I'm Outside, It's Snowing, and I'm Naked

Yes I really was.  This weekend I went to Fukushima which is a few hours north of Tokyo.  There, I attempted to ski.  However, I failed.  Miserably.  I couldn’t stop properly.  I would just keep going and not stop unless I purposely fell.  Sukasan explained to me how to do it, but I kept trying to tell her that my body really just could not get in the position to stop and hold it for the appropriate time.  I tried several times, always falling down to try to reach the bottom, but never really reached it.  I decided to quit when I thought I tore my ACL.  My knee was killing me, but I quickly dismissed such an injury when I rose unassisted.  Looking back on the way I fell, I am really lucky I did not.  That would have totally ruined my trip to Japan.

So now here’s the interesting part of the trip—the hot spring.  It’s a public bath, but so relaxing.  Yes, everyone must get naked.  But don’t worry ladies, they split it up—one bath for men and the other for women.  I had no real problem getting naked in front of a bunch of dudes.  I wrestled for 6 years, saw naked dudes all the time.  Everyone looking at me, however, did unnerve me.  I’m getting used to the stares on the train, but now in a spring where I am naked?   Whatever.  But yeah, they also had a hot spring outside.  Of course I went.  How many other times can I be naked in the snow and still be comfortable?  Not many, well at least in America.

Anyway, you know that feeling you get from coming from outside during a cold winter day into the warm house?  It’s really nice.  This feeling does not exist in Japan.  Most houses do not have central heating.  My house is one of them.  Instead, only a few rooms have a heater in them.  And one turns these heaters on only when they are present in the room.  A blanket is also a very popular option within the Suka household.  Fortunately, my room has a heater.  I do not use it that much. 

All of this is an effort to be more green and conserve energy.  One must turn on the hot water heater in order to get hot water for a shower.  All laundry is done in a small washing machine that only washed clothes cold.  Want a dryer?  Too bad, hang your clothes up outside or in the house to dry.  The toilet seat cleans your bottom for you, not only because it is more sanitary, but to save on toilet paper usage.  Then in some cases, the sink is on top of the toilet and you wash your hands with the water that is about to become toilet water.  There are only air dryers in public bathrooms, no paper towels.  I still have not figured out how to dispose of recyclables and trash.  It’s pretty confusing.  There are so many things that are recycled.  I know the lids and straws at McDonalds are recycled. 

Probably the most significant energy saver is the extensive public transportation system of Japan.  The Japanese should take great pride in this vast network that extends from Hokkaido in the north to Fukuoka in the south.  Millions of Japanese rely on this network every day to get to work or to somewhere of leisure.  I take the train every day to get to school.  I never have to worry about catching the train into Tokyo because there’s one every 5 minutes, and I live in freaking Saitama.  In New Brunswick, if I miss the train into New York City, I have to wait about 40 minutes for the next one to arrive.  Despite its frequency, the train is often really crowded in the morning.  This means that less people drive, saving tons of gas, energy, and money each year.  Additionally, the government does not have to pour in money trying to update the highway systems to adapt to changing traffic patterns.  The rail system is set and can be added and maintained, but costs, should not be as bad.   Most importantly, the network gets you close to your final destination.  Stations are all over Tokyo.  As I have already said, the Japanese should take great pride in this network.

As for me, I am doing well.  Classes are boring, but I am getting through.  I have made more friends and having a good time with the students at TUJ.  Corinne, Connie, and John, if you’re reading this, you’ll be happy to know that I got your souvenirs already.  Grandmom Evanowski, I also got your gift.  Hope you like them when I get home.  I really appreciate you reading this.  I cannot wait to share personal stories when I get back.  I miss all of you, bare through the snow!

I Wish They all Could be Japanese Girls

In their hit song, “California Girls”, The Beach Boys claimed that they’ve “been all around this great big world” seen many women, but “couldn’t wait to get back to the states, back to the cutest girls in the world”.  I am guessing they forgot to go to Japan.  I mean the second thing I noticed in Japan was how beautiful the girls were.  And I’m not just saying one here, and then maybe another—almost all of them are absolutely gorgeous.  Even the ones who dress weird look cute.  They are thin with perfectly applied make-up and perfectly combed hair.  Their voices sound so cute.  When they smile...you just want to go かわいい！！

            The girls age very well too.  I was at the club the other night and met a girl.  We danced and talked.  Then she asked me how old I was and I said I was 21.  She then wanted me to guess how old she was.  I replied 23 to which she started to giggle.  “Flip the numbers around, and you have my real age” she said.  I could not believe it.  I wasn’t trying to flatter her, she honestly looked 23 years old.  But enough about that night.

            Now many of you reading this well know that I have been suffering the yellow fever for quite some time.  Consequently, you may think I am exaggerating a bit.  Maybe you are telling yourself, “yeah, he may find those Japanese girls attractive, but he likes Asians, I don’t.  He’s just wrong.”  Well, many of the guy friends I have made here have been more bonkers than I have over these girls.  Many of them also claim that they never found Asian women attractive until now.  I am telling you, there is something about these Japanese girls.  If you doubt me, go to Japan.  Tell me how you feel when you come back.

            To all the American girls reading this, I apologize for having you read the above.  Trust me, you are good-looking too.  I am sure there is a guy out there for you…it’s just not this one.  Let’s be friends.

            Right about now, my mom is probably having a panic attack thinking that I might not come home on the account that the girls here are gorgeous.  Let me assure you mom, I am not staying here.  I love Japan, and I am having a great time.  There is just one thing I cannot stand—being a 外人 (gaijin, outsider).  All eyes are on me wherever I go.  Sometimes, I will sit on the train and the person next to me will stand up and move to the other side of the train.  It sucks.  Also, when I ride my bike, I have to worry about getting pulled over by a cop who may think that I stole it.  The worst part is, is there is no way to assimilate for me.  Even if I master Japanese, people will sill stare at me.  They will still get up when I sit down on the train.  The cops will still think I am a troublemaker.  In America, I do not suffer this.  Trust me, it’s okay here.  I make the most of it.  Occasionally, I will look down at the ground on the train and then pop my head up suddenly to which many of the Japanese quickly put their heads down.  I don’t mind it all that much.  It’s only 4 months—my whole life on the other hand, couldn’t do it.  So yes mom, if I fall in love here, she will come to America.

            Otherwise, school is good.  There is more work than I would like, but things are going well.  I am making a lot of friends.  Unfortunately I could not celebrate my birthday tonight on the account of homework and a heavy class-load tomorrow.  I don’t want to miss class because I have quizzes in two of them, and if you miss like 4 classes, you fail the course.  So, I want to save those absences for emergencies.  However, tomorrow night, I shall celebrate my 21^st birthday. 

Please, I Take Three: My Journey to Japan

Well it’s safe to say that the past few days have been some of the most exciting and scariest moments in my life.  So much has happened lately, that I really do not know how to start.  The best way I guess would be just like most things (except Star Wars)…in the beginning. 

It all began in my driveway.  I was all packed an excited to finally venture off to a new continent.  On the drive down however, fear and anxiety began to churn with the excitement.  I looked at the American flags along the road and thought “this is the last time I see so many of them waving for a few months…shit, this is the last time I see my parents for four months”.  I wanted to cry at that very moment, but managed to hold it to one tear. 

My parents and I arrived at JFK, and checked in.  We then ate.  I had two snack-wraps from McDonalds—both grilled one barbecue and the other honey mustard— with green tea.  As my departure grew near, it was time to say good-bye.  Since the car ride over, I imagined how this moment would be and dreaded immensely.  I hugged my parents before I got in line for the security check and told both of them I loved them.  I got in line, and never looked back, fearing I would just lose it crying. 

I went through the TSA scanning process.  I set off the metal detector a few times, but they didn’t subject me to the pat-down.  But I was specially searched.  I was wearing an ACE-bandage, and did some kind of check to ensure I wasn’t carrying a knife or something.  I left the TSA scan relieved, but then I did something that I probably haven’t done in about 16 years.  I cried at the thought of leaving my mother.

A few deep breaths and shopping helped me get over the separation from my parents.  Right before my flight departed, I bought the most recent issue of The Economist.  As I read, the feeling of excitement began to overwhelm the anxiety for the first time since the car ride. I boarded Air China 982 bound for Beijing with great excitement.  I sat down next to two Chinese women, a mother and her daughter.   If there was an MVP for my trip form JFK to Hilton Shinjuku, it was definitely the staff of Air China.  Air China exceeded my low expectations immensely.  I was treated really well by the stewardesses on the plane received two special low-fat meals on the way to Beijing International and one on the way to Narita International.  They even let me roam the plane during moments of turbulence.  The last feature may seem un-important, but we encountered a good amount of turbulence (nothing major) and with a 13 hour flight, you need to stand up and walk quite often.  I watched Zoolander on my computer, and it died as soon as Mugato’s assistant said “Magnum”. 

I arrived in Beijing airport at 7pm local time.  By then, the airport was dead; very little incoming and outgoing flights (at least to my knowledge in terminal 3).  But Beijing airport is spotless and like a giant shopping mall.  They had duty free shops all over.  I went inside.  The Chinese love cigarettes.  They were so popular.  And why not?  Marlboro was the most expensive brand there at 100 CNY for 10 packs of cigarettes.  That’s $15.09 USD.  Just goes to show you how much the government charges Americans to light up.  O well. 

My 15, yes, 15 hours there was quite nice.  I ate some chicken skewers and drank a Carlsburg.  I did a lot of exploring and window shopping.  Unlike cigarettes, luxury items were expensive.  Burberry items in China compared to the United States are priced twice as high.  The scarf I looked at cost near $500 USD.  At 12am, all the stores, except the giant tobacco and alcohol duty-free store closed.  I then fell asleep, woke up, slept, woke up and slept again until 6am.  At that time, all the stores opened up again.  I went through more duty-free shops focusing on souvenirs.  In one of the stores, an attendant approached me and said in a heavy Chinese accent, “Excuse me sir, can I help you?”

“No thanks” I replied with a smile.

“Please, I take three” she told me while bowing.

At first, this amused me a little, but then I was like “wait, who I am I?  Should she even be trying to speak English to me?  I mean in America, we approach all in English.  She had the sincerity to at least try some kind of English in front of an obvious American” Plus, it was at this time that I realized that in a way, I would be like this girl during the trip except on a much bigger scale.  I would have to approach the Japanese and try their language.  Not to mention, I will, for the first time in my life, be a racial minority.  I will experience an environment similar to racial minorities in the United States, however, not quite as bad, because the typical Japanese person is much kinder than your typical American.    

Anyway, I boarded Air China 925 to Tokyo at 8:55am local time.  I arrived at Narita airport at 2pm Tokyo time.  Going through customs and immigration was easy.  I picked up my bags to discover that the idiots who handled my bags broke a wheel on my green bag.  I’ll limit my MVP status to the steward staff.  I got a bus ticket to the Hilton Shinjuku.  Already my bad Japanese kicked in.  “Ichimai kitte Shinjuku Hilton made o kudasai”  I told the attendant.   She gave me an odd look, and I realized my mistake.  I asked for a stamp to the Shijuku hotel.  “Sumimasen, ichiban kippu!” 

It was a two hour bus ride.  I arrived at the hotel around 5pm.  There, I first met Arisasan.  Arisasan speaks perfect English with no accent despite being native Japanese.  We talked a bit as I waited for my host mother Suka Megumi.  Megumisan arrived a little after I did with her friend Narita Megumi who was also a host mother of a TUJ student.  The other student, Celine, wasn’t expected to arrive until 8pm, so Megumisan and Megumisan showed me around Shinjuku with their children.  I saw the Tokyo skyline from an observation tower for the cheap price of nothing.  We acquired travel guides for me.

They then took me out to eat.  I was curious to what they would choose.  We went into Denny’s.  At this point, in my head I was like, “Seriously, I just flew a little under 9,000 miles just to eat the same greasy crap they serve in the United States?”  I was soon surprised.  Denny’s Japan, is the complete opposite of Denny’s America.  They had all Japanese food.  French fries was the sole exception.  I couldn’t read the menu.  I felt so overwhelmed.  Fortunately, they had pictures of almost everything.  I ordered something with chicken in it and I wish I could tell you what it was because it was good.  Megumi (my host mother) was surprised because she intended on ordering the same thing.

Megumi lives with her two daughters, Nanami and Kazumi, plus her parents.   Megumi graduated from Temple University so she has a rather well understanding of English, thus communication is reachable.  She is one of the nicest people I have ever met.  I feel totally welcome here.  She doesn’t mind that my knowledge of Japanese is limited and seems content to speak Japanglish.  Additionally, she has gone out of her way several times to make sure I know where to go, what to do, and help me just do everyday things.  Nani and Kazu are 9 and 7 years old respectively.  They are rather shy girls.  They speak absolutely no English.  I hear that they don’t really open up to well from previous students.  But I have been making some efforts.  I have been showing them a lot of pictures of the United States.  Ojiisan and Obaasan (grand pop and grand mum) are also very nice.  They also speak no English, so I try to pick up some things they say to me and they try to understand my Japanglish and hand signals. 

You may be wonder at this point, “Where’s daddy?”  It’s a question I thought about as soon as I found out I would be living with the Sukas.  I didn’t plan on asking because I knew there was no possible good outcome.  Didn’t expect this one—she  willingly told me without me asking that he died about 5 years ago.  A drunk driver hit him as he crossed the street.  I didn’t know how to feel. I just kept saying sumimasen (I am sorry).  She kept replying “daijyoobu” (It’s okay).  Her family is so nice, they didn’t deserve something like that happen to them.  Hopeful the scum responsible for this is spending a long time in jail.

Closing note, I promise.  Here in Japan, almost everybody is Japanese.  There are very few foreigners like myself.  Foreigners are observed.  Every since I have arrived I have been asked so many questions about America.  When all eyes are on you, it makes even the simplest Japanese such as self-introduction, hard. I would know, yesterday I blanked out in front of a group of 10 year old Japanese girl scouts, but more about this in my next entry.  I am doing well and a great time here.  There are so many differences about this culture that I will get into later.  As of for now さようなら！