mats); “Jinmashin” or hives from stress and worry; or an allergy to some kind of food I’ve been eating (seems more likely); either way its been destroying my sleep and left me itching like flea-ridden mutt. I went to the doctor yesterday and was fobbed off with some expensive placebos. He says it was “kemshin”, a hairy caterpillar that’s in season and can cause this kind of reaction. I think it’s highly unlikely, as I haven’t been anywhere near moths or caterpillars recently.
Speaking of odd food, I had another Enkai last night. Raw fish again; this time they even served a platter of baby-octopi which were to be consumed whole, and which I indulged in immediately. I can’t say I was too fond of the texture! It was quite a boring affair compared to the more intimate Enkai at Seiga-chu. Everyone had to give a short speech in turn, which was infinitely more nerve-racking than the THREE times I took to the stage to sing karaoke! Ricky did great impressions of black singers Louis Armstrong and James Brown which had us rolling in the aisles, but I don’t think he’ll be able to speak for a few days! Pic1, Pic 2, Pic 3.
Despite putting minimal effort into learning Japanese I am slowly starting to notice an improvement. I’ve absorbed several different verb tenses, some polite and casual styles, and some more obscure forms, allowing me to communicate more than just what my name is and where I come from. I’m also picking up little snippets of sentences during lunch-time conversations (though just as often I switch off entirely).
I’ve got Eikiwa again tonight which is slightly depressing me. Other than discussing the above-mentioned themes with the oul dears, I can’t think of anything to teach. Days like this I wish I’d never volunteered to do night classes.
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