There are roughly 50,000 Kanji in existence for the Japanese language; number 50,128 accurately describes the nature of the universe and the purpose behind every action. Unfortunately, no one can read it.
This is closer to the truth than one may realize. Yes, there are technically 50,000 Kanji available for use in Japanese writing, but only the best of the best of the best language scholars would know all of these and how to correctly draw them. I've been told since the computer era, these language experts must be consulted every time a new font is created, to determine if every last character is found to be clear and legible.
Not that it's very likely that someone would even use half of these Kanji. It's a conundrum is what it is: a language in which the masses don't understand more than 50% of the written word. That strikes me as a little odd, and this is coming from the native speaker of the most complicated language on Earth (English is, undisputed - all the small rules).
I was recently talking to one of my educated, well-spoken Japanese friends. Even with a bachelor's degree, a master's, and going for a doctorate, he still only knows about 2,000 Kanji. 4% of the language, and this is common. You might very well meet some people who know up to 20,000 characters (usual length of Japanese dictionaries), but I wouldn't bet on it.
A few hundred Kanji will keep you sane on the streets of any major city. A few thousand will have you reading the newspaper and being considered a literate member of Japanese society. But why is this the case? Let me give you an example:
The Kanji for fish (in general) is 魚. 鰯 - sardine, iwashi 鰈 - turbot, karei 鯱 - killer whale, shachi 鰹 - bonito, katsuo 鯉 - carp, koi 鮪 - tuna, maguro
Look closely at the Kanji for fish and look at the left symbol for these different types of fish. Identical. Even without knowing the specific type of fish (or the correct pronunciation), you have a general idea of the vocabulary family you're dealing with. Kanji is full of these mixed symbols - not every one is entirely original.
With these difficult patterns and the growing trend among Japanese youth (due to technology), I'd really recommend that everyone learn to type Japanese Kanji before writing it by hand. More and more people are, and who are we, if we don't at least try to conform?
In the meantime, I'm off to study the brush stroke order to Hiragana. If you're looking for a skiing job in Japan, this site may help you. Oyasumi nasai.
What stands before us on this calm winter day is nothing other than a scar on the face of this blessed country, a danger to all who come within sight of it. Men are callously, and without warning, slowly moving treacherous bricks on an evil sidewalk. What will we do? Where can we go to escape this menace? Who will save us...?
Japan has the answer. As I was walking to work along a relatively uncrowded street on a wide sidewalk in my quiet little mountain town, I see a little construction going on. No big deal. Clear reflective arrows showing where to go (as if you couldn't see the path). And yet... the city actually hired someone to direct "traffic" through this area.
In a major metropolitan area like Tokyo I suppose I could understand this, if the construction were significant enough and the people passing through numerous. But to have a man in my neck of the woods stand for twelve hours every day, doing nothing more than waving a flag? It's a joke.
An Englishman In Osaka had a recent story about these guys. They definitely are the answer for Japan's low unemployment figures. Them, and the superfluous people you see in the bureaucracy. I guarantee there are thousands of jobs in this country for doing nothing more than pointing people in the right direction.
When I visited China a few years ago I saw a similar approach to putting people to work. Tiananmem Square (天安門廣場) is kept spotlessly clean by dozens of Chinese people whose only job is to pick up every scrap of paper, every toothpick, every piece of kleenex in sight. Effective? Very. Efficient? No, but it certainly is a nice way of maintaining the touristy areas, giving a high opinion of Beijing to international visitors. People will take care of you, regardless of cost, regardless of time-management. Japan has this same hands-on approach.
Otsu kare sama des, construction guides. Save the children.
The future of the train system, maglev, will connect Osaka to Tokyo with an hour commute. Check out the technology. Keep up to date with the Japanese progress here and here.
If you're passing along the Sanyo local line from Hakata to Osaka and want to stop at a good restaurant, check out Watamin-chi. Thirty seconds walk from Saijo Station. Excellent variety, and high quality food. They just opened.
"Running a race in Japan is like dating a foreigner - you may not understand all of the language, but you'll probably get hot and sweaty in the end."
Oh my god, I haven't felt this drained in months... what is wrong with me? I knew I should have done more hill workouts. Who am I kidding? I should have done one hill workout. Is it starting to rain? Ugh... I need energy. I can't let him beat me this time...
Welcome to the thoughts I had one kilometer into the race. I know, I know, it's pathetic. I've tackled Heartbreak Hill in Boston, my high school cross country coach put me through thirty minute hill drills every week, and I ran two half marathons which included sixty degree inclines. Still, I haven't had too many opportunities to do any hill workouts in Japan. The country may be the most mountainous in the world, but I still have trouble walking on anything other than flat surfaces in my typical day (not intentionally, of course).
The Hiroshima Seniors Running Club hosted the Miyajima Cross Country race on this day: November 26th, 2006. A day that will live in infamy. A day when your blogger, arrogant as he was, sought out to beat all his fellow foreigners in trial by speed. I did not succeed on this occasion, but wish me gambatte, and I will try again.
I'm being melodramatic, but it was a good race. The first hill was fairly draining, but the course went through the hills above the famous Torii shrine, and took us past many crowds on their way to pray Sunday morning. As you can see from the map, the first 4.7 kilometers were on the southern side of the island and fairly hilly - once we passed Miyajima Junior High School (starting point) for the second time, it was a long, smooth path to the finish. A little longer than anticipated: 10.7 kilometers.
The weather - overcast, average temperature, drizzling rain. The people - about forty to fifty foreigners in sight, Japanese senior citizens The outlook - Japan just keeps getting better
Miyajima Junior High School Band
Our hosts really treated us well - a covered stretching area that could hold several hundred runners, people guiding you every step of the way, plastic covers to hold the finisher certificates, and ocha (green tea) and Miyajima's unique momiji manju (maple leaf cakes) at a special booth. Otsu kare sama, runners - you deserve it.
College Grads - Teach English, Travel and Save Money!
TEFL (Teaching English as a Foreign Language) is a fantastic opportunity for young and old and for those with and without teaching experience. If you are in or recently graduated from college, then this is an opportunity of a lifetime.
Teaching experience helpful, but not necessary.
Our goal of creating a friendly and intimate learning environment...
The result is that our instructors often learn as much from their students as they teach them...
So you're suddenly drawn to Japan by the various advertisements on Craigslist, newspapers, or company websites. Looks like a really good deal, right? Housing provided, a small but decent salary, and a chance to travel all across the land of the rising sun. To experience a new culture, to live a different life, to meet other souls like you in a different world... all this is absolutely true. You do get to enjoy something few people will ever experience in their lives.
However, when you're researching different English teaching companies in Japan, take a close look at the fine print. There's a reason that these companies take extra measures to "sell" you onto Japan. Interestingly enough, most of the companies in Japan, especially the large eikaiwa schools, don't want you to be a teacher.
No teaching experience necessary... Teaching experience helpful, but not necessary...
More important than your teaching skills in Japan is your appearance. In every sense of the word. I'm not speaking of whether you're attractive or not, rather that you look foreign, and you speak English. Your appearance is your selling point, and your schools will exploit it to no end. Japanese people see a native English-speaking foreigner in a school, and it's a high selling point, knowing they'll get to listen to him.
But who are you? You're not a teacher. You're a foreigner who happens to speak English. Who are you? You're a salesman. Getting the green (or beige over here). Bling bling. Dollar dollar bill ya'll. Your job, despite individual experiences with different management, exists for one purpose only, and it isn't for English education; it's to put money into these companies.
Now, one can argue that this is necessary. Well, of course it is. If you didn't have students, the company would have no money, and you wouldn't have a salary. Of course; it's so simple. But it's far beyond this. You were brought into this country as a teacher. The titles of these ads proclaim: "Teach English in Japan." Nowhere do you see: "Become a professional salesman in Japan and teach English on the side." This is closer to the truth than many of us would like to admit.
You're expected to sell your students materials they don't need just to bring in money. And do you get a commission for these sales? Of course not; you're a "teacher", not a salesman. Or some would have you believe.
A spokesman for one of the large eikaiwa, who chose to remain anonymous, commented on these extra materials: "Of course, even if [the students] are perfect, we must tell them they need to improve, so we can get money... that's not the pretty side of it, but it's true."
Wisdom21, an American-owned English teaching company in Japan, really lets the eikaiwa have it on their homepage:
In the foreign community in Japan, it is common knowledge that the four or five big chain schools are a rip off. To begin with, young and inexperienced foreigners are brought to Japan to "teach" from textbooks. Like instant 'ramen', this do-it-yourself, ready-made teaching brigade hardly receives much worthwhile training. And many of them are not very interested in teaching at all.
Moreover, in order to qualify for a company sponsored working visa, Japanese immigration law requires that westerners restrict their employment activities to English teaching - in spite of any others skills (accounting, computer, etc) they might have.
Meanwhile, the big chain schools, loaded with these new, low cost, under-trained foreigners, attempt to lure their customers into signing long term contracts (usually through a finance company) which generally requires a financial commitment of two or three years. Thus, the student signs the contract and the chain school receives the cash in full (minus a collector's fee, of course) from the finance company. Regardless of whether the lessons are completed or not, the students are stuck with the payments to the finance company.
After receiving the money in full, the chain school no longer has incentive to provide quality service (or lessons!) to the student. Their new incentive is to hope the student quits the school so that another, unsuspecting and naive customer can take their place.
As tragic as this story may sound, this scenario is all too common in the 'Eikaiwa' industry in Japan.
Part of this is simply the Japanese experience - you're expected to go above and beyond stated work criteria: from working overtime, to skipping lunch, to doing things you know your job doesn't "require". It's very deceptive, and I really believe it's intended as such; would you come to Japan if you were told your "teaching" would be limited to a set plan with 1% flexibility, and your "off time" would be filled with selling points and other company necessities? Overall, it's just easier to paint this picture:
Why not spend the next year (or more!) teaching in Japan, skiing the Japanese Alps, exploring Japan (not to mention Thailand, Cambodia, Australia, and China), and eating amazing food all while gaining valuable professional and life experience?
I thought I'd gotten away from this problem, but it seems that even in Japan, certain behavior will never dissipate in schools. People underestimate just how screwed up (yes, I chose that pedestrian word for a reason), kids can get. Don't you remember? Hormones rising, sex everywhere (stressful whether you're having it or not), verbal taunts around every corner, emotions running high, the pains of homework on you every second?
You have the rest of your life to do with as you choose; in those times, all you could see were a few moments ahead. The next time that girl walks by your locker. The class you have with that jerk who you wouldn't mind seeing dead (a few moments, remember... consequences don't exist). The homework you need to finish in ten minutes. The people you try to avoid on a hourly basis so you don't spend the rest of the day hitting yourself, cursing yourself for not coming up with a clever retort, something to make them feel as horrible as you do. Don't sell it short - it's probably one of the most stressful times you will ever experience.
When people call high-schoolers "short-sighted", "immature", or "irrational", they fail to realize that their perspective doesn't matter. We're so different from them we just can't see anything. No one in high school is any of these things... from his point of view.
And apparently this epidemic has hit my new home. There are no school shootings, no bombs, no mass fatalities. If this had been another Columbine story about an oppressed teen lashing out, I probably wouldn't have been as surprised. But these occurrences, and the reaction of those who are supposed to be responsible, are unbelievable.
There have been a string of letters sent out to the education ministry of Japan, followed by successful suicides. All from students who have been alive less than fifteen years, all complaining about the intolerable abuse they received from bullies:
The deaths of these children are tragedies in themselves, but what really upset me was the ministry reaction to these events. Education minister Ibuki Bunmei, after receiving so many suicide notes by mail, informed these victims that they should not send him letters on the grounds that they would "confuse [their] parents." He has since taken a more human role in this, but his reaction seemed to be motivated by public concern rather than empathy for the bullied students.
NEW Seven more letters from people threatening suicide have just been received by the ministry... "Teachers did nothing for me. I may be dead by the time this letter has reached you."
The author of Trans-Pacific Radio posted an excellent write-up regarding this issue. This sheds some light on Ibuki Bunmei's behavior - in this case, implying that the public fiasco, the word spreading across the country, is the problem to be solved. Certainly I have to admit that the media and the administrators reacted in such a way, but I don't think it's the best picture of Japan for those of you outside looking in. It is true that Japanese people will go to great lengths to avoid "inconvenience" for others, not themselves, and sometimes the wires get crossed; instead of dealing with one person's problem, they consider the reaction of this problem by other people. Keeping the peace, so to speak, can result in some deadly consequences.
Mentor and pupil in Japanese culture: Senpai (先輩) and kōhai (後輩), respectively.
I like to talk, but I don't buy into everything I had heard about Japan before I arrived. True, many assumptions I had made about the corporate world were right on, but I haven't seen too many social preconceptions being proven true. Japanese women do love the foreigner for the most part; I don't see too many people eating in the streets, but it's not unheard of; people don't slowly inch away in fear when I sit next to them on a train. I know other people have had different experiences, but I think I'm through buying into every story I've heard. Japan is an open book, and I'll read it page-by-page in the order I observe it.
Also, I should point out - if you're a potential eikaiwa teacher, or someone considering a move to Japan, feel free to send me an email. I've got time to answer a few questions. If you're looking for some more information, this article rings very true.
Fireside Chat Choosing the travel book that's right for you...
"Could I borrow your Frommer's? Oh, here it is. Bratislava. Hmm. Capital of Slovakia. Oh, here's a fun fact: You made out with your sister, man!"
Your Japanese lesson for today: expressing obligation, as in "I need to" or "I have to". Look here.
I have renounced a little of my ranting regarding the blatant Japanese commercialization of Christmas in response to a beautiful Christmas tree in Hondori shopping center, and seeing something very interesting while shopping for xmas presents in Tokyu Hands.
Apparently, in addition to their usual promiscuous garb, the girls in this fair country will be donning sexy Santa costumes. I saw at least three dozen varieties for sale in Tokyu Hands - innocent Santa, seductive Santa, evening gown Santa... it goes on. Think of something similar to the picture below.
How does an American celebrate Thanksgiving in a country which has no turkey, no football, and no Texas Hold 'Em to pass the time? In Hiroshima, a Thanksgiving dinner will be held at Kemby's with all the traditional food. Only one problem - it's too early for those of us with eikaiwa hours. Maybe next year I'll go home. Then again, the part time ¥255,000/month might make that a little difficult.
This Thursday is a national holiday, which may have just happened to coinicide with the American Thanksgiving. I learned that Canada celebrates their version of Thanksgiving in October... interesting. Enjoy this week, and the life you're living while doing it. Remember - you're in charge of the last of the Truffula seeds, because Truffula trees are what everyone needs.
As a reputable member of a Japanese eikaiwa (英会話), I found it somewhat surprising that I was asked to don a Halloween costume in late October for my students' benefit. Is All Hallows' Eve really considered an international holiday? Despite this fact, I saw no harm in playing along for the kodomos' (子供) benefit, as Halloween really doesn't evoke much religious connotation these days. What do you have? Candy, Jack-O-Lanterns, costumes, ghosts, and black cats. What do they mean? Well, honestly... nothing, from any cultural standpoint.
I don't claim to represent the true pagans or gothic worshippers in our time, but I would say with a few exceptions, all the significance has been sucked dry from Halloween. It happens. All we are left with is tried-and-true capitalism. How should you make money in late October, when it's not quite Christmas? Sell candy and expensive costumes. Oh, but how best to do these things? I know: we've got this little holiday that exists for no other reason anymore than to create profit.
Japan is completely cut off from the history of this holiday. The United States and Europe naturally have ties to its origins, but nowadays... it's all about the Benjamins.
Such is the case with Christmas. Less than one percent of the population in Japan follows Christianity (primarily Shinto and Buddhist), yet the entire country sees a sudden and immediate change in decoration around early November. Stores support "Merry Christmas" signs. Wreaths and lights are hung. Red and green are spread as far the Shinkansen can take them.
Why do this? Why bring Christmas to a country that is both geographically and emotionally cut off from the religious aspects? And the simple answer is... money, of course. Now, I don't want to come off as the hypocrit. I know America does the same thing this time of year. Not only that, but we actually bring statements like "the war on Christmas" into the media. But in addition to being more religiously diverse, a majority of the population celebrates Christmas, instead of merely buying into the holiday. About 75% of Americans are Christian.
I suppose there's really no harm done. Children get to have their presents. People can go to the stores for holiday sales. Residents get to enjoy the homely feel of mistletoe and Santa Claus around every corner. Still, this says something about the national pride of Japan; instead of creating more displays and traditions around Shogatsu, they would rather embrace a foreign concept. Halloween, Christmas... let the westernization of Japan permeate every prefecture. Soon we'll see Japanese people eating McDonald's on the run in December after doing some xmas shopping in Parco while singing along to their favorite English song and later enjoying a pint down at the new American-style strip club. Hmmm... this has probably happened already. Gambatte Christmas.
You want a direct correlation between Japan and Christmas? Fine - apparently Jesus was buried near Aomori. This was the strangest story I'd ever heard.
Side note: many people in Japan travel to the southern island Okinawa during the winter holidays, including Shogatsu, to escape the cold mountain weather. Although Okinawa is equally as popular during the Golden Week holiday, you run the risk of rain. I've been contemplating as to whether I should take a ferry from Kagoshima to Okinawa as an alternative route. The ferry system in Japan is just as developed as JR; as long as you leave in a reasonable-sized town on the coast, chances are you've got a port. Hiroshima to Matsuyama. Matsuyama to Kyushu. Kobe to Imabari. Get connected.
Your daily Japanese expression Osaki ni shitsurei shimas "Excuse me for leaving first" - commonly said in business if leaving before a co-worker or manager. As we eikaiwa workers don't like to work late hours to maintain the façade of overtime, you can expect to use this often.
I'm sitting, exhausted and beat down after a full day at the eikaiwa, going through a "mandatory" company outing: a co-worker's birthday. At least I can relax with some food, drink, and conversation after four straight classes. I accept a slice of pizza, then...
"Turner-sensei, would you like some cake?"
"Iie, kekko des."
"Are you making a joke, Turner?"
"Kekko des" in Japanese means "no thank you", but it is pronounced like "cake-o". I have unwittingly become part of the Japanese humor ring. The language supports many deep proverbs and subtle meanings, but as of yet, I have found the most common humor in Japan includes plays on words; in all likelihood, this is one reason Japanese people have a difficult time understanding English jokes - without perfect understanding of the language, from pronunciation to definition, these elements are lost on them. Let me give you an example: some common Japanese anecdotes.
A farmer runs up to another farmer with a mouse inverted in the palm of his hand. "Look at the big mouse I just caught!" he said. The other farmer says, "He's not so big; I can see his tail." "No, no, okii da!", the first farmer replies. "Chiisai da." "Okii da!" "Chiisai da!" "Okii da!" Finally, the mouse says, "Chuu, chuu!" (Chuu in Japanese means middle-sized; but also, "chuu" is what Japanese mice say instead of "Squeak, squeak.")
Instead of saying "oyasumi nasai" (good night), say "oyasu miruku" (cheap milk).
I have heard Japanese friends recite sophisticated and thought-provoking jokes before, but in general, I would say these types, wordplays, are much more common. Where they might receive a smile or small chuckle in America, in Japan they are found to be just as humorous as late night TV. This isn't even necessarily limited to humor, either; remember the reason that the number four is feared as a superstition.
I never realized it before, but since I've been in Hiroshima, I haven't had more than a few days with clear views of the mountains. Although Japan is quite possibly the most mountainous country in the world, the major cities are built on flat areas. With the haze that comes in all summer, you never feel like you're living in a topographical nightmare - all you see are the flat streets and a white mist covering the sky. This is a sharp contrast to Alaska, where I woke up each day to see blue sky, brown trees, green mountains piercing in every direction.
Denki, electricity 電気, read as でんき ki is also found in... Genki 元気 Similar to... rai, thunder, 雷 So 電気, in some ways, means "electrical spirit" Linked from here - good Kanji site.
It's a little surreal to have visited the point of my arrival in Japan. I've visited many places in Chugoku more than once, but none of them quite had the same effect as returning to Okayama, my entry point into my current home. Memories come flooding, feelings surface, and I realized that I'm infinitely more comfortable in Japan that I had been when I was first thrust into the Shinkansen and put through the ordeal of eikaiwa training.
I remember what it was like to be home... but even for my excellent synapses, those memories are slowly floating down the river as each new dawn approaches. I know homes are meant to have a dishwasher and oven... I know that, but I've become accustomed to doing without. I remember plastic containers for milk and orange juice, that somehow these containers extended shelf life and ensured a purer taste. I can recall when I didn't eat rice for months at a time; yet here I always enjoy the soothing presence of my rice cooker. Steadfast, truthworthy, reliable.
I can still imagine a world of steak sliced larger than a pancake's width, cities with no karaoke bars within sight, English on every sign and spoken by all... well, I could still be talking about Japan; they are really open to English.
Nevertheless, this is my home now. My contract with my eikaiwa will end by next June at the latest, and I am searching for work in the greater Tokyo area following its completion. Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your help, as I try to help you understand this country of ours. I'm not here to be a foreign novelty to the citizens. I'm not here to criticize cultural difference - rather, enlighten others about them. I'm here to live, to live my life as I would in any other place on Earth. This is no different for me than moving to a new city in the US, starting a life, and moving forward. Japan is just as much an opportunity as I could ever find.
I'll have to keep these things in mind as I return home for the holidays... my first visit back as a Japanophile. I know it'll feel like I never left. I know I'll splurge on fully American experiences, and soak up everything I missed. But it's a visit, a glimpse. Nothing more. What you leave behind isn't as important as how you lived your life.
I have to admit, as a final note - I may just walk up to random people and start shouting at them in English, just for the thrill.
Random Cultural Experiment Want to try something unique? Start jamming on a shofar - they really should be used more than twice a year. No, I'm not Jewish. Just enjoy messing with my readers minds. That, and I think I heard a shofar band parody on Conan O'Brien.
I know the American political world is in a state of upheaval, but I'm not an American. I'm a gaikokujin. Welcome to the Japanese world, wandering souls.
I've touched upon workplace behavior - genkiness, overtime (zangyou), work ethic - before, but obviously, I'm only scratching the surface; there's so much that I don't know about, or some things I'm aware of but have not yet fully understood. The business world in Japan is just as much a culture shock as entering the country itself.
"The Japanese have a saying: fix the problem, not the blame. In American organizations it's all about who f****d up. Whose head will roll. In Japanese organizations it's about what's f****d up. and how to fix it. Nobody gets blamed. Their way is better." Michael Crichton, Rising Sun
You're an American. You've traveled to Japan to work in a law firm in Tokyo. It's been a few weeks, and you're starting to become friendly with your co-workers, your manager, and learning to be comfortable with your work environment. Today, instead of arriving to work early, as you usually do, you stop for a leisurely cup of coffee and enjoy people watching on the streets of Tokyo - definitely entertaining.
You had come into work early on previous occasions to make a good first impression with your manager, but today, after a few weeks, you feel as though you should get into a comfortable, relaxed routine and start conforming to the standard 9-5 hours.
You arrive at 8:59, and your manager is waiting for you at the door. He looks furious.
"Why are you late, Turner-san?"
What just happened? Should you feel guilty? I prefer to think of working in Japan as working as an actor in Los Angeles. Three basic rules:
If you're early, you're on time. If you're on time, you're late. If you're late, you're fired.
The Japanese are notoriously strict on time management, especially when dealing with workers. Although this might hardly be a surprise to anyone, as most people, including Americans, understand they should come in a few minutes early, the solution is not quite as obvious.
A simple apology works wonders, but the conditions must be right. You cannot simple utter a quick "gomen nasai" or "I'm sorry" and hurry along to your desk. No, this is a performance, a show your manager observes with all of his senses. Maintain eye contact. Tell him you are truly sorry for the inconvenience, and it will never happen again. Bow slightly. Lower your eyes. Do whatever you believe is necessary to humble yourself in your superior's eyes. Doesn't matter if it's true or not. Your manager doesn't want to be angry at you, believe it or not - he just wants your reassurance, and the problem of lateness fixed. If he asks why you were late, tell only the truth, as a lie will just make the situation worse. You're allowed to smile or laugh slightly after the apology; this action tells Japanese managers that you are ready to put this situation behind you and get back to genki workplace behavior.
This situation, among others, is the principal reason Americans have trouble working in Japan. By Japanese standards, westerners, especially Americans, are among the most arrogant, conceited people on Earth. It's not something we do knowingly; we were just raised according to a different code of conduct. We believe apologies are necessary at times, but many people see them as lowering yourself. Japanese people are willing to do this. Americans may, but probably won't be as happy about it. Humbleness, Keigo, considering others' time as infinitely more important than your own (stress on infinitely)... we weren't brought up with these ideas.
You're definitely a stereotypical westerner in Japan if:
1. You don't apologize often 2. You don't present omiyage (gifts) as an apology or returned favor 3. You believe your way is the best, and refuse to consider other options 4. Your comments are considered too direct (e.g. instead of asking "should I...?" or "shouldn't I...?" you simply make your case, and invite others to contradict you - not the Japanese way) 5. You refuse to clean the office. In Japan, very few small companies or schools have complete maintainance service. Employees and students are often asked to stay late to clean carpets, bathrooms, whiteboards, dust, etc. It's quite common.
Sometimes being the center of attention in a foreign country can work to your advantage. Although I am often treated with the same respect and nonchalance as a Japanese citizen in public, I also find myself pulled into conversations with random foreign-doting crowds. All it takes is a glance, a smile, a nod, or even a defiant refusal to look in their direction, and suddenly some people believe I would enjoy spending my time teaching them English during my off-hours.
Other times, however, the people I encounter are merely curious and want to know more about me (and I them), so I usually indulge them, and learn more about the customs in the land of the rising sun. Who are these people. What are they thinking. What goes on that foreigners don't know about. These are worthy questions. Answers that I have learned, all with conversations on a train.
"No one has touched me in a long time."
I didn't mean to drop a piece of chocolate on her leg, but instead of flinching back in response to a random foreign man grabbing her, she just giggled, completely unphased. We met on the platform and had been speaking in fractured English for a few minutes.
"What do you mean, aren't you married?"
"Yes, but in Japan, being married is different. I have no kids. I need man to touch and comfort me. I have no boyfriend right now."
"Would you tell him you were married?"
"Maybe... sometimes, it's secret. How about you? You handsome man, you have girl for Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday...?"
I didn't really want to get into specifics about my desire to have something more than just a physical relationship, so I just told her I hadn't met anyone I liked. But her information intrigued me...
My first impression of Japanese women was based entirely on a foreign friend's Japanese girlfriend. He told me he wouldn't have been surprised in the least if she was cheating on him. Fidelity isn't exactly typical here, especially when you're dealing with young women who make it a mission to go after foreign men.
But what about marriage? Although I've never been inside, I've heard about the goings-on of the Japanese hostess clubs. Men come there mainly to be heard and respected, because their wives don't listen to them and don't tell their husbands they like their ideas. This is the first time I've heard from the other side of the coin; are both typical husband and wife in Japan looking elsewhere for needs that should be satisified by marriage? I may be an outsider, but I don't understand.
"Oh no, my husband don't speak Japanese."
"Oh, he's foreign? Is he American?"
"No, he Romanian."
"Oh, you speak Romanian?"
(Awkward pause while I struggle to figure this out)
"Ummm... how do you talk to each other?"
"We speak in English."
This definitely sparked a moment of insight for me. Although I understand there are thousands, if not millions, of interracial couples across the world, I always assumed at least one of the partners was speaking his/her first language. Apparently this is not necessarily the case, as the evidence from Japan Railways would lead me.
An English-only relationship where neither of the participants is a native English speaker. That must be unique. I could understand this for a very casual relationship - a Japanese girl dating a French man, for example - but for marriage? Shouldn't one of them make the effort so at least one of them isn't inconvenienced? Isn't that the Japanese way? Fix the problem, don't assign the blame.
I spoke to this woman for twenty minutes. Her English was decent, to be sure, but I hardly thought she could handle a serious conversation with useful vocabulary or necessary grammar. Is her husband the same way? This may go back to the standards on marriage, especially when a Japanese woman is involved, but I don't think so. She seemed perfectly normal and content with her place. Regardless of how they met, how their relationship developed, feelings are forces more powerful than anything we can communicate with words. Holding a hand, looking into someone's eyes, letting them cry on your shoulder... these actions will always speak louder than words in any language.
Foreigner connectivity is equally as common. I've struck up random conversations with foreigners on trains from Fukuoka to Matsuyama, and later had the opportunity to meet them in another station. This must happen quite a bit in Japan - seeing a friend entering a train as you depart, neither of you able to exchange more than a few words due to the efficiency of the Japanese rail. Even when I'm not the instigator of these dialogues, you get the impression they want to talk to you; one way or another, you're meeting new people.
Diverse hoi polloi Physical, emotional The connecting train
As fast as Lance Armstrong ... as long as there's not a bike involved. Lance Armstrong made his debut in the New York City Marathon, finishing in two hours, fifty nine minutes, and thirty six seconds. Full story here.
In the meantime, before I endeavor to match Lance's biking record, I'll stick with adventures a little closer to reality. Aki-no-Kofuji, sometimes referred to as Hiroshima's Mt. Fuji (Aki is the old name for Hiroshima), looms over the bay like a giant onigiri was somehow dropped onto one of the neighboring islands. The mountain is located on Ninoshima, one of the smaller islands just south of Hiroshima Port.
To access this island, take the #5 tram from Hiroshima Station, then go to platform #5 at Hiroshima Port. A roundtrip ticket (and you'll need one; you don't want to spend the night on this island) will cost you ¥760.
Other than the mountain, there is little to nothing else on the island. To me, this is a completely different culture - true, I grew up in a landlocked area, so I'm not familiar with life on the east coast. Taking the ferry to Staten Island, going to a private residence off the coast of Boston... people do this kind of thing regularly. Japan even more so. All these small islands in the Hiroshima area are inhabited by people who commute to the city daily. Even on an island like Miyajima, there are schools, homes, restaurants, public facilities, etc. Ferries capable of carrying hundreds of people and their cars (well, a dozen cars) are quite common.
This is the environment you're walking into once you disembark at Ninoshima Port. It's a small town, connected only by one small boat. Yet there are children playing in the streets, women walking to the store, old men greeting me as they fish... very nice, and very rustic.
To get a nice overview of this area, follow the signs. Take a left as you leave the dock, and you'll run right into a marker like this one:
It's a straight shot from that point on. I should point out once you're starting to clear the town, and the path forks for the first time just past a garden, it seems like the best choice would be right, as the northern path is overgrown and unclear. Yet you should go left - it clears up in about fifteen minutes. Just wear long pants, and watch out for kumo (spiders). They will try to eat you.
Once you do reach the top in about an hour, you get a nice view of Hiroshima and the surrounding islands:
I'd really recommend a night viewing on Aki-no-Kofuji, as the lights of Hiroshima would be incredible from this location. But... it's not the best trail to attempt in the dark, ascending or descending. You could bring a flashlight for the descent, just be careful. You are really cut off from civilization, and the last ferry to Hiroshima leaves at 8 PM.
The Miyajima race is a go thanks to some ingenuity on my part. Come out and join me on November 26th when the autumnal leaves are at their brightest.
Here it is, your moment of literary confusion:
Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe; All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe.
How to escape a Japanese Gideon... Japanese approach - bow slightly, accept his pamphlet, and say "arigatou gozaimasu" Liberal American approach - yell loudly about his intention to subject others to his beliefs, rather than letting them discover everything on their own path Scary foreigner approach - chew and swallow the paper without a word - he'll never bother you again
It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas in Japan, and the Gideons are swarming about like locusts. Amazing, I would have thought that would be one thing I'd be guaranteed to escape in Japan...
Walking down Hondori Street in Hiroshima, I had a foreign looking man step directly into my path and ask loudly, "Do you speak English?" Not wanting to give anything away, I accepted the paper he was offering (it might have been a free coupon, for all I knew) and continued to walk. He pursued, which was somewhat unusual.
"Have you considered letting Jesus into your life?"
At this point the wear and tear of climbing a mountain earlier in the day really took its toll - here I was, a foreigner in a prime opportunity to stick it to all missionaries by providing a nice international retort... yet, that didn't happen this time. I continued walking and pretended he was something loathsome. Instead, I should have said, "I live in Japan, buddy; I have a hard enough time letting natto into my stomach. Baka."
Nevertheless, despite my hatred for Gideons, Jehovah's Witnesses, and everything they stand for (well, not the beliefs, just the fact that they believe they need to "sell" them), Japan is starting to look a lot more Christmasy. Right after Halloween the ad campaign began.
Japan is primarly a Buddhist society, though it is relatively religiously diverse. But Christmas, like Halloween, means absolutely nothing to a Japanese person. It's just a holiday, like any other. Another excuse to party. An excuse to buy expensive gifts. An excuse to decorate. I would say this is true for many Christians as well, but why even bring the holiday to Japan?
The answer... is simply taking advantage of a consumer society. Give them a symbol, an image to work around. Christmas will do. Halloween will as well. I may be writing an in-depth article on this for Fukuoka Now, so I'll hold off on major details. Nevertheless, Japan is exploiting Christmas, as it exploits so many foreign ideas.
The day I ran the Peace Marathon in Hiroshima was a national holiday - Culture Day (文化の日). Read more about it here.
"It's more than just a race, it's a style. It's doing something better than anyone else. It's being creative." - Steve Prefontaine
Hiroshima Peace Marathon My first Japanese racing experience. Quite a benchmark for someone who has been marketing himself as a "Gaijin on the Run" for the past five months. Nevertheless, I competed with distinction and honor. Well, as much honor as one can have calling himself a gaijin.
At this point I should point out that I'm an idiot. I looked at the racing flyers, I read the map, and for some reason I convinced myself that the starting line was at Hiroshima Baseball Stadium, not Hiroshima Stadium in the middle of Hiroshima Prefectural Sports Park. As such, when the tram dropped me off near Sogo shopping center, I assumed I had a leisurely ninety minutes to warm up, stretch, and enjoy running talk with fellow gaikokujin... how wrong I was.
I spent the next hour searching for the correct starting line, wondering if I would make it on time, and telling myself that I should just give up. Luckily I don't quit that easily. If I could wait in line for a restroom for an hour before the Boston Marathon, I could walk a few kilometers to run my first Japanese 10k. Eventually I did locate the stadium by chance, after hearing the racing announcer on loudspeaker. Lucky break.
Check in was at the foot of the stadium near the running track. The whole place was filled with runners doing sprints, warm ups, stretches, and just relaxing. I was supposed to have checked in before 10:50; fortunately the typical Japanese standards of lateness didn't apply to getting bib numbers. I received mine without causing too much inconvenience.
Already I was looking for some international differences in racing... there weren't too many. Bib numbers were required to be worn on both front and back, but that could just be for this particular race. Time chips were the same design, also worn on the feet. Everyone was dressed roughly the same way, same pre-race routines. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Naturally, I was running a little behind schedule. I barely had time to slip off my warm-ups, apply suncreen, attach the racing numbers, and stretch before 12:20, the official start time. There weren't too many convenient places to store my bag, so I had to settle with hiding it under a wooden sign stand. I later learned GetHiroshima would have happily taken it under their tent. Bag safety, at races, train stations, or otherwise, has been a growing concern lately; things aren't as safe out in the open as they used to be. Is this the result of foreign influence?
I was already soaked from sweat, having walked from the city proper to get here. I hadn't hydrated as much as I would have liked. But, my legs were strong, my muscles loose, and my resolve firm. My T-shirt on my back, I set myself out ahead of the pack. There might have been 500-600 runners in the 10k.
One major difference (besides the fact I couldn't understand "on your mark, get set..."): no gunshot start. Not even a whistle. Just the announcer saying "Go!" Not really an issue, though, as I was keeping my eyes peeled for foreigners whom I might like to pace off of. There might have been a dozen or more in the 10k. I think I beat them all.
The first half (5k) was no problem - never got passed, and took on about a hundred people. Got them all. There were no water stops and no kilometer markers until the turnaround point, however. Once we did head back for the finish, there were stops and markers at every kilometer. No Gatorade or energy drinks, just water. Still, it was reasonably well organized, given the amount of people competing. Lots of fanfare shouting "gambatte" (good for cheering on at an athletic event), even people I didn't know. You even had the practicing-English crowd yelling "Go! Go!"
It could have been colder than day. The sun wasn't really baking me as there was a nice breeze, but still, probably drained me more than I care to admit. No negative splits this time. Maybe 2-3 people passed me and stayed within eyeshot until the finish; I suppose I could have caught them, but once I saw I wasn't going to win, I just wanted to take it easy and not stop. Reduced to this... a marathon runner actually considering stopping during a measly 10k. Still... I do that at all my races. I'm probably one of many people who questions his sanity at the start of every race. We always feel better about it afterwards.
Beautiful views - the first and last kilometers take you across one of the inlets and give you a great view of west Hiroshima. Highly recommended running path if you live out there. Once my legs starting throbbing and my forehead decided to warm up, I decided it was time to end this thing. I throttled in to the finish for a nice 39:21 clock time, 39:04 chip time. Otsu kare sama des. That's about a 6:17 mpm (minutes per mile) pace.
Kudos to the students of Hiroshima International School - I think they all ran the 5k, and stuck around the finish line to cheer on the foreign runners. Thank you. I'll return the favor someday. After the finish, chips were collected, winners' certificates printed on the spot, and award bags distributed.
My special thanks to the people of GetHiroshima and David Koerner, who was offering free post-race massage therapy. GH (GetHiroshima) had a tent set up with free towels, Gatorade, and English conversation. Good people.
Where you might expect some protein boost in the form of sausage back home, in Japan... ramen, yakitori, dessert crepes, and carbonated beverages. No complaints here. They did have the standard free yogurt for entrants, though.
That's my report on your typical Japanese race. I never realized it before, but you don't really need to listen to anyone (announcer or otherwise) during the warm up, race, and cool down, so it's especially good for someone like me, who needs to improve his listening skills. What's next? Running across Miyajima, and looking into the Osaka Marathon.
Thank you heroes. Wish me well, and I will do the same for you.