experiences – Page 60 – goinggaijin.com

(T)issues

When I was studying last week in the library, I got reminded of one of the things I find most annoying about Japan (Asia in general to be fair). Libraries are quite popular in Japan, many people go there not only to borrow books and leave again, but also to read, study, or work there. It could be the attraction of warmth in winter and air condition in summer of course, but let’s not be cynical. Anyway, during my stay in the library there were a number of other students, some guy who seemed to do animation on his laptop, a couple of people reading. And there was this elderly man with a pile of very thick books in front of him doing what I would describe as “research”. And annoying the hell out of me…

While I was attempting to solve grammar puzzles in one of my timed tryout tests, he started sniffling, which is the most annoying sound imaginable, even if you’re not sitting only 3 metres away in what otherwise is total silence, trying to focus on something difficult. Clearly, the problem is not really a problem had the person been an (adult) Westerner: You simply blow your nose.

Unfortunately this is exactly the issue in Japan: Blowing your nose in public is on the same level as picking it in public in the Western world: completely rude and unacceptable. Thinking about it, I cannot help wondering why this is the case (for the blowing, I mean…) It’s not as if tissues were not readily available – they are often being offered for free as advertisement for shops or events. In winter, Kleenex are sold in large 6-packs, and readily snatched up by shoppers. I have admit that sometimes I have felt the sudden urge to yell “Don’t just buy them, use them too!” Also, especially the Japanese are very considerate and neat people where everything needs to be “just so” and offending others is a no-go. But this could be part of it: That everything coming out of the body, so to speak, is considered unclean and you cannot offend others with it, while making an effort (and annoying noise) not to blow your noise is considered less offensive.

Anyway, the solution could be so simple: Just go to the toilet, do your business and return – hopefully without sniffling for a while. Unfortunately again, the old Japanese man did not even dream of doing that, and probably even a Japanese would have difficulties finding a polite way of suggesting exactly that.

So, there I sat, trying to focus on my test rather than counting the seconds between the noise. I managed somehow not to explode (I am so proud) and after a while the sniffles were replaced with the rhythmic, almost inaudible sound of soft snoring – he had fallen asleep…

Afterthoughts

So, the big JLPT N4 test was yesterday, starting at 12:30 and ending at about 16:30. It took place a bit south of Kyoto in the Kyoto University of Education’s Fujinomori campus, but it was quite easy to reach. Two rooms were reserved for my level and there were 52 people in my room – a ratio of 50% Westerners 50% Asians by the way – so I guess there were 100 people on my level overall.

The test was conducted in a very strict, I’d almost say Japanese, manner. The room’s door was closed exactly on time, no way of being late even a single minute. First, general instructions were read: What was allowed on the table, phones off, etc. Then the answer sheets were handed out and afterwards the booklet with the questions for the first part. More instructions were given: “Check whether name and number on your answer sheet are correct. Now pick up your pencil and write your name and number on the question booklet.” Of course, all of those instructions were given in Japanese, which was, certainly on our level, of disputable usefulness. One hapless guy started to fill in his name the moment he received the question booklet and was promptly and loudly and in Japanese yelled at: “Put that pencil down. Put it down! NOW!” I could not help wondering if these people realized that we were all adults in there… After everything was explained, handed out and filled in, we had to wait for the exact minute the test was supposed to start, and after the allotted time was over, we were supposed to drop the pencil in that very second. We were only allowed to leave the room once all paper was collected, counted once and then again, just to be sure nothing went missing. And that three times with about 25 minutes break in between, until the final listening section was over and were free to leave. Results will be sent out in February next year.

How did I do? Well, I ran out of time in the first section and had to leave some questions unanswered – I didn’t even have time to fill in random answers. I may have done reasonably well on the reading section, but I was very tired and my mind started wandering during the listening part. Overall, I don’t think I made it.

There is this one question I remember that I’d like to share with you. It was in the vocabulary section where a sentence is given, and then there are four more sentences paraphrasing one of the words and you have to pick the answer sentence with the correct meaning. In this one the answers were:
I want a new bag and wallet.
I want a new desk and bed.
I want a new pen and notebook.
I want a new camera and video camera.
The question sentence was:
I want new *** – containing the only word in that whole part I didn’t know… And this, ladies and gentlemen, is how it is possible to know 90% of the stuff and still fail the exam.

Anyway, I will take today off – it will be a very nice and sunny day. I have chosen a direction and will take my camera for a walk. I’m curious as to what I’ll find this time…

Renewal

Three months have passed since my last visit to the hospital and today was my new appointment to get a refill of my pills. Actually I went to the hospital on Monday already to have the bloodwork done on time, but the experience was pretty much the same.

As I got registered in the hospital’s database and received a nice plastic card with all my data on it last time already, all I needed to do this time was to go straight to one of the machines looking like ATM’s in the foyer and enter my card there. The display said something in Japanese, I answered in full trust “Yes”, and was issued one of those mobile-phone style beepers I talked about in depth last time. Going up to my department’s reception, I said hello and was pointed toward my doctor’s office, outside of which I took a seat. I had brought something to study, and as I was almost 30 minutes early, I was ready for a longer wait and took out my stuff. I hadn’t even finished getting everything out when the beeper went off telling me that my doctor was ready for me!

Inside, my doctor and I agreed that I was doing just fine and should keep the same amount of medication. Besides that, he suggested I should eat more sushi. Seriously! Part of my bloodwork shows variations from the norm that might indicate an insufficient protein intake. Yes, I have been eating very little meat and I do agree that there’s probably not that much milk in chocolate as I might like. I promised to be more careful in that matter and left him – next appointment in March.

From there, everything went as last time: Go downstairs, present printout to the accountant, wait for beeper to indicate price, pay, and leave. From my arrival in the hospital until I left it and went to the pharmacy the whole procedure took 25 minutes, and I’m happy to state that the longest thing in all this was the actual consultation. I guess it was just a slow day with not too many people, because I had to wait much longer when I had the bloodwork done on Monday. Today, however, the longest wait was at the pharmacy until I received my pills…

Macabre?

Sunday was nice and warm and pleasant – so I decided to go out and take some photos. It’s the height of the autumn season and the leaves of the maple trees are ablaze in red and orange and yellow…

I started out alright but then, somehow, I got sucked into the large cemetery that lies on the grounds of Kurodani temple, and I spent almost 2 hours there wandering between the graves, old and new… The spot is beautiful with lots of trees and bushes and greenery between the tombstones. I like cemeteries in general, the peace and quiet… That’s probably because I am Austrian – being a bit macabre lies in our blood. In Europe, the Wiener Zentralfriedhof (Central Cemetery in Vienna) is the largest by number of interred and second largest by area – and there are not many things a proper Austrian enjoys more than a scheene Leich (a nice funeral)…

Hairy

After three months, I finally had to do it: go to the hairdresser. I have a short cut, and when the hair in the neck starts to become unmanageable and starts to bother me, I have to go, no more excuses. The last time I went was during my vacation, so this was the first time ever I had my hair cut in Japan. Part of the reluctance can be ascribed to the fact that this kind of service is very expensive in Japan – the cheapest price I have seen anywhere was 2500 YEN, and that’s just the cut, washing not included!

Anyway, there is a small hairdresser’s shop close to my place, and I went there, armed with the essential phrases on a piece of paper. Once the old lady who was buying shampoo had left, it was my turn. “Kami o kitte kudasai – please cut my hair”, I said, and then “Mijikakute, ushiro de motto mijikai! – short, and in the back very short!”

The proprietor looked somewhat unhappy, sat me down and reached for his catalogues. In Asia, long hair is de rigueur for women, unless you are a really old crone and thus beyond redemption. Women my age and below must have at least a chin length cut. I also flipped through some catalogues, all the models looked like twelve year olds, all sporting hairstyles that were young, trendy, and probably took hours to do… Hence, nothing for me. My approach to hairstyling is: wash, brush, air dry. If it isn’t properly styled within five minutes, it’s a waste of time, so I tend to have those very short, self-styling cuts. Once the hairdresser got over his shock and chose a style (essentially the one I had but significantly shorter), he took to work. We did some chatting – as much as I can do it with my limited vocabulary – and work proceeded nicely. Also here, as in other Asian countries, the washing happened after the cut, probably to remove all those annoying little stray hairs that are usually left somewhere.

I am happy to say that I like my new old haircut, the whole affair was unspectacular and easy – but the biggest surprise came at the very end: I received a hefty discount of almost 40 % – and the owner said for the rest I should go out and treat myself to something nice to eat!

I love Japan!

Court Music

Last Saturday I was invited to a performance of Gagaku – traditional Japanese Court Music. Gagaku is an ancient form of music; it was imported – together with instruments – from Korea and China around the 8th century, i.e., at the start of the Heian period.

A Gakagu orchestra consists of wind instruments (different types of flutes), string instruments (zither, lute, and harp) and different types and sizes of drums. There are often three parts to a concert: one where the whole orchestra plays together, another one containing songs and actual singing, and a third one where only the drums and wind instruments accompany classical dance.

I went to the performance not really knowing what to expect. When everybody had settled down (the place was sold out), a young girl came on stage and made a short introduction before the curtain lifted. There was an orchestra of maybe 30 people, sitting on tatami in a stage that was fenced off with red wood like in a shrine. The percussion instruments were in front, the strings behind them, and the wind instruments in the very back on red steps. They started with the kangen, concert music, and the effect was … striking. It was similar to the music I had heard before at shinto shrines; I would call it rather a sequence of tones that were more or less attuned to each other than a melody that you could follow to help you along. The second part was a short introduction to a song that was contained in the brochure, in the end the whole audience was expected to sing along with the teacher on stage. It was fun, even without understanding Japanese (or being able to sing…) During the break, the stage had been rearranged for the third part, the bugaku, or dance music. The string instruments were gone, and the musicians now sitting to the left and right of the tatami stage in the middle, where the dancing took place. The dancers, clad in elaborate costumes, performed slow dances fitting the music, almost like the stylised movements in Noh theatre, or, as a friend of mine observed, resembling the slow movements in tai chi.

The whole concert took only 90 minutes, and to be honest, I was rather happy about this. It was interesting and worth a try, but nothing I really need to do again. The music could not move me at all, as I said there was no melody at all to help you along or make you understand the intention of the song. I liked the songs in the middle, but that was only a 10 minute intermezzo. The dancing would have been more interesting had I known what the movements meant. That was similar enough to Noh to expect that with some deeper understanding you could get something out of it though.

Maybe there is something more to it, I have to confess complete and utter ignorance here I’m afraid. I know, however, that I’m not the only one: the lady sitting next to me, after taking off her shoes, fell sound asleep within the first five minutes of the concert. Or, maybe, she just had had a hard day?

Capsules

As you know, I went to Tokyo last weekend. As I had to go on relatively short notice, the hotel chain I usually stay in was booked solid down until Yokohama. Not willing to pay 12.000 YEN and more for a single night – the Shinkansen ticket was expensive enough – I decided to go the other way and booked – for 2.200 YEN – a place in one of those (in-) famous capsule hotels!

A capsule hotel, if you want so, is like a dormitory but with a bit more privacy. You get your own capsule, which is a hole in the wall of about the size of a bunk bed. There are usually two stacked on top of each other and you have to enter at the head or pillow side. A capsule is very basic: Besides a futon or mattress and sheets for it; a TV may be there as well. Facilities are shared, and that’s why many capsule hotels only cater to male guests, although some have own floors reserved for women. Besides towels, yukata, and slippers, no further service is offered, meaning you will not get breakfast there. Usually however, there is a communal room somewhere with vending machines, microwaves, and even computers.

So much for the theory, this is what I knew beforehand. Here is my personalized version of the adventure…

Upon arrival at the Hotel Asakusa and Capsule and after some struggling with the reservation name, I first had to buy a ticket from a vending machine opposite the front desk for the price of the accommodation. After filling in my name on the ticket, I had to put my shoes in one of the small lockers near the elevator and put on slippers. In exchange for the shoe locker key I received the key to my capsule, or so I thought. Equipped with keywords for the electronic locks and pointers to the women’s bathroom, I went up to the 6th floor and found my capsule to be one of 34 in a rather dark corridor to the left of the elevator. Right of the elevator were housed the toilets and a washroom.

Each one of the capsules was just as I expected, they had a sort of curtain instead of an entrance door (I guess it would have been too claustrophobia inducing inside otherwise, as only some of the capsules had little windows, but not mine); they key turned out to be for the closet inside the capsule, which had space only to hang two shirts. It was certainly the smallest closet I had ever seen, although I have to admit that some of the Japanese business hotels I’ve stayed in did without them altogether.

Anyway, besides the closet, the concrete capsule was equipped with a futon, pillow, and blanket, and on a shelf on the foot end stood a tiny pay TV (100 YEN/hour), with earphones discretely but in plain view located beside it. There was a light, a telephone to call the front desk, and a small ventilator which I actually did use later on because the space became stuffy rather quickly. Also provided were towels and a yukata – after all, the hotel did have one floor dedicated to a sento. I found the capsule rather spacious, it had a size 1.2 x 1.2 x 2 metres, which was enough (for me at least) to sit without bumping my head. When I lay on the futon, I could not touch the ceiling with my hands, so I did not feel claustrophobic after all, but maybe – as the hotel was a bit older – newer ones are smaller?

Looking at the picture, you will notice that there is certainly not enough space for any type of luggage, regardless of its size. Clearly, it is not a good idea to leave anything in the capsule while you’re out and about, so different sized lockers were available in the basement – for an extra charge, of course. Other add-ons were a “dining” room equipped with water cookers, microwaves, vending machines, several computers providing free internet and a TV. An interesting bit of information – provided via a notice in the elevator – was that you had to do the vending-machine check-in every day again, even if you had booked for several nights.

All in all, I found the experience very interesting – a bit dorm-like with more privacy. It was very clean everywhere and warm and quiet. Everybody was very considerate also, I only heard the other guests as they were leaving in the morning, and the place was also fully booked. I think this is certainly something to do again – provided I don’t have to get dressed decently and put on makeup again, the washrooms had terrible light…

Sento Child

I went to the sento nearby again the other day, I try to do it regularly. When I arrived, there was a mother with a small boy, maybe four years old, in the changing room. Usually, kids don’t bother me in the sento or onsen – Japanese children are very well behaved, and their mothers know how to keep them content, if the hot bath does not. However, this poor boy, half dressed, was screaming on top of his lungs, clearly unhappy about something; and just imagining this inside, in the fully tiled, cave-like bathroom, made me see my relaxing bathing gone, and made me hope “Please let them be leaving already!”.

Quickly I stripped, put my clothes into a basket and went inside the bathroom. The elderly lady next to me hardly noticed me, and I started scrubbing. (I have written about onsen etiquette elsewhere already.) Halfway through, the mother I had seen outside came in with her boy (literally) in tow, who, unfortunately, was still screaming. His tone had changed to terrified, and he was repeating a single word over and over again (which I could not make out though), but his mother, seemingly unperturbed, tried to get him cleaned anyway. This went on for a few minutes, with the boy trying to escape outside ever so often, still repeating this one word, but his mother was always faster.

It is not considered polite in Japan to complain or voice one’s discomfort about anything (unless obviously drunk), so I was very surprised when the lady next to me finally went up to the mother of the screaming boy. I would be very curious as to what she said, in any case it did the trick and when the two left the sento, peace, and quiet water splashings were restored.

Looking back, however, I do wonder what the boy was so terrified of – the hot water, the shower, all the strangers? I remember when I was small, I loved bathing – but hated having my hair washed. The water pouring over my head always terrified me, I felt like I was suffocating, so I had to be dragged there kicking and screaming. Until this day, I don’t like swimming with my head under water. (Well, I can’t swim very well anyway, let’s rather call it “struggling to keep afloat”.) Maybe the boy had had similar fears? Do all children have at some point? Pity I can’t ask him anymore.

Dentist

About two weeks ago, on a Tuesday, when I was chewing on my after-dinner sweetie, I suddenly realized that part of a tooth had gone missing… Fortunately it was an old tooth, I mean, one that has been dead for several years, so there was no pain involved.

For that reason, and also, I admit, because I am terrified of dentists, it took me a few days to make up my mind – but at least I was asking for recommendations of English speaking dentists during that time. A friend of mine finally took matters in his own hands and emailed his dentist, and after a bit of back and forth about appointments and directions I went there on Saturday morning.

The staff, despite being very friendly, spoke only rudimentary English – and they had problems with my name again – but they produced what seems to be the standard English form to fill in whenever you see a Japanese doctor: name, personal info, previous illnesses, current medication… Furthermore, not only had I to describe the problem (broken filling at lower left #6), I was also asked to draw a picture. I guess if I knew in such detail what was going on inside my mouth, I could probably also fix it myself?

Anyway, I was finally admitted to the doctor’s office and put on THE chair. From there it went straightforward as usual. After a brief look (no broken filling but the tooth itself gave way), an X-ray (probably overkill) and a discussion of options (no, I don’t want a root canal replacement, thank you so much!) the problem was quickly fixed. It was also very interesting that the dentist took pictures of my teeth. I don’t mean the X-ray, but real photographs. The camera was a very small, sticklike contraption, and the images were uploaded immediately to his computer. Let me assure you that there is nothing more encouraging of proper oral hygiene that having to face 10×10 blow-ups of what should be your pearly whites… Never before have I put so much effort in brushing…

In lieu of Japanese insurance I had to pay immediately; I was surprised that the treatment only cost 5300 YEN – and 2200 of that were the “first visit fee” which not only pays for a nice plastic card with your name on it and room for future appointments, but also for them putting in your details into their system. I also got another appointment for yesterday, where he checked the new filling again, did some polishing and sent me on my way. All in all the experience was just as expected, and it was painless too!

However, I will have to find a new dentist for the next incident. When taking the X-ray, the doctor and I went into that small X-ray cabin; he put that lead apron on me, looked at me and said “You’re beautiful”.

It was completely inappropriate. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy compliments just like the next gal, but I want them in a private setting and not during a professional meeting. I would not go so far as to accuse him of full blown seku-hara (the Japanese term for sexual harassment), but the comment did make me feel very vulnerable, and yesterday, at the checkup I was more tense than usual even for a dentist’s appointment.

I met my friend today and he tried to explain it away, saying even he gets lots of those comments from both Japanese men and women, and the doctor just wanted to be friendly; but I don’t really think there is an excuse for this behaviour. Remember that simple friendliness will not leave me uncomfortable.

Back!

I’ve returned form my weekend in Tokyo. It was nice, a little bit stressful in the beginning, but very relaxing in the end.

When I arrived in Tokyo station after 2 hours 20 (using the fastest shinkansen NOZOMI), I managed once again to take a wrong turn (I hate Tokyo station) and almost missed my friend who was waiting exactly where she promised… Anyway, we then had lunch together (after it was her turn to get lost we went for fish in miso sauce) and then we went to Tokyu Hands together, which is a large chain store catering to … Well, in the beginning they were selling craft supplies, but by now you can buy virtually anything related to bathroom/office/kitchen/travel/ … on top of that. I will not go into details here, Tokyu Hands is worth its own Saturday post. 😉

Afterwards I betook myself to my hotel near Asakusa shrine, changed and put on makeup, and then went back to the city to the Austrian embassy or rather: to the ambassador’s residence, for the reception in honour of the Austrian National Day. It was my second such reception, and I was surprised that there were so many people. Apparently there are about 500 Austrians living in Japan – at least those the embassy knows of. The Austrian embassy is a large two story building in Minato-ku, that was built in the 1980s when that area of Tokyo was less developed, which means there was enough space to have a large garden also, including koi pond!

There was entertainment (Austrian zither and Japanese koto), speeches (the ambassador and other dignitaries), more music (a wind quartet played the Austrian hymn at a time when everybody was drunk enough to dare singing, but not yet drunk enough to have forgotten the text), and, of course, Austrian food. They did not have my favourite wine, but there was plenty of Schnitzel, potato salad, “Schweinsbraten mit Knödeln”, barbecued sausages, rye bread with various bread spreads, … all finished off with “Apfelstrudel”, chocolate cake and whipped cream (of course). It was an enjoyable evening, I met lots of people, both newcomers and those who have been here for years, both Austrian and Japanese. A Japanese woman asked me to teach her the first verse of the Austrian anthem, well, I could at least write down the text, but I can’t sing… I didn’t see her during the actual singing of the anthem, I hope she did well. I even worked up the courage (on insistence from a friend of mine) to introduce myself to his excellency, the Austrian ambassador, a very nice and pleasant person indeed.

Sunday was much more relaxing, just a bit of shopping (books! winter clothes!) before I went back to Kyoto. I guess I should go out more often.