Home at Last

WEDNESDAY, JULY 28

I was awakened by my roommates, again, luckily, though, as my alarm didn't go off. I have no idea why. Luckily, it was only 6:15 and I had time to quickly throw on my clothes from the night before, stuff my pajamas into a bag and rush down to breakfast. They had an early breakfast open for those of us with early departures (many were leaving around 9am) and it took many of us longer than it should have to find.

Was interrupted in my typing. More on that later.

I had to check out of my hotel room before leaving. One of my housemates made several calls with a calling card, which we actually get charged international rates for. I should have noted how much that cost, because it wasn't pretty. Not to mention, she also paid for the calling card. Someone else, I don't know who, apparently also used the mini-bar. Idiot, those things are expensive! It wasn't me, so I didn't get charged for either. I also had to turn in my name tag before leaving, which had hung permanently around my neck the entire orientation. To get into any meal, you had to wear it. I don't know what's with Japan and name tags, but they insisted on having them back in Chicago, too.

The bus ride out of Tokyo was fairly uneventful. We were lucky in that we could wear casual clothes as we'd have time to change later. Many JETs had to travel in full business attire as they would be meeting their supervisors (and possibly all other teachers, the mayor, etc.) immediately after getting of the plane/train, etc. I enjoyed being casually dressed at breakfast, among everything trying to keep themselves clean, although I felt terribly under-dressed, like a slacker. It was early morning, but the city was already abuzz. One of the Shiga JETs worked at Disney World for a while and now would like to visit Tokyo Disney. I told her I'm all in.

At the train station, we unloaded and wound, a big train of white (and two black) people with roller bags through the station and probably attracting a lot of unexpressed attention. Finally, we were told to place our bags up against a wall, and that we were free to wander around and someone would be near them to watch them. Most of us, having grown up being told that someone could steal your wallet practically from inside your suitcase, while you walked, without you noticing in major train stations stared. We weren't used to this level of security in a city as big as Tokyo. But, to their credit, all was well. At one point, I looked at Junior, who is a tall, elegant black man that I'd chatted with a bit and was very, very friendly and commented, knowing he'd appreciate it, “This is the first time I've been a minority.” His face lit it, and he turned to all the people around us, crying “See! See! Now you know what it's like!” in a joking manner. Then he turned back to me and said, “and now I'm a super-minority.” It's true that, aside from the two black JETs with us, I hadn't seen a single other black person since orientation. (And haven't since.)

We wandered, again, as big, conspicuous groups to little convenience stores in the station to buy lunch for the ride. Many people bought Bento (Japanese lunch boxes) while a group of us wandered next door to a bakery. I happened to overhear a lovely conversation about how difficult it was to be in Japan and how vegetarians are crazy to attempt it between a few of my fellow JETs. Not 5 minutes later, I realize that one of them speaks Japanese quite well, and I ask her to help me translate the labels on the bread goods for vegetarian ones. Perhaps out of pity inspired by the contemplation of the earlier conversation, she hopped to it, and I left with a bread and cheese roll and a sugar and butter roll.

This was my first time on a shinkonsen, or bullet train. They travel up to 200 miles an hour, although I promise it didn't feel that fast. In fact, most of the way though the ride, I found out that this particular segment IS the fastest in all of Japan. We passed mount fuji, barely visible in the distance, but by the time someone pointed it out, it was already hidden behind other mountains and man-made constructions. So, sadly, my first view of Mount Fuji will have to wait.

We traveled into Kyoto, and took a smaller, local train to Otsu, the capital of Shiga Prefecture. On the platform while waiting for the train, I noticed a woman in a kimono. I geeked out with excitement, as it was my first kimono in Japan. On the train, I noticed a younger girl, about my age, I'd guess, although it's really, really hard to tell, dressed up with make-up, highlighted hair (many Japanese have brown hair, even adults), and a classy hat. As part of her obviously stylish attire, she was wearing moccasins, complete with fringe. I was amused.

In Otsu, we were met by a car, that took our luggage for us, while we walked the mile to the official building. Please remember that while I was doing all my running around, I also had my purse (jam packed full of electronics), my computer bag (which also had electronics and my laptop stand, from Lonn) which weighed a ridiculous amount, and my roller bag that, while it rolled, was also, not exaggerating, at least 50 pounds. It was 43 in Chicago, before I added books to it. Oh, and I had a little cloth bag with pajamas and a few other books that couldn't fit into my roller. I was very grateful for the car, although the older JETs griped that they had to haul their own stuff and it wasn't initiation if we were spoiled. With the heat and the oncoming rain, I was grateful. Really, Japan would be so much more lovely if it weren't so hot and humid.

At the building, whatever it was it was official, we were separated girls and boys and changed into our business clothes. Many of us girls trooped off to the bathrooms for one last trip before climbing into nylons (I said H--- No, not in this heat and wore pants.) There, there were two squat toilets and one sit toilet. While I'm aware that I'll probably use a squat toilet in Japan frequently, I wasn't going to learn how wearing my nice suit right before meeting my new coworkers. I waited patiently. While everyone else was occupied, I cupped my hands and drank water out of the sink. Japan, despite the outrageous heat, has no water fountains (or bubblers, or drinking fountains) anywhere. I was melting. I wasn't quite sure if the water was okay for drinking but I'm not dead yet, so I have no regrets. Also, until I'm proved otherwise, I'm going to assume I have my father's hearty stomach. I also hadn't worn make-up (unlike most of the other girls) so I happily splashed water on my face.)

I had been told that your first meeting, wear a suit and dress to the nines. I was shocked that some girls put on dresses and sweaters and one wore a bright pink, with beads, frumpy sweater-shirt. She's also been quite talkative and overly expressive to the point of being annoying. I wore my suit and even had one of the other JETs tell me that it looked fantastic on me. I was charmed, but also probably the most formally dressed girl. I'm okay with that.

We practiced our self-introductions one last time. Our self-introduction, we were told, had to be in Japanese, regardless of our ability. It was rather frightening. While it was recommended that we memorize them, many of us held books with a basic outline and the key phrases. It was only a few sentences, theoretically. A few decided to make there's more elaborate, which, in my opinion, especially when they derivated from the script, was showy. I was quite nervous leading up to them calling my name and trying to remember when to bow. I noticed one teacher, who somehow stood out from the rest. She eventually gave me a little wave, identifying herself as the one coming for me. It was most welcome. I stumbled over my speech, but was quite enthusiastic when the Japanese teachers, in turn, had to make brief introductions in ENGLISH to us and stumbled just as much, although usually on grammar not pronunciation.

I was greeted by two teachers, including the woman I had noted earlier. She told me to call her “mama,” and her companion, who happened to be the vice principal, “papa.” I wasn't sure whether she was joking or not, but she did refer to him again later as “papa.”

When I got downstairs to meet my companions, I was still wearing my suit as I didn't know where we were headed next. Mama looked at me and asked if I would be hot, practically ordering me to go change into something cooler. As all I had on me still were jeans, and dirty ones at that, I politely went and changed into a short sleeve blouse. I'd say it was appropriate.

We stopped for a bite at a little restaurant. On the ride there, Mama had been inquiring carefully about my dietary restrictions as a vegetarian. I'd say, at this point, probably the entire office knows. Personal privacy in such matters is non-existent here, but, on this occasion, it's practical. We ordered parfaits. Mama, having discovered that I love chocolate, went to serious effort to make sure they put chocolate syrup on it. It was quite tasty, although stingy on the chocolate syrup. It was brought out by our server with “Welcome to Japan” and “We <3 USA” written on the plate in chocolate syrup. It seems the entire staff was in on it because as I (and my companions) exclaimed in delight (and took pictures) everyone poured out to share the excitement. On the way out, we also got samples of some sort of pizza. The crust was quite good.

We arrived at my apartment, climbed up to mine on the second floor, pushed open the door and I was greeted by a kitchen filled with my coworkers. It was shocking, to see my work in a personal setting like my home. I had invited my boss back in the States to my going away party at my home, and even that was a bit odd (a mixing of different lives) but I knew her quite well then, as a friend.

I sat down in one room with two teachers and we went over the basics of my schedule. I would be picked up the following morning at 9:30 for errands. I was also presented with my hanko, or wooden stamp. In Japan, this is equivalent to my signature and a definite DO NOT LOSE! It had my last name written in katakana, in a circle, as all hanko seem to be circles. Unfortunately, my Germanic last name gave them a bit of a hard time and I have been misnamed a slight mispronunciation. Alas! If only they knew that certain branches of my family tree (who bicker this exact point of pronunciation) are probably cackling at the moment.

My apartment is HUGE. I have three bedrooms, a kitchen, a bathroom, a toilet room, and a front hall where shoes are taken off, complete with shoe cupboard. Pictures will go up eventually. Two of the rooms have tatami mats on the floor. Tatami mats are (very expensive and traditional Japanese) woven reed floor coverings that are secured into the floor. When I first walked in, I was overwhelmed by a fishy smell. Later that night, I turned on the cooking fan, and opened windows, but the smell lingers. I'm beginning to wonder if it's from the tatami mats, although I have gotten up close and personal sniffing them and it doesn't seem to be. I also have an air conditioner, although, as I am paying my own electric bills, I've had it off almost since I got here. It's rained, so it's cooled off some. I'm sure I'll flip it on soon enough. There's also a washing machine, which I don't know how to work, but it's there.

Once the teachers left, Parker, my predecessor, gave me a box of random kitchen utensils and an iron to help supplement what my fellow teachers provided (kitchen towels, bath towels, dish soap, two bath soaps, travel-sized shampoo and conditioner, hangers, a laundry hanger, dishes, cutlery, tissues, etc. None of this required of them. They also provided me with: a futon (not like the bed-couches of home; here, it's all bedding, and spread out on the floor every day. Every morning, it's rolled up into big cupboards, as keeping it on the mats, with the moisture, destroys them.), microwave, stove-top, and a mini fridge/freezer. None of these come with an apartment.

Parker then took me around and showed me how to turn on the hot water over my sink (you can see the gas flames heat it as you turn it on), and my bath tub, which, again, is gas heated when you want to bath. Bathtubs here are in a different room from the toilet. This tub is just big enough to sit down in, but very, deep, perhaps 2-3 feet. The toilet is a modern water-saving kind. The sink is attached and you wash your hands in the water that runs out a little spigot on top. This water then flows into the toilet and is used to fill up the back for the next flush. Nifty.

Parker helped me set up my futon, which was still in plastic bags. All of the pads and the cover itself needed covers put on them. Parker could read the kanji and knew which pads went with which covers. It helped.

Parker and I then went out to run errands. My apartment complex is next to a temple. Go figure. Apparently there is traditional drumming early in the morning, that Parker warned might wake me up until I'm used to it. I heard no drums and am a bit disappointed.

I thank my lucky stars that I had Parker. Many JETs show up and have to figure all this out on their own. He biked slowly next to on the way to the bike shop. There, he stood next to me, equally clueless while we looked at and debated bikes. Eventually the salesman directed me to a good one (on sale!) and I bought it. I took Parker's advice and paid the little extra for 3 years of bike insurance. As he pointed out, one flat tire makes up that cost and he's had innumerable flat tires. Flat times, with insurance, are free. I also had to get my bike registered before I could have it. That was another 500 yen (in Japan, pronounced “en” or like the letter N.) Luckily Parker was there to fill out the application for me, as it was all in Japanese.

Then I hopped, for the first time, on my brand new bike and we headed off. It took a few minutes to get used to it. I was thrown off by the weight as I'm so used to my bike back home. My bike at home is a hybrid, but this one is a commuter bike, complete with fenders and a basket. It's practical. The seat, even though I raised it, is still too low for my tastes. It's probably how most people ride in Japan, but I dislike having my knees scrunched up while biking.

We biked past the rice paddies. This town is filled with rice paddies. Rice paddies breed mosquitoes, which carry Japanese encephalitis, which melts your brain. Such pretty, dangerous fields...

We biked past the technical high school where I will be teaching two days a week. Parker pointed it out, commenting that it, like all high schools in Japan, resembles a prison.

We then went to the grocery store. I warned Parker that this could take a while, but he insisted he wanted to come and help me out. He was very good at pointing things out. I was a bit overwhelmed, so I didn't get much beyond eggs, flour, sugar, bread, milk, butter, pasta, and the most pathetic block of cheese you've ever seen. Clearly, we're not in Wisconsin anymore where blocks of cheese are sold by the pound rather than by SLICE! We were just getting to vegetables when they announced the supermarket was closing, so I only picked up tomatoes and have now learned that being a vegetarian in Japan, unlike in Ireland, may be MORE expensive. Lovely. Tomatoes were about a dollar each. Oddly, we never grabbed rice before we had to go, so I'll pick that up next time. We also rendez-voused briefly with Parker's wife, who was coming home from work. She's Japanese, and now heavily pregnant. While walking around the store, Parker commented that we were lucky that this particular supermarket had a pretty big cereal isle for Japan. Wondering where that might be, I finally realized that Parker was gesturing toward a bit of shelf smaller than the Cheerios section back home.

Biking home with that much weight in my basket was difficult. It threw off my balance. Back at home, I bid Parker goodnight and climbed up to put my life together.

First, I put my food away, only to find that the very nice fridge/freezer was warm as it had never been plugged in. I fixed that with the help of my kanji survival guide. This guide has a table of contents including kitchen, air conditioning, ATM, electric bills, etc., with key kanji (Chinese characters) and what they mean in English. Japanese actually has four writing systems: Hiragana (a phonetic system comprised of consonant-vowel pairs used to write native Japanese words with no Kanji), Katakana, (derived from hiragana, but with straighter, simpler letters, this is used to write foreign words, like television, or McDonalds.), third, Kanji (like Chinese characteres, these characteres each represent a whole word), and Romaji (Japanese written out in the Roman alphabet.) Kanji is hard to learn and everywhere.

Then I went through and began unpacking. One of the first things I noticed was that I need more hangers. I have a huge closet, but very little shelf-space for clothes, so most things will have to be hung. I also realized that I'll need a garbage can. I'm currently using the box that Parker's dishes came in.

I'm still trying to figure out what to do with all my space. One room is obviously my bedroom, because of the cupboards for the futon and the built-in closet. The second tatami mat room is also just off the kitchen and where my luggage was. It's where I've currently got all of my non-clothes items stacked, waiting for some sort of organization. I will need some sort of book shelf for my books. I wanted to put my TV in this room too, (oh, yes, they also got me a TV. We'll, it's actually the school's, so it had been in Parker's apartment, but as he's leaving, they nipped it from him and gave it to me.) I don't watch much TV back at home, but it might be good Japanese practice here.) Unfortunately, the TV cable plug is only in my bedroom. But there's plenty of room, so it's fine. I might make the second tatami room a library, or maybe the third, as I don't want to hurt the mats with heavy bookshelves.

Finally, I took a quick bath (there is a shower extension that you can hold, but no actual mounted shower, then climbed into bed, paranoid that my alarm would, again, not go off.