Just Another Day May 31, 2007
Posted by Kristen in Tokyo Adventures.1 comment so far
My advisor at Wellesley had a favorite saying: “Everything is either trivial or impossible. If you know how to do it, it’s trivial; if you don’t know how to do it, it’s impossible.” Of course, Prof. Hirschhorn was talking about incredibly difficult theoretical mathematical proofs. But the saying comes back to me so frequently that I believe it really applies to just about everything new we encounter.
And so it is with life in Japan. Everything starts out impossible. But if you can deal with that, you just might find that it gradually becomes trivial.
Today I had an adventure full of impossibles.
I met Mark for lunch and planned to do some shopping afterwards. I thought I would go by bicycle to give myself more flexibility and explore the city a little. I knew I could get to his office in 10-15 minutes, and then from there to Shibuya in 10-15 more. Going to Shibuya is one of my regular reminders of how small New York is in comparison with Tokyo. Like Times Square on steroids, Shibuya is one of the many big, crowded commerical areas dotted around the city. It is centered around a commuter rail station, crammed with departments stores and shops, dotted with neon and an enormous video screen. The streets come out in a star from the station and it is easy for someone like me (with little sense of direction) to get lost. It’s also very crowded. I have been there several times by train but never by bicycle. I’m not sure why I thought this would be a good idea, but it seemed worth a try.
Here’s what Shibuya Crossing looks like at night; it’s just about this crowded during the day.
I knew it might be a challenge to park my bicycle. Lots of people travel by bicycle in Tokyo, but it seems to be illegal to park your bike almost anywhere on the sidewalk. Everyone does it anyway. The police do routinely ticket illegally parked bikes and even cart them away, so there is some risk. I still can’t figure out where it’s okay to park. When I got to Shibuya today, however, I found an actual bicycle parking area. So I put my bike into one of the slots and locked it up. Then I saw that there was a machine to pay for the parking. Okay, kind of a drag to have to pay, but no big deal, I thought. Except for this: the machine was labelled only in Japanese. I had no idea how to use it. So I decided to go back and remove my bicycle. But when I tried to take it out of the slot, I found it was locked. Then I realized that you would have to pay in order to remove your bicycle. But of course I couldn’t pay because I couldn’t read the machine. Hmmm. I stood around for a bit, hoping someone else would come and park their bicycle so I could see what to do. Then I stood around a bit more, trying to look vaguely confused and helpless, hoping someone would offer to help (this often works). No luck. Then I called Noriko to ask if she knew how to use this kind of machine (maybe it was very common, I thought, and everyone would know how to use it). Unfortunately, she had never used one before. And then, of course, I couldn’t read the instructions to her for me to translate because, and this is the thing that I just can’t get over . . .
I AM ILLITERATE.
Yup, that’s me. Competent, intelligent, well-educated; yet I can’t read or write in my host country. A very strange and unsettling fact, which is unlikely to change anytime soon.
So anyway, back to my adventure. I did the only thing possible, which was to walk away and go on with my errands, hoping that when I returned I’d be able to find someone to help me. As I walked away I wondered: would I be able to find my way back here again? Could I possibly remember in this urban maze where I parked my bike? All I could do was check for a landmark or two and hope for the best.
Next, I went in search of Bic Camera again. This is the same store I was looking for when I got lost in Shibuya the first time back in December. This time I thought I’d look for the main store instead of the smaller, older branch I’d gone to before. I thought it would be bigger and easier to find. It still took me a long time to find it. When I finally noticed it, I realized it was the biggest store on the corner of the main street that I had looked at 10 times. This time I knew it would be labelled in Japanese, and I knew what the katakana letters looked like. It is just so very strange to read symbols and letters that are not Roman characters that I still often miss the obvious even when it’s right in front of my nose.
In the store, I was looking for a specific kind of cable to hook up the new TV in the bedroom. I couldn’t find it, so I asked a salesman for help. He didn’t know what I was looking for. Eventually, we each took out our cell phones to call for translation help. At one point, I was talking to his colleague in English and he was talking to Noriko in Japanese. Though we still didn’t manage to communicate much, it seemed clear that they didn’t have the cable. Strike 2.
Next stop, Citibank, to pay a bill. There are two ways to pay bills here in Japan: in person, in cash; or by bank transfer. No checks in the mail. To do a bank transfer, you have to go to the bank and either fill out a form with the teller or enter the information in the ATM. In general Citibank is pretty friendly to English-speaking customers and the ATM’s have menus in English for the basic transactions like withdrawals and balance inquiries. Not so for the bank transfer function, however. That is only in Japanese. So in order to pay a bill, I have to go the bank during regular banking hours and ask a bank employee to help me enter the information into the ATM. Today I got to the bank at 3:15, only to find that the branch closed at 3:00. So there I was again, with all the tools available to accomplish the task I needed, yet unable to use them. Because, of course, I can’t read. Strike 3.
At this point I just wanted to go shopping and buy something, anything at all. Last time I had an impossible day I came home with a waffle maker. This time, I very nearly came home with an ice cream maker (but it was a very silly bright red thing made by DeLonghi in cooperatin with Disney, and it cost about $100). I contented myself with a small canvas shoulder bag to hold all the extra stuff I seem to be always carting around. (I’m still longing for an ice cream maker, however, so I can have something other than vanilla, green tea, rum raisin or mediocre chocolate flavors!)
Finally, it was time to go back and face the bicycle challenge. I found my way back to the station and then, somewhat to my surprise, back around to the bicycle parking area. And as I had hoped, this time there was someone standing around whom I could ask for help. The machine turned out to be ridiculously simple: you enter the number of the slot where your bike is parked, then push a button. The display tells you to insert 100 yen; you put in your coin, and then you can pull your bicycle back out.
Just like Mr. Hirschhorn said: if you know how to do it, it’s trivial.
And then, I even found my way home without getting lost. (I did have one further scare, however, as the sky darkened and looked terribly threatening. Why didn’t I think to put in a raincoat? Luckily, I beat the storm home. Whew!)
Even after 8 months, it seems that I still regularly find myself in situations that are completely unfamiliar and appear impossible. I thought that I would gradually learn how things work and then I would be able to do whatever I need to without getting stuck. But now I think it will take a very long time to get to that point. In the meantime, however, I find that I am learning something even more valuable: being in a completely unfamiliar situation and not knowing what to do is actually okay. I can just ride the wave of anxiety, slow down, look at the situation, and do whatever I know how to do. I have a cell phone and know how to use the trains, so I can never be completely lost. And I am surprised to find that it’s kind of liberating to be able to face an impossible situation and, in a very normal and mundane way, without any brilliant flashes of insight, work your way out.
Of course, it sure helps to come home to mediocre chocolate ice cream and an episode of Grey’s Anatomy downloaded from iTunes!
Gaijin-san May 23, 2007
Posted by Kristen in Tokyo Adventures.add a comment
Today I planned to meet my friend Heather to go to a Japanese crafts store in a neighborhood that was unfamiliar to both of us. We agreed to meet at the subway station, but didn’t know exactly where to find each other since we didn’t know the layout of the station. Heather found the name of one exit and suggested we meet there.
When I got to the station, I went to the exit where I thought we were supposed to meet (though I wasn’t entirely sure since the names didn’t match exactly). I went up both escalators and out onto the street, but I didn’t see here there. I looked around a bit, checked my watch, and read the name of the exit again. Then I decided to call her on her cell phone. I listened to the voicemail greeting in Japanese, caught the words “name” and “phone number”, hoped I had the right number, and left a message. Just as I was finishing up, a 50-ish Japanese businessman came up to me and started speaking in Japanese. I couldn’t understand most of what he said, but I caught the words “gaijin-san” as he pointed towards the entrance to the station and indicated the other direction. Clearly, he had seen another gaijin (foreigner) wandering around looking for someone. And obviously, we had to be looking for each other. I walked back down the stairs and there she was.
It’s quite an experience to be living in a city of 26 million people and yet to never be anonymous.
Juliet’s School Picnic May 15, 2007
Posted by Kristen in Kids, School.add a comment
At the beginning of April, I finally did it: I enrolled Juliet in a Japanese preschool. I’m so glad that she has the opportunity to learn Japanese and it’s an interesting adventure for me, too, to be a part of a Japanese school. I still speak very little Japanese, so it can be a challenge at times. Noriko picks Juliet up from school and gives me messages from the teachers, and she translates the notes for me. If I have something important to tell them in the morning, I look it up beforehand and write it down (I still have to say it, however, since they can’t really read Japanese words written in Roman characters). So far it’s going smoothly.
I have found some of the routines of the Japanese preschool, called hoikuen, to be interesting and amusing. Here is the list of items Juliet needs to have at school each day:
- indoor shoes
All children wear these in school, including Isabella. This is how they keep the floors clean without having the kids running around in their sock feet. The shoes are kind of like Keds, lightweight white canvas sneakers.
- a smock, with elastic at the neck and wrists
To keep the children clean during lunch, as well as for art projects.
- a towel with a loop
Also a Japanese school staple. Every child has his or her own towel which they use every day and bring home to wash. No paper towels or hand dryers in the bathroom. Very frugal and environmentally friendly
(Note – public bathrooms here often have no towels, either. Most people carry a small towel or handkerchief in their pocket or purse and use it after handwashing.)
- a placemat
For lunch.
Everything had to be labelled with her name, in Japanese. I asked Noriko to do most of them so it would be as neat as possible, but I did label the backpack myself. Here’s what “Juliet” looks like in Katakana:
ジュリエット
(It is pronounced something like “Jurietto,” which is about as awkward in Japanese as it is in English. We have taken to calling her Juju at home, and that seems to be catching on at school as well. Even Juliet can say it, which is incredibly endearing.)
The new school year begins here on April 1, so it’s been about a month and a half now. Last week was their first outing: a picnic with all the 1- and 2-year-old classes at Shinjuku Gyoen, a large and very pretty park in Tokyo. It was a beautiful and very warm day and the children all seemed to have a good time. I found it to be very different from any of the outings I had done with Isabella in New York. Though it wasn’t strict or rigid, it was all carefully planned and everything was done together. I also noticed that all of the rest of the people I saw in the park that day were on some kind of group outing: children in matching uniforms, adults with matching ribbons pinned to their shirts, walking together or eating together or doing some organized group activity.
Here’s what the day looked like for our little ones:
When we arrived, we set up our picnic mats in a shady spot under some large trees. This is what a typical Japanese group picnic looks like:
Soon afterwards, we all stood in a circle to sing a song. I think it was their regular good-morning song. Then we sat down again to socialize and eat a snack. Then there was an organized game. Here’s what the 1-year-olds got to do: The teachers set up two long ribbons several meters apart, with a row of balls in between. The little ones stood behind the first ribbon, then walked to the middle and picked up a ball, and then walked on to the second ribbon.
It seemed just the right level of difficulty for the little ones, and they managed to do it with help. Juliet was very happy with her new ball.
There was more free time, for sitting on the mats or playing with the balls, and then the teachers rounded everyone up for a walk. I had no idea where we were going, and ended up carrying Juliet for quite a distance. We ended up on a bridge over a lily-pad covered pond that was inhabited by a large number of turtles. The teachers had bags of crackers and gave one to each child, to feed the turtles. (Juliet tried to eat hers first, and had to be gently coaxed to toss it over the side!) It took some time to ensure every child had a chance, as the bridge was small and the group pretty big. Finally, we moved on to a tree that they had hung with origami necklaces for the children to “discover.”
Finally we walked back to our shady tree to eat lunch. I had packed Juliet’s bento box with a cream cheese and jelly sandwich cut into small squares and I had some cut up fruit for us to share. My Japanese friend Mari had packed traditional lunches for herself and her daughter: rice in one compartment, and in the other, several separate tiny cooked foods–a rolled omelette, a hot dog cut to look like a squid, and a tiny piece of fried chicken. Yes, I asked–she cooked it all fresh that morning.
Here are Juliet and Mari’s daughter Mion, who have been friends since last fall in Gymboree and are now in the same preschool class together.
All in all, it was a nice day and an interesting experience. It is very clear how important group activities are to the Japanese. Group outings like this are common not just throughout school years but into adulthood as well, in the form of company outings. Although the planned activities were simple and age-appropriate, they were all carefully choreographed and everyone was expected to participate. It didn’t give me the feeling that behaving differently would be frowned upon; it simply seemed that it was not an option. I wonder if I would have the patience to endure years of these outings, if we were to live here for many years . . . .
