Food theme

It's Golden Week here in Japan, which means that people have several days off in a row. It's a holiday that most people look forward to because they finally get a rest. I, on the other hand, have opted to work during Golden Week. What was I thinking? I've been working much too much lately, and could have used a few days to catch my breath and relax.

Anyway, I did manage to go out with a friend last night and had a fabulous dinner in Shibuya. I have no idea what the name of the place was. Fortunately, my friend speaks fluent Japanese, so she was able to read the menu to me. That's the area where I have the most difficulty in "assimilating" as one person commented in my blog.



Even though my camera doesn't take such great closeups, I'm posting a couple of pictures just to give you an idea of some of the yummy stuff we ate.



While the food was quite delicious, the service was, um, OK, I'll go ahead and say it: strange! We were seated at an ultra-tiny table, yet the staff brought almost everything we ordered at the same time! It presented a balancing act. Why would a restaurant do that?

Despite this minor problem, we managed to enjoy our meal of wonderfully fresh sushi, including scallops, which I've never eaten raw before. They were quite delicate, and the lemon slices between the pieces gave a beautiful lemony taste. We also had a Nicoise salad--although it wasn't anything like a real Nicoise salad, except that it did have tuna in it. Just so-so on that one because the dressing was very nondescript.

We also ate very delicious little salmon rolls, wrapped in paper-thin tofu "skins" and filled with cream cheese. They were very tasty.

So, it was nice to get out and play for a few hours. I've recently worked a couple of 18-hour days, trying to finish up a book writing project. In the past four months, I've been involved in seven book projects, and the pace is sometimes crazy! This is work I do in my "spare" time when I'm not teaching.

I think it's been a little too much for me recently because I seem to have developed asthma. I rarely ever get sick, so it's kind of annoying, and I've never had asthma before! It's probably due to being extra tired, and to all the crud in the air here. I've read that asthma has become a real problem in Japan lately. Some people tell me I should wear a mask--seen all too often here in Tokyo--but there's just something about wearing a mask that seems too strange to my Western mind.

So, instead, I use my inhalers and try to keep going. I should have taken Golden Week off!

A petit lunch

I was taken out for a birthday lunch yesterday by my good friend, Hisae. She was the first Japanese person I met when I came to Japan, and I lived with her for almost 3 weeks while I finished my training and found a place to live.

We met in Jiyugaoka and went to a small cafe that served beautiful and tasty food. I had a delicious seafood mousse with a light soup, salad and dessert. Hisae had an assortment of fish salads, along with soup and a green salad. Dessert was a delicious custard crowned with a sweet strawberry sauce.



I think Hisae was a little disappointed with the lunch because the portions were extremely small, and she's a big eater. She said she had eaten a late breakfast and was glad because she wasn't so hungry for lunch. Otherwise, she said she would have been hungry after this meal.

For me, it was just right, and I loved getting a chance to catch up with my friend after almost a year. But, I'd have to agree that this was a chick cafe. Men would probably go away hungry.

Can people tell where you're from?

People often ask about my accent and wonder where I'm from. A few people have thought I had a British accent, but I don't. I'm from America. I've lived on the East and West Coasts, and in the Southwest and Midwest. Somehow, I've managed to learn to pronounce my words carefully (especially since teaching) so maybe that's why some people think it sounds British. Brits don't think I sound British at all!

According to a brief online test I took, my English is "65% General American English, 15% Upper Midwestern (whatever that is!), and 15% Yankee."

If you'd like to see how your English is rated, check here.

From the land of Tir na nOg

A luscious red rose, smelling like one of the dozens of tea roses I used to grow in my garden in Seattle, arrived for me today. This picture doesn't really do it justice. It's the deepest red, and most velvet-textured rose I've seen in a long time! It has completely filled my little room with its intoxicating perfume, which reminds me of the real perfume called Joy. It was sent by my friend David and his wife Hiroko.

The countdown is almost over, and the big day is just about here. Tomorrow is my birthday, but it's no ordinary birthday. This is THE BIG ONE, the one I used to think that only very old people had.

I remember when my parents turned six-oh, and they were really old! I don't feel old! In fact, sometimes I forget how old I really am because most people guess me to be much younger. In my university class last week, students were asking me questions and trying to guess my age. The range was from an astonishing 29 (paleeeez!) to 38. Nobody said anything about 50s or even 40s!

Age seems to come up often, and people always act surprised when I tell them my actual age. I know there's such a thing as "being polite" and guessing younger, but that usually means maybe 10 years younger, at the most, not more than 20 years younger.

When they hear my age, they inevitably want to know if I've had cosmetic surgery or Botox treatments, to which I answer an honest "No."

A few weeks ago I went to see a doctor about my lingering cough from the flu, and took along a friend who acted as translator. He asked her a question. Her eyes lit up as she gleefully turned to ask me: "Are you pregnant?" We both laughed so hard we could barely wheeze out an answer. She told him I was almost 60 years old and his eyebrows shot up in disbelief as he let out a very long, Japanese-style "eeeeeehhhhhhhhhhh?" A couple of nurses and another doctor had overheard our conversation in the tiny examination room and peeked around the curtain to have a look. Now there were three other people going "eeeeeehhhhhhhhhhh?" One nurse finally said, "so young, so young." (He wanted to take an x-ray, and was maybe just being cautious. . .?)

Maybe I just have good genes. Or maybe it's my attitude toward life. I try to live in a way that honors and values all life. I have a positive mental attitude, despite the many tragic events of my life. From each one of those events, I've gained valuable knowledge about who I am, and why I'm here. It's humbled me and made me more compassionate toward others because I can understand their pain.

Perhaps, looking young comes from the inside. A healthy dose of deep introspection teaches one to stop worrying about the small things in life. Thinking more about those we love instead of those we hate does wonders for the spirit, and that radiates out into the world as the light of eternal youth.

There's a wonderful Irish film called Into the West , which tells about a land of eternal youth. In Gaelic, they call that land Tir na nOg. So, for an Irish birthday wish, I wish everyone eternal youth in such a land, and for me, I say, La-breithe mhaith agat (happy birthday)!

Care package from home

Thanks to my very thoughtful daughter, I'm sitting here looking at an adorable Easter basket that I just received in the mail. She and her husband went shopping for all the little goodies and put the basket together themselves. It's so cute with its little chicks and pink bunny!

Seems like she and I are in a role reversal lately. I used to always be the one making sure to decorate, cook, and shop for the holidays. Since coming to Japan, I've become such a slacker! Next to the cute basket sits the box I didn't manage to get shipped in time for an Easter arrival. Now Jenn won't get it until the week after Easter.

Being late to ship this box wasn't intentional (even though this may sound like a pathetic excuse). I hunted around trying to find something Easter-ish to send, but apparently the Japanese haven't adopted this holiday despite their gleeful attitude toward Christmas. You'd think the Japanese would love Easter, with all the cute little pink bunnies and baby chicks, and chocolate eggs, and pastel-dyed eggs. But, so far as I can see, it has managed to escape their attention.

Maybe next year. . .

Made me laugh!

I know, this is just silly, but I love this kind of humor! Thanks, Diana!

Enchiladas in Tokyo!

Went out with friends last weekend who suggested a terrific Mexican restaurant in Harajuku. I've eaten some Mexican food in Tokyo, and while tasty, it wasn't exactly like what I was used to eating in the U.S. I grew up on Mexican food in Tucson, Arizona, and have a particular palate for salsas, Mexican cheese, and the quality of the mole and chipotle sauces.

I ordered a triple enchilada plate. The corn enchiladas were filled with succulent and tender pieces of chicken bathed in three different sauces: salsa verde, chipotle, and the more traditional red sauce. It was hard to choose a favorite, but I'd probably lean toward the smoky and spicy flavored chipotle sauce.

This meal was authentic! There was even a strolling Mariachi band and delicious shaken Margaritas.




The down side was that Fonda de la Madrugada is a very long walk from the Meiji Jingumae station and it sits at the bottom of a long staircase which made me feel like I was going down into a dungeon. Another negative was the extremely claustrophobic, faintly lit, and smelly restrooms.

Pink "snow"

Beautiful though it might have been, nothing lasts forever. The petals have fallen and look like pink snow.



Everywhere, shopkeepers diligently swept up the remains of the day. Goodbye, beautiful Sakura petals.

All the little souls. . .

Today I wandered into a beautiful Shinto shrine in Okusawa, which is very close to where I work. It was such a serene place, and I believe it is a shrine to children. There were many individual little shrines, including one of a statue dressed in real baby clothes. On the floor of that shrine was a tiny white stuffed teddy bear and fresh flowers.



The main entry to the shrine is draped in a dragon made out of rope or hemp-like material, and apparently guards or protects the souls of the children. There's another open-mouthed dragon inside the shrine, and its head and upper body projects out of the rocks.



As I walked around the almost deserted grounds, I felt so at peace. Bless all the little souls who have touched so many hearts.



This is a photo of the place where visitors wash their hands before entering the shrine.



Here's one of the gold-trimmed doors to the main shrine.



Memorials to three children.



Peace and serenity among the trees.



The main shrine.

Japan's latest celebrity

A couple of months ago I was standing outside a popular electronics store in Shibuya waiting for a friend who was running a few minutes late. I stood there people watching and suddenly there was this guy dressed in black leather hotpants and a tight leather vest over a black turtleneck sweater. I've just discovered who he was: Masaki Sumitani, otherwise known as Hard Gay, or HG. He's apparently a heterosexual parody of a gay man and walks around thrusting his hips and yelling, "Yahoo!" He's also one of the hottest celebrities around Tokyo right now and seems to be making the talk show rounds. Here are some pictures of him.

Clouds of pink blossoms

Everyone eagerly awaits the magnificent spring display of cherry blossoms, and this is the optimum week! Clouds of pink blossoms are everywhere, and the contrast against the dark color of the tree bark is stunning.



These pictures were taken early in the morning in Jiyugaoka before work on what's usually a very crowded boulevard. By afternoon, thousands of people had gathered to view the trees.

One of my students, a business man, told me that every year companies have Sakura parties where all employees meet up outdoors at some particularly wonderful site to view the cherry blossoms. Usually, the newest "member" of the company is sent out to "hold the best spot" early in the day before anyone else can grab it. It's a long and boring day guarding the spot, marked by a blue plastic tarp, against encroachers. Anyone who's ever had this duty is glad to never have to worry about doing it again. At these parties, the sake flows freely and people get quite drunk, I've been told. This picture was blatantly "borrowed" from another blogger flicker user Kanagawa_keng (hoping he or she won't mind) showing the early arrival of freshman salarymen who lay out their blue tarps to reserve their company's party space.







Pedestrian, train, and car traffic have been intense and people even go out at night to view the trees. Many people say that spring has been extra cold this year and the wind has been especially strong, but even so, everyone seems to venture out on this yearly ritual to enjoy the Sakura.




What a shame it only lasts for a couple of weeks, but now I'm waiting to watch the petals fall to the ground where they will look like soft-pink snow.

A world of contrasts

Just as night is different from day, and spring is different from winter, so are there many cultural and generational differences in Japan. On the one hand, there's the traditional Japan where women wear kimono for special celebrations such as weddings and tea ceremonies.








On the other hand. . .well, they say a picture is worth a thousand words, so here are a few pictures of the rest of my day in Harajuku. This is the teen scene where the only tradition is making new traditions, and where kids get to express themselves and break out of the usual constrictions of everyday life in Japan.

Meiji Jingumae Shrine in Harajuku

I can't believe it's been two months since my last post! I've been so incredibly busy with lots of work writing textbooks for university students. My current project is writing three textbooks for older students, and the deadline is the end of April. Somewhere in all those deadlines, I managed to get out yesterday to meet my friend Judy for brunch. After brunch she had her voice lesson appointment, so I walked to the Meiji Jingumae shrine in Harajuku. I've posted a few pictures, but apologize for the terrible quality. There was a big fingerprint smack in the middle of the lens!

I had expected to see flowering trees at the shrine, but there were none. This particular shrine is a picture of tranquility and subtlelty. There's a bridge that crosses over a meandering stream and the trees around it glistened in the soft lighting. It seemed quite magical!


While many Sakura (cherry) trees are blooming already, they haven't hit their peak of bloom yet. It's expected any day now and I can't wait. I'll post more pictures if I manage to get out to see them, and will definitely clean my camera lens first!

Macaroni westerns?

I teach a chapter from an upper-level English book that includes what kind of entertainment people like. Part of the chapter is about movie genres such as drama, action, comedy, musicals, sci-fi and so forth. It seems that whenever I ask my students if they know any other genres, this is what pops us: macaroni westerns.

Macaroni? The first time I heard it, I thought my student just made a mistake. "Don't you mean spaghetti westerns?" I asked.

"Spaghetti westerns?" my student asked. "No, macaroni westerns."

After hearing this at least three or four times now, I'm convinced that what Americans know as "spaghetti westerns" has entered the Japanese mainstream as "macaroni westerns."

Who knows how these misunderstandings get started, but they do provide some humorous moments.

Things I miss

Don't get me wrong. I'm really enjoying living in Tokyo, but, to be honest, there are some things I miss.

Central heating
How is it possible that a country that leads the world in technology can't figure out a way to heat and cool an entire house or apartment? All we have are these wall-hung combination heating/air conditioning units--one to an apartment. They're terribly inefficient and very expensive to run, so most people don't use them unless the weather is either extremely hot or extremely cold.

Insulated houses/apartments
In Japan, almost no insulation materials are used in construction. Whereas in the U.S. we have double-wall construction and double- or triple-glazed windows, Japan apparently has no use for these modern luxuries. I can sit in my apartment and watch the curtains billow out as the wind whips through. There is absolutely no retention of any heat. In the summer, it's the opposite with no retention of cool air.

Warm bathroom
See above.

Space
This includes both personal and living space. I'm sure this is just an American bias, but I really miss having space for me and my things. Most of the time I'm elbow-to-elbow with other people, no matter where I go. Even in our teacher lounge, there are times when a room about the size of two bedroom closets holds 20 people or more. Often, between classes, it's standing room only. Everything in Tokyo is built with the thought of putting as many people as possible into as little space as possible. Apartments are the same. My entire apartment is probably about 150 square feet and costs me about $700 a month. My kitchen and bathroom are about 8 square feet each, and there is no heat in either of those rooms. Fortunately, I have a sliding shoji door that closes off the kitchen from my main room, and a door that closes off the bathroom area. That helps to keep my room warmer in the winter, but makes for icy-cold bathing and cooking!

Familiar stores
I miss stores like TJ Maxx, Ross, Fred Meyer, Pottery Barn, Lowe's, and Nordstrom. I could find anything I wanted in that combination of stores. In Tokyo, I have no idea where to find things. Everything is either in small, boutique-type shops, or enormous department stores that are like mazes. Even in such huge stores, I can't find what I'm looking for. And forget about finding clothes that fit! Armholes are half the size of American clothing, and bras and other underwear are made for 12-year-old-sized bodies. Women here also have wide waists, no hips and flat bottoms. I have none of those attributes.

Quiet
I really miss the quiet, peaceful , sounds of nature. Everywhere here is noisy, from the sounds of loudspeakers hawking everything from politics to roasted sweet potatoes, to trains blowing their horns, to people talking, to music playing in the streets. . .everywhere, noise, noise, noise.

My things
I miss having my furniture here in Tokyo, and my beautiful china and crystal. I miss my books, pictures, art, rugs, good thick towels, 400-count sheets, my big down comforter.

Dryers
Very few people have dryers. How can people live without dryers in a land where the summers are constantly rainy, where there are more than 20 typhoons a summer, where the humidity is around 90 percent for eight months out of the year, where winters are freezing cold? Washers and dryers are very expensive here, but there's plenty of money in Japan. Why doesn't everyone have a dryer? And, how nice does it look to see laundry hanging from every possible niche and cranny, including balconies, living rooms, bathrooms, kitchens or wherever there's a hook, curtain rod, moulding, or doorknob?

Car
Even though it's very convenient to take the train, I miss having my own car. There's nothing quite like that convenience that I took for granted my entire lifetime.

Family and friends
While I've made many fantastic friendships during my time in Tokyo, I miss being in closer proximity to my daughter and her husband. Email and Skype and regular phone calls are great, but nothing compares to being able to talk face-to-face and give each other hugs. That's what I miss the most.

A Christmas Story in Tokyo

Strolling down the street in Shibuya one evening after eating a very tasty Thanksgiving dinner, I couldn't believe my eyes! Each year I watch A Christmas Story with my family, and we always laugh at the lamp the father buys himself for Christmas. Well, here are two of them, right here in Tokyo! What a fun place Shibuya is. It never disappoints!

Unexpected honor

Last week my three classes at a prestigious university here in Tokyo ended. They were small classes of third-year students and, over the semester, we began to feel comfortable with each other. Each week students had to get up in front of the class to speak spontaneously and problem-solve a particular case study or article they had just read. It would be tough enough for a native English speaker to do this, but these students were speaking English as a second language.

Each week the students worked together in groups and got to know each other a little. At the same time, I got to know them a little. After each presentation, I congratulated them on their courage, and encouraged them to keep practicing their English, even after graduation.

At the end of their final presentations, I again congratulated them on their hard work and wished them well on their life's journey. I told them how much I had enjoyed teaching them, and how honored I was to have known them—even for this brief time.

When I was finished, my entire class rose to give me a standing ovation.

That's when I knew, for the first time, that I really was a teacher. I almost cried.

Up close and personal

There was a fire about two blocks from my house and I managed to get some pictures and videos. Apparently, it started in the small restaurant downstairs and spread to the apartments up above. When I got there, firemen were running everywhere, and a couple of people were being loaded into an ambulance with smoke inhalation. I heard that a man had jumped from the upstairs window and was slightly hurt, but didn't see him.

So many alarms were sounded that I thought it was Armageddon! I suppose with houses and businesses built so close together it wouldn't take much to raze an entire city.

Hot tea. . .and some Vitamin Love

Got a good chuckle from one of my students recently. We were studying from the chapter on health, which included giving and asking for advice regarding health matters, and talking about home remedies.

Here sat a shy, 40-something businessman, married with a couple of kids. Since our teaching method always includes role plays, I said we would do a role play where he was sick, and I would pretend to be his wife and offer him some home remedies.

Me: You look terrible. What's wrong?
Him: I have a terrible cold and a fever.
Me: Can I bring you some hot tea with lemon?
Him: Yes, that would be nice. Thank you.
Me: Do you need anything else?
Him: Yes (with a big, silly grin). Some Vitamin Love.

We both laughed so hard we could barely finish the lesson. Who said Japanese can't be funny?

A plain, brown paper wrapper

One of the sights I've come to know and love around Tokyo comes in a plain, brown paper wrapper.

In America, we think of a plain, brown paper wrapper as something that might contain porn. I was suspicious the first time I saw it. Turns out that plain, brown paper wrappers adorn all books sold in Tokyo (and maybe all of Japan—I don't know for sure). The first time I bought a paperback book, the clerk quickly and skillfully folded a plain, brown paper jacket around it and dropped it into a paper bag, which was then dropped into a plastic bag. (Yes, the Japanese are into overkill when it comes to wrapping things!)

After giving this some thought, I realized that many Japanese read books on their daily train rides. While they may have to ride crowded trains, like sardines in tin cans, they apparently want to maintain their privacy when it comes to their reading tastes.

I've also noticed that the books are quite short—maybe only 100 pages or so. If you're an aspiring author who wants to write for Japanese consumption, you would do well to remember the K.I.S.S. rule. I don't see anyone here lugging around huge, 800-page books, no matter how popular they might be in America. Most Americans have cars and don't need to consider how much weight to put into a bag they have to haul around on a shoulder all day.

So, small books in plain, brown paper wrappers, are quite practical.

Now, if only something could be done about the businessmen who carry sleazy newspapers or magazines and insist on reading them in front of everyone—children and old ladies included. One time, in the middle of the afternoon, I saw a businessman sit with his sex-kittens newspaper folded for all to see as he read something on an inside page. A little boy around 7 or 8 years old jumped out of his seat and dashed over to the man, stood in front of him, bent down and had a good look at the newspaper. The man looked up and gave the boy a withering look. He reluctantly went back to his seat, but kept his eyes on the pictures of feminine delights in provocative poses.

Too bad that certain newspapers and magazines don't come in plain, brown paper wrappers.

A matter of curiosity about the world

As I prepare to leave on vacation in 2-1/2 weeks, I can't help noticing some comments from a few students at our learning center. Thankfully, it's only from a few, but it still managed to leave me scratching my head.

This week I asked one young woman, a high school senior, about her extensive travels. She had gone on a two-week home stay in Australia this past September, but had no idea of the name of the city in which she had lived for two weeks! It wasn't a matter of just forgetting the name because of the different names in Japanese and English.

"Well," I said, "could it have been Sydney or Melbourne?"
"I have no idea," she replied.
"Do you remember any landmarks or sites?"
"No."
"What did you do while you were there?"
"Nothing," she replied. "I stayed in my room."

She truly had no interest whatsoever in where she stayed or what she did. I can only imagine how her host family must have felt!

This student traveled to several countries with her parents, yet resented every trip. When I asked her for something—anything—she might have enjoyed about her trip to London, she quickly answered with a smile, "Nothing." I said, "Nothing? Not one single thing?" "No," she said. "I hated all of it."

Even though this may have been a case of teenage rebellion against parents who try to control everything their children do, I found it quite puzzling and sad. Surprisingly, this same student speaks better English than most—including students and adults!

A few years ago some friends had a Japanese teenage girl stay with them for a month and she acted the same way. She stayed in her bedroom as much as possible—even taking her meals to her room to eat alone. When she had to travel to school each day in the car, she never said a word.

Another teacher told me about one of his adult students who said she had just returned from a 5-day trip to Paris. To his horror, she reported that she had sat in her hotel room for the entire five days because it was "too cold to go out."

On the other hand, fortunately, I had another student, a young business man, who told me all about his third trip to Africa where he stayed out in the bush and photographed wildlife. I could tell by the way he spoke how much Africa had impressed him. He was in love with it!

Unlearned lessons

Don't know why, but for some reason I decided to "google" about the Great Hanshin--Kobe--earthquake in 1995 and came across an interesting article by the Japan Policy Research Institute.

While somewhat shocking to read, it didn't come as a real surprise to know that Japan was so ill-equipped to handle such massive destruction. What's even more troubling is that I don't think Japan has learned from their past mishandling of that tragic event.

I'm guessing that Japan is no better than America when it comes to overstating their emergency preparedness. National pride, as well as a multi-layered bureaucracy, can be a country's greatest undoing. The recent hurricanes in Florida and Louisiana proved how difficult it is to handle a crisis of such magnitude. America's bureaucracy is daunting but Japan's is so multi-layered that in an emergency it would be like trying to move a mountain with a pair of chopsticks.

Here's an abbreviated listing of Japan's shortcomings in handling the Kobe earthquake:

1. Overconfidence in the ability to withstand earthquakes.

2. Lack of local preparedness for natural disasters.

3. Ineffectual crisis management in Tokyo.

4. Private companies appeared more able than the government to respond quickly and effectively to the victims' needs.

5. Reluctance to accept aid from abroad.

6. Differential treatment of foreigners.

7. Selective reporting by the mass media.

Yesterday one of the universities where I teach had an "Earthquake Emergency with Fire" drill. Students and staff were asked to use a cell phone call-in system to report their safety. None of my students, nor I, had been given any information about how to use the call-in system. Worse than that, the alarm never sounded in our building.

This was a prime example of how the multi-layered Japanese system will never be able to pull itself together to manage any kind of crisis, especially natural disasters. After the destructive earthquake in Niigata one year ago, it took the Japanese government nearly two weeks to get simple aid such as blankets and water to victims.

This happened despite the Kobe earthquake of 1995 with its supposed "lessons learned."

Trains and more trains

Bored? Looking for some mindless recreation? OK, take a look here. Be sure to click on the "departing melody" for each train track. Japan loves these little jingles and thinks it gets people boarded faster if they hear "fast" music. Every time I hear it, my heart also races faster!

Shake it up, baby

Over the past week we've been doing a whole lot 'a shakin'. Three fairly large earthquakes in fact, measuring 6.5 , 5.8. and 5.5 have occurred within one week. Fortunately, there was no real damage or serious injuries.

I've tried for months to convince my British boss that we should prepare some kind of earthquake plan at work--and volunteered to organize it--but he's reluctant. Turns out he's worried that once we have a plan in effect a large earthquake will inevitably happen. "This is called superstition", I told him.

So, a language school with 22 small classrooms, that teaches several hundred children and adults weekly, must rely on one child's "Earthquake Backpack" filled with one flashlight, some extra batteries, a small box of bandages, and a quart of water.

We have no call-in plan where teachers could call from wherever they happen to be to confirm their safety. We have no instructions about where to go for emergency shelters. We have no CPR or other emergency training. We have rooms and offices loaded to the gills with heavy objects that aren't fastened to the walls or secured in any way. We do, however, have some sort of apparatus in the third-floor teachers' lounge that's supposed to be a hoist to lower people out the window. No one knows how to use it. We've never had any kind of drill or training whatsoever so consider it somewhat worthless in an emergency where we might have to evacuate within minutes--or less.

Japanese seem intractable when it comes to facing the reality of an earthquake. The government makes an annual attempt to convince its citizens and businesses that they should prepare for an earthquake. The reality is that almost no one does.

Think pink

Everywhere I look, I'm seeing pink! Not just on women. That's a given since I would bet that more woman in Japan wear pink than in any other country. Pink shoes. Pink handbags. Pink t-shirts, blouses, skirts, sweaters, bows, and, yes, some of them carry pink dogs or dogs with pink clothing, bows, and toenails.

What has really astonished me, however, is seeing so many men wearing pink. I'm not just talking about the metrosexuals with their manga-style haircuts. Men of all ages are wearing pink. I just saw the Prime Minister, Junichiro Koizumi, wearing a pink shirt as he worked the crowd during his reelection campaign.

Male newscasters are wearing pink sports coats and pink ties. A significant number of my middle-aged male students come to Saturday classes wearing pink polo shirts.

I can't remember ever seeing more than a handful of men in America wearing pink, but maybe the craze has spread there this summer. American men seem to be too macho to feel comfortable wearing pink, I would think. There's also that whole thing about seeming, well, too swishy if you know what I mean. American men seem to worry about that. A lot.

So, am I out of touch with American men, or is this just a Japanese trend?

7.2 earthquake that does very little damage!

A little before noon on August 16, Tokyo shook from an earthquake of magnitude 7.2 that hit about 200 miles away. In Tokyo, even though buildings swayed side to side, it only measured about 5 on the Richter scale. However, it felt quite intense so I grabbed my cell phone and purse and ran from my house.

Amazingly, this earthquake did very little damage in Saitama Prefecture, its epicenter, located in northeastern Japan. Although some 80 people sustained injuries, no one was killed, and there was very little property damage. The worst damage was a collapsed ceiling at a newly-opened swimming center where most of the injuries occurred. There was also a collapsed house with an 80-year-old woman trapped inside who was pulled out uninjured.

The magnitude 7.4 Kobe earthquake in 1995 killed more than 6,400 people and did significant property damage when entire blocks burned to the ground.

Kanto Prefecture (Tokyo is one of its 23 wards) had a 6.0 earthquake on July 24. According to The Yomiuri Shimbun, the "Geographical Survey Institute said it rated the earthquake an 'A-level'--the highest alert level set by the administrative organization." Even so, no one was killed, and very little damage was sustained.

People in Saitama and Kanto Prefectures are feeling very lucky these days. Very lucky indeed.

How to swim upstream

I keep meaning to write in my blog at least weekly, but here it is, almost two months since my last entry. It's not because I can't find anything to write about. Japan, and especially Tokyo, are filled with millions of things to write about! If you lived here a lifetime, you still wouldn't run out of new observations and impressions.

A few days ago I taught a young businessman who was on his third job! By Japanese standards, this is almost unheard of. Despite a somewhat softening trend, employees are hired right out of college and almost always remain with one company until they retire. It's quite unusual to hear about three jobs by around the age of 32. So, I asked my student to explain his career path.

He, like almost all college graduates, was hired just before he graduated. He worked for that company for a few years until he decided he didn't enjoy the type of work he was doing anymore. He felt the need to get more training in a broader range within his field, so he left and joined a foreign company operating in Japan. There, he spent a few more years until he reached the same plateau with his skills. Unable to broaden his skill base while working at that company, he decided to make another move and joined yet another foreign company operating in Japan. Now, he's been with this company a few years, has exponentially broadened his skills, and expects to make yet another switch within the next two years.

Still stunned to hear about this, in a country that values loyalty above almost anything else, I asked him to explain how his employers feel about his "job hopping." Taking a big long breath and exhaling it slowly, he said, "That's why I always go to foreign companies. They understand the importance of broadening my skills. Now, I could never work for a Japanese company."

I asked him to tell me more about that. He said, "I would never fit in with the corporate culture. You must become a loyal member of the company, and because I have switched jobs, I could never be considered a loyal member."

I continued to prod him about that corporate culture, and to explain to me what that meant, especially regarding promotions. He told me that, in Japan, everyone is hired straight out of college at around the age of 22. He went to the whiteboard and drew an explanation of the way the system operates. At the bottom of the chart was the 22-year-old employee (or "member" as Japanese call themselves). Then he wrote "38" above that starting point. "This is the age," he said, "when you can be considered for a promotion to manager." Above that he wrote "48." "This is the age when you can be considered for director."

"Do you mean that age is the deciding factor for promotion?" I asked.

"Yes," he replied.

"What about merit? What if some guy, or gal, is a real hotshot or has an MBA? Does he or she still have to wait until age 38 to be considered for management."

"Yes."

So, this young man has decided to swim upstream, against the indoctrination of his culture which dictates that everyone swims together, side-by-side. He seems aware of his risks, but also feels that he can't go to a job everyday that he hates or that leaves his career stagnating. He's made a conscious decision to better himself, no matter what the risks.

That's why he's so intent on learning English. He knows that his survival depends on working for foreign companies. He accepts that he would never be hired by a Japanese company--even though he has bettered himself and his skills and could offer the company a truly determined and dedicated worker.

Suicide in Japan

Suicide in Japan has risen sharply since 1998 and now the government wants to conduct a five-year study costing 1 billion yen to see what can be done to treat depression. "The studies will focus on treatment for compulsive neurosis, as previous studies have revealed that most people who attempt suicide suffer from the disease."

As an outsider who has talked to hundreds of people, including business executives and high school and college students, I see a certain perspective that always makes me wonder how people cope in such an overcrowded, controlled society. I'm not a sociologist or a psychiatrist. or pretending to know to any depth what makes the Japanese tick, but I do wonder how people manage to live under such tight restrictions.

For example, I've had an opportunity to talk to a number of people about their workplaces, and have actually seen firsthand how they're set up. In most cases, the employees sit at desks without any cubicles, while their bosses sit at desks facing them, all in one big room. I've asked if this made them feel uncomfortable--to be watched every minute by their bosses. Usually they say "no" and wonder how it would be possible to "communicate freely" with their bosses if they weren't sitting so close. Some, however, say they feel tense and nervous all the time.

I've also talked to people about their level of satisfaction with their jobs, and get a shrug with a look of "what else can I expect?" Many of them talk about looking forward to the day they retire so they can "begin their lives."

In all sorts of advertising--from train posters to magazines to TV commercials to T-shirts--there seems to be a dominant theme of having a "happy life." There's so much focus on finding or experiencing a happy life that I'm left to wonder if Japanese lives are so entirely unhappy that they can only think about the day something happens to transform it into a happy life. Consumerism offers an immediate "fix" for millions, but it seems to leave people feeling even unhappier as they discover they can't buy whatever it is that will make them truly happy.

There's also the sense of isolation that Japanese feel, despite living with 120,000 million other people. Cell phones and text messaging seem to replace the intimacy of real conversation.

These are just my observations, and I suppose similar observations could be made in America, but for a nation that's so absorbed in putting a best face forward, it seems sad that so many of those faces belong to people who will kill themselves. Recently, quite a number of people have met in suicide chat rooms on the Internet. It seems strangely ironic that, while they had no friends they could talk to when they felt depressed, they were able to find other depressed people to meet up with for group suicides. Maybe in their last efforts to feel a part of something, they finally found companionship in the suicide pact to die together.

Global warming in Tokyo

It's not even July yet and already Tokyo has set a new highest-ever record as the temperature hit 36.2. For those who are "Celsius impaired," 36.2 translates to 97.16 F, but with the humidity factored in, it felt like 101. Way too hot for June! This doesn't bode well for the rest of summer.

Around the world temperatures are soaring, including in Europe. In 2003 there were over 30,000 deaths in Italy and France due to sustained high temperatures, and there's worry now that another catastrophic heat wave will claim more lives this summer.

Global warming is a reality, not "misguided science," and the U.S. is foolish and shortsighted to withdraw from the Kyoto Accords to reverse global warming. As a nation that uses more fossil fuel than any other country, and that dumps more chemicals into the atmosphere than anyone else, it seems only fitting that we should take more responsibility for cleaning up the mess.

Isn't it amazing how political coffers lined by big polluters' donations have the potential to kill millions of people around the planet? Where's the outrage?

Need some pampering?

For a long time I put off going to a hair salon because I didn't speak Japanese and worried about how I would communicate what I wanted. Then I had a student who was a hair colorist for a salon right next door, so she said she would help me explain what I wanted to a hair "artist."

From the minute I walked into the salon I was treated like royalty! There to greet me at the door were six or seven technicians, stylists, appointment staff, and a shampoo girl (sorry, I don't know what else to call her).

I sat down in the waiting area until both the (English student) colorist and the artist appeared. From there I proceeded to explain what kind of cut I desired, and the colorist interpreted to the artist. This went on for about 20 minutes and then I was led to a locker and dressing room area where I slipped on a gown and stashed my purse.

The shampoo girl took me to the shampoo area and began her magic. I don't know exactly what all was involved because I soon went into an altered state of bliss and comfort. While American shampoo bowls are cold and rigid, this bowl was soft and warm and comfortable. For the next twenty minutes or so I was treated to the best shampoo of my life!

Now, I've gone to upscale salons before, and have paid lots of money to have my makeup ruined by sloppy shampooing. I've also had my head banged against the sink, and variously scalded or iced with water that wasn't delivered at the right temperature. Most of these shampoos have lasted, maybe a minute or two, tops.

Not in Japan. Here a customer is treated to the ultimate luxury. I had a shampoo that was pure pampering, and included water delivered at a perfect temperature and several head massages with each lathering. Then my head was gently towel blotted and my hair combed out in the gentlest manner. There was no wet hair flipped onto my face or comb ripping my ears off.

As I paid for my haircut (around $50), again a bevy of salon workers lined up to bow and thank me for my business. In almost all shops, restaurants and salons, employees accompany the customer to the door (carrying any packages for them), and thank them for their business.

All this stands in stark contrast to what I'm used to in the U.S. I'm feeling very pampered in Tokyo!

A view inside a Japanese man's head

Something's been troubling me about young, married Japanese men. Several times now I've had students who have told me "their wives were expecting" babies at any time. In the United States we've become used to the notion that both parents were expecting the arrival of their child. It's actually not such a big deal that culturally the Japanese still refer to only their wives expecting a baby.

What really has me scratching my head is how often I hear that the father-to-be isn't that involved with the birth of his child(ren). Usually I hear something like this:

Me: So, it must be getting really close to the time for your baby's birth?
Student: Yes, my wife's gone to stay with her parents. (Note: this is often a few hours away)
Me: You mean she's going to go through labor and have the baby without you?
Student: Yes, but I'll go see her on the weekend (presumably after she's had the baby).
Me: You won't be there for your baby's birth?
Student: (With a puzzled look on his face) No, her mother will go to the hospital with her.
Me: Wow! So you'll miss out on your baby's birth?
Student: (Another puzzled look) No, I'll see the baby probably over the weekend.
Me: Yeah, but you won't actually be there when it's born.
Student: No.
Me: Is that because your company won't let you take time off to be with your wife when she's giving birth?
Student: (Yet another puzzled look with a very long "ehhhhhhhhhhh?")
Me: You know, time to be with your wife during the birth and a few days after to help take care of her and the baby?
Student: Well, I could probably take time off from work, but I don't really need to do that because her mother will take care of her and the baby.

Apparently Japan has never heard of the Family Leave Act which allows both new parents to spend time together adjusting to their new life with their baby.

Last night I had another student, a mature business man in his late 40s or early 50s who wanted what's called "free conversation," where we can talk about anything instead of having a regular lesson. We talked about all sorts of topics. Then I happened to bring up the topic of "what is the most exciting thing that every happened to you?" He told me about a time when he was a teenager and got into a fight where his nose was broken.

I told him I was really thinking of something wonderful that had happened, "You know," I said, "like when your children were born." Again, I saw that same strange look come across his face. He was puzzled. I asked him if he was present when his children were born (they're 14 and 5), and he told me the most amazing thing.

"In Japan, to see a woman screaming 'gaaaaaaaaaahhhh' and giving birth, with all that blood and nakedness, destroys a marriage," he said.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked.

"It ruins it for a man," he said.

Still not understanding, I pressed him for more information.

"You never think of your wife as the beautiful woman that you married once you see her that way."

Apparently to validate his story, and to address the stricken expression that must have been on my face, he said, "It's true! There's been a survey that says almost all men who see such a thing later divorce their wives."

The bell rang and class was over.

Weddings Japanese style

Right this very minute, I should be dressed in my finest party duds and celebrating a friend's wedding. I had planned to go to the party--to what would have been my first almost all-Japanese social event. In fact, I had bought a cute little black velvet jacket for the occasion and had figured out what else I would wear with it. My only worry was that I didn't have a warm dressy coat to wear for these bone-chilling, windy evenings.

Then last Monday I casually mentioned to another friend that I was going to a wedding party Friday night. Her eyebrows shot up and she said, "So, you're paying 30,000 yen ($300)?" For a moment, I wondered if I had heard her correctly. Thirty-thousand yen? Granted, I'm decimal-point-impaired, and I've had difficulty sometimes figuring the exchange rate in my head. When I first heard about the party, in my mind I was thinking 3,000 yen ($30), which I thought was fine, even though I've never experienced having to pay to attend a wedding party. In the United States, weddings aren't done that way--at least as far as I know.

When I realized I would have to pay so much money to go to a party for a person I barely knew, I decided that I should reconsider my acceptance, but it wasn't easy. What should I say? Should I tell the truth--that I couldn't afford to pay 30,000 yen--or make up some other excuse? In the end, I decided that I could decline without having to make up a story or give the exact reason. I simply said, "I'm so sorry, but I won't be able to attend your wedding party after all." I didn't elaborate or dig a hole.

While I was extremely honored to have been invited to an almost entirely Japanese party, and looked forward to an opportunity to "see Japan from the inside," I was enormously disappointed that I couldn't attend.

Since Monday, I've discovered that wedding parties have more than one purpose. While they're meant to be a celebration of the wedding, they're also a means for paying for the wedding. As each guest pays the equivalent of $300 to $500, they're helping to defray the costs of the actual wedding. From what I understand, gifts are usually modest because of the high cost of attending the party.

So, while I'm sitting at home in my jammies, there's a wonderful party taking place right this minute that's celebrating the union of a man and a woman in matrimony, and I wish I could be there.

But most of all, I wish Mayuko and her husband a long and joyful life together.

Lumps in the night

For two weeks I've been apartment-sitting for a friend while she's in Singapore and New Zealand. She has two mischievous cats who sleep all day and are quite refreshed by the time I get home around 10pm. That's about the time they start chasing each other around the small apartment--skidding off tables and counters, "cat"-apulting off bookcases, and banging into anything in their path. This usually goes on until around 2am!

The past two years I've been cat-less, for the first time in my life. Even though I love dogs and all creatures, cats hold a special place in my heart. There's just something about their sleek, feline bodies and conniving little minds. . .

Last night I got home around 11:30 and was ready for bed an hour later. As I unfolded the futon and collapsed into the warm down comforter, I laid my head down on the little pillow and felt a hard lump. Lately I've taken to covering the pillow with a small towel to protect it from. . .well. . .cat bottoms. I had forgotten the towel was still there. Without turning on the light, I stuck my hand under it to see what was making the lump and felt something soft and furry. Zelda, the ocicat, had parked her toy mouse there.

I know it was Zelda because that's her kind of humor. She was probably sitting a cat's-tail-length away, waiting for the scenario to unfold, chuckling gleefully to herself as she awaited my reaction.

All her brother Hootie could manage was a disgusted "harrumph" at her cunning ploy for attention.

A baby stroller and a changing table

At first I thought it was strange to see the baby stroller parked by the curb. This is a residential neighborhood with no shops nearby. Yet day after day for almost a week, there it stayed. It wouldn't have been so perplexing if it hadn't been such a new-looking stroller. There was a cheerful cushioned liner to tenderly enfold an infant or toddler, and a matching protective hood hovered above the seat like a celestial ring of Cherubim. What caught my eye was that it appeared never to have been used. Then it was gone.

A day or two later, an equally new-looking wicker baby changing table appeared at the same curb where the stroller had once stood. It was outfitted in, yet again, a luxuriously thick mat. It would have made any baby happy to be changed and dressed on such a lovely table. Below the changing area were two open shelves displaying a matching fabric liner. After a few days, the matching mat and shelf liners disappeared, but the table remains.

If I were teaching a creative writing class, I would ask my students to imagine the story that went with these discarded items. Day after day, I looked at the stroller and changing table. What would prompt someone to set them out by the curb? In Japan, that's where people set their trash, but these were not put in the specified trash area. No, they were set there for someone to claim. But why? Was there no one this individual knew who could have used these two beautiful items? All young couples seem to know other expectant parents. Were they tainted in a way that made them unwanted? Is it possible that the joy of having a newborn was crushed by its tragic death?

I'll never know the answers to these questions.

Weekend warriors

It's easy to see how quite a few people spent the holidays: hurting themselves, probably on the ski slopes. While it's rare to see anyone using crutches in Tokyo, lately I've seen quite a few young guys, and a few girls as well, hobbling along on them. From conversations with some of my students, it sounds like skiing is a once-a-year "hobby" for a lot of them. In other words, they hit the slopes once during the winter, and that earns them their "ski badge." I wonder if those who were injured ever go back to the slopes.

Domino effect

The funniest thing happened yesterday. Well, maybe not for the guy it happened to, but I was bent in half laughing as I watched the event unfold.

As I went through the train station ticket gate and exited the station, I looked up just in time to watch a young guy park his bicycle in the middle of what must have been 100 bicycles. Just as he turned to walk away, he apparently bumped one of the bikes. . .and the domino effect began. One by one, to the guy's horror, bikes began to fall. It all happened so fast that I didn't have time to whip out my new digital camera and take a movie, but the movie's still running in my head.

Amazingly, nobody else seemed to pay any attention. In Japan, people try to avoid embarrassing themselves or others, and I've learned not to offer help, so I just walked away (laughing on the inside).

10-year anniversary of Kobe earthquake

Today marked the 10th anniversary of the "Great Hanshin" earthquake that hit Kobe, Japan on January 17, 1995 at 5:46 a.m. Over 6,400 lives were lost, and countless others affected by the 7.3 quake that leveled much of Kobe.

In solemn ceremonies under rainy, wintry skies, people huddled under umbrellas to light candles for each of those who died. It was a particularly difficult anniversary because of its close proximity to the Indian Ocean tsunami that snuffed out so many lives December 26. People here have been transfixed on that disaster, and feel a compelling need to ensure that such a devastating loss of life never occurs again. This milestone anniversary comes on the heels of that enormous tragedy, and the Japanese psyche is resonating with anguish.

Seattle and Kobe have been sister cities for 48 years. In the Seattle Times today:

Yesterday, at exactly 12:46 p.m., 60 people gathered beneath a cherry tree at Seattle Center to mark the 10th anniversary — to the minute — of the 7.3-magnitude earthquake in Kobe, Japan, that killed 6,433 people. . . At the moment of the anniversary, the crowd lit candles and bowed heads for a minute of silence. Then, led by Seattle Mayor Greg Nickels, each person lined up to ring the bronze 600-pound Kobe Bell, a 1962 World's Fair gift from Kobe to Seattle.

Shortly after the Kobe quake in 1995, nearly 3,000 people came to ring the bell in memory of the dead. The bell rang once for each life lost, and the service lasted for four days.

Even though I don't understand or speak Japanese, I have watched the constant stream of news stories on TV about both the tsunami and Kobe disasters. There have been so many feature stories showing the Kobe aftermath, and it's not hard to imagine the loss of so many lives when so many blocks of businesses, homes and apartments either burned to the ground or collapsed entirely. It must have been a terrifying scene to see firsthand. One of the teachers at work was living in Kobe when the earthquake struck, but fortunately for her, she made it out alive. She said it all felt surreal, and that time seemed to stop for a few moments until she realized what had just happened.

Japan is one of the most active earthquake zones in the world, and there will unquestionably be more earthquakes. Despite that fact, since moving to Japan I've noticed an overall sense of denial about it happening again--that is, until the December tsunami. Maybe that horrific tragedy will prompt Japan to finally work out a viable disaster plan. They need to get better prepared, as the Niigata earthquake in October proved. It took an achingly long time before supplies reached the victims of that earthquake. They were without blankets, food, and shelter for way too many days and weeks. Many families had to live inside their cars, and one-third of those people developed life-threatening blood clots.

It seems that lessons should have been learned from the Kobe earthquake in 1995, but Niigata proved that it's still a situation where the government is ill-prepared to handle such an emergency. Lives are unnecessarily lost when survivors are not reached in time to save them. The government needs more provisions, better planning, and the ability to move quickly in such events. Every minute counts. Every life is precious. How many more earthquakes will it take before Japan is able to respond immediately?

While Japan is on the leading edge for its tsunami early-warning system, not all earthquakes produce tsunami's. It's imperative that disaster preparations are firmly in place so that when an earthquake hits, the government is ready to act in an instant. There needs to be a full-force campaign to get people ready for the next earthquake. Denial time is over.

2005: Seeing with new eyes

I can't believe almost two weeks of my vacation have passed already. The time goes by so quickly! It doesn't seem possible that I'll be going back to Japan in another week. Sometimes I feel lost between two worlds--belonging to neither one. Coming back to the U.S. has made me see with new eyes, and I'm shocked at what I see.

One of the things I see everywhere is obesity. It's staggering! There are so many really, really overweight people, including very young children. Despite all the so-called "low fat" foods and "diet" soft drinks, people are growing bigger and bigger. My own weight had been creeping up for years, even though I eat a healthy diet of fresh vegetables and fish. I blamed my weight gain on too little exercise, which probably was correct since I've lost weight in Japan. All my slacks were suddenly too big and I've had to have them altered. I walk quite a bit now and have more stamina.

The other thing I noticed when I returned to the States is the sheer excess of purchases. Walk into any CostCo or Wal-Mart and see the enormous shopping carts overflowing with goods. This isn't to say that the Japanese wouldn't love to buy even more things, but it's much more difficult to carry things home if you're walking or using the trains. You learn quickly to buy only what you can carry. And another thing, most Japanese houses or apartments are too small to store a lot of extra stuff.

I've felt lost without a car here, and miss the convenience of the trains in Japan. It's a love/hate relationship with them since at times the trains are too crowded, but at other times I feel such relief that they're so available. They make it easy to get around, no matter where you need to go.

In the U.S., people are clogging the highways in their one-person-to-a-car travel, but in most cities around the nation, there's no other choice. Mass transit, except for bus stops that all seem to be located too far away from most neighborhoods, is pathetic in such a rich, industrialized nation. No wonder so many elderly people feel so isolated. How can they maintain an independent lifestyle when they're unable to drive? How can they get to the doctor or, for that matter, the supermarket, when they don't have a car? America is such a strange place, where the government assumes that everyone has the means to be independent. The reality is that there are many millions of people who have no access to public services, even though they need them desperately. In Seattle there's been talk of a "light-rail system" for at least 25 years, yet no difinitive movement in that direction. Too many worries that expensive homes will lose value if light rail moves into their neighborhoods. How shortsighted and selfish. Meanwhile, traffic is snarled in all directions while people curse their commutes.

Coming home for the holidays has been filled with so many emotions. I'm so thankful to have this time with my family, and to be able to hug and hold each other for a little while longer. With the terrible tragedy unfolding in Asia, I'm especiallyg grateful for the time to appreciate the simple things in life: the love of family and friends, good health, a roof over my head and a bed to sleep in. These are the basic needs for anyone, yet for many millions now in Indonesia, Sri Lanka, Sumatra and several other countries, their lives have been turned upside down.

Much to think about in this new year of 2005.

Countdown for trip home!

It's December 15 already! Where did the year go? This has been one of the most exciting years of my life, but I'm ready to go home and spend the holidays with my daughter in the U.S. While I love teaching, it will also be nice to take a break for a few weeks.

My students are so puzzled about Americans and their vacations. They can't understand how we manage to take even two weeks at a time. Rarely does a Japanese worker take more than one week. I've asked them many times about why they take so few days at a time and the usual answer is that they can't leave their work for others to do. It's a custom I can't wrap my brain around, but in Japan people are much more team oriented. If a member of the team is absent, the team falls apart, apparently. It's for this same reason they don't take sick leave when they're really ill. They'll drag themselves to work (or to class!) no matter how sick or hung over they are--all for the sake of "gambatte" (the title of my Web site).

"Gambatte!" is an expression used to encourage others to give it their best, and it's ingrained in the Japanese psyche. Appearance is everything, even if the worker or student is unable to focus on work or the lesson. They think, "well, at least I showed up. Gambatte!"

So, I've wished all my friends here in Tokyo a merry Christmas and a happy New Year and will leave for the U.S. in just a few days. I'm wondering how it will feel to see things from a new perspective. I'm sure everything will look very big to me after living in Tokyo where everything is very small. It will also probably irritate me the first time a store clerk slaps something in a bag and throws it at me--that is, if I can find a clerk to make my purchase. In Japan service reigns supreme and there are "shop girls" everywhere to wait on me, bowing and smiling.

Yes, it will be a big culture shock to go back home where I will once again look short, be ignored by store clerks, and stunned by "personal space."

No mention of Pearl Harbor anniversary

Understandably, there was no mention made here yesterday of the 63rd anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor, or that today, December 8, was the anniversary of the day that the American Congress officially declared war against Japan.

Only once or twice have any of my students even mentioned that there was a war between the United States and Japan. I think all parties seem to want to forget that it ever happened.

As I look around me, I can't imagine that such a thing could have happened, and I can't imagine that there were two devastating atom bombs dropped on civilian populations.

I suppose it's a good thing that both countries have been able to forgive.

Japanese government wants more babies

As hard as it is to believe, Japan is worried about its dwindling population. It currently has one of the lowest birth rates in the world. The decline in Japan's birth rate is so severe they have invented a word for it - 'shoshika', meaning a society without children.

Unless women here start having more babies, the population in Japan is expected to shrink more than 20% by the middle of this century. Nearly half would be elderly, placing impossible burdens on the health and pension systems. -BBC News

While it seems to me that every third woman in Tokyo is either pregnant or pushing a stroller, apparently this is not enough to replace the dwindling population.

According to this morning's Christian Science Monitor, another troubling trend is that educated, career-driven Japanese women do not want Japanese husbands. They're far more interested in marrying American or European men because they believe they're more likely to be treated respectfully, maintain their careers, and have more help at home.

In Japanese culture, women are expected to forego their career once they marry. Even if they manage to keep their jobs, they must be home before their husbands and carry the burden of all housework and childcare. Often, they're also expected to care for their husband's aging parents. With this load to carry, it's no wonder Japanese women prefer marrying Western men.

So, what are Japanese men going to do about this? Will it be possible for them to change enough to woo back Japanese women? In a society where change is measured in centuries rather than decades, it will be interesting to see how quickly this culture can change if they expect to save themselves--quite literally!

Shop 'til you drop

It seems very strange to be shopping for Christmas presents in Japan this year. Last year at this time, I had no idea I'd be living in Tokyo when the next Christmas rolled around.

I've ventured out twice now to shop for gifts to take home when I leave on vacation in a couple of weeks. What do you take to friends and family in America?

One of the places I just had to go to shop was Shibuya. There are Christmas decorations everywhere, and it looked very festive. Even though it was windy today, the temperature wasn't that cold, so it was quite comfortable. Well, that is until I walked into the stores. While it's around 50F (10C) outside, the stores maintain an even 80F (26C) inside, which might be fine for the lightly-dressed shop clerks, but for the people wearing coats, mufflers and gloves, it's unbearably hot.

Even at work, the Japanese staff want to keep the building at 80F, which is their comfort zone but certainly not the comfort zone for most of us who come from other countries. In America, almost all business offices keep their thermostats set at 68F (20C), all year long.

I was happy to get a good part of my shopping completed in only two trips, the one today to Shibuya and Harajuku, and the one last week to Harajuku. Next week I'm going to Shinjuku to shop with another friend who will show me some of her favorite places.

In Harajuku, while walking down one of the narrow streets today, I noticed quite a few people running out of shops carrying t-shirts and marking pens. It seems that somebody famous was shoping there, which stopped traffic everywhere while people asked for autographs. I didn't recognize him, but he looked African-American, was very large, and dressed in a silver-colored jogging suit and baseball cap. I figured he was either an athlete or a rap singer, but don't know for sure.

Harajuku is, so far, one of my favorite places in Tokyo. Its wide, tree-lined streets remind me of cities such as New York or Paris. It's also where I've seen the most foreigners. It seems very beautiful and cosmopolitan, and there are so many interesting shops, including a plethora of retro 80s shops. Remember those leggings I mentioned last summer? Well, I guess they're just part of this hugely popular retro look. I suppose big hair and shoulder pads will soon follow.

Are we in Kansas, Toto?

Typhoon-class winds hit the Tokyo area Saturday night and sleep was impossible because the wind gusts were 90 mph (144 kph) at times. Even the very solid, traditional two-storey Japanese home I now live in shook like a bowl full of jelly. (I thought that was an appropriate simile since it's so close to Christmas!)

None of my windows are double-paned, so the curtains billowed out inside my room, knocking over a small vase of flowers. With each gust I thought the roof would lift off. In the dark, I heard crashing sounds outside, and wondered if I would end up in Kansas by morning. I also worried about the landlady's cats surviving the night because they live outside. One of the teachers at work told me about a cat she found on her eighth-storey balcony one morning after a typhoon hit during the night. The only way the cat could have gotten onto her balcony is if it had been blown up there! Fortunately, the cat survived, and my friend carried it downstairs the next morning.

An inspection of damage the next day revealed about a dozen heavy ceramic roof tiles that had been ripped off the roof and smashed to bits on the ground below. There was also a large steel downspout lying in the backyard, but I was relieved to see that all three cats were fine.

I read that more than 300 airline flights were cancelled and 100 trains brought to a stop.

Everyone says this has been a freaky weather year in Japan, and no one seems to remember a typhoon-class storm hitting in December. Instead of the usual low 50s temperatures for this time of year, yesterday it made it all the way up to 75.7F (24.8C), the warmest December temperature ever, and felt like summer in Seattle. Today, the wind is still howling, and the temperature is expected to be back into the seasonal 50s.

Looking more Japanese?

Strangely enough, I was recently mistaken for a Japanese as I stood on the platform waiting for the train. I heard a woman speaking to me in Japanese, and when I turned around she had the most shocked look on her face! She immediately backed away and darted over to someone who really was Japanese, to ask her question.

The number of redheads in Japan has grown to unbelievable proportions, so why wouldn't I have been mistaken for a Japanese woman? It seems that red hair has now become so popular that it probably outnumbers black hair, at least among women, although it also seems quite popular with young men. And, if not red, there's also the blondes, and one Japanese guy even had blue contact lenses and platinum blonde hair. He looked like an alien!

Observations and ruminations

Lately, as I walk home from work in the evening, I've been seeing the same woman walking her little dog. Following behind the leashed dog is the family cat, which keeps a close pace. What I'm wondering is: which animal is freer, the dog at the end of the owner's leash, or the unleashed cat, following willingly behind?

On another note, the crisp evenings have brought out the sweet potato vendors, pushing their carts through the streets to the musical sound of "Iiiissshhhiiiyaaaakkkkkiiiiiiimmmoooo." They're served piping hot after being baked over hot stones. The aroma--a mixture of sweet and burning--wafts through the small, crowded streets. The carts are usually gone by the time I leave work, so I still haven't had the pleasure of tasting one, but I've heard they're delicious.

Reality check

It's been a while since my last post, as many of you have noticed. While there's plenty to write about Japan, a couple of things have kept me from my keyboard. The first is my work schedule, which sometimes leaves me feeling too exhausted to write. The other reason is that I've been processing so much stuff over the past five months or so that I felt like I just needed some time to step back and look at it from a new perspective.

Most of my first few months in Tokyo were spent trying to get around, find housing, deal with the intense heat, earthquakes and typhoons, adapt to my new job, and adjust to the problematic bureaucratic system here.

The past couple of months, while I wasn't writing in my blog, I've been processing everything I've experienced so far in Japan and trying to decide what to think about it all.

While I never thought it would happen, I think I went through a bit of culture shock recently. Everything about Tokyo really started to get on my nerves and irritated me.

Especially the unnecessary noise.

In a city where there are about 12 million people, there's already enough noise. Trust me. We don't need added noise from such things as pickup trucks driving around neighborhoods with PA systems announcing their desire to acquire your old, used "mini-compus" (computers), CD players, etc.

Then there are the garbage trucks with their own PA system that sounds like a phone ringing, with a recording reminding people that they're picking up trash. On the trucks that don't have a PA system, there's the repeated yell of the trash collectors as the truck backs up to the pile of trash, which sounds something like "OYE OYE OYE OYE OYE" barked out in the loudest voice. What's that about?

Been to the supermarket lately? There's another whole world of noise, especially on weekends! It seems that almost every aisle, and particularly the fresh fish, meat, and produce aisles, have men yelling out the specials of the day. Try walking down the frozen dessert aisle, and you'll hear a boombox advertising "aisu creamu" or something that sounds like that. It seems that no matter which aisle you try, there are boomboxes or shouting clerks everywhere! I want to shout back: can everyone just be quiet? (or worse, depending on my mood at the time)!

Another annoyance is the thriving ambulance business here in Tokyo. Together with the constant police car sirens, it would seem that there are more "emergencies" than people living in Tokyo! Is it really necessary to race through narrow streets, sirens blasting, to deliver an elderly sick person to the hospital? I would think the patient riding inside would suffer more stress and physical harm from the rush to the hospital than from any illness of an emergency nature. UPDATE NOTE: I talked with a medical doctor about the use of ambulances in Tokyo; he said that most ambulance visits are not true emergencies but rather people with fevers! It seems that the government pays for ambulance trips so people use them freely!)

There are also the street vendors selling fresh tofu or hot, grilled sweet potatoes. The tofu vendors use some type of mouth-blown horn to announce themselves as they pull their cart through the streets. The sound is two notes, with the last note higher than the first. The sweet potato vendors have another attention-grabbing pitch, but I seem to have blocked it out at the moment.

Trains are another constant source of noise. They have all sorts of Train Platform Jingles, announcements and other mind-numbing noises--including the intense screeching of wheels as they go around curves. The jingles are irritating in that they always sound so urgent! People are rushed enough, yet the train system seems to think they need to be rushed even more.

But, worst of all I think, are the incredibly nasal shop girls as they hawk outside their shops in the train stations or on busy street corners! Where did they get those voices? They're absolutely eardrum-piercing!

Now that I've gotten some of the unnecessary noisemaking off my chest, I will post a column soon about the unrestrained and unavoidable bureaucracy.

I know that writing about these things is cathartic, and that I will soon grow to love Tokyo again, but for now there are so many things that just make no sense at all. Because I want to remember all the feelings I've experienced while in Japan, I've included them in this blog. It doesn't mean that I'm not having a good time over here. I really am, but in all honesty, I feel I must include those things I've had to confront as a foreigner--the things that can make living here a challenge. To omit them would be to give the impression that everything is perfect here, and it's not. But then no where's perfect, right?

Failure to communicate

Most of the time I have little or no problems with communication, even though I don't speak Japanese. However, there have now been two minor irritations that have left me feeling a little frustrated because I didn't know basic Japanese.

The first incident happened a couple of weeks ago, and it involved buying sushi from the corner vendor that I buy from all the time. Usually an older woman waits on me, but this time she was busy in the back and a man--I'm assuming her husband--waited on me. I had chosen one small package of salmon sushi from the refrigerator case. In bold red letters, I saw what I have now come to recognize as a "sale" sticker saying something about two for one. In this case it was 2 packages for 500 yen. I didn't want to buy 2 packages. Only one. So, I gave a 1000 yen note to the man and he gave me back 250 yen as change. I looked at it and said, "I'm sorry. I'm only buying ONE package, not two, so you owe me 500 yen." He pointed to the "500" that he had rung up on the cash register, even though he had mis-entered the amount, and gestured that I had been given the right change. I picked up the ONE package of sushi and pointed to the bold red Kanji, saying 2 for 1. He resolutely pointed to the cash register where it said 500 yen.

This went back and forth for several attempts. Finally, the older woman happened to look up and saw us through the window to the kitchen area. She came out to assist, and I showed her the 2 for 1 packaging. She knows I always only buy one package. I gestured to show that he had rung up 500 yen instead of 250. She gave the man a withering look, shoved him out of her way, and reached into the till to give me my 250 yen.

Another incident was at the train station where, for some weird reason, the train attendant thought I had tried to cheat the system by not paying my full fare. I had used my pass to travel to a destination beyond what is covered in my pass. However, when I got to my destination, I bought another ticket to cover the remainder that I owed, and used that to pass through the ticket gate. When I returned to the station to reverse my travel, I knew I couldn't use my pass so I went to the window where the ticket agent sold me a one-way ticket. As I attempted to use it to go through the ticket gate, he waved me back over to his window where he showed me the calculator, indicating that I owed him another 150 yen. I said, "I just paid you 150 yen." My reply fell on deaf ears. He hammered at the calculator, as if to demand another 150 yen. I told him, again, that I had already paid for the ticket like 10 seconds ago! You know the expression that all Asians look alike to Americans? Well, I've heard the same thing said about the way Westerners look to Asians, so I figured he had just had an extremely short memory, or could not recognize me again once I left his window the first time.

This disagreement over who had paid what went on for a couple of minutes and then I finally just threw 150 yen at him for another ticket and huffed off, determined not to look back if he decided to call me back yet again. People at work told me that he probably assumed I had tried to cheat the system, even though it was clear when I showed him my pass what I had done. They said next time it happens to just keep walking. They rarely go after people, and especially not Westerners. It might involve too much explaning, and they're terrified of having to try to converse in English.

Learning Kanji: a different perspective

I heard the most interesting comment from one of my students, a middle-aged Japanese business man. I was teaching some vocabulary words in an upper-level class, and happened to ask my student if learning to spell in English was very difficult. He acknowledged that it was, especially with all the exceptions to every rule. I asked him if it was just as difficult learning Kanji , one of the three different Japanese written forms, and the most beautiful and elaborate form. There are somewhere around 50,000 different Kanji characters, and a college graduate should know at least 2,000. It takes a very long time to learn even the required 2,000 Kanji.

This is what he said:

While the Japanese were busy learning Kanji, the Western world passed us by. With only 26 letters you can say everything!

This was a rare insight into the Japanese perspective, and one that I will never forget.

Japan's Mount Asama spewing

Did I mention that we also had a volcano erupt this month? Most people remember the winter 1998 Winter Olympics in Nagano, Japan, a mere 48 kilometers from Mount Asama.

Mt. Asama began erupting September 1, just a few days before our big earthquakes, and continues to spew ash. In one day, there were 183 "volcanic quakes." Scientists said the eruption was unrelated to our large earthquakes just a few days later.

Shake, rattle and roll. . .

Even though I had decided not to write about all the earthquakes in Japan (usually about 1,500 a year!), the past week requires me to make a comment. On September 5th we had two rather large earthquakes , the first occurred around 7pm and measured 6.9 and another one occurred around midnight measuring 7.4. The Kobe earthquake in 1995 measured 7.2 and killed nearly 6,000 people, so I was relieved that these two did so little damage and that there were no deaths. The next few days brought more earthquakes measuring from 5.4 to 6.3. Overall, I think there were six earthquakes this week measuring 5.4 or more.

I've felt numerous aftershocks. Each time I've wondered if this would be the "big one" and have devised a strategy for an escape route from my apartment. Who knows if it would actually work, but at least it's good to try to think things through ahead of time.

I've found that most Japanese people I've talked to about earthquake preparedness don't seem to have much information about how to survive, so I'm writing an article on the topic. If anyone has an idea for where to publish this article, please send me an email. It's loaded with information about fallacies and facts for surviving an earthquake. Everyone needs to read this! I've communicated with the world's leading survival expert and have information that can help save thousands of lives!

Riddle me this

Riddle Me This: When I finish using the ATM machine, I see an animated picture of a man and a woman (dressed in bank uniforms) bowing to me. When I make a purchase in a shop or convenience store, the clerks always fold their hands over at their waistline and make a polite bow. If I give my seat up to an elderly person on the train, they smile and bow with deepest appreciation. So, the puzzle is this: why is it that Japanese people will let a door slam right in your face and make no offer to hold it open until you can either get through it or grab the door yourself? Why is it that they will bang into you while walking without the slightest attempt to apologize? And another thing, why is it that they walk all over the sidewalk or street without making any attempt to stay on "their" side? It reminds me of an ant hill with people walking everywhere, in every direction, with no thought to an organized flow of traffic. For people who are so super-organized about almost everything, I find it very perplexing that trying to walk anywhere is a contact sport and requires me to bob and weave in every direction to stay out of the line of fire.

Legwarmers: These were popular in the early 80s I think, but I'm seeing them on teenage girls now. Usually they're thick white cotton and go up to the knees. The girls are wearing them even on exceedingly hot, muggy days! How can they stand it? Are these a revival of the style worn in Flashdance?

Den-Entoshi Train: Is there some reason why this particular train line doesn't use the AC at all, or only on low? I can't tell you the number of times now that I've had to ride it in the sweltering heat with little or no AC!

Modesty: I find it refreshing that Japanese women are somewhat modest about their summer fashions. In hotter parts of the U.S. women seem to think they're entitled to appear almost nude in public. They wear the shortest shorts and the most revealing tank tops or camisoles imaginable! This summer, despite record-breaking heat, I've rarely seen any Japanese females in shorts, and those that I have seen wear only a more modest version. Usually women here wear slacks, jeans, or long skirts. There's also the fashionable jeans or leggings worn under summer dresses accessorized by the requisite tall, spikey heels.

40 days and 40 nights. . .

Don't mean to harp on the weather in Tokyo this summer, but I read that it's been one of the hottest on record. In fact, for 40 straight days, the temperature was over 30 degrees Celsius or 86 degrees Fahrenheit. Add to that the misery of high humidity, and you can understand why people are fed up with summer. There's talk that the high temperatures will continue into September or posssibly October, but I'm hoping that's not true. Enough is enough!

I feel the earth move under my feet. . .

This time the quake woke me out of a sound sleep at 3:25am. At first I thought my guesthouse had been hit by a truck or other large object, but in a split second, I knew that it was another earthquake.

It was different from the last two earthquakes which felt more like gently rolling waves. This one didn't roll at all, it was just a short, very hard shake. As soon as I realized what was happening, I bolted off my futon and leapt into the relative safety of the doorway to my room. My heart pounded wildly. I felt no aftershocks and, after a few minutes, got back on my futon and wondered if it had been a dream.

The next day I found out that this one was measured at 4.9 by the Japan Meteorological Agency.