After our last work experience in Japan neither of us had been looking forward to a return. We'd been on contract with an international group who weren't an example of united international cooperation. Sometimes, however, contracts change and drop you where you don't want to be.
I wish there was work in New Zealand for I really hate that lost, rootless feeling of trying to live in another country when you are there, not as a tourist for fun, but to try and live like the real inhabitants. It's back to the old frustrations of: I can't read the notices, can't understand anything but the simple basics of language or instructions, can't get around easily. Even the basic tasks like posting a letter demand so much time to check the country, mail rate, make sure you have the correct postal sticker and that your address is clearly written on the back. Everything becomes so slow because you don't know the language well.
In Japan we can't even guess at the written words. Take the rubbish collection schedule, it's like a school time table; you must get the right day, place, time and correct sticker on the bag. The burnable rubbish is incinerated to heat the water used in central heating systems in the municipal buildings. Everything else is sorted minutely and collected only on one special day each month. For example there are different days for each type of plastic, another for plastic bags, broken glass or china, clothes etc. But it is very confusing when I can't read enough Japanese.
We are living near a small town in Shizuoka prefecture, which is half way between Tokyo and Osaka on the Pacific coast. This area has been inhabited by humankind for around 30,000 years. It's home to leatherback turtles, lots of magnificent Bronze Age settlements, (mostly built over, of course) tea, citrus fruit (chiefly the mikan - a tangerine) and, in the good old days, the home of silk growers and weavers, rice straw mat weavers (a quick tuck and fold and they become fantastic hooded raincoats!) and fishermen. Now, however, it is the market garden of Tokyo and the green tea garden of Japan. It's also a very different and more relaxed place compared to the last Japanese city we lived in. I've noticed that the standard of dress here is less rigid as well. My husband doesn't have to wear a suit and tie. I shall never forget having to wear tights and a women's suit in 40 degrees C with 100% humidity the last time I was in Japan. Mind you, we still dress up by New Zealand standards.
We live in a standard Japanese flat. The building is a jerry built slab of ugliness. How the Japanese, with their keen aesthetic appreciation, tolerate such awful buildings I do not know but they are everywhere. I have plans that include growing a green screen reusing a number of large pots and tubs recycled from the Beach Clean Up group's monthly clean up. Tubs of flowers and some nice climbing plants should help camouflage the awfulness. There are three flats on the ground floor and three upstairs. Not much in the way of insulation or sound proofing and each flat is the size of a small living room back home. We have steps up to the balcony, a front door, a tiny kitchen with one of those moulded plastic aeroplane bathrooms off it that you can barely step into and a living/sleeping room that is an "eight mat tatami" room, in Japanese terms. The tatami mats are nice and thick - 1" - but only 3' by 6'. The bed is the Japanese futon, that extra thick sleeping bag, and we roll it up into the cupboard each day. I'm sure it's very good for the spine but I'm finding it harder than hard. As the three upstairs flats are the company flats they have a good collection of electrical gadgets in them. This time there aren't just the two gas rings for cooking - we have a microwave, a toaster oven, a rice maker, our bread making machine, and a wondrous collection of pots, including a great big stew pot.
Thank heavens for the Edmonds Cook book. I've never used a microwave before but the old Edmonds has a neat little section of recipes, including a steamed date pudding made in five minutes. We got a friend to print little notices for all the gadgets so that we know which buttons to push. It helps I've slowly learned how to use the microwave. The first chocolate cake was so overcooked it fell into dry crumbs. Hard to judge times as the heating systems in these Japanese microwaves are quite different from home. All Japanese microwaves are also convection ovens apparently but I haven't worked that out yet.
We also have an automatic washing machine, which is a great help, but drying clothes is a matter of using all those dinky toy hangers and drying racks the Japanese use on the balcony. As the balcony is on the cold side of the flat it's pretty difficult to dry stuff and also it means that the door to the flat is always blocked by washing. Not a great welcome to visitors.
The trouble with Japan for we Westerners is that everything is just the wrong size. Doorways are too narrow and low, work tops, sinks, door handles are all way down low. The concert hall and cinema seats are so narrow even my skinny husband complained. Eating with chopsticks is not difficult if you only wish to pick up chunks of things. The skill lies in being able to peel apart, turn, or manoeuvre small pieces of food. When you eat a traditional Japanese meal you have to be able to take the smoked eel from its skin, pick up the teeny flakes of ginger and turn the small slices of raw fish in the wasabi and scrape off any excess. Tricky stuff.
On the other hand the Japanese transport systems put the rest of the world to shame. The buses and trains run on time. We have to use the buses regularly and boy are they punctual and clean. Even the oldest buses with their old fashioned furry plush upholstery are shiny clean. Not a speck of dust in the plush and the head-rests make you feel pampered they are so inviting. No fear of nits from these. Of course, being Japanese the buses have a payment system that is computerised. Enter at the back door, take the ticket from the little slot and settle down. Your ticket is numbered.
At the front of the bus is a screen divided into little squares and each square is numbered. As your journey proceeds the squares show the amount of money. It's very useful actually, for me, as I'm hopeless at finding places for the first few times, but if I know that my stop come after the money under my ticket number is 250 yen or 320 yen I can always get off at the right stop. When you leave by the front door you drop your ticket and exact change into the machine there and it thanks you nicely or tells you you've not paid the correct amount. It also hands out change for notes and larger denomination coins.
The driver is all wired up as well and he calls out the stops and information re delays in a sonorous but dulcet voice. They train 'em specially. Polite isn't in it. In the early mornings there are always hoards of school kids getting off at their schools. The driver drones a thank you and please come again to every one.
Still that's Japan. Politeness all round, even to crazy foreigners.
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