Category: About Japan

I like hot weather, always did. I start getting comfortable somewhere above 25°C, whereas everything below makes me reach for a sweater. Very fondly I recall my visits to the Egyptian desert – vast, empty, and hot. Or those two hours I spent in the blistering summer heat at Dante’s View, looking over Death Valley and writing on my travel diary.

Humidity is something entirely different though: When your body is constantly sweating and you’re sticky already ten minutes after showering… ugh. So, this week was trying, to say the least. Air temperature slowly converged towards body temperature, finally exceeding it today with 39°C, all the while with a humidity of at least 60%. People cope with the heat by staying indoors – a majority of the buildings here has airconditioning now – and go out only in the morning or early evening. House owners around here often wet the streets in front of their houses – which does provide some temporary relief at least, but unfortunately does not help with the humidity.

Me? I have changed some of my habits.

Firstly, am taking cold showers now. Cold meaning 37°C instead of my usual 42°. It helps insofar as I am not emerging from the shower giving off hot steam, so I believe it helps with the sweating for a short while.

Secondly, I have to say that I’m not enthousiastic of electric fans, and in fact I am quite happy that Ebisu’s doesn’t have airconditioning. However, when on Tuesday night at 10 pm the temperature was still up at 30°C, I reluctantly retrieved the fan for the first time to help me fall asleep that night, and I’ve been using it ever since. Of course, I keep the windows open now at all times, but unfortunately, as Kyoto is enclosed by mountains on three sides, there is not much of a cooling breeze coming up the hill here.

Finally, I have taken to flee the house in the afternoons. My room faces West, and while this offers perfect views of beautiful sunsets ranging from pale pink to flaming orange, it also means that the sun heats my room like a furnace from about 2 pm until the sun sets. I leave the house at around 2:30 to look for a cooler abode. The university, with its airconditioned lounge and library is only ten minutes away. However, in this weather I prefer to be outside, and thank goodness, just between the house and the university there is Yoshida shrine, dedicated to the university, by the way. Its numerous buildings are dotting the hillside and there are many trees and shadowy spots. It is quiet and comparatively cool, and I go there to read, write, and study until they close in the early evening. So far, nobody has minded me sitting there, and I think I’ll go there regularly as it the closest and most convenient spot.

I have told you about unwelcome house guests in my post of last Friday. Today’s post is of a similar vein, but this time the guests are much more tolerable, no, even cute.

Last night, when we were sitting and chatting with the window open, we suddenly noticed something moving across the screen. It turned out to be a small gecko, maybe 7 centimeters long. It was running up and down the screen hunting its dinner – probably all the mosquitoes that were attracted by the light in the room. It seemed very busy, so I hope it could diminish the local bug population considerably.

It was fascinating to watch; and I have to confess that I posess a soft spot in my heart for those little creatures. The type that lives here has a yellow, sand coloured body, a triangular head and a very intelligent look in its eyes. A few years ago a gecko got trapped in a kitchen cabinet of mine, and I had to catch it so I could put it outside again. I knew that they can run on vertical window panes, but only when I tried to pick this one up did I realize how much they actually stick to the surface – any surface that is. It took me a while of gentle pulling until I could finally lift it up, and with both an apology for the rough treatment and a “please don’t call again” I set it free again on my balcony.

I hope the little one who visited us yesterday will stick around for a while – and that he’ll get big and fat on all the mosquitoes he eats… I don’t really count on him to diminish the cockroach population, but maybe the lizards that live on the stairs outside of Ebisu’s can help with that?

I admit it – I broke down. After five weeks of being in Japan and eating the local fare (some slight cheating with the bread from a “German” bakery which tastes like the real thing), I caved in and bought foreign food – imported from Italy. It does come with a nice Japanese label though – does that count?

This must be the smallest jar of Nutella ever produced, not counting those spoonful packages sometimes seen at hotel breakfast buffets. It is tiny, plastic, and contains only 220 grams. I cannot be the only one to call this a homeopathic dose, and already I am wondering “What do I eat tomorrow”? The price is fitting for the drug status Nutella obviously has in this country – 399 YEN per jar, which, even at the current exchange rate, is outrageous and makes every spoonful a real treat.

So far though, the jar is still unopened. I’m so proud! It’s not the price that’s putting me off or the fact that I’ll probably have the thing empty in two minutes anyway… It’s more that I’m facing a logistic problem as to one other necessary ingredient of the perfect “good morning” toast. Nah, the bread is easy to get, and we even have a toaster at Ebisu’s. The question is much more profane: Where the heck do I get unsalted butter?

Being an obvious foreigner in Japan has its pros and cons.

The pro is that you are neither assumed to speak the language properly, nor expected to know all the little intricacies of correct Japanese behaviour. If you are friendly, people will often go out of their way to help you, up and beyond standard customer service (which is very good in Japan to begin with). I recall an instance a few years ago where we – a group of about 10 foreigners unable to communicate in Japanese – descended on a nice restaurant in Sendai and demanded dinner. After some back and forth with the waitress, in which it became clear that we could not really get together, she finally pulled out her mobile phone and had the phrase translated “How much would you like to spend?” We agreed on a price – and had one of the best dinners I ever had in  Japan. Talk about service…

The con of being a Caucasian in Japan is – school kids. When alone, they are too timid to be a threat, but most often unfortunately, they come in groups and then there is always one who is plucky enough to yell the first “hello” in the direction of the unsuspecting foreigner. From there you are subjected to all sorts of well studied phrases: “Where are you from?” – “Do you like it here?” – “I love America!”, or just a general giggling of the girls. A friend of mine who lives in Korea and speaks Korean very well has learnt to counter these verbal advances with a smart “Do you want to marry me?”, which usually leaves the girls speechless and him time to escape.

Hence, my slight annoyance when, on an errand near Kyoto station, I passed a group of junior high kids starting to go “Hello!” just to be stopped by two slightly older girls with notepads in their hands a few meters later. I expected the worst, when the girls explained that they were students and wanted to ask a few questions for their homework. Not being able to retreat, I agreed. Imagine my surprise when the first question was: “What do you think about the death penalty?” The girls studied International Communications at the local university and had a few more questions in that vein: “Does your country have it?”, “What if it happened to your family?”. They wrote down my answers and opinions without further comment. For a moment I was tempted to ask what they think about it – Japan does have the death penalty – but I didn’t want to put them on the spot after all. What an interesting encounter!

It is funny how much those tiny little things that you never really consciously notice can make you go “huh?” when they are out of place somehow. For me, one of those tiny and irrelevant things are expiration dates every time I go shopping: “What, the 13th still?”

It appears that dates here are written in Year – Month – Day order, reversed to what is normal in Europe. It is weird: I have been here so often and never really noticed that! Thinking about it however, it’s logical: Japanese is traditionally written from right to left, in top-down columns rather than in rows. Although some modern publications are written in Western style lines from left to right, plenty of books and also manga are written in the traditional way still, and you start reading at the “wrong end” of those books which does feel weird somehow. At least it seems to be easy to figure out which way a Japanese text is written, as the columns are usually well spaced, and the hiragana and katakana entries are a giveaway..

Personal anecdote, vaguely related: You can do the top-down writing in Chinese as well of course, and there, as each character occupies the same space, it’s not so obvious as to whether something is written horizontally or vertically. I once stood in front of a large reproduction of some old Chinese text and asked a Chinese colleague of mine who was with me at the time: “But, how do you know?” to which he smartly replied: “Well, it either makes sense or it doesn’t.”
Okay, at least I can be sure that my departure from academia has not created an Einstein-shaped hole in science…

In any case and back to the dates, I have not yet made the mental switch to look for the important part of them at the end instead of in the beginning. I guess I’ll be going “huh?” for quite a while still…

The other day I went grocery shopping to a nearby supermarket. I had a description of where to go from my housemate: “Two roads further from the convenience store, turn right; it’s between the first and second road then.” Sounds easy enough?

It took me two and a half hours…

Apparently I didn’t walk far enough the first time, and I have learnt now: A “road” only counts as such if it has a name and admits two way traffic. The roads – at least around here it appears – are on a rectangular grid. In between, what is probably the equivalent of an American city block, there are narrow alleys, without names, where at most a single car can pass, and often not even that.

This probably explains the difficulties even Japanese have in finding an address. An address here rarely has a street name, they zoom into the city block of the building, and the number of the house is arbitrary – by building sequence rather than by proximity. When invited somewhere, you usually get the name of a street corner, and a small map (often on the back of the name card) which, using carefully selected landmarks like convenience stores, show the location of the house.

In theory, I knew all that before… But being faced with the practice of it is very much different.

In any case, on my wanderings I have found a German bakery. I cannot say whether they are owned by a German, as the staff are Japanese, but the taste of their bread is authentic, just as it should be. A dangerous shop! Unfortunately it is very expensive, so I should go there only on special occasions. Oh well, I have survived without before…