A Tale of Two IKEAs

Spring Revival Series #3

IKEA in Yokohama... nothing but blue and yellow (with a hint of a few other colors)

Today, I'm sitting at a wedding hall, waiting for the reception party of my wife's friend to start; I'm here 3 hours early because my wife needs to get her hair done. Her friend traveled to Miyako for our wedding party, so it's only right that I attend hers when invited. Now, I got some time to reminisce about my recent trip to IKEA.

To set the story backdrop... I really like IKEA. Stuff there, I think, are simply designed but fashionable, practical, and cheap. You aren't going to pass down an IKEA armoire like a precious family heirloom (maybe you can), but the furniture will last you some good years for the price you pay. And you won't have to cry when you have to throw it because you can't fit it in your moving van or truck. I enjoy the shopping experience, going through the showrooms and exploring the warehouse. I enjoy bringing home the tightly packed boxes of plastic, plywood, and metal. I enjoy putting those pieces together into something which becomes a part of my home, with my own hands. Above all, I admire the precision of IKEA furniture: Everything in the box has a purpose; you will very rarely find an unused or missing piece.

When I moved to Miyako, I was rather disappointed that the nearest IKEA was 4 to 5 hours away, in Sendai. I would have to resort to buying plain furniture from a regular home store in town. Luckily, a more abundant IKEA-like store called Nitori is 2 hours away in Morioka. Not an everyday shopping trip, but it's a bit more manageable.

Before this most recent trip, I haven't been to an IKEA in at least 5 years.

Act 1: The Swedish Reunion

*In case you didn't know, IKEA was founded in Sweden.

After my wife and I moved to Oyama, we hit up Tokyo-Yokohama for a final gathering of some Miyako veterans, since we're scattering soon. Because our friend Victor needed a toilet brush, we made an on-the-spot decision to go to IKEA in Yokohama. We really had no set plans until later, and my wife had never been to IKEA. So off we went in his car.

Even before coming off the expressway, we could see the humongous blue block, like that giant crystal shaped angel from Evangelion (Ramiel), that is synonymous with every IKEA in the world. After circling the monstrosity for 10 min to find the parking garage entrance, we entered the domain. Before we began the adventure, we stopped at the food court and wolfed down a few 100-yen hot dogs and 50-yen ice cream. We needed the energy for what's to come.

While my wife was ever amazed by the massiveness, I was able to contain my excitement for a bit. Even after a 5-year hiatus, having some prior experience helped with navigating this beast. Many new products had come out since, but many things remained the same.

One thing never changes: IKEA is designed to be a one-way maze trap. In most cases, you are forced to start from the top floor, and work your way through the winding corridors and aisles, down to the cash registers near the entrance on the bottom floor. And somewhere in the middle, something will catch your eyes and you'll buy it.

   

Daiso doesn't stand a chance against these prices.  But do you really need 100 tea candles at home?

In our quest to get a toilet brush, which was only 99 yen, we spent 2.5 hours there. Originally intended on window-shopping only, I ended up with a wooden snack bowl and a set of magnetic tin cans, and my wife bought some horse shaped kitchen sponges. Things that are useful but aren't really needed. We even bought some snacks from the IKEA grocery store. The "magical" business model worked.

Our original objective.  Would you spend over 2 hours looking

for a super-cheap but stylish toilet brush?  We did...

Act 2: Return to the Big Blue Beast

Since my wife and I just moved into our new place, we still needed furniture. Living off of our recent excitement, we decided to go back to IKEA. Also, my wife's sister was visiting, so we wanted to show her the "adventure of the big blue beast".

We didn't go back to the one in Yokohama, of course. We found another one in Saitama, just an hour away by car in the adjacent prefecture. We had made a wish-list from our trip yesterday, so I figure we won't be trapped there.

I was wrong.

The 3 of us started with same routine as yesterday - stopped at the food court first for some hot dogs, then walked up a grand wide set of stairs to the start of the maze on the 2nd floor. After an hour in, I admitted to my wife that this trip wasn't as fun as yesterday's, but it didn't stop us from exploring every showroom and aisle.

The grand sterile staircase where our Swedish LOTR journey started.

Our unchecked browsing had turned our IKEA adventure into a "trail of tears". 2 hours in, and we're only done with the 2nd floor. We ended up eating dinner there.

This floor plan makes navigating IKEA look like child's play.  Then again, 

there are probably children's games that boggle the minds of grown-ups.

Like McDonald's, IKEA tries to adapt its in-store restaurant to its host countries. No sushi in IKEA Japan though. We (all 3 of us) went for the veggie meatballs.

Next, IKEA will charge you to use its knives and forks...

Another thing which IKEA is infamous for... being a cheapskate. Every little thing cost money; you can expect nothing to come included, not even a AAA battery for a 200-yen clock (which we bought today). The restaurant was no different. Even a small slap of butter cost 20 yen. But hey, a 20-yen butter or a 100-yen dinner roll sold in volume is a lot of money.

The 1st floor was even more grueling. We're trying to keep our browsing in check, but we spent too much energy before dinner. It also didn't help that at times I would run off like a little kid when something caught my attention.

If you want how the Hobbits felt in LOTR, walking around

inside an IKEA for 4 hours may be the next closest thing.

Another hour and a half, we finally made it to the warehouse section, where people can fetch boxes of to-be-assembled furniture on their own. I was surprised that my wife still had the energy to push-and-ride her cart down the warehouse aisles like a little kid. I guess you got to find fun where you can, even after a long day inside this Swedish LOTR journey.

  

Did you think I was joking about 100-yen hot dogs?

4+ hours later, we made it out, just in time before the store closed. And once again, we came out with lots of stuff that we didn't need (like that 200 yen clock which can be a timer, thermometer, calendar, and alarm clock, depending on which side it sat on... kinda cool), on top of what's on our original list. We even bought beer (who would've thought IKEA sells beer!?). Most importantly, my wife's sister had a good time, so we succeeded as hosts.

I wonder if/when we will go back...

How IKEA is getting your children's money: 3 yen per gram at a time.

The answer: a month later.

* 110 yen = 1 USD
** LOTR = Lord of the Rings, also known as the "walking tour of New Zealand"

Be Careful of "Maybe"...

Another East vs. West Culture Clash

I'm having some trouble finishing another post, so I'll move on to something else for now - something easier.

I was out with my wife last night.  We decided (or I decided and she didn't object) that since we moved to a new and bigger city, we would make the most of this opportunity and explore. For example, trying out a new restaurant every week. Not that my wife isn't an excellent cook, but it's about forcing ourselves to get out of the house and experiencing life. Looking back, I've always regretted not being more adventurous with the many mom-and-pop places in Miyako. Our new hometown has no shortage of places to eat, and new ones seem to be appearing left and right. My wife had often said that this city has nothing but places to eat.

We went to a rather fancy Italian place near the JR station, which I've wanted to try since I found it the night before the interview for my current job. A bit expensive, but it's one in a blue moon, and the food was fantastic. For some reason, we started talking about a possible meetup in Tokyo with the old crew and how likely I'll go. Then, the word maybe came up.

 

Earlier this week, I had mentioned that one of my elementary school teachers in Miyako invited me back for a sports festival (in elementary schools, these festivals are usually fun since they have events for guests to participate and win stuff). It's next weekend, and I said maybe I'll go. Apparently, my wife interpreted the comment as "I'm going back to Miyako next weekend, so I won't be going to Tokyo".

This conversation brought me back to last year, before I had proposed to my then-girlfriend-now-wife. Many of my Japanese friends and teachers wondered if I'd be getting married. Although I was already certain that I would be, my answer was always "maybe" or the Japanese version of it (たぶん). At the time, I didn't have all the pieces to make a final decision, and something could've happened to change my mind the next day. However, my maybe always got people excited.

At first, I didn't think much of the excitement. I mean, hearing someone possibly getting married is exciting, and the folks in Miyako are generally cheerful and expressive. However, as the question kept coming up and people kept getting overly excited, I became suspicious. Finally, I asked one of my Japanese friends what she thought of maybe, in terms of percentage. Her answer surprised me: about 80% likely.

Back to last night's dinner conversation... I asked my wife the same question: what does she think of maybe, in terms of percentage? She gave the same answer as my friend, about 80%.

I explained to my wife, as I had to my friend before, that in my mind, and maybe in other Americans' minds, maybe means around 50%, kind of a cop-out answer when you aren't sure about something. Now, there's a running joke between my wife and me, whenever maybe is used. I know it's only been a day, but I use maybe a lot.

So next time you decide to tell your Japanese friend or partner "maybe", you may want to think twice about what it means to him/her.

To everyone out there: What do you think of maybe?

I found this nice line diagram of maybe and other probability words on the net.
Courtesy of english-hanasitaino.seesaa.net

Finding an Apartment

Spring Revival Series #2


Moving to "Little Mountain" in Tochigi...

You may not want to live here, but you may not have a choice...

On my previous post of the Spring Revival Series, it was said that spring is a time of change in Japan. Towards the end of March, besides plane loads of foreigners coming to start their new careers as ALTs, many more Japanese and ex-pats are changing jobs. This means finding a new place to live and moving (hence a good time for the cardboard industry and secondhand stores).

I'm in the same boat this year: I got out of a big ALT dispatch company and went direct-hire (maybe I'll make a post on this topic). The benefit of being employed by a company is that it took care of my housing. At the start, I just showed up at the real estate agent's office and the paperwork was ready to be signed and stamped, with a company-assigned Japanese helper in tow. When something needed to be fixed, I emailed the company and it took care of everything. When I moved out, the company arranged for the real estate agent and all the utilities to close things out.

Life was easy... Going on my own was very different.

Going direct-hire comes with much higher pay and getting legally required employer's benefits (yes, I didn't get those with a dispatch company), but unless specified, I am on my own for housing. No help from my new BoE.

When I was sure that I got the new job at the end of February, my wife started the apartment search. Since we both had work until mid-March, all we could do was looking online. My understanding of written Japanese is limited, so I first looked on Gaijinpot, but it was useless since I'm not moving to the main foreigner hubs of Tokyo and Yokohama. Chintai, Suumo, and similar Japanese sites became our best friends.

Before we head down south to look in person, my wife made appointments with a few big-name real estate agencies - Daitou Kentaku (大東建託), House Komu (ハウスコム), and Able Network (エイブルネットワーク). We decided on specific places, a price range, and a "wish list" of things we want in an apartment. I wanted to think that we were ready to take on our new city. I even bought a tape measure from Daiso, at the suggestion from my wife.

The "Wish List":

• 2LDK
• Similar rent to my apartment in Miyako (~55,000 yen)
• No reikin (basically, "thank you" money to the landlord for allowing me to rent with him/her)
• No more than 1 month's deposit
• No tatami room (mats cost ~10,000 yen each to replace, either taken out of my deposit or paid out-of-pocket before move-out... imagine how much for a room with 6, 8, or 10 mats!)
• At least 1 parking spot included
• In a convenient location

The Experience:

Day 1

We started our mid-March weekend with Daitou Kentaku. We were greeted politely, in the usual Japanese fashion, by our assigned agent, who was this rather tall Japanese woman. While we waited, we were offered tea and coffee. I let my wife take care of all the talking, since it's all in Japanese. Also, I've read a lot about housing discrimination on foreigners in Japan, so I made a point to keep my mouth shut and only nod at strategic moments of our conversations. Before we left the office to look at places, we had to drop the bombshell: I, the primary renter, am a gaijin. I could sense a slight change in tone, some uncertainty, and a little more discussion between the agent and my wife. In the end, our agent confirmed that the landlords didn't have a problem with my status.

We went to 2 places in the agent's car. Both were nice apartments but we found something "wrong" with each. On the 1st place, we spotted some shifty looking kids playing soccer outside. My wife had the sharp eyes and caught some graffiti on the mailbox: Shinu ("Die" in Japanese), implying something may have gone wrong with the previous resident(s). In the 2nd place, the room spaces were oddly arranged, and the building was next to a farm, with lots of bugs flying around outside already in March. We weren't too satisfied with the selection, but the day had just started, so we decided to move onto the next agency.

Next, we went to House Komu. Again, I allowed my wife to do all the talking. After looking at our options, my wife had to tell our agent that I'm a foreigner. Then, there was a clear change in tone. Although the agent said it should be fine, the service noticeably became less friendly, although everyone didn't seem particularly friendly to begin with. The agent sent another guy to take us around, and all 3 units which we were shown were odd and poorly maintained, almost falsely advertised compared to the listings online. The 1st one was nice and modern, but had many obvious signs of wear-and-tear and broken things. The 2nd place looked like hippies may have lived there; one room had this 1970's style brick-red sheet tile flooring while other rooms had hardwood floors. Plus, it had a huge gravel garden, and it's next to a small industrial warehouse. The 3rd place... let's just say that both my wife and I wanted to run away as soon as we walked in, but we tried to be polite and entertained our agent by pretending to look through the rooms. Throughout the tour, our agent/driver hardly said anything. Hell, at least the woman from Daitou Kentaku made conversations with us in the car.

Back at the office, I felt like the agents were pressuring us to apply for one of the apartments (the 1st place, or the least shitty one). But they were right - the application held the place for us while we used the next day to explore other options, plus we could always cancel it. Also, they suggested the rental contract to be under my wife, but with me as the primary breadwinner, we/they didn't have a choice. Hands down, House Komu didn't win the best service award from us that weekend.

We would try our luck the next day.

Day 2

The night before, I told my wife that I would conduct a little experiment - instead of keeping my mouth shut, I would throw in some Japanese to see how we (I) would be treated. We had a little problem getting to Able Network; Google Maps kept taking us to the back of the building, so we drove in circles for 10 min. Our agent today was this overweight Japanese man with a very high-pitch talking voice, but he was very friendly. This is good sign #1. When we dropped the foreigner bombshell on him, he also said that it should be fine, in the same high-pitch voice, but he would need to formally confirm things after the viewing. Good sign #2. Further, as we looked through the listings at the office, our agent would tell us important info about the apartments, the landlords, etc. And this is after he found out I'm a gaijin. Good sign #3.

The 1st place we went to was actually in the same apartment complex as the 1st place we saw with House Komu, just the next building over. But the difference was remarkable. This apartment was clean and well maintained, e.g. no broken outlets or patches of scratched-off paint on the door edges. The 2nd place was just as remarkable. It was in a quiet but convenient neighborhood, and it was clear that the landlord cared about his buildings, since many things were recently added or replaced. Both places were in the most convenient neighborhood in town, at the price range we wanted, while the agencies yesterday said that it couldn't be done. We didn't know which one to take, but we knew we would take one of the two today.

Back at the office, we made our decision: we chose the 2nd place. Sure, the 1st place has electronic locks and is 1-min walk from a Spanish restaurant (yes, that's right). But the other place was just as nice, and it's within walking distance to everything we need to live (other than work). With a few hours left before the journey back to Miyako, we were very happy and relieved that we didn't give into desperation.


The Cliffhanger:

Just we breathed a sign of relief, we ran into problems... again, due to my gaijin-ness. Apparently, (1) giving the impression (or illusion) of Japanese fluency and (2) being married to a Japanese woman weren't enough. From the answers and expressions of our agent on the phone with the landlord, it wasn't good news. He even went to the back of the office to talk on another phone, away from us.

* For any Japanese readers, in the West, when someone doesn't want you to listen in on a phone conversation, he/she also goes to a more private phone to talk.

Then, the agent came back to ask me what I do/will do for a living. Apparently, being an English teacher was the final power-up that I need - all was well after he told the landlord.


The Surprises:

The man always has ways to get your money, and the same is true in Japan. You may think you are saving some money by going "no reikin" or no tatami, but the fees will come in other names. Cleaning fee, the "optional" lock changing (it's not something we want to risk, so it's not really an option), management fee, no-guarantor-needed fee (even though we had asked my wife's dad to be one). And of course, the real estate agency needs its cut, which comes in the broker's fee. Luckily, we came at a good time, during a promotion when the broker's fee is waived, but we had to stay at this apartment for 2 years... no problem.

Since we had to pay for this month's and next month's rent (thank goodness, not on the spot), it's about 220,000 yen (~$2,000) to start a new life in Tochigi. By the way, this is an unfurnished apartment...


The Closing:

After filling more paperwork and getting a phone call from some lady, we would still have to wait for our application to be approved, which takes a day or so. I mean, it was Sunday. Meanwhile, my wife called to tell the other real estate agencies that we weren't interested anymore, in the usual ultra-polite, keigo-ridden, soft-voiced Japanese phone mannerism. Off to a late lunch and a long journey back.


Looking back...  If you don't want the hassle of finding your own place, and you can live on your lower pay, and your school situation is good, stay with your dispatch company (can't believe I said it).  You may not need semi-fluent Japanese to do your job, but you need it for everything else.  If you are brave and/or ambitious enough to go on your own, and you are single, go with a Leopalace.

For me, if I didn't have a Japanese wife or wasn't a "teacher", getting an apartment was likely impossible.  Not everything is a dream in Japan...

How to be a successful "inaka" ALT

Spring Revival Series #1

I recently realized that I haven't written in my blog for almost a year. To counter my laziness, I decided to restart my blog with a "revival series". Let's see how long this lasts...

Quick update: In the past year, I got engaged, got married, and found a new job in Japan. Now, I am tearing my place apart, getting ready to leave dear old Miyako in Iwate with my wife (not at this very moment since I am writing this blog post... I'm taking a break).

This week is the start of spring. In Japan, spring means:

1. Allergies
2. A prosperous time for the cardboard box industry and secondhand stores
3. Plane loads of foreigners are arriving in Japan to start their new lives as English teachers (ALTs)

I was a newbie teacher just 3 years ago, spending 4 days of "ALT boot camp" at a Toyoko Inn near Narita Airport. Since this year's newbies from my former company (name has 7 letters, starts with "I", ends with "c") already started training this week, it's too late to offer advice about that. However, I can give the new teachers some advice for after they settle into their new homes.

To the new teachers: If you had wanted Tokyo, Osaka, and the likes, you were likely persuaded to take an inaka (rural area) assignment. You are more needed there because the ALT before you did his/her time and decided to leave. You will be surrounded by either farms or ocean (or both), life stops after sundown, and nothing can be done without driving (in a tiny company-leased car).

Whether you are staying for 1 year, 2 years, or forever, here are some advice to help you turn inaka into an awesome and unique Japan experience.

1. Learn some Japanese...

You are living in the boonies, where the only exposure to foreign culture for the wonderful people in your new town is through TV, the Internet, random folks who have been abroad, and the previous ALT (and soon, you).  You may even be the only foreigner in town. Therefore, it is likely that you are the only person in town who can speak functional English. If you haven't studied any Japanese and you bought into your company's pitch that you don't need Japanese, you'll be in for some hard times.  

Basically, you will need Japanese for daily life. You need it to pay your bills. You need it to send fancy souvenirs to your folks at home. You need it to talk to the police if you need help. You need it to see the doctor if you catch the flu. You need it to order food at the local mom-and-pop restaurant because there's no English menu. I hope you get the picture...

As much as your company tells you not to do it, you need to use Japanese for work. Many of your teachers, especially in elementary schools, are older men and women who haven't had the luxury of any English language education. So, you need it to coordinate your lessons with them. Finally, you will need it to teach your classes. As I said my goodbyes after 3 years in Miyako, the biggest compliment that I received from everyone is my liberal use of Japanese in class, which made English much less scary for the children and cut down a lot of the confusion during lessons. Trust me, unless they are Japanese Teachers of English (JTEs), your teachers are just as scared about talking to you in English.

2. Be prepared for unwanted attention, or the lack thereof...

In the boonies, the kind folks in your new town probably believe that America, Australia, etc. only have white and (maybe) black people. If you are Japan's stereotypical image of a foreigner, you'll likely be the new hit in town, to both your students and the grown-ups. People will either swarm you for your attention or avoid you like a plague. The super-shy kids will cry when you try to speak to them. The brave ones will talk to you every time with any English they know (or that they will learn from you). If there's an international exchange group in your town, you'll be solicited with opportunities to make some cash on the side, teaching English conversation classes. On the streets, people may snap their necks to stare at you. On the days when you just want to enjoy a drink at the local izakaya and be left alone, random strangers will approach you to speak broken English or ask you about your country.

However, if you happen to be of Asian descent, like myself, the story is very different.  You will blend in perfectly, perhaps too well, even in times when you need to be treated like a foreigner. At the post office, for example, people will speak natural (fast) Japanese to you at first, and then stare at you like you're stupid when you can't understand them. You are less likely to receive offers to unique cultural experiences like your foreign-looking friends. When you are hanging out with your fellow foreign-looking ALTs, you are likely to be ignored by the random strangers (which includes other coming-from-out-of-town foreigners) who approach your group, since they will think you are Japanese. They may even question your "foreignness", since they may not understand that Asian people are everywhere in the world.

In the latter case, at least you won't be stared at all the time. And don't worry, your kids will warm up to you after your first day, and look forward to your visits. So, make a good first impression!

3. You'll always be a foreigner...

I remember the story of a fellow ALT who started the same time as I did. We were both assigned to the Iwate coastal areas, into different towns. He was die-hard trying to integrate, seriously trying to become Japanese (he was black). I think he wanted to be a J-Pop singer. He had the language skills, at a much higher level than I was at the time. Near the end of our first year, when we were both desperately trying to pass our Japanese driving test, he disappeared on the weekend after our first or second try. Rumor has it that he went into the "wrong" bar (hint: yakuza), was threatened, and took the first available flight back to America. Incredible but true story.

Although that was an extreme example, you will witness or experience some degree of this during your stay in inaka, especially if you have Japan's image of a foreigner. Most sober adults will find it difficult to approach you, even if they heard you speaking fluent Japanese to someone moments before. People will drop their jaws so low when they learn that you can skillfully use chopsticks or enjoy sashimi (raw fish), for the first 50 times. And wherever you go in town, whether it is a restaurant or a clinic, before you even open your mouth, the staff may scramble to find its "best" English speaker. No matter how hard you try, you'll always be a foreigner in Japanese people's eyes. I say the only exception would be if you marry a Japanese spouse, then your new in-laws won't see you as a foreigner.

Despite these odds, you should not take these experiences as "why bother learning Japanese?". You should still learn the language to build friendships whenever the opportunity arises, or to amaze your teachers at drinking parties. Instead, you should use your foreignness to your advantage. Many Japanese believe that their language and culture are impossible for foreigners to comprehend (even though it's the case for Japanese people too), so perhaps you can fake ignorance to get out of time-binding obligations. Or when you are pulled over in inaka for speeding for the first time, be polite to the police (this is key!) and suddenly forget how to speak any Japanese, but don't forget to imply that you're a teacher. There's a good chance that you can get out of an expensive ticket. However, I advise that you use your foreignness sparingly, and don't be a dick about it.

Don't look at being a foreigner in Japan as a disadvantage; use it as your strength. After all, you were hired not just because you're a native English speaker; it's because you are supposed to be a living example of foreign culture.

4. It's OK to build your own group of friends...     * Contributed by my friend Charles

Unless you are assigned to a remote island (Japan is a nation of islands, and all Japanese children are required by the government to receive education), you will have plenty of chances to hang out with your fellow ALTs and various foreigners. They may be the only people in your area who not only understand every little pop culture reference that you use, but also understand common struggles that foreigners face in Japan. In towns like Miyako, where there's an unusually high concentration of ALTs, you'll be tempted to hang out with them all the time. And in years with high turnover (like this year!), you would've met in Narita and gone through training in a large group, so you would have that first-year connection.

Like drinking red wine or eating delicious dark chocolate, you should exercise balance. Just as you don't want to hang out exclusively with Japanese people, you don't want to limit yourself to only English speaking friends. You've been afforded a great opportunity by being selected to come to Japan (believe me, ALT companies may be desperate these days, but they do reject applicants), for you to build a network of friendships across national boundaries and language barriers. So when your Japanese teachers or friends invite you to your first enkai (drinking party), dig deep into your wallet for a few thousand yen, bury that screaming "but I don't want to make a fool of myself..." fear deep down, and go! In Japan, no one cares once they start drinking. Regardless of your ethnicity, spending time with your new Japanese friends can introduce you to unique cultural experiences that you even didn't know you wanted before. For example, I got to pull a gigantic treasure ship at Miyako's Fall Festival, twice. And of course, I met my wife at a hanami event from the local international exchange group.

In short, you'll be glad that you made a diverse group of friends here. Just make sure that you don't neglect your fellow ALTs' birthday, Christmas, and farewell parties.

5. Stay focus on why you came to Japan...

Unless you spend a lot of time away from home, at some point, you will experience the "why the fuck did I come to a faraway place like Japan, and to inaka of all place?!" realization. It will probably be on a bad day, when all your lessons end in disaster. Even interacting with the clerk at Lawson to pay for your onigiri becomes a test of will. You may be tempted to go home, or just shutter yourself in the safety of your non-Japanese speaking apartment (unless you have lots of talking appliances). But, you are wasting the precious time and effort you took to come here.

In times like this, you need goals to stay focus.

Remember that you aren't in Japan for a short-time vacation. You had to leave a familiar life and family behind to come here. You had to apply and interview to come here. And with most ALT companies, you had to pay for your own plane ticket to come here, and an apartment, and everything else! All the while, your friends back home are probably super jealous that you came here. Most importantly, your time in Japan is limited, since you have to renew your work visa every year. Whether you came to Japan to fulfill a life-long dream or to serve your adventurous spirit, or something more noble, remember the reason. Write it on a big banner with a thick marker, and pin on across your new living room, if you have to.

Be concrete and realistic about your goals. You can do something like "I want to visit all 47 prefectures of Japan in X number of years" or "I want to do a lighthouse tour of the Iwate coast". Research the big festivals of the region or famous onsen (hot springs) to hit up, and they are always fun with a group of friends. Or you can do something more simple like group road trips to different towns, twice a month. Being concrete also help with one thing - budget. Nothing worse than seeing your dream crumble because you don't have the money to finance it. And you and I both know being an ALT isn't a road to riches.

Only you can shape your experience in Japan.

So that's my 3-year veteran advice. Take it or leave it. But if this is your first time in inaka, why would you not give my advice a try?

Please leave me comments. Tell me if I'm right or wrong.

My Review of the Movie "My darling is a foreigner" (ダーリンは外国人)

About a month ago...

As we (the Miyako collective of ALTs and friends) were saying goodbye to two of our own at the bus station, one of our Japanese female friends suddenly handed me a DVD. First off, at the age of Netflix and Hulu, I didn't know that disc media still exist. But more importantly, I was baffled not only by the appearance of a DVD (since I never asked her for it, nor did I know she had this particular movie), but also by her movie choice. The movie title was ダーリンは外国人 (daa-lin wa gai-koku-jin), or "My darling is a foreigner".

I think this movie is about a radioactive dinosaur-looking monster fighting giant bats,
or maybe giant robots fighting undersea monsters from another world? 

Right away, I was taken aback. Coincidentally, I had heard of this movie a few days earlier; it came up on Facebook as we were brainstorming topics for our weekly local radio show. But the title leaves nothing to the imagination - it's about some Japanese woman dating a foreigner. What's our friend (who's around the same age as my girlfriend and I, and is dating a white dude) trying to tell me?  Was she having some weird fantastical ideas about my current relationship?  Was she privy to some secret Japanese female wisdom?  Did my girlfriend put her up to this?  Suspecting this as some sort of crazy cross-cultural message, the hamster wheel in my brain was on overdrive, scurrying for a reason.  But, at that moment, I accepted the DVD and thanked her.

Back to the present...

On a Friday night with nothing better to do, I finally decided to watch the movie. Actually, I had attempted to watch the special features earlier this week, at the suggestion of my girlfriend. However, we gave up after she couldn't find the specific segments that she recommended* and I got bored.

* I found them on YouTube 2 days after.

Well, the movie stars Mao Inoue, of the Hana Yori Dango J-drama fame, who's one of my favorite Japanese actresses. So that sold me the movie. However, I had read the wiki article and reviews for the movie, which didn't put it in a stellar light. Now, expecting a movie full of lovey-dovey baloney, I would entertain my friend's request and see what kind of delusional nonsense the movie shows about romantic relationships with foreigners.

Comes with a short manga from Saori Oguni, plus a picture of a favorite actress of mine.

A little background about the movie...

"My darling is a foreigner" is based on a manga of the same name, which is based on the life of its creator Saori Oguri. The movie focused on Saori's (Mao Inoue) evolving romance with an American named Tony (Jonathan Sherr) and budding career as a manga artist, spliced with silly but heart-warming moments of cultural misunderstanding and nuances. The plot dealt with some perceived issues with Japanese-foreigner relationships, such as acceptance by each other's family and the infamous uchi-soto concept, and some general male-female understanding struggles.  Some common foreigner stereotypes, such as the obnoxious douchey American male, were used.  Language barrier wasn't an issue, since Tony was fluent in Japanese.  Still, the movie had a few foreigner gags.  For example, when Tony asked a Japanese person for directions, he insistently refused to talk to Tony, saying "Sorry, no English", even though Tony was speaking perfect Japanese.

My review... (Warning: spoiler alert)

So... I thought I was going to rip this movie a new asshole, but I was wrong.  After getting through the initial love-dovey scenes, the substance of the movie took over.  And it's relatable substance.  For example, when Saori brought Tony to meet her family for the first time (at her sister's wedding, even though he insisted on a more proper way), I recalled how I felt when my girlfriend brought me to meet her parents.  When Saori's father voiced his disapproval of their relationship, I thought (and am still thinking) about whether or not my girlfriend's family will actually accept me.  Sure, I've been to her house for Christmas, New Year's, her little cousin's birthday party, her sister's graduation party, met most of her family in Miyako, etc.  But, behind the scenes, what do they really think?  That... I worry.

Finally, the part where Saori decided to go to America with Tony to meet his family creepily mirrors my current experience, as my girlfriend and I are planning a trip back to meet my family in a few months.  I won't delve into the part where he proposed to her; it's still too early (at least that's what I think).  Through these plot mirrors, I can see myself in the position of Tony, except that I'm not Caucasian or fluent in Japanese.

So yea, I was wrong about the movie.  I suppose since it's based on real experiences, it would be easily relatable.  One of the complaints about the movie was that it stayed too faithful to the manga creator's experiences, thus limiting its creativity. But I think for the story to be believable and relevant, it can't afford to be too creative (then it would just be fiction); most cross-cultural couple's encounters aren't fantastical Cinderella stories. It definitely won me over, but not enough for me to watch it again.

Conclusion...

"My darling is a foreigner" turned out to be a good movie. It's a cute, feel-good story with real struggles, plus I got to see Mao Inoue. I'll be sure to thank my friend whenever I return the DVD to her.

Some Female Wisdom

Spring break is almost over... nooooo!  Time to reflect and complete these half-done blogs before I'm busy with work again.



One of the places which we visited during the New Year's holiday

Back in New Year's holiday, I was on vacation with my gf.  Looking back, I realized that I learned a few things on how to travel.  Now, I've been known to do lots of travelling: been to many places, seen/done/eaten many things, and landed in many situations, from amusing to downright difficult.  Above all, I've built a reputation as a frequent traveler.  So I was a bit surprised by the new and useful tips from her.

 

Well, I guess we always have room for improvement.  The teacher became the student.  Wax on... wax off...

 

For our 5-day trip, I brought my 5.11 Tactical Rush 72 backpack.  It's full of compartments and pockets, and weighs a bit by itself.  It was half filled for the trip.  When my gf arrived to pick me up, she was shocked by how big my bag was.  She even tried it on, but quickly dropped it.  I was just as surprised, by how little she brought.  She was basically using a school backpack plus her usual messenger bag.

  

* In these photos, my 5.11 backpack is empty, while my gf's purple backpack is full.


 

What are her secrets?

 

 

1. Compression bags

 

These bags can be bought at 100-yen stores.  They come in various sizes and in packs of whatever: the smaller the size, the more you get.  Unlike the ones that I remember from As-Seen-on-TV, you don't need a vacuum to suck out the air.

 

Then, I remember having a stash of compression bags, tucked away in my closet... 



One of my bags has a vacuum hole.  That sneaky bastard...

Normally, I just roll up my clothes.  However, I gave the bags a try on a recent trip to the Kanamara Festival in Kawasaki.

The verdict: It was a 2-day trip, so I only brought an extra set of clothes and a bath towel.  The space saving wasn't significant, but it helped.  An added benefit was organization: the compression bag separated my clothes from everything else in my backpack.  I'll remember this handy tip from now on.

 

2. Doing laundry every night

 

One of the things which my gf asked, when we were booking hotels, was whether or not they have washing machines (I didn't give it much thought at the time, but it made sense in hindsight).  Every night, when I was passed out on the bed, she was doing laundry.  For our hotel in Osaka without washing machines, she did laundry in the bathroom sink, with a small pack of detergent she carried.  She was even nice enough to wash mine, every night.

In the winter, hotels usually have heat on pretty high, which makes the rooms dry; our clothes easily dried overnight.  Because of this, most of my clothes were left unused, and became dead weight.

* Tip #2 may not work out too well if we were staying in hostels or travelling outside Japan.


This is me when it comes to laundry during a trip.

 

That's it!  They seem like no-brainers, but after years of travel (mostly alone), I was stuck in certain ways, I've forgotten things, blah blah blah.  Sometimes, a bit of female wisdom is what an old stubborn fool needs.

 

5 Things I've Gotten Used to in Japan

Today marks 2 years since I set foot in Japan, not as a tourist or student, but a member of the workforce. Looking back, I realize that many things which I once thought was strange or impossible had become everyday life. I've mostly adapted to Japan's way of things.

The topic of getting used to things in Japan is nothing new; you can probably find dozens like it on the blogosphere. However, I'd like to believe that each person's experiences abroad are unique, including mine. 

From the list of things I've gotten used to in Japan, here are my top 5:

1. More veggies
2. Less alcohol
3. Suit everyday
4. Trash sorting
5. Black coffee

1. Eating more veggies (and a bigger variety)

I had never been a big fan of vegetables. Maybe I had some bad experiences with them when I was little. Until adulthood, the only veggies that I could tolerate were the frozen mixed variety and whatever were mixed into a Panda Express dinner. OK, I like edamame, but that's hardly an improvement.

Then came school lunches in Japan. A hefty portion of every school lunch is... veggies! Main dish, side dish, soup... all have veggies - carrots, radishes, eggplants, tomatoes, etc. Children here learn about veggies at a young age, and even have field trips to plant and harvest them. My students often ask me what some random veggies  are called in English, and I would struggle for answers because I had never seen or heard of them before. My work isn't safe from the veggie loving curriculum either; every year, few of my English lessons focus on veggies. Because I live near farm country, some schools occasionally hand me free veggies.


Typical school lunch in Japan - veggies in everything, plus rice and milk; although
it's my first time seeing an egg roll here (courtesy of perpetualexplorer.com)

In other words, veggies in Japan are almost unavoidable, but I have come to like them.
 

Yep... I eat all these veggies now.

*Same thing happened with fish, except I still can't figure out what fish is what.

2. Drinking much less

In Japan, it's (almost) zero tolerance for drinking and driving. Japanese law states BAC under 0.03 is acceptable, but the police has a lot of discretionary power on this issue, and the judge will almost always side with the police. Nowadays, DUI can land you up to 3 years in jail or $4,400 (not ¥) in fines. Best to ditch your car keys if you plan on drinking.

Now, this isn't a concern if you live in a big city, where public transportation supports hefty drinking habits. However, it's a bit different in Miyako. I live about a 40-min walk from city center, where most of the bars and pubs are. Although other ALTs and local friends don't mind being DD, I don't want to play that card too often.


Too much fun on a night out?  In a big city, you can count on public transportation.
Elsewhere, it may be a long walk home or an expensive taxi.  (courtesy of tofugu.com)

Back in America, I would grab a beer after work. But now, if I drink, I'm confined to my apartment for the night. If I need to pick up supplies for a lesson next day, as I often did because I'm a procrastinator, then I'm screwed.

Nowadays, I don't drink often, because it's a hassle.  


3. Wearing a suit to work, every work day

Before Japan, the only times I wore a suit were during job interviews and my friends' weddings.  At work, I wore jeans and a polo shirt.  I owned only one suit, and kept it in pristine condition for 6 years.  Suddenly, I'm wearing it for work every day.

This was probably one of the most difficult adjustments for me, not just because I had never worn a suit to work before.  I teach children, and I'm supposed to be fun and active in the classroom.  A suit is sort of counter-intuitive for such a job, but I dealt with my misgivings over time.

Within 2 years, I had to get another suit.  Luckily (and surprisingly), they are one of the things which aren't expensive in Japan.  Guess I should thank all those drunken salarymen for feeding the suit economy and keeping prices down.

  

 You worked hard for the past 2 years, my 3-button buddy (Left). Now say hello to your new 2-button brother (Right).



* To be clear, even though this is Japan, I don't work on weekends. Also, unlike many Japanese salarymen, I change out of my suit as soon as I'm off work.

4.  Sorting out trash

One of the daily life things that confuse every new arrival to Japan (that I know of) is the sorting of trash. When I first moved in, I was given a big colorful poster about trash sorting and the collection schedule for the year. The pictures on the poster, which show different types of trash, were helpful, but each type comes with various rules and exceptions, in Japanese. It was overwhelming to look at and time-consuming to translate.

  

 Paper, plastics, bottles, cardboard, and any category imaginable - you can find them in Japan.

Three usual problems associated with trash sorting are:

1. Which day to throw out what
2. What belongs to which category of trash
3. How trash is disposed of

Which day to throw out what... One day is burnables, another is plastic only, etc. Not everything is collected weekly. The trash schedule depends on neighborhoods within a city. If you miss a day, then you have to wait until next time or go to the dump yourself.

What belongs to which category...  On many products, the label has symbols which tell you what part of the product belongs to which group. However, many things are ambiguous. For example, not all papers are considered recyclable. Some are only burnable, newspapers are bounded and thrown out separately, etc.

How trash is disposed of...  In Miyako, newspapers are separate from other papers and bounded with paper rope. Not nylon, not wire, but paper rope!  Also, you have to buy city-specific, color-coded trash bags; it's not like in America where you can just reuse Wal-Mart bags.

There were a few times when I took recyclables to the dump, only to be told that they are burnables! The time to sort the crap, the money to buy the bags, literally thrown away (into a furnace). What f***in' geniuses thought of this system? For all I know, a giant boat takes the bottles and recyclables and dumps them into the ocean.

After 2 years, I may not be used to the rules, but I'm used to the hassle.


5.  Black coffee, please!  No cream and sugar.

Coffee is the life blood of a working professional. I used to down cups of it a day in school and in my previous job. Both involved hours of mentally exhausting computer work, so I needed the caffeine. But it always came with cream and sugar.

If you think Japan changed that, you're only partly correct. At most of my schools, I would be served either green tea or coffee with cream and sugar. So it wasn't my schools that changed my cream-and-sugar habit; it was my girlfriend (in Japan).

Through some female wisdom, I became convinced that black coffee is healthier. It made sense: cream and sugar add (unnecessary) calories, and if I drink that style of coffee daily by the liter, the extra calories add up. Since my girlfriend converted me, I also noticed that most Japanese teachers drink their coffee black only.


Mismatched couple's coffee mugs

Because other teachers at my schools mostly drink black coffee, I had found single-serving creamers which went unused for so long that they spoiled, which might explain some of my mysterious stomach ailments at work. Since that discovery, no more cream in my coffee.


Conclusion:

There you have it - the 5 most notable things I've gotten used to in Japan. No life-changing, soul-shattering revelations; just mundane stuff that are different from my past. The keyword is "my" - my journey to Japan, my new life, my unique experiences. Maybe on the next living-in-Japan anniversary, I'll have something better to write about.