It’s time to bite the bullet and finally pay my property acquisition tax. To this end, I received a letter from Kyoto Prefecture. Not with a price, though, but with a questionnaire I need to fill out.
Some questions are:
where is the house
when was it built
how large is it
is it used as a residence or an office
has it been reinforced to withstand earthquakes
how large is the land on which the house stands
And here I am wondering: shouldn’t they know most of this already? I understand the questions for the intended use of the house (different tax brackets probably) and the earthquake resistance (older houses get a tax discount if they have been reinforced). But land size? Address?
Obviously they could figure out that the house was bought by me, and where I live – but the rest they need to have confirmed by the owner? Let’s not forget that Japan is one of the countries with the most aggressive record-keeping on the planet…
The other day, when I mentioned that I woke up to 4 degrees inside the house, I didn’t expect two things:
That it could get even colder – all the way down to 2 degrees and
that I would receive so many messages about this.
So, let me explain a bit what’s going on and how I deal with the cold. After all, I can’t stay in bed all day. That’s Pumpkin’s responsibility.
Traditional houses in Japan have always been built to allow for lots of airflow – there’s the gaps under the tatami, the shoji and fusuma made from paper, and the wooden framework that’s maybe 10 cm thick at best. This is great in the heat and humidity of summer, when every puff of air is valuable. In winter, even the Japanese are less appreciative about the matter.
And if you think that modern houses are better, you are mistaken. Even though the building materials are better and more airtight in general, 10 cm of insulation (at best) are not sufficient to keep in the warmth over night, even if there were central heating. And let’s not mention my personal nemesis/pet peeve, those single-glazed windows…
So, even though you get used to living in a freezing house, the Japanese battle the three coldest months of the year on various fronts. And I try my best to follow their example.
Layers and Layers of Clothes. A special type of underwear called “heat tech” is extremely popular, as are thin down jackets as outer layer for indoors. In between, there can be several layers of sweaters; cotton, wool, fleece, anything goes, really.
Space heaters. Except for the northern prefectures like Hokkaido, central heating is unknown in Japan. And when you think of it, it’s quite a waste to heat a room that’s unused all day. So, the Japanese use space heaters that they turn on when needed. Some of them are electric or gas-powered, but nowadays, the ubiquitous air-condition is used, which all have a special setting for heating. Traditionally, a kotatsu was used, that’s a low table with a heating element underneath, over which a heavy blanket was placed to trap the warmth. Many families still use them. They wear heavy jackets on top, while their nether regions underneath the blanket stay warm without so much as socks even.
Consolidation. If all else fails, you can move your life into a single room for a few months. Instead of heating several rooms one at a time, all activities take place in the living room, for example. In the evening, you just put out the futon for everybody. This is easier if you don’t have kids, though.
Hot baths. Another thing that helps against the colds, and which the Japanese perform as a daily habit throughout the year, is taking a hot bath just before bedtime. With the body nicely heated up by the ofuro, falling asleep is quite easy, no matter the temperature in the bedroom.
In the new house, I do mostly the layering and the space heaters, with only the occasional hot bath. Thankfully, I got myself a really nice woolen blanked 2 years ago, so I don’t need to heat the bedroom at all.
Also, the cold doesn’t “bite” the same every time the thermometer shows the same number. Thankfully, all the windows are closing properly here, so there’s no draft. However, I found out that on rainy or snowy days, it feels colder than when the humidity is low. Sadly, there’s not much I can do about that. Other than hope for an early spring, that is. This year, I’m not hopeful…
This is a quite old picture of one of the many Japanese vending machines. It’s only for beer – in case your nightly cravings are so strong you can’t quite make it to the next convenience store… This one is aptly called “The town’s liquor store”. Next to it was another one just for Gekkeikan Sake. It had only three different offerings (and not the priciest ones).
I took these photos years ago, so I’m not sure these two are still there – or any of the alcohol serving vending machines. Let’s keep the city clean and sober, guys.
Somehow, I have the impression that my dear Pumpkin went somewhere he wasn’t supposed to go… How do I know?
In Pumpkin’s defense: I put the blue board onto a stool that I placed in an especially sunny spot just for him. In my defense: He hadn’t slept there for several weeks before I even started painting.
Thankfully, I’m using water-based paint, so it was relatively easy to clean his paws at least. Not that Pumpkin liked the wet rag much, but he held surprisingly still during all of it. He’s a good kitty, after all. Mostly.
Anyway, what is that thing I’m painting – and bright blue to boot? Patience, my dear reader, if everything goes as planned, I can show you next week.
Last Friday, I had to go to Tokyo because I needed a new passport. And since you’re not taking a 4-hour train trip to do something that takes only 30 minutes, I met up with a friend after the paperwork was done.
Together, we went to the Nezu Museum, where we had lunch and enjoyed their current special exhibition about patterns on textiles and other daily items. It is built on the place of the private residence of Nezu Kaichiro, an industrialist of the Edo/Meiji period who owned a railroad. On a visit abroad he came across the idea of opening a museum, and his extensive collection of art was made public after his death.
More than the exhibition, I enjoyed the museum garden, even though it is quite gray and barren in winter. It’s a Japanese garden on 17,000 m2 and is home to 4 tea houses. It is on the side of a hill, and almost looks like a quiet valley where just a few neighbors live peacefully together. There are stone sculptures strewn throughout, and Buddha statues can be found there as well. I didn’t bring my camera, so this lovely image is courtesy of my friend.
Living in Kyoto, which is essentially flat, it always surprises me how hilly Tokyo really is. And yet, there are brave people on bicycles (okay: ebikes) scaling the hills. No wonder the Japanese are all so fit – so much walking everywhere…
And that’s exactly what my friend and I did after the Nezu Museum: Walking along Omote Sando and then further to Harajuku. It was nice to see people on the street, even though it wasn’t super busy – Omikron has hit Japan pretty hard. Omote Sando is more chic with lots of big international brands, but we also passed through Takeshita street with its quirky shops for youngsters, now this is truly Japanese style!
I took a relatively early (and empty) Shinkansen home, and Pumpkin was happy to see me again (I think). There’s only one thing that could have made my trip any better, but even though I started out in Kyoto with clear skies, Fuji-san once again didn’t reveal himself to me…
Today, one of my English students cancelled his class – he caught the Corona. He now has to stay home for 10 days and take care of himself. Don’t worry, the chances that I’ll get sick too – from him at least – are minimal, since we only meet every 2 weeks, and he was just fine the last time.
After one of my Austrian friends who caught the virus in 2020 already, this is only the second person I know, personally, who has been infected. To be fair, my circle of friends is rather limited.
Still, I can see why people are not worried much anymore if infections don’t happen to their own family or friends. Heck, I’m not worried at all, either. After two years of this, there’s only so much you can do, really.
Finally, my office has received its finishing touches today! I’m happy to announce that it is done now – have a look at the renovation diary to see how far we’ve come.
If you remember my old office, you will see that the furniture and the rug are the same. I still like them, they are perfectly functional, so I saw no need to replace anything. Unfortunately, I had to compromise a little on the layout. My idea was to have both desks next to each other along the wall with the window. But with the turquoise shelf opposite the entrance door, even put upright, this didn’t leave enough clearance behind the computer desk to get in and out of the office chair comfortably – or into the oshiire. Switching the desk and the shelf did wonders, and it doesn’t look as awful as I thought.
The oshiire is now closed with a door. I had to compromise quite a bit here as well: I had the idea with a folding door too late for the top/bottom rails to be installed properly. And the French doors I wanted originally to match the design of the entrance door were almost three times as expensive as the standard flat ones that are there now. Sometimes I really wish I were made of money… (Or that I could make up my mind a bit faster.)
There will be no additional lamps, the LED tracks/spots that my architect suggested – I would have never thought of that – are sufficient and give just the right amount of light. The old lamps will go upstairs into the library/reading room. The blinds were put up today, they come from another room of my old apartment and fit perfectly. The cat cushion is new, and Pumpkin is sleeping there right now. He’s not so appreciative of it in the mornings, but things will be easier when it’s getting warmer, and I can just keep the door open, so he can roam freely.
Things that still need to be done: Get the myriad of cables on and underneath the desk in order, or at least out of the way. Even though Pumpkin is not super interested in cables, he is curious, so I don’t want to tempt him too much.
There is no wall clock (the old one will go into the kitchen) and I haven’t put up any art yet either. Instead of damaging my beautiful walls with random holes, I have opted for picture rails on the very top. They were rather expensive, but this way, I can be flexible and exchange my art as I like. For now, I have no clear image of what I want to put there, but I have taken a number of great Kyoto photos that might just be the thing for the office…
That’s it for my official renovations with my architect and the contractor/carpenter, all of whom are saints with their patience and all. From now on, it’ll be a string of (hopefully successful) DIY operations. Unfortunately, I have more ideas than time or money… But then again, it’s not as if all this needs to be finished immediately. I have no plans for moving any time soon, anyway.
The next step is the bathroom. After more than 2 months, I’m still brushing my teeth in the kitchen sink for crying out loud.
Japan 1912. The Meiji era has just ended, and theold ranks of aristocrats are slowly giving way to a new class of rich people who are staking their claims at the top of society. Kiyoaki Matsugae, of lower samurai class, has been raised by the aristocratic Ayakuya family, together with their daughter Satoko, who is two years older. Kiyoaki’s complex feelings for Satoko eventually blossom into a tender young love, which is destroyed because both lovers avoid being open with each other. Only when Satoko is promised to an Imperial Prince do they recognize what they are about to lose, but now it is too late for a happy ending…
This is one of those romances where you’d like to slap both parties and force them to speak to each other. Much pain would have been avoided. And yet, Mishima draws a detailed picture of the time with all the scheming going on so that the Matsugaes can advance their position and the Ayakuras can at least keep theirs.
I greatly enjoyed this book; the romance between the two youths is only a part of it, which is growing in importance towards the climax. I loved the insight into Japan of the early 20th century, and Mishima once again is able to draw up splendid pictures in your mind’s eye.
Yukio Mishima (1925 – 1970; pen name of Kimitake Hiraoka) is considered one of Japan’s greatest authors. When he was 16, he got a story published in a very prestigious literary magazine, the editors of which thought him a genius already. After the war, Mishima was taken under the wing of Yasunari Kawabata. Both of them were considered for the Nobel Prize of 1968, but the elder Kawabata received it. Mishima wrote 34 novels in total, and committed ritual suicide after a failed coup attempt.
This book is the first of four novels that make up the “Sea of Fertility” cycle, which were the last four books written by Mishima before his suicide. I have read them all, and will give a final verdict when I post the last one. In the meantime, you can get this one from amazon and judge for yourself.
Day by day, I’m getting more and more used to my new house and the neighborhood. Since the move, I’ve had to adjust a few of my routines – and I don’t mean the new ones involving Pumpkin. As weird as it may sound – after all, I moved less than 5 km – but life does feel different here.
First, it’s so much more quiet, but in a neighborhood without through traffic, this is to be expected. Now I’m enjoying the quiet after dark, and I even go to bed relatively early these days. Of course, it’s still very cold, so there’s that; I’ll probably return to my night-owl ways once my house isn’t freezing cold in the nights anymore.
Second, I now know my mail man! He usually comes at around 10:30 every day, so it’s easy to stop him on the way. Since there is still the old nameplate at the door (I’m working on it…) I had to explain the new resident situation again. I’m not receiving any mail for my company, which will be a problem once tax season arrives… Anyway, I never received much mail, and there are far fewer ads coming (mostly for food and takeout), so he’s passing me by most of the days. Dear friends: Send more letters!
Third, I needed to get used to a new garbage disposal schedule. Garbage days are the same as before, but in the old apartment, I could bring my garbage down to the collection whenever I wanted, and the management would put it out on the appropriate days.
Now I have to do this myself on the very day (and not the evening before), and what’s worse: The collection is quite early in the morning. Twice already, I watched the garbage truck pass by, bags in hand… As long as it’s winter, that’s not a big deal, I’ll just store the bags another week. But in summer that is not advisable. We’ll see how the early rising will go then.
So yes, lots of new routines. Who would have thought…
Seriously: I have won the Nengajo Lottery. Every December, Japanese people send millions of nengajo New Year cards, which are delivered early in the morning on New Year’s Day. Each and every one of these cards has a 6-digit lottery number, and on January 16, you can find out if you’ve won anything.
First prize (6 correct numbers; one out of a million cards; 1,916 winners max) are 300,000 yen in cash (or 310,000 for online shopping or 200,000 yen plus a set of 2021 stamps.)
Second prize (4 correct numbers; one out of 10,000 cards; 191,660 winners max) are a number of choices from food to household articles. I’m not sure what they are worth, but I guess several thousand yen each.
Third prize (3×2 correct numbers; three out of 100 cards; 57,498,015 winners max) are these two cute stamps with tigers. They are meant to send one letter and one postcard within Japan, but I’m wondering how many winners actually use them.
