Reflections on my first full-year in Japan

I have been in Japan for one year and 156 days now, a little over 17 months. 2009 was my first full year here, and while the rest of the country tries to forget about the past 12 months in their bonenkai (忘年会), I’m trying my best to understand just what has happened to me this year.

Work

I’ve been through a difficult learning curve. Teaching young kids from day one, I began to find my ground in 2009. I’ve discovered which students and classes I adore, and which ones cause me problems. I’ve found a rhythm of games and work that is serving me well. If anything, I am better than ever with my very young learners, but I’ve yet to find the correct formula for older elementary and junior high school kids.

As for my working life, I feel appreciated and largely respected by my bosses and peers. This is very important for me: in such a decentralised system, your relationship with your colleagues can change the tone of your day significantly. I’ve also consolidated my teaching days into three schools, two of which are close to my home. Working 20 minutes from home as opposed to an hour away is the difference between being home just after 9pm, or being home at 10pm.

That said, I am considering what will come next. The job market is idle at the moment, but if I were to see a full-time job teaching adults for about the same pay, I would start looking to jump ship. I’m in no rush though, I don’t hate my job, it’s just that it is the kids that can ruin my day. Adults much less so. Yet, like I said, there is no rush.

On Keiko’s side, her work is moving in the right direction, if not quickly and smoothly enough. The poor girl has been working solid and much harder than I have. She deserves a long holiday and a big bonus, but neither are going to happen.

Verdict: Positive

Resolution(s):

• Find a less dry way to teach higher-level concepts (such as tenses and adverbs) to older children.
• Consolidate more working days closer to home.

Family

We started off 2009 by purchasing Ebichu, our hamster. He’s been an adorable and lovely addition to our family. He never bites and is low maintenance. So far, he’s never been sick, and he’s great to have around (even if he’s a pain to arrange a babysitter for). We love him as a family member. He might even be considered a substitute for the child that we’ve long wanted and came close to having this year.

The day I found I Keiko was pregnant, my heart pounded with anxiety… the doctor doubted it would come to term and Keiko was suffering from pain. After a few weeks, another doctor told us we would probably be fine. I felt myself ready to burst out with joy: I was going to be a dad. Only, I wasn’t.

The slow and painful moments that it took to acknowledge the doctor’s news, the floods of tears that followed, and the inevitable dive into depression I will never forget about this year. We learned this just two days before we were to move home. Our new house still reminds me of our loss. We chose it knowing that we would have a baby here where they could spend their first few years pottering around our small garden, playing in the nearby parks, and walking along the river. The house is great (although it’s much colder in winter than we expected), but until I fill that gap in our lives, I will always be living in that moment.

Verdict: Negative

Resolution(s):

• None (yet).

Friends

This has been a pretty good year for catching up with friends. Chikara was here for most of the year so we spent a good deal of time together. Nori came back in the summer so I was able to see both of them together, a throwback to our Aberystwyth days. But now Chikara’s back in the UK and Nori’s hard at work, so it’s not easy to see two of my best friends as often as I’d like.

As for friends back home, Rory came over (twice in 12 months). Although I didn’t get a chance to get to know him while we lived in Aber, it’s great to have that chance even though I live abroad. On the other hand, despite deciding to get a job here, Andy hasn’t made it to Japan yet. I hope that 2010 changes that.

Finally, I’ve networked a lot more this year, and it’s paid off. Earlier in the year I met Bryan (sadly, just before he went back to the States) for a drink, and I love the idea of catching an after-work or Saturday night drink with anyone following me here or on Twitter. (Just no murderers, please!) In addition, after learning some lessons from last year’s Christmas parties, I’ve managed to get more people into my contacts list.

Verdict: Positive

Resolution(s):

• Try to get out for drinks more often and meet new people.

Travel

I still have many places to visit in Japan. I didn’t do much sightseeing in 2008 as I was adjusting to work and married life, but this year I’ve made it to a few places: Enoshima, Odawara, Sagamiko, and more. I like local tourism, seeings things that are nearby on a day-trip or long weekend. Whereas many Tokyoites jet off to far-flung regions of Japan, that just stresses me out. There are still many local places that I want to visit this year, and I’d like to arrange another longer-stay holiday at some point in the year.

Verdict: Positive

Resolution(s):

• Visit Nikko, Karuizawa, and Ikebukuro (I can’t believe I’ve still not been there).
• Try to go on at least one longer-haul holiday.

Language

This year has been difficult for my Japanese skills. I’m still improving, but for months I had no teacher after the move from Sagamihara to Kawasaki. Now I have one, but she doesn’t teach on national holidays which, when you have a lesson on Mondays, is a constant annoyance.

I’m still overly shy and embarrassed by my Japanese, but if the alcohol’s flowing then so can the language. On the plus side, I can to talk to Keiko’s parents on the phone more fluently than ever. However, I need to talk more to help overcome my insecurities, so I’m trying to find a local language exchange partner. No luck yet.

Finally, I’ve succumbed to the idea that I should take a Japanese test. I have two options: JLPT5 or the J-Test. I don’t feel like I would struggle too much to pass JLPT5, but I’d like the experience of taking that kind of test. The higher-level tests (Levels 1 and 2) are important to employers, plus a pass might increase my confidence.

Verdict: Positive

Resolution(s):

• Try to supplement my private lessons with a group lesson.
• Find a language exchange partner or someone whom I can talk to entirely in Japanese.
• Apply to take a Japanese test.

Health & Lifestyle

Finally, I’d like to note that 2009 has been an excellent one for my body. Having grown up a fussy child, I’m only now beginning to eat most common vegetables. In addition, I’ve been trying to lose weight: I started this year in the gym, but gave up my membership as work became busier in the summer. However, since finishing at the gym, I’ve been losing weight due to better eating and my better understanding of calorie intake. This is a first for me, and it’s something I really hope I can continue.

Verdict: Positive

Resolution(s):

• Go out running more frequently (at least in the warmer months).
• Drop 5kg in a sustainable fashion.

Summary

On the whole, I had a rather good year. I’m fitter and healthier than ever, living in a cosy apartment and getting on well in my work. The things I wanted to do in Japan are being done, even if it’s happening slower than I expected. Even though we went through the toughest experience of our lives in the summer, we are nevertheless stronger and more determined because of it. In sum, not a great year, but not too terrible either: there is still room for improvement in 2010.

Happy New Year everyone!

The Perils of Morning Sickness

Morning sickness is poorly named: it occurs at all times of the day, often at the worst possible time. While Keiko cooks, she sometimes has to lie down; and when she wakes up, she has to snack to stave off the inevitable sickness. We knew that it was bad, yet we never imagined the nightmare we’d face trying to make an hour-long journey back from Kichijoji.

We had eaten a birthday meal with my colleagues at a pizzeria in Kichijoji, Dear Marble. They have a wide selection of beer, great food, but given how small the portions are, it quickly turns pricey. We got on the train about 10.45 and Keiko was already feeling peaky. Unhelpfully, the Keio Inokashira line has no express trains late at night. We settled in for a 20 minute ride, but by Meidaimae, Keiko had to jump ship.

It never occured to me how inconvenient train station facilities are. It’s much better than in the UK, but there are often no toilets on the platform, or they are located only on one platform. Usually you have to go to the hub of the station, down steps and through crowds of commuters. When you’re retching, that journey takes forever. Keiko could have just chosen any wall and added to the crusty vomit left by countless others but she’s classier than that!

We eventually got back on the train and arrived at Shimokitazawa, at which point she was ready to vomit again. The toilet was on the other platform, but there was no way we’d make it. She recomposed herself and told me, ‘Let’s find a place where I can sleep.’  Out on the streets, I realised that there was nowhere to rest in Shimokitazawa, and karaoke was off-limits (only the heaviest of sleepers could doze there). Keiko steeled herself and we boarded an express home.

On a Saturday night, at any time after 9pm, you can expect express trains to be packed tight. Crushed in the centre of the train, she began to feel faint. We reentered the train at the next stop, and got some breathing room by the door, but at the next stop (Kyodo) she had to get off. Keiko struggled to the Ladies’ and then disappeared for over 10 minutes. Watching women go in and out, I was worried, but Keiko eventually emerged, albeit feebly.

The half-hour journey had actually taken us over an hour. It was midnight after a very long day (I had worked and Keiko had signed the contract for our new place), Keiko was feeling like crap and I was frustrated and cranky. We boarded the last express of the day and made it to Noborito where we disembarked once again. The train pulled away and left us with only local trains – a half hour journey during which we could sit down. Keiko slipped into a priority seat and drifted off. She was balmy and miserable, and she’d thrown up all of my birthday meal at various points around Tokyo.

We got home about 1am, long after we left Kichijoji. It was a very disappointing end to the evening, but an instructive one: we could no longer expect the freedom we once enjoyed. For now we have to contend with morning sickness, but next it will be Keiko’s bump, and later the baby. Everything will require much more forethought from this point on, a challenge we are much better equipped to tackle now we know what we’re up against.

Bathing in Japan

Bathing, like so many things in Japan, is an obsession. Some people specialise in whiskey, some in flowers, some in military hardware, other geek out over baths. I’m not about to geek out, but I will give you a guide to the basic kinds of baths and their routines. Most of it will be from my experience, but I’ll make it clear where it isn’t.

The first thing to make clear is that if you are going to bath in Japan, you must be comfortable with being naked in front of others of the same sex. You will undoubtedly see the effects of ageing from angles you’ll wish never existed. If you’ve packed on some weight, you might also be dismayed at how thin everyone is, but my advice is to just get over yourself. Everyone has the same basic bits and you will not be judged any more than you judge anyone else.

A further notice is that if you have a tattoo, you might find it very difficult to get into any of these places. Tattoos are associated with organised criminals. As bathhouses cannot explicitly ban yakuza, they instead ban the symbol of membership: tattoos. Your little Transformers tattoo or butterfly might not be as awesome or as painful as the enforcer’s back, full of irezumi, but the rule will be applied to you too.

There are many kinds of baths, but I would break them down into the following categories:

The Sento

Sento are public baths. They are found in any neighbourhood and essentially cater to those who either do not have a bath or require a bath at a rather inconvenient time or place. If someone throws up on you on your way to work, you’d probably stop by the sento to clean up. The characters you’ll find inside depend on the neighbourhood, size and facilities. Although I had a bad experience in my local sento, other foreigners find they can fit right in. This may also be one of the few places you can enter with a tattoo, although again, that depends on the neighbourhood.

The first thing you will do when you enter the sento is deposit your shoes in a locker, taking the key without as you step up from the entrance and into some slippers. You will then need to give you footlocker key to the attendant and tell them what kind of course you want: you may need to pay extra for using the sauna or other facilities, plus you may want a towel. You’ll probably be given a bracelet of some sorts: wear it at all times. After that you’ll need to step into the correct changing room: look at the curtain – 女 for women, 男 for men.

The changing room (datsuijo) will typically be looked upon by the attendant’s room, so you may find that the old woman behind the counter can get a good look at bits you’d rather old ladies didn’t see, but it’s safe to say that she’s seen many more and perhaps even better ones, so let it slide. Also, don’t be surprised if an old woman cleans the changing room or bath while you’re stark naked, she too will be somewhat of an expert. Strip down and put your clothes and valuables into a locker and take the key with you. Do not leave your locker or key unattended, you will be charged if it is lost or stolen, and it is not unheard of for keys to be taken to generate money for the bathhouses.

The sento will tend to have at least one bath, probably with some sort of bubble feature, but most will have several baths. If there is a sauna, there will be an ice cold bath, you can usually tell from its crystal clear water being completely still, and there should be a thermometer on the wall. If you make a mistake and wade into it, you’ll probably regret it.

An important thing to note about sento is that you may need to take your own soap and shampoo. Many people take their own in a basket (I got mine from a 100 Yen shop). Apart from that, the bathing routine is much like anywhere else, as will be addressed later.

The Gym

Gyms may also have a bath. The experience is probably most comparable to a sento: you may have a sauna and a series of baths, but you’ll also have shower cubicles should you wish to wash more privately. Gyms will also provide soap and shampoo for you, so you needn’t take it with you.

The Onsen

Onsen are hot springs: hot volcanic spring water channeled out of the ground and into a bath. They are the epitome of Japanese bathing. You will find them in the mountains mostly, and the rules are pretty similar to any other bathing experience. You will need to deposit your shoes and clothing, keeping a hold of your key, and wash up before venturing into the water. You should find that soap and shampoo are provided for you, but some small places may require you to take some with you.

Some onsen will have outside baths (roten-buro), although you shouldn’t be surprised if you come across some of the local wildlife as well – freaking out is probably not a great idea. For the most part, outside baths are shielded from public eye while attempting to give bathers an excellent view. An indoor wash room will be your first port of call before heading to an outdoor bath, although I imagine many, as in the picture to the right, have wash areas beside the bath. If there are no taps, as in the the picture, you will have to douse yourself with buckets of water from the onsen itself (being careful not to splash other bathers).

The Hotel

Hotel baths, or those in a ryokan, will range from sento-style baths to indoor or outdoor onsen, and will typically play host to both hotel guests and day-visitors. Some hotel baths will not have lockers, but instead, baskets, so you will want to leave your wallet and keys safe in your room before venturing in. They should have soap and shampoo available in the baths, although they might try and sell more expensive brands in the changing room. The price of admission as a hotel guest should be included in the price of your room, so feel free to visit the baths as many times as you wish. You will probably have been provided a yukata (a short robe) which you can use to go back and forth from the bath to your room.

A word of warning: in hotels, baths can sometimes be either male or female depending on the signage outside. These are likely to be special baths of which there is only one within the complex. If this is the case, you will see a sign dangling outside with either 女 (women) or 男 (men). You will need to check with the staff as to how their system works, for instances, some places may keep a set time for when each sex can enter, whereas others may allow you to change the sign if the bath is unoccupied (although how you can tell without looking inside is another question…). If accidents are bound to occur at any of the places mentioned here, it is likely to be in these switchable baths, beware!

The Konyoku Onsens

Some baths are mixed gender (konyoku), but don’t take that to mean that they are a pervert’s paradise. Naked mixed bathing is typically the preserve of the older generation, plus women tend to be few and and far between at such baths. Most konyoku onsen will have separate changing rooms and you will either be expected to wear a swimsuit or keep a towel close at hand (for men that means they can perhaps place the towel in the water, for women, that is definitely the case (wrapped around their chest). The rules depend on the place, but it’s safe to say: the more family friendly and touristy the location, the more likely you will need some trunks. The more rural and small the place, the more likely you will need a towel. Konyoku baths are the only exceptions to the ‘no swimsuits’ and ‘no towels in the water’ rules. Check with the staff to be certain.

Bathing Etiquette: The Common Features

There are really only two rules you must remember when it comes to taking a communal bath Japanese-style.

1. Don’t defile the bath water. You and countless other bathers will be in there, so don’t make it dirty. Wash before you get in (you’ll see some Japanese just rinsing, but I’m all for doing it properly – soap up!) and rinse all the soap from your body before you wade in. Keep your towel out of the water (you can pop it on your head if you don’t mind looking a little silly – otherwise place it on the side away from the overflow. If there’s a plug, don’t pull it. Keep the water clean and you’ll have no problems.

2. Respect your fellow bathers. Whether you are in a mixed or single gender bath, you must show respect to the others: don’t stare, don’t splash, feel free to talk (albeit with consideration), replace and wipe down anything you use (stool and bucket). It is your respect that should prohibit you from wearing a swimsuit: everyone else is baring all, it is rude for you to think you’re special. Strip down and get in.

There are only two things you really need to take with you (or hire): a big towel, for drying yourself, and a small hand-towel, for washing yourself. When you go into the bathroom, you only need the hand-towel.

The washing side is pretty straight forward, but here’s some practical steps:

1. Take a stool and bucket from one of the stacks and choose a tap. It is best to take a new stool and bucket rather than to steal someone else’s.
2. Rinse off either using the shower head or bucket. If there are no taps, use bath water – taking your bucket away from the bath and pouring over yourself in such a way that you aren’t splashing anyone.
3. Wash your hair using shampoo and rinse with the bucket.
4. Lather up your towel and wash yourself from the head down, using the towel to scrub up. Rinse off frequently and continue from where you left off. When it comes to your groin, give the whole area a good wash, lifting yourself from the stool on one side then the other.
5. Rinse off a few times so that you are completely free of soap paying attention to your armpits and bum (the awkward areas).
6. Get into the bath slowly, keeping your towel above the water as you do.

Conclusion

Bathing is one of Japan’s most relaxing pastimes – sit back, enjoy it, and don’t let anything spoil it. Enjoy being clean and chatting with your friends or the locals, you’ll soon have to return yourself back into the bedlam of Japanese working life.

The Wrong Way Round

Happy Easter! While you guys were contemplating stuffing yourselves with chocolate eggs (I haven’t even seen one this year!), Keiko and I were making like Dharma Initiative guinea pigs… but more on that later. Saturday, for a nice change, was a day off for me, taken at the invitation of my boss. Weekends together with Keiko are few and far between, so we didn’t want to waste an opportunity to get some fresh air. Of all the places on our local to-do list, Enoshima came out on top.

Comparable to Cornwall’s St. Michael’s Mount or Normandy’s Mont St. Michel, Enoshima is an island perhaps reachable by a causeway at low tide, but the modern bridge makes it much easier. While crowds rallied to the tourist trap of a main street, dodging the occasional cyclist with their surfboard in tow, birds of prey swooped overhead (トビ, a kind of kite). It was a summery and sunny 20 degrees, the sea breeze making it pretty comfortable in the shade. The main mode of transport up the island’s hill were three escalators, although every has to walk down. For ¥750, you get access to the escalators, a garden (built by Englishman Samuel Cocking, a trader based there during the Meiji Period/late Victorian Age), and a modern-looking observatory. Worth the price of the ticket, but only as separate tickets would add up.

Unfortunately, in terms of man-made attractions, Enoshima is pretty poor. The Cocking Garden was sparse and basically a ruin, the observatory is undoubtedly limited by haze for half the year, leaving only the impressive sunset by which to make it worthwhile, and the main attraction of the Iwaya Grottos was a statue of a dragon with a light bulb in its mouth (a real waste of ¥500, except to escape the heat). Admittedly, it was a poor choice of season: the gardens have rose bushes which are nowhere near close to blooming and the observatory is best on a crisp winter’s day, but the cherry blossom was falling all around and the heat was nice but not oppressive. The island’s strength lies its natural features: its rock-pools, views and fauna.Your trip to Enoshima is best spent looking for crabs and fish in its rock-pools, lounging around in the sun, and watching the kites fly overhead. For the love of God, however, do not decide to try and walk around the island’s coastline.

Today I made a stupid decision, stuck with it, and put my wife’s life on the line along with my own. Please DO NOT ATTEMPT WHAT I AM ABOUT TO DESCRIBE. If you are crazy enough to try it, I accept no responsibility for your actions and I strongly urge you to reconsider. After finishing at the cave, Keiko and I walked back the way we had come, but didn’t fancy the steep climb, so we kept walking. We reached the jetty for the shuttle-boat, but it would take us off the island and we weren’t really done. I thought Keiko said she didn’t want to take it (she actually said she was happy with it), so I said we should try and walk. I could see a couple of fishermen past where the boat would stop, so I thought it must have been not only possible, but simple. Boy was I wrong! I should have turned back the first time we climbed up onto a dirt path, but I thought that it couldn’t be all that far, nor any more difficult, there were still a handful of fishermen in sight.

We kept going as the climb got steeper and dirtier, each time we would descend onto the shore and think we were done, but there was always more. Rope had been placed along the route, a worn path in the dirt and footholds in the rocks, but if this was a footpath then I think someone misunderstood the idea of a hike. The rope was absolutely necessary on several occasions: the 4m vertical climb, the part where a branch was the only thing stopping you from plummeting 5m into the rock and sea, and the steep descent to safety. It was harrowing, but I didn’t know when to call it quits. I have a bad instinct about these things, it runs in the family: normal walks turn into adventure and extreme sports. Keiko wanted to turn back, but I foolishly insisted we keep going. At some point, I knew we should be going back, but I felt it would be even tougher to do so.

We kept coming across people: fishermen, barbequers, rock-poolers… Had they all scrambled across the perilous route to get there? Having made it, I seriously doubt it. The adrenaline was pumping and I wanted to get Keiko back safely, so I forged on and comforted her, never letting on how petrified I truly was. We made it and can laugh about it, but it was a dangerous and foolish decision and I hope I never do that to her again. However, my walk left a few questions: what were those shelters I saw? They looked like they belonged to homeless people, but perhaps they were shelters for fishermen. How did those people get there: by boat? It doesn’t seem very likely, which begs my final question: is it possible at low-tide to walk around the island without the crazy route we had to take? According to a site I read before I went – which quite possibly convinced me to go on my crazy adventure, it is possible, but I want some verification.

No matter what the answers are to those questions, it put a serious dampener on the nice day we were having. Keiko quickly forgave me and got over it, but we were both a little muddy and the adrenaline had negated my hunger (all night it seems), so we bought a few souvenirs and headed home exhausted.

By all means, go to Enoshima, but don’t waste your time on the cave, don’t expect to see the best of every attraction, and please, please, please don’t go off-piste.

Hokkaido: Days Ten and Eleven

Our last full day in Hokkaido appeared to start well, as we said goodbye to Keiko’s 96-year old grandmother and snapped a few family photos. However, as her parents went off to the nursing home, they were accosted by a neighbour.

You see, as a man of some importance, as I’ve kept saying, Keiko’s father has to be careful to not be seen to be getting special attention (one of the reasons it was important I reward the firemen with a personal gift so that they didn’t think of it just as their duty – it was a favour for which I am thankful). With the kamakura gone, the drive was now noticeably clear of snow. That was the root of the problem.

Keiko’s dad didn’t call in any favours. On the contrary, the neighbour across the road had a bulldozer (it’s a backwater town) and wanted to clear the road around his house and his own drive, which just happened to call for backing into my kamakura (I’m still a bit bitter). It was a kind gesture that we paid for and then some.

The bulldozer had pushed the snow to an empty plot of land, seemingly out of the way of anyone else. However, one person living across from the mound of snow (some 12 feet high, at least) – not even next to it – decided it was unfair and so complained directly to Keiko’s father in the way that Japanese do so well.

I am coming to the end of reading Karel van Wolferen’s The Enigma of Japanese Power, which discusses power relations in Japan – a great book, after many months of reading it piecemeal. At one point, Van Wolferen refers to a Japanese tendency for their tempers to snap suddenly causing them to act out before being quickly recovered. I have seen this myself and can vouch for it – passive aggressiveness can only go so far, so at some point something gives and hell breaks loose.

Well, this particular neighbour had a tempest in a teacup over this issue saying something about being unable to get his car out, calling out Keiko’s father for using his ‘special position’ to call in favours, and for generally being above them in the social hierarchy. For his part, Keiko’s dad took it and did not grass out the other guy. He did the manly thing and accepted it as his giri, duty, and promised to personally dig out some of the snow to make the complainer’s life easier.

I heard about this when Keiko’s parents came home, and I felt it was deeply unfair. I didn’t hesitate to get my gloves on and grab a spade and go out to find him. It wasn’t for the brownie points, but due to the simple fact that he was family, and family (particularly the men) have a responsibility to one another. His duty was my duty. I had seen the pile and there was no way he could do it alone without breaking his back, it wasn’t his fault, and as his guest, I had benefited from his actual calling in of favours.

The task ahead was incredible. I wasn’t sure how much we had to move out, but after 3-4 hours of lifting huge chunks of snow (which are anything but light), we had cleared out a 6 ft x 12 ft x 5 ft mound of snow, all for some complete and utter aho.

It didn’t help that I was a little worse for wear after the previous night: super tired, with a headache (not from the alcohol) and a slightly unsettled feeling in my gut (most likely due to the booze). After a well-deserved bath, my body more tired than ever, we headed out to meet Keiko’s dad’s brother, wife and sons. It was nice, but with sore head I felt like I was sinking into a deluge of Japanese. I was polite, but perhaps curt… Still, it was nice to meet them.

We finished our third day with yakiniku in Engaru and then an early night. I slept like a baby.

The next morning, my back and muscles gave me a glimpse of my future: 80 and arthritic… it’s not something I look forward to!

It was strange to be knowing I had leave. I felt extremely comfortable at Keiko’s parent’s house and Hokkaido in general. I could have stayed forever. As a guest, I didn’t really experience the downsides, but it was just the kind of place where I could settle down – no doubt in a 2-storey igloo guarded by a pair of snow-bodyguards. I really can’t wait to go back.

We didn’t do much at all on that final day, so we were soon on the plane and landing in Tokyo with a long train ride home – never a nice thing to come home to, no matter how pleasant the service is.

Since coming home, a number of things have happened, so I will follow up with an update soon.

Oh, and if you get the chance, go to Hokkaido!