Nichijou Seikatsu: Everyday Life

    My daily Japanese life is sort of analogous to Rebecca Black’s, as expressed in “Friday.”

    Here, let me show you. It works perfectly if I modify a couple lyrics: “Seven a.m., waking up in the morning, gotta be fresh, gotta go [down the hall], gotta have my bowl, gotta have [miso soup] ...... Gotta get down to the bus stop. Gotta catch my bus, I [get some stares]. [Standing] in the front seat, [studying] in the back seat, gotta make my mind up, which seat can I take?”

That about sums up my mornings. But you have to factor in the oddly long, fluffy and deep (by dimension) slice of Japanese white bread toast. Tastes all right but doesn’t fill you up. I don’t think they’ve really heard of whole grain yet here. On the toast goes some jam and maybe some of the Nutella I brought—one of my gifts from home, but they end up using it a lot less than me…

My apartment building

Bridge over the little Arisu River

Houses on my side of the Arisu

I say “itte kimasu!” (stock phrase for “I’m going and returning”) and am met with the reply of “itte rasshai!” (another stock phrase for “go and come back”) from either my host dad or mom. I cross the little bridge over the Arisukawa (Arisu River, though really a creek), usually passing by some groups of elementary or middle schoolers, and walk through the winding little path among the modest-sized, squished-together houses and apartments. The first few days it made me think of that opening song in Beauty and the Beast: “Little town, full of little people/Every day like the one before/Little town, full of little people/Waking up to saaayy….Ohayou!” Well in the song it was bonjour, but whatever.

I get to the bus stop, wait a bit for the #3, hop on through the middle doors, find an empty seat, and listen to my iPod while alternately studying for the daily kanji quiz and staring out the window. Once in a while someone even deigns to sit next to me!

Half an hour later, I walk to the front, flash my pass to the driver, and get off. Then it’s down into the Shijo Karasuma station, where I ride three stops north to Imadegawa. I come out at the corner and walk half a block to Doshisha University’s west gate. The campus really seems quite tiny for 25,000 students, but it makes sense when you consider the bigger Kyotanabe campus just south of the city. I head into the Fusokan, the building for all things international, where all of KCJS’s classes are held. The inside is phenomenally boring, but oh well. Then it’s Japanese class from 9:10 to noon, with an hour break either in the middle or the end. In the D class—which is one below E, the highest—we have Fukai-sensei, who’s actually pretty cool. I mean, she has hidden tattoos, she does funny accents, she has a poster of a metal band in her office (cubicle), and she showed us this video the day we learned Kansai dialect: http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x2xfdb_ulfuls-osaka-strut_music (Osaka STRUT! I love it, I love it.)

The train station exit closest to school. Yup, it's Japan alright

Then we eat in the decently yummy shokudou (cafeteria) with extremely reasonable prices, especially compared to Tufts and its meal plan… (grumble grumble) And if there’s time to kill between classes some of us usually hang out in the International Student Lounge, a smaller room off the main lounge in this cool underground hallway connected to the shokudou. Then English-language content class—we get to speak English inside the classroom! Yippee!—and back home, or hanging out with friends. I have Monday and Thursday afternoons off, so that’s a relief. Wednesday is going to suck though, since I have a class until 6:15, and it’s looking like I’ll join the Kyodai Gasshoudan (Kyoto U chorus) which practices Wed. and Fri., so that means heading to their campus right after class. Well, as long as it’s just that day…

Doshisha's flags at the East Gate

Doshisha University. There's a lot of brown

I get back, unlock the door, and slip off my shoes in the little entryway as I call “Tadaima!” (I’m back!), which is often met with no response, since my host parents usually aren't around till a bit later, if at all. Seriously, I’ve had more than three nights by myself here because they’re that busy. I’m even alone this evening—my host dad is playing another golden oldies/country show at “Nashville.” But even if they’re going to be out for the evening, they always have some sort of yummy dinner all ready for me to eat. Dishes I’ve had include yakisoba, yaki-udon (both with octopus!), Italian pasta, nabe hotpot with fishcakes and boiled eggs and fried tofu and such, tuna tartare, and more. Tonight it was all three of us, finally, and we had fried iwashi fish, fried egg, sautéed bean sprouts, konnyaku (weird jiggly-type plant substance) soup, rice and even kimchee from the local Korean food place. Always so much variety!

Sunset from my window/balcony. Ignore the parking lot and you can see the mountains of western Kyoto

Some of us hung out at the Kamo River last Friday after a mini welcome party

 Weekends provide a bit more wiggle room…last Saturday some of us went shopping at/in/around Kyoto Station, which is pretty much endless. We had yummy crepes and I got a denshi jisho, or an electronic dictionary, which is super helpful for English-Japanese and vice versa. Since karaoke is cheaper before the evening, two of us KCJSers and two Japanese girls we know went on Sunday late afternoon. Good times. I actually went karaoke-ing again last night (Friday) with some friends even though it was only for an hour and kind of far. Singing Disney songs and I Want It That Way together is always worth it.

Crepes at Kyoto Eki.... nommm

How can I possibly caption this?

Today a group of us went to Kiyomizu-dera (Pure Water Temple). It was actually my third time, since I came in high school, so it was pretty nostalgic for me, walking up the narrow little street lined with shops and standing on the temple’s veranda overlooking Kyoto. It started gushing rain partway through, but we dealt with it. I even brought home a bottle of holy water I filled from one of the three springs. Today was also the last day that a dragon called Seiryu gets paraded around the temple grounds by the monks…I thought we missed it, but then they came by and I got a short video! Woohoo.

So, that’s my life so far. Not all that much variation. Except for that whole part where I was trying to get an effing cell phone for more than a week...I hate you SoftBank. I would have written about that here, but it's too tiresome and would make the pH level of this post a little too acidic.

Anyway, word to the wise: Japanese do not work well with spontaneity. I learned that once and for all when I tried to buy some train tickets a few days ago for me and a couple friends to go to Tokyo this three-day weekend, but any remotely good times were sold out. Fail. So anything you’re going to do: plan in advance. That’s all I got to say. Check you later.

To Eat Paella With Chopsticks

            As the title indicates, I learned that you can eat just about anything with chopticks this past weekend. Sunday night, the day after I moved into my homestay, my parents threw a little kangeikai (welcome party) for me. They made a variety of international-ish foods, including paella and sliced veggies you dip into heated Italian-ish oil. Keita’s boss from his design studio came, although it’s not very large, but it was still a little bit intimidating since I had to put up a good front (tatemae). Like many, he seemed a little confused by my vegetarianism…I guess it’s not as common outside of America? Later, friends of the Ohashis also came—Jackie and Ai, another couple with an age gap over ten years…alright, I ain’t judging. The wife came from the Phillippines and knew English a little bit better than Japanese…oh, and she was less than five feet tall and looked about ten years younger than her age. (Ahhh I feel so old here…okay I’m 19, but still…)

            Jackie, which was his nickname because he used to look like Jackie Chan, apparently had a son my age. Not long after mentioning that fact, he suggested we get married—(“he is not so handsome…but he has kindly heart”) It was just a joke, and they were all at least somewhat drunk, but still I thought, “Oh god, not an arranged marriage!” Eventually I got really sleepy because of jet lag, and my tummy was doing weird things the first few days with my host family, so I had to retire, but that was interesting to say the least.

            And how has the first week of classes been, you might ask? Okay you might not. But I’ll tell you anyway. It’s been busy, since we can shop around a bit before settling on our 2 English-language culture courses. I was wavering between “Outside the Mainstream: The Minority Experience in Japan,” “Japanese in Action: Language use in the Anime of Miyazaki Hayao,” and “Families and Work in Post-war Japan,” but I think I’ll go with the last two because they’re more pertinent to my future and the first one has ridiculous reading, like over 100 pages per class. That Miyazaki one also seems like it will be pretty solid, not fluff like my parents thought, because it deals heavily with pragmatics and linguistics.

            Outside of those English-language classes, we have to use Japanese pretty much all the time. Which I have to tell you is pretty overwhelming, so when it’s just us Americans and we’re outside the required Japanese-speaking zones, we end up speaking English a fair amount…we just need that outlet of clear self-expression. As Adam was saying, living here abroad is maybe twice as tiring (mentally and emotionally) as just living back home. Having to put everything through a filter—a second language you’re still working on—can be a bit frustrating, even if you know enough to communicate most things you might need on a day-to-day basis.

            Oh! Another episode for you all! This one’s called “Adventures in Japanese Bureaucracy.” In order for foreigners to get a keitai (cell phone), you either need an alien registration certificate, or at least some proof that you applied for one, since there’s a one-month waiting period. Seeing as I can’t live for a week without a cell, I went to the ward office for my city district right after I got home on Tuesday (just after 4) so I could apply before closing time.

            I figured out how to use the bike my host parents are graciously letting me use…although it is a little old and rickety, and either the seat is set too high or the shape is just weird, so I feel a little nervous. To add to that, a lot of the streets are very…erm…cozy here, so it constantly feels like there’s going to be a crash between the various cyclists, pedestrians and little cars. Combine that with trying to find my way through a neighborhood I don’t know, with pretty much no street names…yeah. Needless to say, I couldn’t find where I was on the Yahoo map that Keita gave me, so I had to give up, stop and ask someone.

            “Ano, sumimasen ga…” (“Um, excuse me, but…”) The first person I tried sort of gave me a glance and kept walking, maybe because I was a scary gaijin wearing sunglasses. The person behind, though, looked like a nice mom pushing a stroller, so I tried her. Thankfully I pretty much understood what she said, so I got to the general area. Then I had to ask another person which building it was, and he pointed me to the entrance. The lady at the info desk told me which window, and I hurried over there and waited for the women who were already there to finish up. When they did, it was already 4:45, so I was already a little nervous.

            I got all the paperwork filled out, and towards the end, I mentioned that I planned to buy a cell phone so I needed the special type of receipt/proof of application. Unfortunately, by the time they got around to that, stuff was shutting down left and right, so the guy just gave me a different kind of receipt, a form to fill out, and said to come back tomorrow. I asked if the next day was okay too, and he said yes. Still, I later wondered if maybe the paper I had gotten would be enough. (It wasn’t entirely clear because I had to do these procedures all in Japanese…yes, the guy at the foreign residents window didn’t know or wasn’t using English. WTF?) But at the follow-up orientation the next day, our program coordinator confirmed that, indeed, it was not enough for the cell phone providers…you need a specific green-ish piece of paper, which I still don’t know the name of because it was a long string of at least ten complicated kanji I hadn’t seen before.

            Well, guess I know where I’m going again this Friday afternoon! And it’s not one of the cute little markets around here. Sigh…

            On the plus side, my host parents are nice and always makes a nice variety of yummy food, even though they’re busy. Although I was home alone last night for various reasons—I wrote on my Facebook that they were living the Japanese dream, which was a joke, but not entirely…

"Itty-Bitty Living Space"

So, I’m finally in Japan.

            These past three days have been crazy, seriously. I think I’d still be exhausted, even without the jetlag.

            I mean, first of all there was the epic journey here: from my house to the orientation hotel, the Hearton Hotel Kyoto, door-to-door, it took over 27 hours. Holy crap. I feel really bad for the international students at Tufts who have to do that kind of thing just to get home for winter break and such. (Note: if you are slightly larger than the average person, do not fly Asiana Airlines. The seats are a little cramped compared to US airlines, probably because we have more obese people. There were some empty seats on our flight though, so if you want to you can probably stretch out and sleep, but…yeah.)

            So I met Hillary at LAX and we got on our flight together from there. I ended up watching three movies—Source Code (strange but interesting), Date Night (awkward but amusing), and my first Korean film called In Love and War—I was really getting into it, but they cut it off when there were only about fifteen minutes left because we were going to land soon. Major blue balls. Will have to find that one later online….muhahaha.

            We transferred in Seoul and didn’t even have time to explore the airport…oh well, hopefully at some point we can take a mini trip to Korea. Then we got on a smaller plane (much more populated with people who were obviously Japanese) going to Kansai International near Osaka. Can you believe they served a meal on that flight? It was maybe an hour and a half. On my five-hour flight from DC to LA, they did have “snack packs”…but you had to buy them. C’mon, America, get with the program! (Or maybe Alaska Airlines just sucks, I don’t really know).

            We arrived there half-dead, but thankfully all the people working in the airport were eager to help us (putting luggage on carts, et cetera). Japanese service really is impeccable. One downside to the attention to detail, though: sometimes it borders on being anal. For example, I filled out my disembarkation card on the plane in pencil, in case I made a mistake. But when I got to customs, the lady said I had to go over it again in ballpoint pen. Uh, excuse me, where on the sheet did it say that? Nowhere, I’m pretty sure. Maybe it’s common sense, but pencil should have been fine too, right?

            We had reservations for the MK Skygate Shuttle, which took us and a random couple to Kyoto. It took way longer than expected, but that gave us time to peer out the window at what little we could see of the roads between Osaka and Kyoto. Oh, and to process that we were really, finally here.

            We checked in at midnight, happily discovered that we had singles, and collapsed into sleep.

            The next two days were a blur of learning thirty-eight new names and faces (we’re forty-one people altogether, but I’m not counting myself, Hillary, or Ann—another Tufts student) and speaking Japanese pretty much nonstop. It’s really exhausting. From now on we’ll barely be able to speak English except in our English-language courses on Japan…it’s going to be tough. But at least nothing can be as tough as that placement test we took on the morning of the second day… I’ve been calling it a “dai-shippai”—a big fail. I don’t even know if that’s correct or not…clearly I’ve got a long way to go.

            Since I’m here for both semesters, though, I’m fairly sure that I’ll get used to campus, find my way around my neighborhood in western Kyoto, and be able to speak more clearly in Japanese. And understand it, of course—I was having a bit of a hard time keeping up with what my host parents were telling me when they picked me up this morning from the hotel waiting room.

            That brings me to my homestay. My host parents actually seem pretty cool. Although the dad, Keita, is 51, he dresses youthfully, does not act old and stuffy, and plays guitar in a band. (I’m going to see one of his concerts tonight! But Hiroko, the mom, has to do something for work, so I’ll be alone in the audience…) Hiroko is 34, young and pretty, and probably a good foot shorter than I am. She’s actually the “salaryman” in the family: she commutes to and from work each day and works at a company that deals with real estate specifically for students. Keita works mostly from home and does textiles and graphic design for a very small company. At least, I think it’s a company…it might be a studio. They seem like they’re going to give me plenty of freedom to do as I please, but they’ll be there for me when I have a question or problem, so that’s nice to know.

            The apartment is pretty cramped, as is my room, which is even smaller than most singles in Tufts’ dorms. But since I’ve done homestays before in Japan, however briefly, I’m used to the economy of space. It’s also pretty hot, but there’s an air conditioner in the room, which I’m going to use sparingly. I can’t waste energy or water because of setsuden, the energy conservation campaign in the wake of the earthquake/nuclear disaster.

            So I’m a little burnt out from all the changes and having to put up a good front for everyone and pretend to understand what they’re saying. But it’ll be fine.
            Kore kara ganbarimasu! (From here on out, I’ll do my best!)

Note: Credit for this entry’s title goes to Disney—it’s one of Genie’s lines in Aladdin, just in case you didn’t know. ;P

Postscript: I just went out exploring at the start of a typhoon, NBD. (Seriously though, we just had an earthquake and hurricane on the east coast right before I came here, so it’s no big whoop.) Also, when I was walking back to the apartment, some teenage girls passed me on their bikes and said, “Oh, harro!” J It was cute~ Though it’s interesting that when they see a foreigner, they assume she speaks English…