Things That Are Weirder

Without further pomp and ceremony, here is Things That Are Weird, Part 2!

8. Train etiquette= it’s cool to sleep on someone but talking is frowned upon? And so long as we’re squished in like sardines, make sure you don’t look at anyone. That would be embarrassing. Just close your eyes and try not to jam your groin into my pelvis as we lurch around. Thanks.
On the plus side, if you get puked on by a publicly intoxicated businessman I hear you can shame them into giving you a nice chunk of change to pay for the sweater they ruined!

9. How is it that the nation that brought you pressure controlled washlets, heated toilet seats and the glorious o-hime (a nice little flushing noise to cover up whatever ungodly sounds you are producing) refuses to get rid of the foul squatty potty in most public places (I’m glaring at 2 of my schools now- not a porcelain seat to be found in the entire building)? Jean hems, beware! You might get soaked in the pee lining the bowl!

10. What do you mean I can’t pull money out from the ATM at 10 pm? What, you mean my bank that’s 20 miles away can’t be inconvenienced? Last I checked everything was run by computers…Am I interrupting their updates and disk cleanup?

11. Blowing noses in public is gross, I agree. But you know what else is gross? That there’s a lineup of male teachers after lunch waiting to gargle, hack and spit into the sink. No one else seems to bat an eye, while my English coworker and I are covered in goosebumps and trying not to let our gag reflexes get the best of us by spewing all over our desks. One of my coworkers asked us if we do this Stateside after seeing me looking rather pale, and when I responded he looked slightly horrified, "Oh no! You must think we are so rude!" The ethnocentric part of me nodded, but the part that wants to be culturally sensitive managed a weak smile and vague shrug of the shoulders. It's the sound that gets me moreso than the actual act.

12. It’s 7:30 Monday morning, the height of the rush hour for the trains. You bustle to the station and realize the trains are stopped. According to the scrolling text screen, there has been a “human accident” (I.e. A suicide) 2 stops ahead. Do you:

a.)    Stare in mute shock and have a crummy rest of the day  b.) Shake your head in disbelief and sorrow c.) Stomp your foot because now you’re going to be late-Damn it- and that idiot couldn’t kill himself in a way that didn’t inconvenience thousands of other people who were just trying to get to work?!

Sadly, the answer is going to most commonly be C. Suicide via train happens so regularly that the general public sees it as an inconvenience rather than the final, desperate attempt for relief from a struggling soul. I guess it doesn’t help that the train companies will often sue the departed’s family for lost revenue during the time it takes to clean up and restart the train lines. 

13. Cover those shoulders up, you filthy scarlet woman, you! How dare you show them off, have you no shame? All boney and freckly, the men are simply going to go wild with lust! Any decent woman would wear shorts so short their asscheeks are peeking out from the hem, mind you. And don’t forget the accessory to pull it all together- thigh high black stockings! Not. Suggestive. At all. Get rid of that fitted coat too, ya slut, and put on this burlap bag inspired tunic- it’ll hide those disgusting curves!

Things That Are Weird

Living in Japan is weird. Way weird. Some days are weirder than others, while some days it's like I just stepped around the corner and entered the Little Tokyo of San Diego. Other times it's like I just stepped around the corner and entered the Little Saigon masquerading as Little Manila masquerading as an electronic center masquerading as Little Tokyo.

I have quite an extensive list of things that are weird/make me scratch my head/defy common sense and logic, but I'll ease you in slowly with a few.

Without further ado, and in no particular order, I give  you: Things that are weird!

1.      If banks close at 3pm during the week and aren’t open at all on the weekends, how is the common man supposed to accomplish anything? Also, why the heck do I have to sign up for internet banking?! ‘Merica:+1, Japan: 0

2.        For a country that likes to play temperature extremes ping pong, why aren’t houses better insulated (I can hear my neighbor snoring….)? Single pane windows (drafts/noise/temperature leeching) and single drywall sheets are all the rage. C’mon Japan! I’ve stayed decent-to-swanky hotel rooms here and I’ve not heard a peep from other rooms. The ability is there, so put it to practice!

3.       For a country that is prone to mildew EVERYWHERE why are things built in such a way as to practically invite mildew in? I’m talking about weird lips on toilet bowls and strange raised drains with disgusting,  half inch-to-an-inch- moats around them. And why in the name of the Jolly Buddha do most bathrooms not have even a tiny, Japan-sized-friendly window? Methinks the mildew problem would be a lot easier to treat if, you know, you had proper ventilation in the room that needs it the most….

4.       For a country that is all about rigidly separating trash and “going green” with energy cuts, why is every item from produce to snacks to everyday items wrapped both individually and in an excessive amount of plastic wrap and Styrofoam? I am practically swimming in plastic and recyclables every week!

5.        Why are fruits wrapped in Styrofoam and plastic wrap? You can’t figure out if it’s ripe or not! On top of that, produce here is so ridiculously expensive. I forgot about that. My body sure isn’t going to forget the gout and scurvy I come down with.

6.        Sunscreen is sold in tiny, 3 ounce travel bottles for $10. Wait, isn’t this the land of trying to achieve pearly white skin? Where women wear visors, carry umbrellas for the sun, and wear opera length gloves?

7.        Embarrassment bags? So if I buy something scandalous, even if it’s just a necessary monthly lady product, the cashier will put it in a black or non-see through bag. Awesome. Now everyone knows I bought something whose true identity might make me flustered. If it was just put into a regular shopping bag, the dude on the train wouldn’t be peering into my groceries trying to figure out what the hell I just bought to compliment the shaving cream, carrots and hot sauce I'm carrying.

Painting flowers on laughing soil

My mom and my younger brother recently came to Japan on a flying visit. They were here for a week and it was absolutely wonderful to see them. It was fun getting to show them around my world, but I’ve only really just recovered from a month long cold (coupled with a few weeks of intense stress from my personal life that I don’t want to go into detail about just yet), so I was exhausted.

It's not a Japanese experience unless you make weird faces!

My lil brother is not so little anymore! But we have a mutual love of boba!

 They don’t speak a word of Japanese, so it was interesting coming home from work to hear about how they managed to navigate around. All in all though, it seemed like they had a good time!

In fact, they arrived just in time for one of the most beautiful acts of spring revival I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing (twice now): The blooming of the sakura trees.

The Japanese celebrate this fleeting beauty, this transition, blah blah blah, by having what are known as “Hanami” parties. The kanji for “hanami” is a combination of the characters of “flower” and “to see”, so it’s roughly translated as “Flower Viewing”.

Honestly, I hate hanami.

Wait, before you kick me out of the country or bite my head off Mortal Kombat style, let me explain. I halfway take it back. I don’t hate the act of going outside, relaxing, marveling at the change of seasons and looking at the flowers, I hate the “parties” associated with it. Traditional “hanami” entails hordes of people descending on parks and riverwalks, laying garish blue tarps all over, getting mad drunk and leaving behind a mess of cans and echoes of unruly noise.

Ladies and Gentlemen, this is ugly hanami

 Call me crotchety, but that’s not beautiful at all. It’s irritating. It’s not necessarily the crowds, because I don’t mind them at the beach whatsoever. The atmosphere of the seaside is much more conducive to that sort of boisterous energy.

I think I get frustrated because I have I very idealized and romanticized notion of hanami. To me, it should be like sitting outside and watching the arrival of a summer storm. I enjoy that stillness, that reflective period. Sakura flowers exude quiet beauty and grace. They are small, they aren’t fragrant, and when they die it’s like the streets are swept with soft pink snow. They glide into full bloom and then drift away.

Luckily, in the wanderings I made with my family across Tokyo, I believe I’ve found my new favorite place to go and take in the sakura. In the middle of Roppongi- that sleazy den of foreigners scouring the clubs for hot Japanese chicks – is a sprawling cemetery. There are some notable graves there, but the only one that is coming to mind at the moment is the loyal dog Hachiko.

Because it’s a cemetery, most folks don’t bother going in because of ghosts and ghoulies, but the place is filled with sakura trees. I was able to take some great photos, enjoy the shade and meander around in near perfect serenity. This will be my hanami spot from now on!

"They are all perfect"

Serenity and sakura.

It makes your nails sparkle like diamond in the sky!

I am not a girly girl.

Repeat. I am not a girly girl.

I have a limited shoe collection, I hardly ever know what to do with my hair, and I can’t apply makeup to save my life.

I have been peed on (and worse), stepped in Godknowswhichendtheycameout animal body fluids, slipped and cleaned countless horse corrals, took a horse kick to the back of the leg like a champ, fallen into manure piles and brushed myself off, shoved my way through intense crowds at concerts, scraped mummified rodent remains from under appliances, repaired roofing, and hauled and stacked hay bales. And then there was the rather unsavory aspect of working for a veterinarian and being the person delegated to do the bagging and logging of departed pets.

I even hang out with goats in my spare time!

Repeat. I am NOT a girly girl.

But I will be damned if there isn’t something about this country that…changes me. And half the time I’m not even certain I like the changes. I find myself waking from a daze after shopping to discover that my purchases have rosette patterns, smiling cartoon animal faces, lace and are the most hideous shade of bubblegum pink the world has ever seen.

I sometimes forget that my favorite color is green and not pink.

I partially blame this cute, pink material barrage on the fact that Japan is obsessed with youth. Not youth in the Western sense, where a we want women to be fully developed and young, but actually the reverse. In Japan, of the end of childhood, the tween age, is hyper fetishized to the point that women in their mid 30s are still striving to be called “cute” (in a childish sense), clutching teddy bears, pouting, and having an assortment of Hello Kitty accessories.

This is a strange land.

I’m rambling, but the point I wanted to make is this: even though I am not a girly girl, I still went out and got my nails done recently. And they are adorable.

I have always wanted them ever since my friend Lena had hers done the year we studied abroad. At the time, I poor as hell and surviving off of 100 yen groceries so there was no way I could afford them.

Not the case now! Long live my gel sparkly!

Would you like some NYAN with your coffee?

Japanese people love cats: Fact. 

There is even a cute sculpture known as Maneki Neko/ Lucky Cat who is beckoning with his paw for good luck and fortune to come inside.

Finding an apartment that allows pets of any kind is akin to searching for the Holy Grail: Fact.

Since most apartments are decidedly NOT pet friendly, the enigmatic Cat Café was born.

Cats will sleep where they are most disruptive: Fact

Cat Cafes are exactly what they sound like-a café filled with cats. I’ve been to several but my new favorite is in Omiya, just 5 stops down the train line. At Neko Café, you spend 1000 yen to get a beverage like juice or coffee or tea and an hour’s worth of time in the café. There are tons of books, manga, and even a computer and massage chair surrounded by fluffy comfortable couches and, oh yes, cats. There are about 15 in this particular café. Some are precious and some are so ugly they border on adorable.

So ugly he was adorable!

 I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss my cat like crazy, as nice as it is not having to be responsible for a pet over here. The past few weeks have taken a toll on my blood pressure, so petting some cute kitty-cats was almost exactly what the doctor ordered.


There is even a special package price if you want to stay 3 hours! I’m thinking that it would be a good place to go on a rainy day just to relax.


The staff was friendly, the café was clean and didn’t smell at all, and the cats were stinkin’ adorable! I mean, have you ever even seen a Munchkin Cat? They look so goofy with their tiny legs that you can’t help but laugh at them!

O-Town

It crept up on me again. The insatiable wanderlust I’ve had for as long as I can remember. Even if doctors find a cure for it one day, I will refuse any and all treatment. Traveling and exploring and experiencing are when I feel most alive.

For St. Patrick’s Day weekend I flew down to Osaka to meet up with some friends. I hadn’t seen Meagan since our India experience (there’s no other way to describe that trip), and I hadn’t seen Joey since Tokyo Orientation and the Los Angeles Pre-Departure hotel party in a bathroom that had a tub full of ice and alcohol.

Almost the instant Meagan and I were reunited at the airport we started acting like our normal, ridiculous selves. Poor Joey had to put up with it for the next 4 days, but in the end he joined the Dark Side and participated in the ruckus!

Osaka is a crazy city. To quote, albeit with some minor changes, “you will never find a more wretched hive of hedonism and debauchery”. Osaka made its mark as a merchant city. As such, back in the day money changed hands quickly and the city grew to be one that took pleasure in earthly delights-namely food. Nowadays it’s well known for delicious street food, dance clubs, business, host clubs, hostess clubs and being a great stepping stone into the Kansai region. It’s bright, it’s loud, it’s dirty (by Japanese standards) and its atmosphere is gloriously laid back and fun in comparison with snooty, uptight Tokyo to the north.

I loved it, yet I wouldn't want to live there.

Throwing salt to purify the ring

Are you not entertained?!

 Our first day, our trio went and saw Sumo with a big group of JETs from Wakayama. This was my second time viewing the sport, and I definitely liked it better this time around. I was very surprised to see that there were quite a few foreign wrestlers in the ring. It’s been a trend over the past few years that the top wrestlers have been Mongolian, but at this particular event there were at least 5 in the more serious matches. 

The evening was spent getting dressed up, coordinating with Meagan’s Kagoshima JET friends and going in search of an Irish bar for St. Patrick’s Day. Eventually, we found a place where we could have a few drinks, then stumbled our way to late night karaoke.

Interesting Teigan Trivia: I do not pride myself on my math skills, but apparently a little alcohol and a lot of sleepiness make me gifted. We took a taxi home early Sunday morning and I was sleeping for most of it. The moment the car stopped moving and the driver told us our total my head snapped up and I spouted out what each of us owed individually. Then promptly went back to sleep.

Sunday was spent sleeping in and slowly exploring the city. We managed to drag ourselves through the rain and go to Osaka Castle, which is very beautiful on the outside but, in my opinion, lacks a certain authenticity inside. I wasn’t keen on paying to go inside, so we ended up meandering around the grounds and eating Sakura (Cherry Blossom) flavored ice cream. Not a bad way to spend the afternoon!

Osaka castle

I put on my Tour Guide Teigan glasses on Monday and herded the gang into Kyoto. Although the sakura weren’t blooming, we still found the place lovely. As we strolled through the old entertainment district, Gion, we spotted several maiko and Geisha. Their kimono, hair, and make up are all simply breathtaking.

Entrance gate to Kiyomizudera

A maiko on her way to work in Gion

The highlight of the trip for me personally was the quick visit we made to the Human Rights Museum in Osaka. Understand that no country is perfect (the United States in particular has yet to own up to several events that I personally find abhorrent), but sometimes Japan comes off as this blessedly perfect nation rich in cultural heritage and history.

To put it bluntly, denial, apathy and cultural nationalism are largely responsible for this. It’s a long discussion to get started with, and I doubt anyone really reads this anyway so I’m not going to get into the nitty-gritty. Suffice to say Japan has a legacy of discrimination against ethnic minorities, indigenous groups, women, homosexuals, the physically and mentally handicapped, people living with HIV/AIDS, Atomic Bomb survivors (possibly the biggest WTF moment), Hansen’s Disease sufferers, and the homeless.

As such, this museum is probably the only one of its kind in Japan dedicated to discrimination. I had wanted to visit the past 2 times I’ve been in Osaka, but the timing never worked out.

Unfortunately, we were rather rushed because we had made lunch plans. However, the volunteers who staffed the exhibits were incredibly knowledgeable and kind, and despite most of the plaques having only Japanese explanations, there were subtitled videos and an English audio guide. Overall, it was really worth it to at least glean a little bit more information about how some of the aforementioned groups live in Japan and what steps they are taking in order to be seen as equals within society.

Our long weekend adventure had perfect timing to cheer me up after a stressful few weeks. I met new people, reconnected with others, ate some scrumptious food, and had a memorable time in the den of debauchery known as Osaka.

Graduation

Today was Graduation Day for Iwatsuki High School. This meant that Sabina and I had to dress smart, so I pulled out my reliable pinstriped suit and prayed that my hair would behave. Sadly, the weather decided to be rainy, so not only were we forced to walk to school in the rain, but my hair also poofed out something awful. Luckily, my headband tamed the worst of it.

Being that this was my first high school graduation I didn’t really know what to expect. True, I figured it would be a somber and serious occasion- all the more so because today also marks the one year anniversary since the Tohoku Earthquake and tsunami- but I didn’t realize quite how serious it was.

You know it's serious when students start sleeping

Honestly, I almost thought I was at a funeral. There wasn’t anything that screamed “fun”, “excitement” or “congratulations” at the event whatsoever.

For starters, the entire student body was made to sit in on the ceremony, which was full of speeches so full of honorific language that I could barely understand what the humble person was honorably speaking about to the honorable guests that humbled the humble person by honorably arriving with honor.

Afterward, every student in the graduating class was called out by name but…There was no cheering. No cries of happiness from the parents. No diplomas handed over nor walks across the stage. The students simply stood, bowed, and waited for the rest of their classmates to have their names read. In short, it felt incredibly anticlimactic and boring.

Class of 2006 baby! With Gram and Grandma

I can remember the screams of friends and family and the airhorn-yes, the airhorn- that my father brought in when my name was called and I walked across the stage. I remember a crappy, clichéd speech by our undeserving valedictorian and an amazing speech by Nayely. I remember being so ecstatic that I leaped out of my chair and bear hugged one of my best friends because it was over, we were finished, we were so grown up, there was so much waiting for us, and the world was at our fingertips!

The only truly moving part of the graduation was the closing song. I cannot for the life of me remember what it was called, but it was really depressing and nostalgic. No wonder the students filed out with tears in their eyes.

Still, some of them perked up when I went to their homerooms to visit them one last time. I ended up getting photos with several of my favorite students. As wonderful as it would be to keep in touch, I know it probably won’t happen. Life happens. They will grow up and move on. The best I can hope for is that they didn’t leave with a bitter taste in their mouths from my English class!

Mingling and munching

After the ceremony, Sabina, her friend Gillian and I mingled a bit with some of the parents and snacked on some finger foods. Unfortunately I either still have the Cold from Hell or I have developed a mad case of Hay fever, because I could not breathe whatsoever. I ended up excusing myself back to the staffroom where I was able to mouth breathe and sniffle to my nose’s content.

Let’s hope that these sniffles clear up because I’m flying down south to visit some awesome friends next weekend. I need to be healthy so I can party my way through Osaka!