A European's move towards Japan
A matsuri is a festival or holiday in Japan.
Usually they are connected to some shrine, but there are secular ones also. The experience varies, as they always have a local flavour: there can be solemn processions, food stalls lining the streets, music and dance performances…
Today is one of the three big matsuri in Kyoto, a long procession through the northern part of the city. And I’m planning to watch – I have to be off soon…
The time difference between Japan and Germany is +8 hours in winter and +7 hours in summer (as Japan does not follow daylight savings time), so Japan is ahead of German time. Interestingly this didn’t bother me when I arrived – I was exhausted from the trip and the moving as a whole, so I didn’t have much jet lag. By now I am back to a rather normal sleeping pattern of around 8 hours during the night, as opposed to the 5 or so hours I had the week before the move.
What does bother me tremendously is this: It’s getting dark so early here…
Kyoto lies on approximately the same latitude as Nicosia (Greece) or Albuquerque (New Mexico), and currently sunrise is around 5 am and sunset around 7 pm here – which means there are about 14 hours of daylight. In Germany, I lived 17 degrees further north, where the sunrise currently is around 5:30 am and sunset around 9 pm – meaning one and a half hour of sun more. Also I noticed that here, once the sun has set, it’s getting dark very quickly, whereas in Germany you could sit outside and read until past 10 pm.
I’m a night owl, so I enjoy having light until late, and I got used to going to bed about an hour or two after sunset. Of course, with that routine in place I get sleepy like that here as well – and it’s only 9 pm or so. I’ll get used to it in no time, I’m sure, but right now it does feel funny…
36 Views of Mount Fuji – On Finding Myself in Japan
Cathy N. Davidson
Cathy and her husband Ted visit Japan for the first time in 1980 to teach 
English at Kyoto University. Expecting the typical Japan shown to the tourists, inhabited by flower-arranging geisha living in tiny wooden houses, they are shocked by the industrialized nation they encounter. However, they soon discover a Japan where tradition and modern life are not mutually exclusive. Although not everything can be changed (e.g., having open conversations even with friends remains difficult) and some plans fail outright (like permanently moving to Japan), it becomes clear that the couple have lost their heart somewhere in Japan. This book contains 16 encounters with Japanese culture – profane, funny, and embarrassing ones, but always personal – and describes also their aftermath.
On my way towards Japan, I try to gather as much info about the country and its people as possible. This means that I currently read anything I can find about Japan: history books, literature, travelogues, … This book is extraordinary. Cathy Davidson describes her experiences with Japan and its culture, both the good and the bad ones, with unromanticised candor. And still, in every word her love for the country is palpable, just as is her pain at the realisation she will not be able to live there permanently. Highly recommended!
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…
The place I am staying in until I’ll get a job and a decent apartment is called a “gaijin house”, a sort of student’s dormitory for foreigners with private rooms and shared facilities. It is a way to stay for a longer time without resorting to expensive hotels or couch surfing. My tandem partner Tomoko even once stayed in a gaijin house – she said she wanted to brush up her English at that time.
I stay in Ebisu’s, an 80 year old traditional Japanese house near Kyoto University. Here is my new room:
It’s a beautiful traditional Japanese room with straw mats (tatami) on the floor; one tatami is about 1×2 metres large, so my room with six tatami has about 12 square metres. The left door you can see above is the door to the wardrobe, this is about one square metre extra. Tatami, despite looking very robust, are rather delicate, so you’re only allowed to enter with socks. Also, as they can bear no heavy furniture, those rooms are usually empty, but this has the advantage that they can be used in any manner imaginable. In the photo you can see the futon I have put in the middle of the room, since then I have added a small low table to one corner at which I’m sitting right now. Usually, you do everything in these rooms kneeling on the floor. I don’t mind that at all, in fact I have liked to do this since I was a child. Sleeping on the futon on top of the tatami is great also, and as you should remove the futon every day as way of making your bed (although I may be too lazy to do this…), it means that you are not squandering precious space on a bed you don’t need during the day.
The best thing about this room, however is the view. You can see the hospital in the center and the university to the right:
I think it’s spectacular. Why? Because views as a whole are not easy to come by in Japanese houses. Look at the small houses above – most of them are built on a lot that’s not much bigger than the house itself, with a bit of luck there’s maybe half a metre space around the house. This of course means that in the best case your window (especially downstairs) looks onto the next house’s wall, in the worst case it’s the window of your neighbor… Space is precious in Japan, and I am sure even those houses are very expensive. So, I’m very happy to live in a place with a sunny room that actually has a gorgeous view as well.
Anyway, I have already found out a few quirks about this house:
– The wardrobe is…odd. It’s a solid, one square metre thing – but there is no space to hang clothing – there is a board halfway up. Well, kimonos are folded and laid flat of course, and so are my tshirts, but other stuff…
– The walls are thin. Very thin. Although my flatmate is very quiet, I can still hear him moving about.
– The staircase is very steep, on the verge of being dangerous.
– The house is draughty. It’s still rather cold in the night (less than 10 degrees), and the windows don’t close properly. Sitting on the desk after sundown gets chilly very soon. Of course this is an old house, but I have heard this is true even for modern buildings. Single glazing is standard, and as central heating is uncommon – Japanese only heat the room they are in – proper insulation is not really a big issue here. Japanese houses are built for the hot, humid summers, and not for the cold winters, it seems.
I closed the door to my apartment in Germany on Friday at about 15:15. Without a friend there then, I would have completely missed the significance of the moment – with this small act I closed the door to my old life.
Anyway, moving on and closer towards the airport, I stayed at a friend’s place before getting up early to catch my flight to Japan. Which, except for a hefty fine for excess baggage at the beginning, went blissfully uneventful. On the short layover in Taipei I spotted a small bistro called “Iris” – not something you’d expect in China. After arrival on Kansai airport, I splurged on a shared taxi to bring me to Kyoto, and I finally got the keys to my new apartment on Sunday at about 15:30, after a trip of slightly more than 40 hours altogether.
I am still pretty exhausted as for the last week or so I only slept 5 hours per night or so. And that’s on top of the jetlag. So, I shall suspend starting my new life for another day – but it’s okay as it’s the last of the Golden Week holidays today anyway. There is an enormous feeling of freedom in this stage “in-between”.
In any case, I’ll go and explore the surroundings a bit later. There should be a supermarket close by…
I am on the airport, waiting for my plane.
I feel so… light…
It’s wonderful.
I have been packing all week. Choosing and packing and throwing away and choosing again. It was very exhausting, especially making the choices of what will come and what will go was difficult. Interestingly, I could let go of many things that two months ago – when I was doing the same in the old house in Austria – or even last week, I found indispensable.
The weekend before last, I met a Canadian who has done the same thing as I am doing – he left everything because he wanted to live in Germany. He also got rid of lots of things and describes the feeling as cathartic, and yes, it truly is.
So, this morning the moving company came to pick up what I could not leave behind. In the end it turned out that all possessions of my life, accumulated in its thirty-eight years (including a few random bits and pieces of my family), all of the things I apparently need to feel a sense of home and belonging, amount to eight cubic meters. Recall that what I brought from Austria a couple of months ago measured twelve cubic meters, and that was not counting anything I had in my apartment here. So I think I did a good job of letting go, for now at least, and it does feel liberating.
Somewhat at least.
Thinking that all my life for what it’s worth fits into 41 boxes and a suitcase…
I’m either a hero or a loser. Take your pick.
Today I have another flea market at my place.
This is the fourth I have in five months – two of them were in Austria. It’s not so much about the money – I don’t expect making a fortune, but it’s about lightening the load somewhat. I hate throwing things away that are still “perfectly useful”.
Yet another one of those habits learnt in childhood that are not always useful…
Friday, April 12th was my last working day. We had the obligatory office party in the late afternoon and we talked and laughed and I had bought cake and they had bought farewell presents…
I received the obligatory coffee mug – nobody can leave the institute without one – and a large number of carefully chosen further presents (with obvious input from our former secretary). Then there was the obligatory farewell card – nobody can leave the institute without one – written by our most creative colleague who always take care to write something special. The atmosphere was lighthearted, but I did ask them beforehand not to make me cry, so maybe they were extra careful.
The best present, however, was a very big and very unexpected hug from Mr. Attractive downstairs… While it was certainly worth it (mmmh… can I go back for more?) I’m somewhat glad I’m leaving – he has the potential to turn into a very serious and very dangerous addiction…
So, I’m now officially without job. Or between jobs. Or simply unemployed. So far it feels like I’m on vacation, with a big surprise trip awaiting me – and in a sense this is exactly what’s going to happen.
It is strange somehow though what a difference choice makes. Two years ago I was also unemployed – and I panicked. It came rather unexpectedly and I didn’t have any contingency plans, so I fell into a big hole. The funny thing is that at that point already I had considered to take six months off and go to Japan to learn the language – but I was too scared and rather took the safe option in Germany. I wonder what… oh well, spilt milk…
And now? No idea, I’m pretty open. I have found three rather interesting job ads online, both within and without my field of expertise, and with a bit of help from my tandem partner Tomoko I’ll apply for all of them. We’ll see what’s happening.
Until then, I’ll enjoy my vacation.