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…