experiences – Page 44 – goinggaijin.com

Strandbeest

This weekend, from the 15th to the 18th of October, the Kyoto International Art and Film Festival takes place, only the second edition of the festival which has been created to balance all the things that happen in Tokyo. If you are interested and in Kyoto, the schedule is here: http://2015.kiff.kyoto.jp/en/schedule/

Like many of these things here where you already have to know about them to find them online, I have stumbled upon this festival by pure chance, yesterday, when I was in town. There is a wonderful exhibition on the square in front of City Hall, in fact this is a mixture of art and science: Theo Jansen’s Strandbeest. Theo Jansen is a Dutch artist cum scientist who builds large, autonomously moving mechanisms which he calls Strandbeesten, Beachbeasts. Those animals are propelled by the wind and he sets them free on Dutch beaches where they may wander around as long as the wind is blowing, and yes, it is blowing there very long, hard, and often… I came across the strandbeesten about 4 years ago when I was on summer holiday in Japan and I watched TV at a friend’s place. The interesting thing is that the whole mechanism moves purely kinetic, the legs are constructed in a way that there is a single degree of freedom, and they are essentially only folding over to create the movement. Think of a simple folding rule with only two parts – if you hold it at one end and then gently swing it left and right, the lower part will move as well, but only in a very specific way. Anyway, I bought a small assembly kit online at that time and stunned the students in my class on folding with this odd thing that moves. I was very happy to see a real one for once, and they move quite as beautifully – although you need quite a bit of wind…

If you want more information, including a video with several of the strandbeesten, here is Theo Jansen’s homepage:
http://www.strandbeest.com/index.php
and here is his youtube channel:
https://www.youtube.com/user/strandbeestfilm

And no, I’m not getting anything for this advertisement – I’m just a fangirl. And I think I’ll be off playing with mine for a while… 😉

Concern

In the middle of my chaos at home, I have now seen my accountant a second time, and I think I have found myself a real gem! He has already organised all my paperwork in differently coloured folders: red company papers, black taxes, yellow salary; and two more for my invoices and receipts, both incoming and outgoing. I think so far he is up to date with all my paperwork and money issues, but he still has some problems getting the accounting software he is using – and wants me to use down the line – to work on my computer. However, he will take it up with his office, so this should be solved the next time he visits me.

What I found extremely encouraging was his concern with respect to my salary. When setting up the company, I had to prepare a document stating my monthly director’s salary, apparently for tax purposes. Technically, I can pay myself as much as I like, but in my case there is the additional constraint that I have to make the immigration office happy, which means I have a lower bound on the amount I can earn.

Now, the first time my accountant saw this document, he called me to him and told me flat-out: “You earn too much!” His concern was not so much the wellbeing of my company, but my personal one. He explained that with this amount of salary, I will be hit with a lot of taxes next year. I tried to explain why I could not go any lower, but in the end he called my lawyer to get the information first hand – and in Japanese.

I found his concern extremely nice and thoughtful, and as I said, I am very happy about this. I think this will be a very pleasant relationship – let’s hope it will be a long-lasting one too!

Shock

When I came to Kyoto in 2013, I found a little cafe in town, and I visit it quite regularly. I especially enjoy this one because they have great ice cream, and the staff are extremely friendly. By now they know me and I can go there and write for hours without being bothered. Usually I go on Wednesday afternoon when I have no other appointments; it is quiet there, and I sit in a little niche upstairs. The last time I was there, before summer, there were some renovations going on, so this was not possible.

I should have investigated further then already, because when I came there today again after a break over summer, I stood, not in front of my cafe, but in front of a newly opened pancake house! I was shocked – no more ice cream! And when the youngster in charge told my they didn’t serve hot chocolate either, I turned on my heels immediately. Of course he had no clue what happened to my cafe…

Thankfully, since this is a Kyoto based company, there is another branch of my cafe in town, and although a bit inconveniently situated, I went there for today’s hot chocolate and ice cream fix. There I learned that the other branch had not closed completely, but just moved to a shopping arcade nearby the old place, and that they had severely downsized. I can only assume that the rent of the old place had been too expensive over time, thus the move.

Personally I am not sure whether this was a good idea, as the new location seems to me less busy than the old one, at least during the week. Oh well, as long as there will be a place for me to go with a free seat for me, it will be okay.

Exhausted

Since my boxes have arrived on Friday morning, I have been unpacking and cleaning and sorting and putting away my things. I am exhausted! And I don’t even think I have that much stuff – it seems there will be quite some empty space left in the kitchen cabinets for example.

However, my apartment still looks messy, with piles of clothes in my bedroom and random ornaments on the floor in my living room, etc. Just passing from one room to another and looking at all of it makes me tired. So far, the only room without piles of anything is my office, but that’s mainly because I haven’t tackled any of the boxes containing office stuff, documents, or books. Those are essentially all the remaining boxes, and they will take quite a while to sort through, I’m sure.

Hence, I have decided that I deserve a break. First I will clean a bit more and put away some more stuff, but later in the evening I will go to the sento nearby and have a really good scrub and a long and really hot bath. I’m looking forward to this! Current number of boxes left: 11

2nd kyu!

Last Saturday was my latest soroban exam – and I passed it!

I am now a sorobanista of 2nd kyu rank, and, according to my friend, this is not very common anymore. In the old days, if you wanted to have certain positions, especially in the government, you needed a 3rd kyu soroban grade, but obviously not many people went beyond that.

Although I made lots of mistakes in the trial tests I took just before the exam, I did quite well during the exam itself. I think there may be even room for further improvement, which in this case simply means a further speed-up. Hence, I am considering taking the exam for first kyu at the next possible date, which is in two months. It is unlikely that I will pass then, but as the next level exam will not be at my school anymore but at some outside venue, I better check out the new setting before attempting the next level in earnest.

Asadora

Today was the start of the 93rd NHK asadora. An asadora is a quite unique Japanese form of TV drama series; its name derives from asa – morning – and dora – short for dorama, the Japanese spelling of drama. Those asadora air daily except Sunday, and they are very short – only 15 minutes for each episode. Even if you miss one of them, there is always a rerun on the same day at noon, and if you miss that one too, there is usually lots of repetition included in each episode so that you can catch up easily. Altogether, the whole series takes six months, so there are two asodora each year.

Since the beginnings of the asodora in 1961, the plot almost always follows the same stereotype: It centres on a young female heroine who is going through great lengths and possible hardships in order to chase her big dream. In the end, she will fulfill all her desires, of course. Some of the stories are even based on real life events.

The nice thing about an asodora is that the heroine is usualy played by a young and hitherto unknown actess. I have heard that there are even public auditions, drawing thousands of young girls, something like “Japan’s next asodora girl” or so, and that this one single role can considerably boost a career.

Now you are probably wondering why I am telling you all this and how come I even know about such thing – after all, I don’t even have a TV. Well, the current asadora edition, called “Asa ga kita” (meaning either: “Morning has come” or “Asa has come”, Asa being the name of the main character), revolves around a young woman from Osaka who becomes well known because of her incredible skills with a soroban. And as young actresses don’t have to know anything about soroban these days, they need teachers. And it so happens that said teacher is the one I have been taking lessons from for the last two years. Yes, I do feel quite proud!

Thus, I know even more background: The shooting takes place in Osaka, and Sensei has been teaching there since June or even May. He says that the whole production is very flexible and that, if the viewers don’t like the direction it is taking, things may still be changed and redone. In the worst case this will mean that he will have to teach until the very end of the airing in March.

Although it must be very tiring for him, he is also very enthousiastic, and he has received permission to make some sort of fanpage for Asa ga kita, where he talks about soroban, of course. This webpage, by the way, is the reason for our last two soroban-related excursions. Most of it is in Japanese of course, but there are also little tweets and stories in other languages and lots of interesting, soroban related photos. There are also a few English pages, but I know that there are more to come – after all, the person responsible for those is yours truly… 😉

Circus

This silver week, I felt the urge to indulge my inner child and I promptly went to the circus! Together with my soroban classmates I went to the early afternoon performance of Kinoshita Circus on Monday, and because of the holiday, we got probably the last seats at the front side of the arena. Kinoshita Circus has been around for 113 years now, and I have read that it is one of the world’s three largest circuses.

I really enjoyed the experience, there were lots and lots of acts, mostly acrobats of one sort or the other, and the pace, especially in the first hour, was very fast, with subsequent acts almost blending into one another. There were acrobats balancing on a bamboo pole or a tower made with chairs; trapeze artists and performers hanging from the ceiling on long strips of cloth; jugglers and dainty ballerinas, magicians, and a troupe of motorcyclists driving circles in a not overly large metal globe. Almost all of the artists working above the arena were secured with ropes – and the trapeze troupe used the traditional net – except for the two guys on the wheel of death, which had me gasping for air several times. Check out the images at the circus’ homepage to get an idea – I did not bring my camera, but it was not allowed to take pictures anyway.

Of course, there were acts involving animals, and I am always quite ambivalent about them. On the one hand, I enjoy seeing the animals, but on the other hand, it is obviously impossible to provide them with the environment they require while they are on tour. I was glad that three of the four acts were very short, probably less than five minutes each. The poor elephant had to do a handstand and carry his trainers on his back, but the zebras and the giraffe – which was fed with bananas by selected audience members – were only circling the arena twice before they could leave again.

The second hour of the show started with the main act: Eight white lions, two of them male. I love cats, especially the big ones, but as I said, I also feel sad for them. The act was nothing special, and to me it would not have made a difference at all if they had not shown any animals at all. However, a large part of the audience were small children (I think we were the only group of adults-only there) and it may have a different impact on them.

We did not rush out immediately after the show with the rest of the audience, and we thus had the opportunity to talk to the clowns. What I had already noticed with quite some surprise during the show, they now confirmed: There were lots of foreign artists, they themselves were Americans, but all of the Asians were Japanese. I guess that the ratio was maybe half-half, and I thought that this sounds like a very cool idea to get a working visa for Japan. I wonder – if my company idea does not really work out – whether I can still take up juggling or so? On second thought, nah, I’d probably make a better clown…

Soroban Town

As promised on Monday, here is my report about the soroban class’s trip to Ono. Ono is a small town near Kobe which calls itself the Town of Soroban. Indeed, we have visited one soroban museum, two soroban factories and one master who makes handmade soroban, there is a soroban shrine and a bridge with soroban theme, and you can buy soroban senbei… But, let’s start at the beginning.

When we arrived in Ono after a two hours drive from Kyoto, we first went to the soroban museum. There is a huge soroban showing the current year on their parking lot outside, so it is hard to miss. Their general displays were nice, but once you have seen Ogaki-san’s soroban collection, there is not much left to surprise you. I did like the display of the various roots of the soroban, from Egypt, the Middle East, and China though.

Also, somebody obviously had too much time on his hands in which he built a small model of Himeji castle out of thousands of soroban beads. One room of the museum was dedicated to the process of soroban making, which until today is still largely manual work. There were machines on display, and photos of workers, the numerous parts of a soroban and the materials they are made of, i.e., different types of wood and bamboo. I knew that soroban beads are made from wood and are cut out of thin wooden disks, but I did not know that at that point already they would be provided with their holes… Afterwards, we went to see an acquaintance of sensei’s, who owns a soroban factory, and there we could see some of the machines in action. Unfortunately, this particular factory does not make the beads, but even so, there are lots of soroban in different states of completion lying around everywhere. Although the factory is quite small – there are less than 10 employees only – they produce 18.000 soroban each year – and a variety of different wood toys on top of that.

In this factory, you even have the possibility of making your own soroban. As this activity is geared towards kids, there are numerous colorful choices for both the frame and the beads. We were invited to make our own soroban; sensei made a red one with white beads, I made a green one with all beads in all colours of the rainbow, and here is my friend working on his yellow soroban. We visited another soroban factory as well, where we learned that soroban making – as probably most of the crafts in Japan – has carried division of labour almost to the extreme: For a really good soroban there is one master who makes the beads, another one who produces the rods, and a third one who makes the frame. Interestingly, although they are so thin, the bamboo rods have a lighter inside and a darker outside, and it is very important that the outside of the rods (which once pointed to the outside of the bamboo plant) is installed towards the top of the soroban, as it is obviously harder than the inside…

Both factories naturally also had a display of soroban, from the very old to the brand new ones. My favourite was the sample that was made to showcase all the different colours of the wood – the wood here is not painted – but in the olden days, the white beads would have been made from bones or shells.

After a short stop at a soroban master who works in his garage, we went to visit the other sights of the city: From a small bakery we bought senbei with soroban motif burned onto the top, and we took pictures of bridgeheads showing soroban, of course. Finally, inside an obviously both expensive and popular onsen, there was a soroban shrine; an unofficial one, unfortunately, so prayers won’t really help, although there is indeed a god of soroban – but he resides only in China. Although the day was very tiring, it was great fun too. Before we went home, we enjoyed another speciality of Ono’s: For dinner, we had special fried noodles called hormon yaki soba. But that is a tale for another day…

Matching

For three weeks now, it has been raining on and off: Each and every day it rains a little, it stops a little, it starts again… It drives me nuts. Not that I have anything against rain. As long as I don’t have to go out then, that is. But now, no matter when and where I am going, it starts raining just when I leave my home. And even if it’s not raining very hard and there is little wind, I am soaking wet within five minutes anyway.

As it is still relatively warm, the Japanese solution to the problem is to either wear flipflops or crocs. As I shall only be seen in those after suffering a severe brain injury, I was looking for other options when yet again I had wet socks within only 10 minutes of jumping around to avoid the deepest puddles. And I found said option in rather nice rainboots. Essentially there are two types: the practical, knee-high ones in black and the barely ankle-grazing ones in pink Hello Kitty design. Luckily I found something with a slight Scottish feel in blue and green and about calf length. I must have done something right, because I have already received the most coveted of all Japanese compliments: Kawaiiii!!! (which means cute).

Unfortunately I totally failed the test for becoming an honorary Japanese when I bought a new umbrella after the old one did not survive the last typhoon. The reason is that I went shopping like a normal Western person: I wanted an umbrella small enough to fit in my handbag in case the rain is just a threat and remains one. During a break in the rain, I went to my nearest shopping centre and found a tiny umbrella, weighing less than 100 grams. I asked the shop assistant if we could open it to check the size (for emergencies it will do just fine) and then I watched her folding it again (there’s a trick to it, but she assured me that it was standard Japanese) and then I simply bought one in the brightest yellow they had. For recognition value, obviously. Perfect! I was out maybe 15 minutes altogether.

Now, a decent Japanese woman would have gone to a decent umbrella shop and spent at least 30 minutes there. The standard umbrella buying procedure for a Japanese, or generally Asian, woman is as follows: Go to the shop and peruse all the umbrellas on display. Scrutinise their outside (the part that’s on top), if necessary, open the umbrella to get a better idea. If you find one deemed suitable, definitely open the umbrella to check its inside (that part that usually does not get wet). Many umbrellas for sale here have a pattern on the inside as well, especially if it is only a parasol that many women of all ages are using in summer.

Once an umbrella is found with suitable colour and pattern both in- and outside, look for a mirror. Place yourself in front of it, the open umbrella over your shoulder and make absolutely sure that the pattern, the colour and the distance between the stretchers goes well with your hair and favourite makeup. Repeat until you are entirely satisfied.

I know how this must sound, but I am serious, I have watched several Japanese women going through the whole procedure… It seems that people here have scores of umbrellas. There is a family in my house who stores their collection outside – all eight of them for two adults and a toddler. To be fair, it’s not just women trying to go for the cute look. My neighbor has a serious looking dark green one – with an inside showing a bright blue sky with fluffy white clouds. Wishful thinking, obviously.

Gas

It was a really great weekend. Until Sunday noon, that is. I’m not a big cook, I have never seen the point in cooking just for me. I like cooking, but cooking alone, eating alone, and then doing the dishes alone is just something I don’t enjoy. Besides, right now, when I only have a single pot, cooking is even less fun than usual, even though I have to admit that the whole cleaning part takes only five minutes which is just bearable.

Anyway, sometimes, fancy strikes me and I feel like cooking. For Sunday lunch, I had planned fish with potatoes and salad, which is quite elaborate for single me. When the potatoes were ready for boiling, I put them on the oven, turned the gas on, pushed the ignition button – and nothing happened. Nothing besides the rapid clicks of the firing mechanism could be heard, no flame was coming. I had had the problem a while back, and I just tried to repeatedly push the buttons just as I did then – but this time, nothing happened.

I was hungry, the fish was looking at me accusingly, but no amount of pushing or turning the gas on and off did make any difference. I became agitated, so much indeed, that I picked up the manual and rather painstakingly translated that part referring to error code 11 – which was shown to me on the only electronic panel of the gas range. It said “Your ignition is not working.” No, rly? “Just keep pushing the button.” No rly? I tried all three buttons repeatedly, nothing happened. At some point I thought it would be the gas, but then again, hot water – also gas heated – was working.

In case of grave distress, my to-do list is short: I call my friend with the inexhaustible patience or knock on my neighbour’s door. My friend was not reachable, and my neighbour played dead for the time being (I had the impression he was leaving later).

I panicked and decided to take matters in my own hands: I checked the gas company’s website. Their English site is blissfully short, and I found instructions of what to do in case there is no gas: essentially you must try to restart your electronic gas metre and wait for a while. Of course, despite me trying twice, it did not solve the problem.

Back to the English website: it’s devoid of any phone numbers. The gas company at least is honest and tells you that if you need something, it’s better to have a Japanese friend call them, and that the numbers could be found on the Japanese page. The only number there is on the English page, well hidden, is the emergency number for gas leaks, and it states that it is not allowed to call there in case of any other problems. Ever.

Their Japanese homepage, of course, is nicely cluttered with all sort of stuff people would not need in a hundred years instead of a simple large button “phone numbers here”. It took me 20 minutes to try all sorts of links to arrive at a page that looked like something containing numbers for their customer service. To be honest, I left it there. It seems that there is one of those awful menus behind every number, and I cannot deal with those in Japanese. It’s okay to speak to a person to whom I can explain that I’m an idiot, but electronic messages are usually not so forgiving. Thus, I sent an email both to my friend and my neighbour detailing the problem and asking for help. And then I put the fish back into the fridge and made myself a sandwich.

Help arrived at 11 pm in the form of my neighbour. He looked and prodded at the gas range, pushed the same buttons as I did and then also declared defeat. He did promise to call the gas company though, and finally, today, at 2 pm, a service technician came.

I showed him the gas range, pushed some buttons, and told him that the hot water is working. He only grinned, then he removed the tube that connects the gas range to the gas faucet, let’s call it like this. Now, inside that gas faucet is another little plastic tube. He took it out, blew through it a few times, put it back in place and reconnected the gas range. Then he pushed buttons – and everything was back to normal.

The whole thing took less than five minutes; it probably took the technician more time to get up and down the stairs… I was deeply embarrassed, but then again, how I am supposed to know that there is something inside that gas faucet, and that it needs cleaning? In all my 6 years of cooking with gas, this was never necessary. I can only assume that this little tube will stay clean if the gas range is used more regularly.

Anyway, my Sunday lunch – grilled salmon with mashed potatoes and green salad, mint ice cream afterwards – turned into Monday dinner, but it was no less delicious. And now, I can even have that Japanese red wine I wanted to try as deserved after dinner treat.