Ch-ch-ch-changes

When I first moved into my host family's house, this was a working gas station. After about a month, they started tearing the structure down. Of course, in a tight space like Tokyo, you can't go just haphazardly start knocking buildings down. So they brought the construction equipment in and started pulling the pieces apart, brick by brick, support by support. A month later, they cleared the equipment out, pulled up the last of the pavement, and vacated the site.

It's a fresh start.

I could use one of those.

---

When I first got to Japan, I assumed I would be more or less immune to culture shock. I don't know why. It's pretty stupid in retrospect, admittedly. But, I figured, people are people. What are trifling details like language and culture going to do to change that?

The flip side of this is that, even when being generally okay with the culture and the language, you will occasionally come into conflict with individuals.

My host family are really nice, sweet people, and they're doing a good job taking care of me. However, this does not remedy the fact that my host mom and host sister have been fighting daily for the better part of three weeks. My host sister is 15, so understandably she and my host mom butt heads quite a bit. But the bad news is that Japanese houses are tiny and not very soundproof, so any spat on their part will automatically drift to my ears, regardless of where I am.

I suppose the worse news is that this started happening roughly the same time I injured my foot.

It's a stupid story, really. It was a Tuesday morning. I had Japanese class first thing, so around 8 AM I started heading to the train station to catch the limited express train headed for Takadanobaba. As I entered the station and started walking down the stairs, I noticed with a start that my train was already at the platform. I had to hurry, otherwise I might miss it and risk being late. The stairs in Saginomiya station are a little treacherous, because they're narrow as-is, even moreso when you factor in my large, foreigner-sized feet. But because I was hurrying and simply not paying attention, I stepped a little too far forward and lost my footing. I started falling forward.

My knees buckled, and my legs folded under me. Unfortunately, when you are decending stairs and you end up in such a position, the first thing to connect with the ground is not your sturdy, durable knee, but your weak and unprotected ankle. The bulk of my body weight ended up coming down on the top of my left foot, and to make matters worse, forward motion dragged me down a few steps. The pain was astounding. At first, I thought I was sure I had broken something. But after determining that I was still able to stand, I figured that the best thing to do was get to class. I limped my way to the platform and waited for the next train. To add insult to injury, mine had already pulled away.

It quickly became apparent that I had misjudged the situation. The pain kept getting worse, not better, and the heat and crowded conditions nearly made me pass out. Unfortunately, I was about 10 minutes away from school and about 25 minutes away from home, so I figured the best way to get help was to keep going forward. I eventually finished dragging myself to Waseda. I ran into some friends who helped me get to the clinic. The rest of the morning is a blur of trying to scrape together enough Japanese to explain what had happened and where I hurt, and moving from clinic to hospital, from exam room to exam room.

Through some miracle, I didn't break anything. I pulled a ligament in my foot when I fell and I scraped a good deal of skin off the top of my foot as I slid down the stairs, but apart from that I was intact.

There are three morals to this story:
1) Japanese stairs will try to kill you.
2) Drinking milk is a good thing, so doing stupid things won't destroy your bones.
3) Better slightly late than in the hospital.

Tell me those aren't great lessons. Aesop's got nothing on me.

---

Through it all, I'm still here. Still alive. Still with intact bones (despite efforts to the contrary). Still hanging in there.

Oh, and in case you were wondering? They don't trick or treat in Japan.

The Naming of Things

There's a talk coming up at my school called "Just Do Eat" (yeah, I don't know either), so I assume it's something about nutrition or food matters. I got a flier for it, and I was looking it over, and there are apparently two special guest speakers. One is a model. The other is a woman whose occupation is listed as "Senior Vegetable and Fruit Master."

Senior Vegetable and Fruit Master. She's probably a dietitian or something, but that's a pretty intimidating job title for someone who just tells you what to eat.

I think we should tack "master" onto job titles in the US, too. What better way to turn a humdrum, boring job description into something interesting and captivating?

Filing master. Door-to-door sales master. And, the most useful one for me after I get my Asian Studies degree, pizza delivery master. I can almost feel the respect rolling in.

Warmer Climes/Trick or Treat/Business-like

This is, perhaps, not the deepest observation about Japan, but even at the end of October, it's still strangely warm here. I suppose it's that crazy "island-nation" thing, but it's almost disconcerting to still be wearing tank tops and light jackets immediately before Halloween.

Speaking of Halloween, I was surprised at how popular Halloween is here. There are large displays in most of the major stores, including black and orange garlands and those cheesy fake bats on the walls. My host sister for one is positively obsessed with the idea. But then again, I suppose the allure of free candy is a siren song no matter what language you speak.

I have no idea if the concept of "Trick or Treat" exists in Japan like it does in the U.S. Guess I'll see, huh?

A little wonky business aside:

A note to LJ users: I've set up a Livejournal feed so you can syndicate this journal to your friends page. Look it up under the name "girl_japan" or click here. (Just make sure to stop by the main page if you want to comment! Otherwise, I'll probably never see it.)

For existing feed members, be sure to stop by the main frame of the blog from time to time. Right now, I've got a poll going on what subjects will be covered in future entries, so if you have an idea, send it my way! If you're reading this on a feed, click here to visit the main page and vote for future subjects.

The only exisiting feed is the one on Livejournal, but if anyone feels any particular drive to create another feed for this blog (on Myspace or Facebook or what-have-you), feel free to do so. Just give me a link so I can spread the love around.

Better posts to come when I work through some more of the GIGANTIC PICTURE BACKLOG this weekend. Stay tuned.

Engrish

I've taken something along the lines of 500 pictures since I got here, so I have quite a bit of backlog to go through. Until I'm done organizing and writing-up all the summary needed, there's going to be very little in the way of new stuff, for which I apologize.

In the meantime, enjoy some Engrish.com-style language issues.



Unfortunately, no sandwiches are both big and delicious.



I guess if you need a new one, this is the best place to go.



You have to hover to get there.



I think I'm just entertained by the phase "armbaito"



In case you didn't have enough Japanese super junk...



No comment.



Unfortunately, their sister restaurant Voluptuous Potato was closed for renovations.



Luckily, they're starting up a 12-step junk addiction program soon.



An explosive combination.



Perhaps not something to brag about, but whatever makes them happy.



An unlikely target audience in Japan.



For some people who insist on buying branded goods, this may very well be the case.



At least they're honest.

Stray cats

I don't usually talk about my Japanese language notes (nor do I intend to make it a habit, since not everyone is as entranced by Japanese as I am), but I found this one kind of interesting.

In Japanese, the word "noraneko" literally refers to a stray cat. You'll see noraneko around Tokyo from time to time, and unlike most strays, they don't seem to be terribly bothered by people.

What's interesting, though is that the use of the word has morphed to include not only actual cats but homeless women around Tokyo. There are apparently a few young women in Tokyo who basically leech off of other people for food, places to sleep, new clothes and the like. They "meow" and "purr" their way into men's hearts, if only for a while.

(This is also probably one also why earlier today, my Japanese professor laughed a bit when a girl in my class said she liked to rescue noranekos.)

Catch-Up

Long time no see, folks. Here's the latest:

School stuff proceeds well so far. I registered for classes last week. Miraculously and contrary to my suspicions, I ended up in Japanese 3B (for mid-intermediate for lower advanced speakers). I honestly don't know how that happened. It feels like I spend most of my time here asking for explanations, so I'm hardly proficient. But that's neither here nor there. In addition to Japanese, I hopefully will be taking History of Modern Japan, Japanese Literature after 1945, and (somewhat inexplicably) English-language Creative Writing.

There actually is a bit of a story there. I've long been a fan of Haruki Murakami, a Japanese author who writes a mixture of primarily dark fiction in the form of short stories and novels and the occasional non-fiction piece.

My first and favorite of his was a book called The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle. It was dark, funny, poignant, and thought-provoking. I was in love.



It made me wonder, though, how much was lost in the translation. So I spoke to my Japanese professor about it and asked him what the original Japanese editions were like.

"Oh," he told me. "Haruki Murakami in Japanese is nothing special. His prose is so-so, it's just the plot that is driving. I think he's much better in English than Japanese."

I was totally floored by this. Such an odd thought, that the translation actually improved a book! I did some research on the translators for Murakami. Primarily, his works are translated by either Alfred Birnbaum or Jay Robin. Birnbaum has done the lion's share, and by his translation alone, he's clearly a talented scholar and author.

And guess what? He apparently teaches a Creative Writing class at Waseda.

I don't know how or why I signed up for it, honestly. There were a ton of other good classes to take. But somehow, when I registered, I ended up filling in that bubble on the class sheet and turning it in. I suppose I'll have many opportunities to take creative writing at Knox, but how often will I have the chance to take creative writing with a well-respected author and translator?

Normalcy

It's amazing how quickly people can fall into a routine. I've been in Japan for about a week now, and I've already started falling into somewhat of a routine.

We usually get herded around Tokyo with the group to various and sundry places. Today we went to the Tatemono-en, the Tokyo Building and Architecture Museum. Yesterday we went Asakusa, part of Shita-machi, the old part of Tokyo. The day before that, we explored Waseda University and Takadanobaba, the surrounding area. It was all very exciting, but until I manage to download the pictures from my camera, you're going to have to take my word for that.

But I digress.

We get up everyday, eat breakfast at the cafeteria, travel around Tokyo, eat dinner and walk around our neighborhood in Higashi-Yamato. We already know where to go for good udon, delicious cake, cheap pastries. There's a cute store around the corner that sells really pretty purses, umbrellas, and wallets, and there's another place nearby where the shopkeeper loves to talk to American students.

I've already (almost) gotten used to walking on the left side of the street, saying "domo" to to waitresses, and using my subway quickpass. If all this has happened in a week, it'll be interesting to see what will happen by the end of 10 months.

I suppose it just goes to show that people are creatures of habit, and we adapt to new routines quickly. I just find it intensely interesting that my 19 years in the states have quite easily given way to a week in Japan. When in Rome, I suppose.