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Sanma Wednesday September 28
why Todd will laugh at this picture
I spent a fair amount of money getting set up when I first came to Japan; recently, I've been cooking everyday in an effort to recoup those initial expenses.
When I shop for groceries, I buy what's cheap: eggs, bread, bean sprouts, tofu. These are things that I live on. Sometime, I may just pass along the recipe for Mark's Moyashi Soup. The recipe is currently still in beta, but I'll give you a hint; it contains three of the four aforementioned items.
Certain fish are also very cheap. I eat fish, but have been intimidated by the fish section of the supermarket. There they are, whole fish. I'm no sushi chef, and I'm not even Japanese: I grew up in the "Midwest Ocean". We don't eat fish because we can't trust where they came from, and even when we do eat them, it's definitely not fish that we purchased, raw, complete with head and tail.
Sanma are currently in season. They are small fish that come from the northern part of Japan (Hokkaido, I believe?), and they are routinely 70 yen each. How could I afford not to eat them? Last week at the wine and cheese party, Ken told me he had cooked sanma on the broiler and it went fine.
So, I walked into the supermarket today to find a pack of two for 120 yen (just over a dollar). At that price, I thought there had to be a catch. Maybe these fish don't have that much meat? Maybe they're really hard to prepare? Maybe for a dollar, I should go for it? They had some that were already beheaded and gutted for 170; I considered my options in front of the display case. "All right, I'll bite," I thought. "I'm not lazy, and I'm in for the whole experience." I chose the fish complete with heads and headed home.
I put one down on the cutting board. It just stared at me, frozen with terror. I offered my best French Revolution accent, asked the fish for its last words, and pressed down on the knife. The bones connecting the head and body were rather sturdy, and did not cut clean. As I did this, the fish's mouth opened under the pressure, screaming for mercy, begging to die peacefully and quickly.
I couldn't help but feel a little weird; despite the fact that I was 'killing' something that was already dead. We buy steak, chicken, and pork. We don't have to slaughter the carcass. We both know where the meat came from, but we don't want to think about it. Here, I had no choice. This whole fish, in its present state, was captured, transferred, and killed for my benefit, and now I had to handle its carcass. The blood was on my hands, literally.
I gutted it by incising straight down the bottom of the fish from the throat to the tail; apparently, you don't have to do that, but once I saw the raw version of what comes out when you do that, I will probably not eat any ungutted fishes any time soon. I'll spare those details. I have a picture of the aftermath of the scene of the crime, but I thought better of posting it just now.
Then, I just sprinkled some salt on both sides of the fish, slapped it on the broiler, and grilled it for about ten minutes. And that was that. When I separated it, the bones came off easily, and I ate it with rice and tsumen sauce (think soy). It was delicious, and I only had to make one of them. Cheap, tasty, and healthy. I'm hooked.
Right before I began eating, though, I thought about the Japanese custom of saying itadakimasu before a meal. It means "to humbly receive", implying that the food about to be consumed has been received, humbly, from the world/life/God/whatever. It was so apparently clear in these circumstances that something else had died for my benefit; I humbly received it. It's convenient to be at the top of the food chain, but it's also good to be thankful for that.
In other news, it's been a long time since I've embedded pictures inside my posts. It might be time to start doing that again. What do you think? On one hand, they there are, right here, but on the other hand, they're not as organized as they are in the albums.
Naomi Tuesday September 27
Naomi's coming this week for some family-related affairs, so I'm excited; I'll be headed up to Nagano this weekend to see her. Apparently, she may come back to Yokohama with me. Funny, in a way. She's the one who's mom is Japanese, and I'll be the one communicating for the both of us.
Anyone else want to come to Japan? American is offering $385 round trip from Chicago to Nagoya between October 5th and October 12th.
The census Thursday September 22
October 1st is the Japan's National Census. As with the United States census, the powers that be make a bit of a big deal about counting everyone. In the flyer posted up, there are three people pictured side-by-side: a middle-aged white man, a younger Japanese woman, and an elderly Japanese man. In such an uchi-soto (inside-outside group) culture, it's encouraging to see the inclusion of a foreigner.
Since I'm here, I am to be counted. Pardon the pun, but somehow that makes me feel like I count.
While I've been able to acquire an apartment, a cell phone, a bicycle, appliances, furniture, shop for groceries, ask for directions, obtain a valid identification card, and generally do what is necessary to live life like everyone else, it is obvious everywhere I go that I come from the outside.
I did not feel that so much when I was in Kanazawa; there were always other American students around to engage in conversation, and there was a club of Japanese students who regularly hung out with us and organized activities. Now, I live alone, eat alone, commute alone.
There are exceptions to this: when I go out with my classmates, when I spend time with Michael and his family, when I hang out with Riho. However, outside of these occasions, I have no social or cultural group to associate with. As an American, individuality has always been important; I have never wanted to be pigeonholed into a labeled group with a bunch of other people. Yet, I feel the need to exist somewhere in a social network.
In Champaign, I have a social network. My friends have different interests and backgrounds, but each person and I agree on certain values and activities that suit us to spending time together. What I must do is seek to surpass the boundaries of language and race to find individuals with common interests. This is what will be the beginnings of my belonging to a group, and this is how I will make friends.
This begs the question: do I want to join a group for the sake of having one? What motivates me is the "sense of belonging" -- I suppose there's a reason that phrase is an idiom; it's not necessarily something grounded in actual circumstances, but rather a sense within oneself.
I have not, of course, looked beyond making friends with my classmates. Some of them seem to be great people -- but I'm just going to let it all happen naturally. Also, some of them are older, some of them are married, and some of them have lived in Japan for some time: not necessarily everyone is in my shoes, or is looking to meet new people.
So anyway, it's goofy, but the Japanese government's eagerness to accept and register my presence as a member of some sort of group (yes, admittedly, a broad one) gives me just a little bit of a sense of belonging.
[Ed. note: After writing this post, I finished up most of my homework and headed down the street to "The Bridges of Madison Country". Such being the name of a local izakaya that I've been meaning to hit up, if for no reason other than the name. When I walked in, it was clear to me that it is a "local" place where people know your name -- and no one knew my name. Rather than duck and run, though, I braved that everyone was staring and sat down and ordered a drink. By the time I left, everyone knew my name. No English was spoken. People know my deal. People know I exist; and thus, I already feel more at home than I did four hours ago when I wrote the above post.]
My apartment Tuesday September 20
Listening: Cake - Motorcade of Generosity (1999 nostalgia)
Reading: An Introduction to Advanced Spoken Japanese
The big move is over. Many of the details are ugly, involve sweat, hills, bicycles, and being exhausted. Strangely, I had gotten used to living with Riho for a few weeks, and I had been taking a few things for granted without even realizing it. I slept on the floor last night using two cushions as a pillow, which was an urgent reminder to get a futon. I fortunately realized that I lacked toliet paper before requiring it. There is still no hand soap, but we now are rocking the dish detergent and laundry detergent.
Michael had an extra futon, so I went up there today and picked it up. I plan on buying my own eventually, but for now, I will not be sleeping on hardwood.
Yesterday, a moving truck showed up with my appliances; I was pleasantly surprised that they are all new. I am renting my appliances from the landlord, and I am used to Champaign-Urbana landlords' standards. I have a gas stove, and my fridge is bigger than Riho's. Brand new washer. I hadn't done laundry in three weeks, so I broke it in well tonight.
The rice cooker became a priority after the futon, so I pedaled up to Don Quixote in Naka-ku, next to the harbor. Don Quixote, besides being the imaginary Spanish fiction character, is also one of Japan's cheaper stores to find neat stuff. Michael referenced it as "Spencer's Gifts meets Wal-mart"; I consider that analysis to be accurate. I will probably shop at this store indefinitely, seeing that Donki, their mascot, is a cute penguin that greatly resembles the Linux penguin.
On the way there, I saw a bunch of chairs and dressers sitting on the sidewalk, all with pricetags on them. Cheap pricetags. I dismounted, and on further investigation, there was an entire kitchen table for $65. When I asked how much the chairs cost, I was told that they were included.
I then mentioned that despite this bargain of the century, I could not carry four chairs and a kitchen table home on my bicycle. The store owner informed me that they have a free delivery service. So, I bought the set, and arranged a time to return after I got the rice cooker (that is what I set out to do). They tried to sell me that, too, but a new rice cooker only costed $15 more, and it's probably a good idea to get the warranty. Furniture doesn't really need a warranty.
When I came back to the store a few hours later, they had already brought a van around. At first, I thought this was solely for my benefit, but then I noticed that they were unloading gear -- TVs, stereos, and other household equipment. This shop is obviously in the business of getting rid of people's old stuff and recycling it. My kind of store. My table then went in the van, along with my bicycle, my person, and my new rice cooker.
The only issue is getting rid of the table when I move out. My plan is to keep it in good condition, go back to that same store, show them my receipt, and ask if they want to buy it back for $20. That's what they do, right?
The driver addressed me consistently as anata (this means 'you', but there are only two occasions that you say it, and this was neither). This was strange, particularly because I was a customer. I asked him if he was born in Yokohama, and he mentioned that no, he was born in Vietnam, and he had been living in Yokohama for 7 years. Aha. He also volunteered that his brothers live in Australia and America, and that he also has family here in Japan. We then shared a moment of discussing how being far from your family is tough.
I then asked him the important question: where can I go to get Vietnamese food?
Sadly, there aren't any restaurants in Yokohama, he said, and I'd have to go somewhere else (I don't remember the name of the place; it wasn't a well-known place, though). As we continued to talk, I realized that one of my favorite things was occurring. I have studied Japanese, and I am accustomed to Japanese culture more than the average American.
However, I don't know anything about Vietnam, and unless I asked a Vietnamese person in America in English, I wouldn't. Today, Japanese enabled me, even if only for the fifteen minutes while in the truck, to connect with someone who I would have never been able to speak with otherwise. Our conversation was normal, but I felt that "yay, the world doesn't seem like so much of a mystery now" feeling. I suppose if I learn Spanish, Mandarin, Swahili, Arabic, German and/or French, and Hindi, I'll be able to go just about anywhere. Hrmmm.
I called it a 'kitchen table', and it is, but since I do not have a kitchen, it is my desk, my kitchen table, my bookshelf (Chance and Otto figurines are the bookends), and it really makes the room look like someone lives here.
Still on the home furnishings list: a trash can (using plastic grocery bags is getting tiring), curtains (draping shirts over the curtain rail is tacky), shampoo, conditioner, body soap, hand soap, a rug to tie the room together (you know I'm not joking), a pot for the stove (you can't make curry in a fry pan!), and a plant. There will be a plant, and I will not kill it this time. I promise. It's going to be big, too. None of this desktop plant stuff. I want something like three feet tall, like the cornplant that I almost killed. Tim's taking care of it for me now, I think.
In other news, I just registered to run in the 25th Annual Yokohama Marathon. It's not a real marathon; they have three portions: a 5km, a 10km, and a half-marathon (about 21km). I will be running the 10km in November.
Oh, and one more thing. Dachshunds. You know I love them. They are very, very popular here; possibly, the most popular breed. In the States, every time I see a dachshund I want to yell out "Otttoooooo" in that high-pitched voice or something like that. Yet, I can honestly say that after seeing literally more than twenty dachshunds in the past three weeks is that all dachshunds are not created equal.
In fact, Chance, Otto, Daisy, and Oscar are particularly adorable dachshunds. I know that you will contend that I am biased, but I am downright serious. I don't know what their breeding practices are here, but I can tell for sure that some of them -- while still cute -- have breed defects that well, make them not as cute. I'm not being a breed snob; I'm serious. Possibly, they're not purebreds. Who knows. To be fair, I have seen a few that, if I were in the States, I would have stopped the person walking them to pet their dog. I don't think people do that here.
Man, I want a dog. Chance, do you want to go to school?
I wouldn't call it 'homesickness', but Thursday September 15
I knew for certain before I left that there would be periods where I'd miss certain things about home. Now is one of those times. I wouldn't call it 'homesickness', but I'm sure the symptoms are the same. I explained it to Michael this way last weekend: in Champaign, I "knew" everything.
You want good Thai food? Oh, man, I know like three places. Never buy produce at Schnucks unless you have to, and if you have to, make sure to go early in the week before all the eggplants have overripened. Need a bike fixed? Todd used to live above this crazy dude who fixes bikes cheap, but the key is to take a pretty girl with you so he does it on the spot instead of making you wait. The Green bus' last trip to downtown is at 11:23 from Coler and Green Streets. I'm sure you know what I mean. These are the bits, coupled with all of the people I regularly saw and met along the way, that make 'home', well, home. Everyone knows that Crane Alley has half-priced pool on Wednesday, right?
Now, even if I moved within the continental United States, I'd have to start over again. However, the rate at which I could acquire such information would be significantly faster than I can here, and using the English language would enable me to make new friends faster.
Facing the language barrier setback, I have had difficulty as of yet making Japanese friends, and I'm still getting used to the way everything is done here. I shouldn't say 'language barrier'. It's not a concrete wall, but a new friend would have to have some patience with me. They'd have to want to make the friendship work. Oh, that makes sense now -- I guess that's why everyone jokes that I should just get a girlfriend.
Right, let me run down to the convenience store and pick one out. Wait, I like that one, no, no wait -- how much extra do I have to pay for this relationship to actually be an emotionally worthwhile endeavor? Oh. Right. Well, thanks anyway.
I suppose that really only leaves one course of action, which is to remove the language setback entirely. This is a difficult goal, but it's what I'm here to do. I guess it's back to studying. In the meantime, though, I did find a great ramen shop, but it's not that cheap.
I move in this weekend. Pictures to come on Monday or Tuesday.
Weekend Update Sunday September 11
Friday night I went out with the American students. I have been shying away from making friends with any of them; I don't want this to end up like Kanazawa where all the English speakers form a tight-knit group and never hang out with anyone new.
I also need to be realistic: these people will introduce me to new people and experiences; moreover, they offer a basic support structure. These people are struggling with many of the same adjustments that I am, and thus we naturally form a group whether we want to or not.
Friday afternoon was the Official Welcome Party™, and there was sushi, fruit, Japanese pastries, sandwiches, juice, and beer. This is one of those strange adjustments: apparently, it's not strange at all for the teachers and administrative support staff to drink beer right along with the students. I found that odd. Everyone had had quite enough to eat, but the party "ended" at 6:15pm, and no one wanted to go home that early.
Rather, we went to an izakaya, or a late-night food-and-drink place, and we proceeded to chat and drink. This is a pretty common occurrence here, and the restuarant had multiple rooms to support the twelve of us that went out. We had to leave that place by 8pm, though, because another group had a reservation.
So, what's left to do but karaoke? I do a rousing version of "Under the Bridge", if I do say so. Karaoke always comes across to me as something kind of lame, but in Japan, it just works. I had a blast; I sang untl my vocal cords were hoarse. Everyone enjoyed themselves immensely.
I am sure that when I go into class tomorrow morning, some of us will be smiling just thinking about Friday, and that itself is worth something. I feel friendships forming.
Who was I to be a snob about who I will befriend? Why was I biasing against English speakers simply because of their language? Does that really have anything to do with what friendship is about? Not in the slightest.
I make, and will continue to make, many mistakes here that I would not in the States. I'll learn from them, and then everything will be fine. And even now, everything is fine. I am continually improving at my ability to accept and recognize reality. It is a challenge, however, to simultaneously evaluate reality and my ideals, compare and contrast their relevancy, and then adjust them accordingly. This is what we have to do, though.
A long day of updates Thursday September 8
I called the landlord today about my apartment. Apparently, the earliest I can pick up my key is a week from today, so I'll be staying at Riho's and Mike's for the next week.
I mentioned in brief that Mike and I had spent some time together last weekend. He called today wanting to know my weekend schedule, and he had already thrown around the idea of me staying there. I might do that for a night or two just to give Riho a night off; I've been sleeping in her living room for over a week now, and even though I have my own key, and we don't see each other so much except at night, it's still just not fair to her.
I had today off; usually, I will have class on Thursdays, but due to a scheduling idiosyncrasy of the first week, I had nothing. Without an apartment to move into and furnish, there's really nothing to do.
So, what else to do but fix all those things I've been meaning to fix on this website.
- Comments are no longer pop-ups, they are now included at the bottom of each entry.
- When you post a comment, it doesn't take you to that ugly white page anymore.
- I added a security code to the comments box. If you enter the code correctly, which most anyone with halfway decent eyesight can (I know, it's an accessibility issue), your comment will be posted immediately. This is to prevent comment spam, whose robots are getting increasingly more clever.
- The scheme toolbox on the right side is 'sticky', your choice will persist even to your next visit.
- I have removed all of the table formatting from the picture script, except where appropriate.
- I updated the header graphic, and I plan on doing so continually as I take new pictures.
- I finished making the site XHTML 1.0 Transitional. It now verifies properly.
I've had a lot of requests for pictures; since the weather should be nice tomorrow, I will take a bunch of my school.
Kumo-chan Monday September 5
Japan may be small, but there's one thing that's consistently bigger here: insects.
A few nights ago, Riho (the girl I'm currently staying with until I get my apartment set up) was sitting on the couch smoking, and she cocked her head up to exhale -- and then promptly walked across the room and sat down on the bed. All she said was, "ceiling". I didn't get it at first, because in context, I didn't realize that was the word she was saying. Then she pointed.
Look at this image. (This isn't for the sqeamish, that's why I didn't include it directly)
A big spider. About 4-5" in diameter. We're talking a legspan a little larger than a tarantula. On the ceiling in the room where I sleep.
Riho becomes useless just laying on her bed in the other room saying that it's so gross and that as the guy, I need to take care of it. Personally, I hate spiders. I wouldn't have minded leaving it if I hadn't been staying in the same room. I considered just climbing into Riho's bed and just hoping it'd be gone in the morning, but I reconsidered my ability to explain clearly what I do and do not want from her. Plus, if the spider was gone in the morning, how could I know it was truly gone?
I still couldn't figure out how the damn thing got in in the first place. All the windows are screened, and the door was shut.
Eventually, I enclosed it on the ceiling with a small trash can, and then slid a piece of cardboard in between the ceiling and the top of the trash can. Contained, I took it outside. There was no stepping on or killing this spider...
The cicadas -- that Japan is famous for -- are even bigger than our seven-year ones. For someone who hates these kinds of insects, it's a bit of a rude awakening.
First day of school Sunday September 4
Today's the first day of school. This morning we had orientation, and now this afternoon, I will have an oral interview. Theoretically, I should be nervous about that; however, because everyone knows that the sole purpose of me being here is to learn Japanese, it is to be expected that not everything will go flawlessly.
Rather, the whole point is for them to evaluate my weak points, and then slowly help me work on them. So far so good.
To evaluate my writing, though, they simply asked us all to write a 400-1000 character (2-3 page) piece for Wednesday. Oi! First day of school and there is already homework.
The working man lifestyle wasn't so bad... Foellinger, I miss you. Almost as much as I miss Chance, and my family and friends. Oh, let's face it. Home isn't that bad at all.
Neither is here; it's just simply different. It's not like I "escaped" from Urbana -- I came here to do something I couldn't do there. As Todd will tell you, though, it's quite a cool place to live. Homesickness isn't necessarily the desire to return home, but rather a desire to feel the way you feel when you're at home.
Last night was a good start in the other direction: Michael and I rode bikes around Roppongi. I'm not so far from home, now am I?
And the process continues Saturday September 3
Well, getting an apartment as a foreigner isn't as easy as I thought it would be. Certainly, I have somewhere to stay until I find a place, but it's never good to wear out your welcome anywhere. After 9 days, I might just start to do that here.
In my last post I mentioned the guarantor requirement. One of the teachers at the school I will be attending will act as my guarantor, so I took the documents today to the real estate office. Then, they told me that they themselves would have to speak with the guarantor, and that that would have to wait until Monday (given that it is the weekend).
Then, they'll have to call the actual landlord of the property, which will probably happen Monday afternoon or Tuesday, so we're looking at Wednesday as about the earliest I can be in my new apartment.
However, on the excitement of submitting the completed application with my guarantor's information, I went straight to Tokyu Hands and started to outfit my new apartment before I even am living there.
Buying things -- like placemats and chopsticks -- brings up an interesting feeling I've been having about my "moving around" thing. I'll get to that lateron, but as for now, I'm going to rest: there's a big night tonight.
I'm going up to Shinagawa to see Asako and her sister; I haven't seen her for just about three years now.
