Comedy in Japan

If you have ever read Dave Barry's "Dave Barry Does Japan", you may be under the impression that Japan doesn't do comedy well. Maybe you think their idea of comedy is, as Dave Barry describes in his book, rakugo. 

I absolutely do not understand all of what makes some Japanese comedians funny, but I do find some of them incredibly funny.


Many non-Japanese people who watch TV shows from Japan will often shake their heads and wonder how in the world such a conservative country could be so darned weird.

The answer, my friends, lies in Britain.

Britain is a relatively conservative, proper country that is also famous for such utterly bizarre comedy groups as Monty Python. Japan takes that up a notch.

What Japanese comedians do is poke fun at the supremely conservative society of Japan (the phrase "Stiff upper lip" doesn't go far enough here) by being absurd for all to see. It's cathartic for many in this society to watch these people acting ridiculous and just laugh at how crazy it is.

There are a variety of comedy brands here in Japan. I'll go over a few briefly.



First, the one Dave Barry mentioned in his book, called rakugo.

As you can see in the video, rakugo involves a man sitting on a traditional Japanese cushion, wearing traditional Japanese clothing, and regaling audiences with corny jokes and long-winded stories that have been told for hundreds and hundreds of years. Some have updated twists, but this is tradition more than comedy. Every now and then the comedians will land an actually funny joke or say a corny joke that will illicit a few chortles, but my experience with rakugo has not been fantastic. I believe this is comedy best left to old Japanese people.


Next up is manzai, which is two people talking in front of a microphone. You always have one person who's an idiot and the other who's sharper than a tack, correcting the idiot. The two of them playing off one another can make for some great jokes.
Osaka, a large city in western Japan, is famous for producing legendary manzai comedians. Manzai is also riddled with jabs at Japanese culture the way the routines of stand-up comedians in America are, so consider understanding all of a manzai routine as the ultimate Japanese Language Ability challenge.

Arguably the best duo of manzai is called Knights (see video). The man on the left is the idiot and the man on the right corrects him. This duo is known for their insane speed of delivering their lines and the way they can both weave a pretty decent (though mistake-riddled) story in the space of a few minutes.

(Highlight from their sketch above:
 Idiot: I was in a bike accident and put into "rock-habilitation" for a year
Smart guy: "Rehabilitation", you mean. Why would you use that moment to declare your hope of becoming a rock star?)



Next up are a couple other comedic duos who don't do manzai, but, instead, think up funny comedy routines the way Will Ferrell makes up comedic personalities like Ron Burgandy.



The first duo I like are called Cow Cow (and yes, they know what the word "cow" means).

In Japan, for reasons yet to be explained to me, many people listen to the radio in the early morning (usually old people), and the PBS of Japan (called NHK) broadcasts "radio exercises" for people at home to listen to and do. The music to accompany the radio exercises is always a piano, giving it all the feel of a nursing home.

Here is an honest-to-God radio exercise program that was also broadcast on NHK's TV station:

If you can watch this for a few minutes without laughing, you are more mature than I am.


Now, Cow Cow also couldn't contain their laughter when watching this, and so decided to make a spoof on this cultural treat of Japan, called "Obvious Radio Exercises."

Highlights from this gem of a routine include their first set of exercise instructions: "If you put your right foot out, then put your left foot out, you can walk."

Another is: "If you call someone over and they stand way too close to you, it annoys you."

Yet another is: "When playing rock,paper,scissors, if you throw out your move after your opponent, you will win."

This duo was incredibly popular last year, with many a middle school student quoting the duo's routine or making up their own versions.



One that's popular this year is called Doburoku (their name is apparently a combination of their names)

They are famous for a song they sing called "Just maybe", in which they sing from the point-of-view of a guy faced with a situation involving a beautiful woman, and how the man believes anything the woman does is because she secretly likes the guy.

In a nice way of rounding out this whole post, here they are performing on a famous rakugo TV show.

Highlights from their song include such lyrics as:
 "When I sat on the train, a woman sat down next to me and ended up sitting on part of my coat."
 "Just maybe, just maybe, she just didn't want me to leave."

"When I was standing at a bus stop, the woman standing next to me couldn't stop coughing."
 "Just maybe, just maybe, she was overwhelmed by my pheromones."

"At the last stop on the train, I saw a woman still sleeping on the train."
"Just maybe, just maybe, she was hoping for a good-morning kiss from me."

"This woman was walking toward me, but completely engrossed in her phone, and she ran into me."
"Just maybe, just maybe, she was searching for 'Hot guy' on her phone, and her search found me."


I quite like Doburoku, who are continually updating the lyrics to this song.

The power of the kotatsu

A kotatsu

For several years I've wanted to buy a kotatsu. In case you're not sure what they are, they are tables with an upper table that you can take off in order to drape a thick blanket over the base of the table. You shove the upper table part back, and voila, you have a table with a blanket.

You sit on the floor to enjoy your koatsu, usually on cushions.

I forgot to mention the best part of these lovely tables: They come with a little stove attached to the bottom of the base table, ensuring your lower body (or all of you depending on how swallowed up you become in the kotatsu) is toasty warm.

I finally bought one last year, and I haven't looked back.

Kotatsus are quite possibly the greatest invention for winter that has ever been thought up.

They are also like the black holes of the universe, though. As soon as you turn on that little stove and have a nice clementine or two within arm's reach along with a nice cup of tea, you may never leave the kotatsu. Like a weekend of random club hopping and binge-drinking, your entire weekend could be swallowed up in a heart beat, and you may never realize it.

As it finally feels like it may be winter here (which I find deeply unfortunate), I've set up my kotatsu for the winter, and I'm currently nice and warm as I write this, and quite unwilling to get up and do anything, which may include making dinner.

Somehow these nifty devices make winter a little more bearable, but I have yet to figure out how to willfully turn the kotatsu off, get up, and do something remotely productive. Why bother when you can sit here, instead?

I have a dream of one day buying this one, featuring a Mickey Mouse pattern: http://www.bellemaison.jp/disney/102/pr/3202013C/150580/?SHNCRTTKKRO_KBN=0H

America, why don't you have these yet?

Fast Food Chains in Japan vs. America

A menu for Dominos in Japan

This may come as a shock to...no one...but McDonalds and such can be found nearly everywhere on Earth. The Sphinx in Egypt, what is it looking at? I heard the answer is a KFC. I was personally dumbfounded to find a Starbucks put right outside the entrance to Canterbury Cathedral in England.

Japan, naturally, is no exception. Although Burger King is becoming harder and harder to find, and I've yet to see a Taco Bell, you can find Subway, Pizza Hut, McDonalds, Coldstones, Dennys, Starbucks, Baskin Robbins and Dominos here. (I know that many people don't consider Starbucks to be a part of the fast food industry, but I believe it fits the description pretty well.)

To be clear, it is my firm belief that when you are in a foreign country as a tourist, it is your sworn duty to avoid fast food places available in America like the plague. I think it's absolutely ridiculous to go to, say, Italy and spend your entire time there eating at McDonalds.

However, when you are living in a foreign country for a long time, you start to miss eating some of the food from home. I mostly enjoy cooking food from home, but every now and then I like to wander into a fast food place and just see what they have from time to time.

Below is a list of what makes each fast food place different compared to its counterpart in America.



First, as a general rule to remember, portion sizes in Japan are a fraction of what they are in America. Don't walk into any of these places expecting that 100 yen will get you a hamburger the size of your fist.

Second, a little trait that I happen to love, most of Japan's fast food places offer unsweetened versions of tea (green, oolong, black) right alongside their options for Coke or Pepsi. Japan also offers, in some places, a lovely green pop called Melon Soda, which is amazing.

Burger King 
As I said, Burger King is disappearing in Japan. I have no idea why, actually. Therefore, I've only had a couple of opportunities to eat at Burger King here, and neither one left much of an impression on me. The portions were, of course, smaller, but I feel like it was about the same as America.

Taco Bell
I've never seen a Taco Bell in Japan, but I've heard rumors that it exists somewhere. I, personally, do not care about Taco Bell so I've never actively gone looking for it.

Subway
Much to my supreme disappointment, Subway in Japan does not offer the Italian herbs and cheese bread option. You have four bread options: White, wheat, honey wheat and sesame. The menu, in general, is much more bare-boned than what you expect in America's Subways. There are no chips available, either. Still, every now and then it's nice to eat a sandwich.

Pizza Hut
There is only delivery available for Pizza Hut here; no restaurants. However, I loathed the Pizza Huts in America. Their pizzas tasted disgusting. In Japan, much to my delight, Pizza Hut is actually really good. It's expensive (Japan's large is the size of America's medium, and for about double the price), but it's worth having a nice pizza from them every now and then.

McDonalds
The portions are, again, smaller, and the options available on the menu aren't fantastic, but what I love about the McDonalds in Japan is that people actually go into the restaurant and eat there. When was the last time you saw that in America? I only remember people who hadn't mastered the art of eating while driving who were condemned to eating inside. In Japan, though, people go to McDonalds to study, hang out or just relax for a bit. McDonalds has started to realize this, and they are rolling out McDonald's cafes everywhere in a kind of cute attempt to cut into Starbucks' turf.

Coldstones
Japanese people do not like incredibly sweet, rich-tasting desserts. Japanese people were born and raised on fluffy cakes with incredibly light whipped-cream frosting that has only the hint of something sweet to satisfy you with taste. Needless to say, I am not a fan of what Japan has to offer by way of cake. Their ice cream, unfortunately, was beaten into line with their cakes. Coldstones in Japan may look like the ice cream back home, but when you taste it, you will mostly taste ice with a sprinkling of sugar. It's incredibly disappointing.

Dennys
While Americans might think of the word ghetto when they think of Dennys, in Japan, Dennys is just another one of their fast food chains that are disguised as restaurants. They call them "family restaurants." This is when you want to sit down somewhere slightly nice-looking, but you don't want to spend too much money. Dennys in Japan is, therefore, about 2,000 times nicer than the ones in America.
   Other family restaurants in Japan include Big Boy (also not ghetto), Jonathans, Jolly Pasta, Bamiyan and Saizeriya.
    Each family restaurant takes a stab at appearing to specialize in a particular type of food. So Bamiyan, for example, offers attempts at Chinese food while Saizeriya offers attempts at Italian food. From what I can understand of Dennys, they offer attempts at steak. I personally like Jonathans the best because they seem to have given up specializing in anything, and, instead, just offer "Western" food.

Starbucks
To be honest, I was never a fan of Starbucks. I hate coffee, and I hate things that are overpriced. Starbucks and I were doomed to never be friends. Thus, I usually avoid going to Starbucks in Japan. However, when a friend wants to go to Starbucks, then I have no choice but to tag along. The portion-size rule applies, but the prices seem happily immune to the portions, and you'll find yourself paying around $5 for coffee in a cup that looks fit for a child's tea set. Like in America, Starbucks is designed for you to sit there and study or work if you want, but I have heard of people being kicked out of Starbucks for sitting there for too long.

Baskin Robbins
Most Japanese people don't even know they have Baskin Robbins, even though they see it everywhere. Here in Japan, it's known by how many flavors are offered, Thirty-One. So if you go around asking for a Baskin Robbins, you will be met with shrugs and looks of complete bewilderment. Baskin Robbins may not offer such amazing flavors as birthday cake or cookie dough, but I do happen to love Baskin Robbins over Coldstone for trying harder to be faithful to America's version of incredibly rich, sweet ice cream.

Dominos
I loved Dominos in America, and I love it here in Japan, too. It's a take-out place just like in America, and the menu options are, naturally, different (for reasons unknown to everyone, the Japanese prefer corn on their pizzas and think Americans are insane for wanting pepperoni on theirs), but the taste is basically the same. As a tremendous lover of cheese, especially cooked cheese, I am thrilled that Dominos in Japan is pretty faithful to Dominos in America. The prices are, naturally, terrible (for a large that's the size of America's medium, I get to pay around $30), but it's truly nice to have good pizza every now and then.

Goshuin （御朱印）

A goshuin book

Probably like many other visitors to Japan, I love visiting temples and shrines. The architecture is stunning, the peacefulness of the grounds, the occasional siting of a monk or the distant sound of a large bell ringing into the air...all of it creates spectacular pockets of serenity in places in Japan that could, otherwise, simply be busy, overcrowded, and aesthetically boring.

You can find temples and shrines located in random places all over Japan. I've found the red gate entrance to a shrine tucked in shopping alleyways or standing alone in a rice field. They are everywhere.


First, it might be a good idea to mention the difference between a shrine and a temple. I'm by no means an expert, but this is what I have come to understand.

The entrance to a temple

A Temple: They usually have a large gate that appears to look more like a building than an entranceway. Temples are Buddhist holy sites, and you will find monks with their obligatory shaved heads and long robes at these temples. There is usually a statue of Buddhas and bodhishatvas somewhere in the temple grounds as well.

The entrance to a shrine

A Shrine: These are easily spotted because they have (usually) a red, simple, gate called a torii gate, which is two vertical poles supporting two horizontal poles, at the entrance. Shrines are Shinto holy sites, and you will find priests and priestesses wearing white robes with red pants here. Many shrines are dedicated to certain aspects of life, such as helping you pass college entrance exams, give birth safely, or just commute safely to work.




Despite the fact that temples and shrines are religious sites to two completely different religions, Japan doesn't seem concerned about it, and you will often find temples and shrines coexisting next to one another to the point where you need to ask the nearest person working there whether you're still in the shrine or if you're in the temple.



I like both temples and shrines, and every time I visit one, I try to buy a momento of some sort from each place the way people buy little tokens from the great cathedrals in Europe, I suppose.

The problem is that I haven't had a great deal of luck in finding a good momento. I used to collect little embroidery pouches that contain a good luck charm inside (called "omamori"). These charms are Japan's version of the four-leaf clover that you can carry around with you, but they are more specific. One charm can give you good luck in love; another in health or wealth.

I used to love collecting omamori because the name of the shrine or temple was usually embroidered on the back of the pouch.

The problem, however, is that I learned you should return the omamori after a year of having it. I learned that shrines and temple are like libraries, and the omamori are like books. You can only borrow the omamori, but you have to return it after a year or else you're depriving someone else of that "book."



So that took care of that.

Other than omamori, temples and shrines don't really have anything that you can collect, like postcards or keychains or anything like that (some of the major ones do, however). You can get your fortune on a piece of paper, but even those are often left at the temple or shrine, tied to a rope because the receiver didn't like the fortune they got.

For a long while I had to just be satisfied with the pictures I took.



Then, one day at a World Heritage Site temple in Nikko, I spotted an old woman handing a little hard-cover book over to a monk who was manning the sales of omamori there. I watched as the monk took the book, flipped it open to an entirely blank page, took out a calligraphy brush, and began writing kanji on the blank page.

A monk writing kanji

Upon jabbing my (now) husband repeatedly and dragging him closer to the monk writing the kanji, my husband explained to me that the old woman had handed over what is called a "goshuin."

A goshuin, I have learned, is like a passport. When you visit a relatively large temple or shrine, you can get the name of the place written in a blank page of your "passport", followed by the date you were there. They are supposed to be used for more meaningful purposes than just satisfying my shallow need to collect something from places I've been to, but I knew I had to have one.


So, for around 2,000 yen, I bought the hard-cover book at the Nikko temple and had the monk write in mine. The kanji is stunningly beautiful.



I haven't looked back since.

Every time I go anywhere that I think might have a nice temple or shrine, I make sure to take that little hard-cover book with me. I've got entries from temples and shrines ranging from Kamakura to Aomori. My dream is to one day go back to Kyoto and just go crazy collecting them.

The inside of a goshuin book

If you want to do this, here's how:
1.First, you need to learn how to say the word properly. It is pronounced: "Goh-shu-een", with the emphasis on the second syllable.

2. Next, you need the hard-cover book. These are usually available at the major temples and shrines in Japan, so first you need to go to a huge tourist destination shrine or temple and get one for around 2,000 yen. Just ask at any of the gift shops by saying, "Goshuin?" and look hopeful. Sometimes the hard-cover books are on display, so point at it.

3. Next, I highly recommend you make your life easier by trying to memorize what the kanji for "goshuin" looks like, because if the shrine or temple offers it, you will see signs for it near the entrance, or at the places selling the omamori. The kanji is 御朱印. Do whatever you can to memorize this.

4. If you have no aptitude for memorizing kanji, then you'll have to ask the people manning the places selling the omamori and other items. Show them your hard-cover book, and say "goshuin?" with a hopeful look on your face. Hopefully, they will point you to where you can get it done if you aren't in the right place.

5. If you're at the right place, or if you have memorized the kanji and have found the right place, then open the hard-cover book to a blank page and say, "Goshuin kudasai." (kudasai is pronounced: kuu-dah-si, with the emphasis on the first syllable and the last "i" being a hard "i" like in "ice.")

6. Wait as the person there writes in the book. It's not always a monk or a priest, just to warn you. I've had old ladies working at the temple or shrine randomly do it. Also, at some of the busier temples or shrines, you will be given a number while your book is set down in a line of other books, in which case just wait around that general area as best you can (depending on how busy it is) and wait to get your book back. It can take a few minutes for the person there to get to your book.

7. Get your book back and pay the standard fee of 300 yen. Say thank you by saying, "Arigatougozaimasu" (Ah-ree-gah-toh-goh-za-ee-mahs).



And voila, you have yourself a truly fantastic passport collection.

The Foreigners

At the science museum in Odaiba, Tokyo

It's been too long since I've written in here. Sorry about that.

Today, I'd like to write about the types of foreigners who come to live in Japan for a few months or more. I have found that, during my time of being here, they kind of break down neatly into a few categories.

(Note: Of course these types don't categorize absolutely everyone. Some people are also a mash-up of these types.)


The Players: These are foreigners who come to Japan on a sort of mental vacation from their lives back home. They think they can do whatever they want in Japan with little consequence because Japanese people don't outright express their displeasure, allowing these foreigners to trash things, not pay taxes, annoy their neighbors, and generally make the lives of anyone near them miserable. They then skip merrily back to their country as if they've just spent a nice, long vacation in Vegas.
            Their impact: It is because of these types of foreigners that many Japanese people distrust and outright hate foreigners. Japanese people have come to equate foreigners with horrible people thanks to these foreigners. Thanks to these foreigners, the rest of us have to suffer. A lot.



The Explorers: These are foreigners who come to Japan because it happens to be located far away from home, and it's in Asia, the area of the globe that houses so many other exotic locations. These are foreigners who come here to eat the raw squid just to say they did; the foreigners who like to brag about the knife fight they were in while traveling around a nearby Asian country, and the foreigners who disapprove of Japan for being "too tame."
          Their impact: Thanks to these foreigners, some Japanese people have come to believe that not all foreigner people are bad; some will actually eat their food. I happen to love talking to these types of foreigners because they usually have some interesting stories to share.



The Geeks: These are the most prevalent type of foreigners in Japan. These are the foreigners who watched a ton of anime in their home country, fell under the impression that Japan is just like what it is in the anime they watched or comic books they read, and come here full of dreams of a utopia here on Earth. They wander a section of Tokyo called Akihabara in awe. The problem is that they then realize that even in Japan, geeks are part of the fringe society that isn't well thought of, and they feel as alienated as they did back home. They usually go home disappointed and disillusioned.
          Their impact: They can be annoying when they first land in Japan. These are usually the geeks who devoted years of their lives to studying the most useless parts of the Japanese language, and they love to show off their Japanese skills at every moment possible to anyone who is nearby to listen. It has all the feel of your relatives forcing you to sit through home movies.



The Soul-Searchers: These are foreigners who come to live in Japan because they feel lost at home, and they hope that a change of scenery will help them find their way again. They're the ones who tend to fall into Buddhism or Shintoism while they're here.
           Their impact: These are my favorite type of foreigners living in Japan, because they tend to be open-minded and tolerant of the differences in culture. They seem the most reflective of the types, and the most agreeable to hang out with. If you want to go try something crazy, these people will go with you.



The Opportunists: These are the foreigners who see job opportunities in Japan and decide that, with the economy being terrible at home, they could stand a few years abroad to save up some money, then take that money back home with them.
          Their impact: These are the foreigners who really, really didn't think things through when they came here, and they tend to suffer the most for it. It is no small thing to leave everything you know and go live in a place that happens to believe their way of life is correct and yours is not, and money doesn't provide enough of an incentive to stay here and continue suffering the culture shock that crashes down on you like a building collapsing. Right before they go home, these foreigners openly express their hatred of Japan and all things Japanese to any foreigner within earshot, effectively spreading their little rain cloud around to anyone unfortunate enough to be nearby.



The Roots-Searchers: These are foreigners who have at least some trace of Japanese heritage in them, and they came to Japan to learn more about that.
          Their impact: I also love hanging out with these people because they tend to be kind, tolerant and open-minded about Japanese culture along with being as shocked as the other foreigners by aspects of the culture. Sometimes they hold a superior attitude to other foreigners, but many times they seem frustrated by either being too accepted by Japanese people or not accepted enough, depending on just how much Japanese blood runs in them and how good their Japanese is.



The Randomists: These are foreigners who came to live in Japan on a whim. Maybe they just happened to study Japanese in college because it was the only class open; maybe they just pointed on a map with their eyes closed, and their finger fell on Japan. They seem unimpressed by just about everything.
            Their impact: They can be fun to be around, but any awe you may find about something will probably fall flat on them. If they didn't care enough to think through living in Japan in great detail, then they won't be bothered to think about much of anything too deeply.

Logic vs. Commute

Commuters wait for their train

I hate commuting with the same passion that workers the world over understand. We are all united in this underlying frustration that is wasting so much energy trying to get to a place we don't even particularly want to go to, especially at such an ungodly hour in the morning. 

The longer I've been commuting in Japan, around Tokyo, the more I've come to long for the commutes that most Americans suffer through. Admittedly, I've never actually commuted to work in America, but the idea sounds more and more appealing as the days roll past.

While Americans are forced to sit in their adjustable, air conditioned cars (complete with comfortable seats, a radio and a music player), Japanese people are crammed into trains. I don't mean that as hyperbole; Japanese people are crammed into trains. Every morning I am slammed into a metal railing that prevents me from falling into the lap of the person who was lucky enough to grab a seat beside me. You know immediately who has been working so hard that they haven't had time to shower. 

When you finally get to the final station, a torrent is unleashed from the train, and I've watched several bewildered tourists and backpackers flung aside in its wake. Everyone is either flat-out running to make the next train or carelessly clawing, jabbing and stepping on your feet to get ahead of the onslaught. 

When I finally reach my destination train station, I have to weave and dart past people, literally fighting for enough space to get up the stairs and to the ticketing counters so I can just leave the station. 

And finally, finally, I'm outside in real air, able to breathe without hitting anyone if I don't stretch my arms out too far. 

Then I reach the bus stop, and the source of my current problem: 

As you can hopefully see from this map I created, the bus stop for the bus I need to ride is located in a corner, meaning that people (the blue dots) line up in a kind of horseshoe to get on the bus. I don't care if I'm within that horseshoe, but when I'm not (see the red dot), then the problem arises. 

Do I follow that horseshoe shape to get on the bus? Or do I do what the diagram above suggests and just wait for all of the people in front of me to get on the bus, and then go directly on the bus from where I'm standing? 

Logic says I should wait. 

The problem is that I can feel the impatience of the commuters behind me, their bodies shifting anxiously, as if the bus will leave without them. 

But my God I hate doing illogical things, and following that horsehoe shape is a complete waste of time. 

So I wait and shoulder the stress of the people behind me, hoping they can realize I'm being logical. 

Sometimes when I'm within the shape of the horseshoe, and I look back at whoever is standing in that red dot position, I see some people waiting there like I do. I like to think I'm starting a trend. 

And then yesterday, I was in the dreaded red dot position, and I waited, pretending to fiddle with my Smartphone in order to give me something to do. 

The person behind me tapped my shoulder. 

I looked at the bespectacled man, bewildered. 

"Are you in line? Mind if I go ahead?" he asked.

"Um, sure," I said. 

So I stood there, and he went past me to follow the horseshoe shape. 

The people behind him followed him. 

I was completely flabbergasted as I stood there, watching them all follow that horseshoe shape.

Sometimes I've watched little kids run up to their parents, tag their parent's leg, and then run off in the opposite direction. Back and forth they go like little boomerangs, wildly excited by the repetitive game. 

I felt like that parent, waiting there while my kids made a pointless detour to get on the bus. 

And then I waited until I spotted the bespectacled man. 

I cut in behind him and got on the bus. I wanted him to at least feel like he'd accomplished something, I guess.  

How can people be so ingrained in the commute pattern that they don't see how illogical some of their actions are? Exactly how robotic are people anyway? 

The Dentist

At the dentist's

Last Monday I felt pain in the lower-left part of my mouth. Like the times before when some part of me has hurt, I ignored it for a couple of days.

By Wednesday, however, the pain was such that I couldn't chew anything on the left side of my mouth. Touching my left lower cheek brought excruciating pain.

Unlike many people in this world, I do not hate going to the dentists. Of course I don't treasure the experience, but I don't find excuses not to go.

So when I felt this pain, and it didn't get any better, I saw my local dentist.

Since most Japanese people don't get out of work until around 8pm, and most doctor's offices close at around 5pm, the waiting room was empty when I walked in at 3pm.

The receptionist took one look at me and seemed to hold her breath while keeping her eyes steady on me as I took my shoes off at the door and slipped into the slippers every doctor's office in Japan forces its patients to wear for reasons beyond my comprehension.

I've started to enjoy waiting out the agony doctor's office receptionists experience when they see me walk in through the door. Every single time I get the stare of, "Oh dear God I last took English in high school and I don't remember anything except 'hello.' What do I do? Does she speak Japanese? She doesn't look like she speaks a word of Japanese. What do I do?"

I like waiting until the last minute to speak to them, because they always drive me crazy after they find out I can speak Japanese.

This receptionist at the dentist's office was pretty loud and straightforward about her relief that I could, in fact, speak enough Japanese to communicate with her.

"I saw you come in through the door and I panicked," she said. "I'm so glad you can speak Japanese. I'm so shocked you can speak Japanese!"

Japan is not a place for any non-Japanese-looking person hoping to blend in with the background. When all I wanted to do was sit down in the waiting room and nurse my aching mouth, I stood there answering the receptionist's questions about my Japanese ability while the nurses flooded in behind the receptionist to take a look at the foreigner.

Finally I got to sit down and battle the form, naturally written all in Japanese. It's one thing to feel like you've got a good handle on written Japanese; it's quite another to fill out a doctor's form.

While I tackled the form, an old man shuffled through the main door. Out of the corner of my eye I watched him wordlessly move my shoes (still at the entrance to the place) so they were pointing toward the door, then he did the same for his own. He exchanged a few brief words with the receptionist and then sat down far away from me.

The receptionist clicked on the TV just in time for a 15 minute program dedicated to radio exercises for the elderly. I watched as they had three perpetually smiling women do basic stretches, one of them in a chair for, as the narrator said, "those of you who can't stand." On and on the stretching and lunges went while a middle-aged woman plugged away a chipper song on a nearby grand piano.

As the station slipped into the news, I handed in my form to the dentist's receptionist and waited. An elderly woman battled with the step up you have to take from the entrance of the place to the actual waiting area, and then she sat down in between the old man and me.

One of the nurses came out and looked at me.

"For how long can you afford to be here today?"

"Um...until four."

I had no idea why she wanted to know that.

"Ok, I'm sorry, but we'll have them go ahead of you and then have you come in."

No explanation of why, but I sat there struggling to comprehend the news while the old man and woman were looked at before me.

Finally it was my turn.

The dentist, an elderly man, took one look at a cap I have on a tooth in my lower left jaw and said, "We need an X-ray."

After the X-ray, I watched the nurse put the little photo of my teeth on a light board near the chair they had me at, and everything looked fine to me. Then the dentist looked at it.

He leaned forward toward the light board, making noises of shock and disapproval.

"Well, I can give you something for the pain," he said, "and I can shave down the capped tooth, but if the pain doesn't stop, I'll have to take out the _____________."

The joys of Japanese. Of course I don't understand the important part. I only knew he wasn't suggesting I have my tooth taken out. That was it.

So while my mind wildly tried to fill in the blank in the world's worst version of ad libs, the dentist went on to explain why whatever it was that needed to be taken out had to be taken out, but why he would only do it as a last resort.

He then went on to shave down my tooth, which was not a fun experience, and then I was free to go. If the pain didn't recede, then I would need to come back.

I slipped into my shoes, pointing toward the door, and promised I'd call if the pain was still there in a few days.

The Battle to Study Rages On

Tokyo Tower

I've got a little over a month left until my next round with the JLPT Level One begins. I think I'm starting to go a little bit crazy studying, too.

Currently, I'm studying 559 words, and that number dramatically increases with each passing week. Add to that the 80+ grammar points I need to know like the back of my hand and the fact that only studying 559 words isn't going to anywhere near cut it, and I would dare say I am doomed yet again.

I should also be listening to more news in Japanese and reading fascinating essays that range from one person's views on traffic control in Japan to the ways in which Japanese people have communicated over the centuries.

I think I'm starting to annoy anyone near me who speaks Japanese.

The minute they say a word I'm studying or utter a grammar point, I will politely trample over their speaking to declare, "Hey, I'm studying that right now!" This is initially met with shock and a slow nod of the head, but as time passes and I continue to interject with this meaningless comment, the nods become more pronounced, as if I'm a kid who's just spotted an airplane flying overhead.

I'm tired of studying. For the past two years I've been studying. I'd like to stop and take a break.

Instead, I'm about to look up what 墓地 means in English and add that to my list of 559 vocabulary words. That, and about 30 other words.

The Written Languages of Japan

Someone's wish written on a wooden tablet and put up at a shrine

The Foreign Service Institute published a list of easy, moderate and difficult languages to learn as a second language, assuming English is your native language.

Among the easy languages are: Spanish, Dutch, and Norwegian.

Moderate languages include: Russian, Hebrew and Spanish.



The institute lists only four languages in their difficult category. They are:

Arabic, Chinese, Korean.

Oh, and Japanese.




Japanese is actually fairly easy to speak because it lacks many, many sounds that can be found in English. For example, the "th" sound in "that" or the "wo" sound in "woman."
 They also blended together the "l" and "r" sound into one sound, making it nearly impossible for a native Japanese speaker to tell the difference between "right" and "light."



The grammar of Japanese is a little tricky, however, because the word order is a little bit off compared to English.

For example, in English we say, "I threw the ball." In Japanese it would be, "[I] ball threw."

I put the subject of "I" in brackets because a lot of times when you speak in Japanese, you don't need to put a subject in your sentence. Much to the delight of non-native Japanese speakers, the subject of a sentence is often implied without being actually said.



But all of this is not what makes Japanese one of the most difficult languages to master, I think.

That difficulty comes from the fact that the Japanese can, at any time, choose to write in one of three writing systems.



Three.



We English speakers have exactly one writing system, and that is the alphabet. For the record, the Japanese also learn the alphabet, just in case three writing systems wasn't challenging enough for them to master.


In first grade in Japan, children first learn the writing system of hiragana. Hiragana is a phonetic writing system, which means that when you see あ, for example, you know to say "a" (as in "apology")



In second grade, children learn the second writing system, which is katakana. Katakana is phonetic like hiragana, but it is often used for words that aren't native to Japan. 

So for words like "escalator", rather than make up their own new word for it, the Japanese just associated katakana to that English word to get エスカレーター. When you pronounce this quickly enough, you can get "esukureta," which is as close to "escalator" as you can get in Japanese.




The last, and the greatest challenge, is Chinese characters, which Japan calls kanji. Japanese people start to learn kanji in first grade right alongside learning hiragana, and they never stop learning kanji. If I remember correctly, the average Japanese person must know around 20,000 kanji in order to read a newspaper.

A sign all in kanji at a shrine

Kanji are not phonetic; they are symbolic. Think hieroglyphics.

The kanji for "rain", for example, is 雨.

I, for one, look at this kanji and see a window with rain falling outside of it. It makes some sort of sense for me. But the Japanese know to look at this word and know that it's the symbol for rain.

Now comes the question of how to say it, which is an absolute joy to figure out for all non-native Japanese speakers.


The Japanese assigned hiragana to each kanji. So when you look at 雨, the hiragana for it is, あめ.

If you look above in this entry, you'll see that あ means I say "a."
め means that I say "may."
Therefore, the Japanese for "rain" is "amay." That is what you say aloud when you see the symbol for rain.



The problem is that many, many, many kanji don't just have one way of saying it.

How to say a kanji can entirely depend on where it is placed amid a group of kanji, or it can depend on what other kanji it's paired with in order to make up new words.


For example, with 雨, if you shove the kanji for "umbrella" after it, you get　雨傘. This then changes how you say "rain." It becomes, for some lovely reason, "amah."




Perhaps my favorite kanji is 明. You may never know how to say this kanji correctly because there are four different ways to say it just when it's by itself. When it's combined with other kanji, God help you.



Don't even get me started on how to write kanji.

Standardized Language Tests

My Japanese textbooks

Every language has a standardized test to help you, and potential employers, determine how well you can live using that language.

For English, there is the TOEIC, the TOEFL (mainly used for helping you get into college in English), and a few others you can learn about here, if you're curious.


For Japanese, you have the gold-standard Japanese Language Proficiency Test (JLPT), which is called the Nihongo Nouryoku Shiken (日本語能力試験) in Japanese.


The JLPT currently has five levels. The fifth level is the easiest, meaning if you passed it then you probably studied Japanese for a year. Passing the first level means you can go to college in Japanese.

I have been trying to pass the JLPT Level One for over a year now, and the test is excruciatingly difficult for me.

To make matters worse, even if I were to pass the Level One exam, that doesn't make me anywhere near Expert of Japanese.

There's the J-Test, for example, which is another standardized test that is lesser known, but harder. This test goes from levels A-F, with Level F being the easiest. Pass Level A and you are at the same level as an interpreter.



The problem with studying a language is that you start out believing that because what you say is getting through to the other person, you are amazing at the language. It gives you unwarranted confidence, which is what you need as incentive to study the language more.


However, the more you study the language, the more you realize just how much you don't know and just how happily ignorant you were of that when the native speaker was nodding at what you said with a slightly puzzled look to their smile.


The JLPT is on July 7th, and because I am going to be devoting my life to studying for it (since I really don't want to have to take it ever again after this), I am going to try to devote the following entries to sharing some Japanese with you.

You never know, it could give you the unwarranted confidence needed to study the labyrinth that is Japanese.

Myth: All Japanese People are Geeks

A Gundam on display in Odaiba

I think it is a testament to this myth that many people I know who are studying Japanese are also madly in love with Japanese comics, anime and video games. Many of them have the air of an aspiring computer programmer as they talk excitedly about memorizing 500 kanji the night before.



My grandmother visited Japan before I did, and anytime anyone brings up Japan, the first anecdote she will present is this, almost verbatim every time:

"When I rode the train in Tokyo, there was a gentleman in a business suit standing next to me, and he was reading a comic book just right there in the middle of the train. And it was a comic book with naked women in it!"

That is my grandmother's lasting impression of Japan.



Now while I think comic books here are socially tolerated better than in America, it does not mean that all of Japan is a haven for geeks to flock to.

Geeks in Japan are a fringe society just like in other countries. Their largest haven is a section of Tokyo called Akihabara. To call Akihabara a representation of Japan is like saying that Dallas, or any other city, represents all of America.

I have a Japanese friend who rolls her eyes and shakes her head sadly whenever she hears anyone say they've been to Japan if they've only been to Akihabara. It's like people who say they've gone to America because they've gone to Disney World.

Akihabara is its own unique little world crammed into the northeast section of Tokyo. You can find all things geeky there: From electrical parts to anything imaginable for sale to entire stores devoted to selling rare anime items. It's like a 24/7 anime convention, I think.





Japanese people are interested in everything else the rest of the world might find interesting. There are many, many Japanese people who can't name the characters to One Piece or Naruto any better than a non-geek in America can.


Yes, you will find comics and other geeky things for sale in other parts of Japan, but for the most part you will find that Japan is not as geek-friendly as you might suspect, or hope.

Myth: Japanese People Love to Work

People waiting in the early morning rush to work

Perhaps many of you out there have heard of how Japanese people work 14 hours a day, and how the idea of a vacation is to camp out at the office. How they love to throw back a few beers with their boss after their 14 hours of work, and then head over to karaoke until dawn.

Maybe you've heard about how convenience stores sell business shirts and ties for those who couldn't make the last train home. Maybe you've seen articles like this one that talk about how Japanese people are known to die from overwork.

There is the belief that the Japanese still uphold all samurai-like customs, making it an honor to serve their employer until their death.

I obviously can't speak for the entire nation of Japan, but I can speak about what I've heard and experienced while I've been here.



What I have discovered is that Japanese people hate to work. They hate Monday mornings as much as anyone else in the world does. They complain to me about how much they hate having to work. I'm not just talking about the younger generations; I'm talking about everyone. (Maybe they complain to me because they figure I won't go tell their boss.)

A lot of Japanese people I've talked to have faked sick at least once since they began working.

One guy said, "The best excuse you can say is that your eyes hurt. There's no proof that what you're saying is true so you just have to go to the optometrist, they call it stress and give you eye drops, and you get the day off."



Time after work is as sacred to them as it is to anyone else in the world, and they all loathe having to spend that time with their co-workers and bosses at bars and karaoke joints. The problem is, they say, that if they don't go then they'll look like they're not a team player. It's a war, and if you aren't showing your loyalty to your team then you will be cut.

They are the unwilling recruits; the soldiers who roll their eyes and sigh heavily behind their commander's backs.


The problem is that Japan doesn't seem to know how to do it any other way. Either that or companies just don't want to shell out the money for things like overtime and extra workers. The word "exploitation" comes to mind.


I have a friend working in a big corporation in Japan who explained the system of working in Japan as this:

"What the company does is overwork you to the point where you don't care about paying the rent anymore; you want to quit. So then the company says to you, 'Oh, you're working so hard. Why not take a few months off?' So you get those few months off to put back together your sanity, and then they overwork you to the break of insanity again. It just goes on and on like that until you can hopefully retire."

Companies in Japan don't care if you have a family waiting for you at home; they don't care if you wanted to have at least a hobby outside of work: If you aren't working those 14 hours then you aren't showing how badly you want to be an employee there, let alone get a raise. And God help you should you get fired.

Whacky Japan

A warning found at Kamakura 

For years and years I've been reading news sites and, when in America, sometimes watching the news, and around 99 percent of the time Japan is covered in the news, it's because Japan has done some crazy, outlandish thing that merits news coverage.



Yes, Japan has lots of inexplicably strange things. But I would argue that every culture has really strange elements to it. I have been looked at strangely by people from other countries for eating fruit roll-up, for example ("It looks like you're eating plastic. Why would you eat that?").



Since I feel that there are too many web sites devoted to the craziness of Japanese culture, and too much of the news covers only the stranger aspects, I am going to try and cover what makes Japan "normal" in the following entries.



If you feel the need to tell me about some new crazy thing someone in Japan did, I will do my best to counter it with some example of a crazy thing an American has done that made the news.

Tips to Avoid Culture Shock

A temple in Nikko

When I was in sixth grade I did a home-stay in France for three weeks without speaking a word of French beyond, "Merci."

I walked away from that experience with the knowledge that the entire world beyond my house does not, in fact, live like I do. I wanted to see more.

Since then I have studied in England for a year, lived in a Welsh home for two weeks, traveled to Belgium, the Netherlands, Germany, Ireland and other places in France. I also studied in Japan for four months before coming to live here.

All of these experiences traveling have taught me a lot about culture shock, as well as how to prevent it. Culture shock varies per person, just as a warning, so these aren't going to work for everyone. These are what worked for me.

Hayama

1. This is not your home. 
    Remember when you first stayed over at someone's house? You probably realized that your friend's parents don't make macaroni and cheese like your parents do, or that they don't even believe in having a dinner that comes out of a box.
    Maybe you started to notice other things, and proceeded to point them out to the parents of your friend, or to your friend. "That's not how we do things in my house." Your host would then reach a breaking point and retaliate with, "Well, this isn't your home."
    This is true when you are going to a different country. You will find that no matter where you go, how much you think the culture is like yours, it is not. This isn't where you grew up; this isn't the only thing you know.
    If you go into the experience with this in mind, I think you'll be less shocked when you realize that you aren't in your home country anymore.

A summer festival in Tokyo

2. Learn the language. 
   If you are going to a country where they don't speak your native language, then at least a year before you go try your best to take an intensive language course (a course with lessons at least three times a week).
   There are many companies in Japan, for example, that promise you that you don't need to know Japanese to get by, and they are somewhat right, but "getting by" and "living" are completely different things. There are only so many times you feel like calling up your company because you want to mail a package home or go visit the local doctor.
   There are also all the social interactions you will be missing out on, and you won't be able to watch most of their TV programs or movies. Not speaking the language is throwing a huge wall up between you and everyone else around you, which will, naturally, make you feel isolated.
   Day-to-day chores will also weigh heavily on you and stress you out if you don't know how to speak the language, and you won't feel connected to the culture without knowing the language, so get cracking on it.

Ebisu Garden Place

3. There is no perfect country. 
    A lot of people seem to come to Japan with the idea that this is some sort of utopia, and then they live here for a few months (more or less) before disillusionment sets in and they have to go home. Some Japanese people feel this when they go to France, too, apparently. They watch movies about Paris and think it's this romantic utopia, and then they go there and are harassed by rude waiters and Parisians, in general, and come back in tears.
    Every single country on this earth is full of problems. There is no country that is "the best country on earth." Please realize this and save yourself the heartbreak.

A cafe in Nikko

4. Before going, immerse yourself in the culture
    Before you go on your trip, research the local dishes of the country you're going to, and start eating them while you're still at home. Learn how to make them, learn how to enjoy them. Do this often and as soon as you can for as long as you can, because food is the bridge connecting you to feelings of home. If you can add on to your own bridge with food from the country you're about to go to, you will already feel connected to the country before you even leave.
    Watch TV programs from the country; watch their movies. Learn the names of the actors and actresses and learn their faces. When I first flew into Kansai International Airport everything was overwhelmingly different until I saw an ad featuring a Japanese actor I knew, and loved. Then things didn't feel so scary anymore. In Japan, they use their actors and actresses to advertise everything, and it's nice to be surrounded by familiar faces on the trains and when walking down the street.
    Listen to their music. A lot. Ever notice yourself humming along to a song while in the supermarket? That would be because you know that song. Other countries do the same thing, and you will feel right at home humming along to a Japanese song in a supermarket in Tokyo.

Yokohama

5. Make friends 
    Try to make friends from the country before you go or while you are there. At some point while you are in your country, you may explode at the country and say that they are all terrible, terrible people. To counter this outburst will be that friend you have. It completely quiets down your illogical outburst.
    I have found that if you make friends with only other foreigners, you will all sit around and talk about how different the country is from your home country every single time you meet. The more you sit around talking about the differences, the larger those differences will feel and the more you will feel like going back to your home country. Don't do this.
    Please note: It's important to make friends with people because you want to be friends rather than, "I want a local friend." Don't ever make friends for superficial reasons like that. Your goal is to set up your own little community in the new country, and that means making real friends.

Yokohama Summer Festival Fireworks

6. Hunt down food from your country 
   At some point you will crave food from your home country, and I say embrace it. Learn where you can get your monthly fix of tacos or good spaghetti and take comfort in the knowledge that it's available to you. Nothing like some comfort food every now and then.

Shinjuku Gyouen Park

7. Stay in touch with world news and news in your new country 
   It always helps to know what's going on around you, whether it's the latest election in your new country or the latest civil war happening abroad. Feeling ignorant leads to feeling scared, so be informed.







 

 

Why I Came to Live in Japan

Cherry blossoms in Kyoto

To start a post off with a huge generalization, when most American girls dream of living abroad, they think of Italy or France. If they feel like they want to be adventurous then maybe somewhere in Africa or India.

In the eyes of America, Japan is known not as a land of beauty and wonder but of incredibly strange TV shows and commercials. It's a place where absolutely nothing makes sense, and that absurdity is what makes Americans roll their eyes at any person (usually a geek and male) who wants to live in Japan.

Therefore, anytime I meet another person in Japan, I am always asked, "What made you decide to live here?" I'm always asked with genuine curiosity; as if I wasn't even aware that I'm in Japan rather than some trendy part of Paris.

So here is the shortened version of how this all came to be.

For starters, I am a geek. I grew up playing video games such as Chrono Trigger and Legend of Zelda. My brother and I played them religiously, or I would watch my brother play them religiously.

I also was a huge, huge fan of anime. Anime, for those of you who may not know, is Japanese animation. Not cartoons like what Disney can churn out for their TV shows, but shows with remarkable plotlines (in my eyes) and fantastic beauty in the simplicity of the drawings. Not to mention a lot of them are funny.

I stumbled across one such anime, Sailor Moon, on Cartoon Network one day. I hated that show, but I also couldn't stop watching it. Hate turned into worshipful fandom when I saw the last episode of the first season. The show made me want to watch more shows just like it.

Through the help of a local video store, I watched other anime, and there was a store in the local mall that sold anime goods and manga (comic books). I was soon reading manga and watching anime every day, and I had quickly realized that the original language all of this was in was Japanese.

The more I heard Japanese, the more I liked it. Japanese has a wonderful array of sound combinations and beats to it that English will never understand. I fell in love with the language.

By the time college hit I knew I wanted to actually learn Japanese. So I went to a university where I could study it as a minor.

My room-mate at university turned out to be the next step in my transition to Japan; a Japanese girl doing an exchange program with my university. She became one of my best friends, and she introduced me to food, culture, TV programs and everything else Japan had to offer.

Through the course of my three years studying at that university, my life slowly seemed blend into a Japanese life thanks to my room-mate. A sort of balance emerged where I would be saturated with just enough Japanese culture that I could absorb it, but not enough that I was terrified by it's unfamiliarity.

My last semester of college, I went to Kyoto for four months to study Japanese and to see if I wanted to live in Japan.

I have traveled a decent amount in my life, and I lived in England for a year. I love England, but by the end of the academic year I could feel the differences between American and British culture digging under my skin. In Japan, though, I haven't felt that. I feel like I can be more myself here than in America. That I'm more at home here than in America. That's the best way to describe how I feel about being here.

It was a fantastic, and fantastically short, four months in Kyoto, but I soon found a way back to Japan in 2009, and I've been here ever since.

All I know is that as soon as I tell people I've been here since 2009, the next thing I always say is, "And I want to be here for as long as possible."

Starting out...

Tokyo Tower

Japan isn't a perfect country, not even to someone like me who wants to live here indefinitely. Like every country on earth, Japan has staggering problems that may never be solved. 

Examples include Japan's almost pathetic understanding of non-Japanese people, women's rights in all areas of society, age-based hierarchy at work, the amount of hours one is expected to work per day, and how no one sees a reason to complain about anything outright. 

There are times when I am left shaking my head and wondering why I ever thought I'd want to live in such a country. It has so many problems, and it isn't a country designed to welcome foreigners who want to live here. 

Here is the strange thing about it, though: This is the first country where I felt like I was home.

In a country notorious for shunning foreigners, I felt like I belonged. It felt like destiny had called me to this country, and I am trying to stay here as long as possible. 

In this blog I will try to write about what it's like to live in Japan, however that may turn out. I am only one person so this is, by no means, an accurate portrayal of Japan. It's just what I experience and how I feel about what I experience. 

I hope you enjoy reading.