Same, same, but different...

Three weeks into our great Japanese adventure and the novelty still hasn't really worn off. Weirdly the big things, like the constant language hurdles we leap (flop over), are beginning to feel more normal. We muddle through and are learning more and more each day. It's the small things, the day-to-day differences, that remind me I'm on the other side of the world and it's not quite the same...

The loos

It won’t come as any surprise that I find these robotic delights utterly fascinating and yes, I have been taking photos of all the different control panels I’ve come across since I’ve been here. I’m wondering when someone’s going to ask my why I’m taking photos inside a public toilet cubicle but so far I seem to have got away with it… My favourite one to date is in the picture below. It was in the Tokyo National Museum and had all the usual spray/soft/bidet functions. However, this one also displays the time (just in case you need to check how long you’ve been being sprayed for) and has what looks like a volume control (I assume this is actually to vary the force with which you are being sprayed). It also has a shower function, which I was more than a little bit tempted to try out, but in the end sense got the better of me, plus the fact that Simon was waiting for me and I assumed he wouldn’t want to drag a soaked-in-loo-water girlfriend round the rest of the museum. 

I think I'm in love!

 

I was evidently not alone in being overwhelmed by the choices afforded by this particular model; on the back of the cubicle door there was a laminated instruction guide. Now everything’s clear.

No idea

The noise

I speak as someone who’s lived and worked in London for the last six years, and someone who absolutely loves big cities. Too long away from a city makes me feel like a fish out of water and I am highly suspicious of silence. But nothing could have prepared me for the constant, ear-bashing noise that surrounds you in Tokyo. It comes from everywhere. Every time you walk into a restaurant all the members of staff welcome you with yells of ‘irashaimasaaaaaaay!’ and when you leave, ‘arigato gozaimaaaaaaas!’ follows you back out into the street. Once in the street, it’s a lively mixture of cars and motorbikes roaring, trains whooshing, pachinko and slot machine amusement arcades jingling and bleeping, hundreds of people walking and talking… Each pedestrian crossing makes a noise too; some chirp like small birds to let you know it’s safe to cross while others play bingy-bongy tunes like the ring-tones on phones ten years ago. On the trains you get messages in Japanese and English about the line on which you’re travelling, what the next station is, which side the doors will open, and other helpful suggestions like ‘please make sure you’re holding onto something in case the train needs to stop suddenly’. Stations are particularly cool – the speakers on the platforms not only announce when the next train will be arriving, but when the train’s there they play catchy tunes to let you know you can embark. I’ve had the one from Yurakuchō stuck in my head since yesterday afternoon!

Groceries and kitchen things

Eggs are bright white and very beautiful. According to the internet these are laid by hens with white feathers and earlobes, as opposed to brown eggs, which are laid by hens with dark feathers and red earlobes. I have never noticed that hens have earlobes but next time I see a hen, I’m going to check it out. It is common practice in shops, if you don’t want a bag for your purchase, for the shop assistant to put a small sticker on it to show that it has been paid for. This applies whether it’s something big like a computer, or something small like a bottle of water. When we got these eggs home we saw that they too have stickers on them and wondered how many people steal individual eggs! Actually it’s not that at all – this is the equivalent of the information that in the UK is stamped on the egg’s shell. It’s just another one of those ‘almost the same but slightly different’ things that make even the minutiae of life here exciting.

Protected against egg-theft

Butter comes in all shapes and sizes but my favourite by far is the stuff I found in the supermarket on my first trip there. It comes in a plastic tube and is squirty. Endless fun to be had at breakfast.

The excitement is palpable

Our kitchen is equipped with a bizarre mix of Japanese and über-ex-pat 'cocktails at six' type objects.  We have cooking chopsticks, eating chopsticks, bamboo spatulas and a rice cooker; we also have heavy-bottomed whisky tumblers and a poncy little ice bucket that comes with tongs and a muddler. The fridge is a gargantuan American creation and we’d have to take out a mortgage to stock it fully. Its most useful function is the ice-maker (we do like to live up to the odd ex-pat stereotype and have a G&T every now and then, especially when Tanqueray comes in at around £12 per 70cl). The thing that intrigues me the most about the kitchen is the ‘stainless jumbox’. Its many symbols and time control dial afford me no clues as to its function and I’m only further confused by an internet search which produces several results that would solve my welly boot storage problems if I had them, but none that belong on the work surface in a kitchen.

Not got a clue

Women’s fashions

Japanese women are impeccably dressed. Whether they’re sporting a yukata, a full kimono or modern clothes you can guarantee they’re un-flustered by the heat, un-soaked by the rain and generally beautifully turned out. There are some slightly strange things about the fashions here though – it would appear that neither your skirt nor your shorts can ever be too short. It makes me feel very old fashioned but there have been some outfits (or lack thereof) that have turned both mine and Simon’s heads (for different reasons, I think!) Conversely though, no matter what may be acceptable on the lower half, the upper half remains conservatively covered at all times. Even when temperatures were soaring into the 30s when we arrived, there were few bare arms to be seen, and even fewer tops cut lower than the collarbones. Being a larger-chested lady, I tend to look a little like a barrel on legs if I wear anything that doesn’t have a v-neck or similar. So barrel on legs has been the fashion du jour for the last three weeks! Don’t worry though, despite some clothing-conservatism Tokyo still lives up to its reputation for being a hotspot for some remarkable creations. I have seen several young women dressed not dissimilarly to Lady Gaga just out for a walk; I’ve seen others that look like a Hello Kitty shop has vomited its wares all over them. On Sunday we went to the Tokyo Dome, where it would appear that the trend is to hang out with your friend, wearing identical outfits. And lots of girls wear glasses with no lenses in them…

Pets don’t miss out either – there are loads of grooming parlours for tiny dogs all over the city. And there are also lots of shops that sell all sorts of clothing and accessories for your yappy friend. I snapped an example while we were out on Saturday.

The ultimate fashion accessory?

Bowing

If in doubt, bow. Smiling and head nodding will suffice, but bowing is best. Here are my tips: when you go into a restaurant, bow. When you hand over money for anything, bow. When a car lets you cross a road instead of running you over, bow. When a builder waves you past a building site, bow. When a policeman blows his whistle at you, either to say you can cross the road now, or to say don’t cross the road now, bow. When you meet a friend, bow. When you say goodbye to your friend, bow. If you’re saying goodbye to multiple people, bow multiple times. When you’re in front of a Shintō shrine, bow twice, clap your hands twice, say your prayer, and bow again. Yes, if in doubt, bow.

Us!

The main distinguishing feature between us and most of the other people around, and I admit that it’s a whopper, is that we’re not Japanese. That may sound like an obvious, and rather strange thing to say but what I mean is that I don’t think we look or act particularly like tourists; we take public transport, we eat in local restaurants, we attempt to speak the language. I realise that none of this makes us locals, but as I said at the beginning, it’s all starting to feel a little more familiar. So it’s a source of interest, amusement and occasionally sadness to me that everywhere we go we get stared at and made to feel very, very different. Sometimes this actually takes the form of someone getting up to move away from the foreigner. Most of the time however, it’s bafflement at what on earth a gaijin could be doing on the tube, or in that particular backstreet restaurant. People have literally done a double take when they’ve got on a train, lost in their own thoughts, and have looked up to see me standing there. Generally they’ve realised that I’ve clocked this, and we’ve both had a little laugh about it. I totally caught out one old gent eyeing me suspiciously in Ueno Park and smiled at him, at which point he gave me a charming smile back and a deeply respectful bow!        

Just so you don't forget what we look like!

So that’s my not-so-brief summary of everything so far that’s causing amusement, interest, and reinforcing that we really are a very long way from home. It’s fascinating, enjoyable, weird, wonderful and brilliant!

Until the next time…