My apartment
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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?
