goinggaijin.com – Page 123 – A European's move towards Japan

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!

Voucher

Yesterday I have received the test voucher for the JLPT test on December 1st. It is a very small, postcard sized piece of paper (actually it’s A5, but folded in half) with the bare essentials necessary for the test.

The first page contains my address, the test date and time and the number of the JLPT application centre.

The second page has directions to the test site. I was hoping that I only had to go to Kyoto University around the corner, but my test is in another university to the South of Kyoto. At least I can take the subway line that is relatively close by the house. It is interesting that it says here “DON’T telephone the test site for directions.” I can only assume that the university there doesn’t know about the test – or, at least not the random person who would pick up the phone on a Sunday morning…

The third page is all about me: name, photo, registration number, date of birth, more details as to the test site; and what test I’m taking and when the test hours are. This is the page I actually need to take – together with a picture ID.

The last page contains a list of general instructions. It covers “Items to bring to the test” (test voucher, writing instruments – pencils and plastic erasers taken out of their cases – wristwatch), “cautions – yellow cards” (for things like: starting before permission is given, a ringing phone, speaking and eating during the test, engaging in what looks like cheating, copying the questions, disturbing the other examinees), and “cautions – red cards” (immediate disqualification for things like: ringing phone during the listening examination, cheating, taking the test for another person, taking the questions outside of the room, leaving the examination before having permission.) Some of the instructions seem harsh (alarm watches to check the time are not allowed), others common sense (speaking during the test), it should be no problem for me though.

What’s interesting about the test voucher is that it is mostly in Japanese and English; the Japanese is written properly, i.e., containing all the Kanji at the right places, but it comes with Furigana. The instructions on the last page are only written in English and, as you have to tear off the third page for the test, the “tear here” is written in Korean, Chinese, English, and Japanese Hiragana. Funny, isn’t it?

Anyway, it’s two more weeks – time to get nervous?

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?

Gosho

When the capital of Japan was transferred to Kyoto in 794 (then known as Heian-kyo), the emperor’s living quarters were called the Dairi imperial residence. When the Dairi was destroyed by fire, the emperor moved his private residence to the palaces of other noble families in the city. Clearly, it must have been a great honour for those families, and the number of imperial (ex-) residences (or Sato-dairi) in Kyoto makes it easy to believe that the emperor was rather forthcoming with this kind of favour. From the latter half of the Heian period (794 – 1185), the original imperial residence fell into disuse, and the emperor moved for good into the Sato-dairi. In 1331, emperor Kogen was crowned in a Sato-dairi called Tsuchi-Mikado-Higashi-no-Toin-Dono, and subsequently, it became the new imperial palace, the starting point of today’s imperial palace or gosho. It remained the residence of the emperor until 1869, when the imperial household left Kyoto and moved to Tokyo after the Meiji restoration.

The imperial palace, like many parts of Kyoto, was destroyed by fire several times in its 500 year history, it was often reconstructed, but also new buildings were added throughout. So, when you visit the palace, there are many different architectural styles to be seen, starting from the bright red buildings with endless corridors of the Heian time to the Otsunegoten, the emperor’s private residence in the Shoin-style of 1590. The latest addition to the palace, however, is the Shinmikurumayose – a new entrance for carriages that was built for the 1915 enthronement ceremony of emperor Taisho.

When you enter the palace grounds through the Gishumon gate, you first pass the Okurumayose entrance for dignitaries and then you see the Shodaibu-no-ma, a waiting room, or, rather, three adjacent waiting rooms, decorated according to the rank of the people who would have to wait there for their audience.

Other than those visitors of old, you have to take a more roundabout way: You pass the Shinmikuru-mayose and the red Heian-style corridors to get to the Nikkamon Gate leading to the Shishinden, the most important building of the palace. It was used for enthronement ceremonies for example, and there is the Chrysanthemum throne in the centre and the smaller empress’s throne to the right of it. Sitting on the throne (no, you’re not allowed to enter any of the buildings), you behold to the South a large Japanese Zen-style “garden” of raked white gravel, the only living things in there are a cherry and a mandarin tree.

You then move past the Shishinden to the Seiryoden, a reconstruction of the emperor’s residence built in the 8th century, where the emperor would receive visitors. Opposite the Kogosho and Ogakumonjo-buildings (for meetings with lower ranking people and lesser ceremonies in general), there is a beautiful Japanese garden called the Oikeniwa.

Its pond is meant to resemble the sea, pebble beach included, but the red koi do not quite fit that image. Finally, you get a glimpse at the Otsunegoten, the private residence of the emperor. It is the largest structure of the palace grounds with 15 rooms and faces the Gonatei, the emperor’s private garden. This is the end of the tour and you exit through the Seishomon gate.

The Imperial Palace covers an area of about 110.000 square metres. It is enclosed by a wall, and lies inside the Kyoto National Gardens, which covers more than 900.000 square metres and is enclosed by another wall. To visit the palace, you must first register with the Imperial Household Agency. You can do this either online or in person in their office in the garden. You can go as late as 20 minutes before a tour, but it’s better to be early. There are currently two free tours in English from Monday to Friday. Don’t forget your passport! Check out the homepage of the Imperial Household Agency for more details.

Cool

When I got up today, a bit after 8 am, it was very cold – only 11 degrees. As we have no heating and the windows do not close tight, it is cold even indoors. At least the sun is shining already, and the weather forecast promises temperatures of up to 21 degrees for today.

Which is very good, because this is one of the days where you should be at five different places at the same time – so much is happening today in Kyoto and its surroundings… So, I’ll be off shortly and probably not home until rather late. I will report tomorrow.

Swearwords

I just received an email from home telling me that the man who had taken care of the house over summer (meaning: moving the lawn and generally keeping an eye on things) is now – perfectly timed with the onset of winter – giving up the keys and does not want to “feel responsible” any longer.

Thanks – great timing!

Of course I can see what a huge amount of work it is to pass by the house every now and then and keeping an eye on it, now that it’s winter and nothing more to do. It’s certainly something I can do much more easily from 9000 kilometers away…

Thanks again dude!
If at any time there is anything I can do for you, just let me know. I’ve been looking for an excuse to learn and try some Japanese swearwords anyway…

Wrapup

Celebrations! I managed to finish the second volume of my book Genki – Elementary Japanese in the weekend, and I feel extremely smart now 😉 It’s four more weeks until the JLPT test on December 1st and I still have a lot to do: reinforcing the grammar I’ll need for the test – thank goodness no honorific or humble language – studying many more Kanji, and learning yet much more vocabulary. I am not really sure how to prepare for the listening comprehension part of the test – other than speaking to people I mean – but I’ll find a way I’m sure.

Besides that, things are going rather slow. There was International Day at the Kyoto International Community House yesterday and I went there for lunch and bought some sweets. The mother of one of my housemates will come for a visit tomorrow and she got all wound up and cleaned the kitchen – which, in turn, spurred me into action and I cleaned my room. I always have the impression I hardly buy anything besides food, but I end up with so much stuff – paper in particular – that I then have to go through and sort and toss… Anyway, the house is ready for inspection now – mum can come!

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.