I went to get my hair cut the other day and was looking through a women's fashion magazine called "Vivi" at the salon. Towards the back, there was an article about how to tell if a guy is lying to you, while at the same time making sure your lies fool him. Now let that idea just sink in for a moment.
It included tips about, "how to cover up that you lied when he asks you point blank." For example, if he asks, "Did you cheat on me?" You say "Yes. (pause) No wait--I mean some guy asked me out to dinner, so I thought that may be considered 'cheating.'" (In this scenario you did, in fact, cheat on your boyfriend, but now he thinks you are just stupid and don't actually know what that word means.)
There was also a list of ways to efficiently snoop around on his cell phone to find out if he is cheating:
1. Buy the same type of phone as him, so you can "accidentally" mix them up.
2. Buy him an app as an excuse to get him to tell you his password.
3. Remember that smart phones can access PC email, so don't forget to check all his accounts.
4. Look through the photos he has on the phone to see if there are any other girls in them.
5. Steal the memory card from out of his phone.
So everyone is always lying to each other, and they don't trust each other in the first place anyway...
No wonder Japan is a "cheating culture" where women accept that it is normal for their boyfriend to cheat on them, and men (as well as women) use that as an excuse to keep cheating. What I want to know is why does anyone bother getting mad about it then?
Friday, July 15, 2011
Friday, June 3, 2011
My Earthquake Experience
By now I'm sure everybody is fully aware of the 9.0 magnitude earthquake and consequential tsunami that hit northeastern Japan on March 11, 2011. I have refrained from commenting on it up to now, because I wasn't quite sure what to say. I was extremely lucky; no one I know personally was killed or injured, my house did not fall down, and really I have suffered no ill effects, other than getting extremely annoyed by people in Tokyo hoarding toilet paper, bread, batteries, and other goods that should have been sent up north to the affected areas to help those truly in need of them. Now, nearly three months after the disaster, I finally feel ready to share my experiences from that day and the days immediately after. I feel like, though the direct impact on my life has been extremely limited, I have seen evidence of the best of humanity (mixed with a small amount of shitty behavior) through this tragic event.
On the morning of March 11, I made the trek to the nearest national tax agency. The due date for filing was the following Monday, so I hoped to avoid super long lines by procrastinating just enough that I still had one full business day before the inevitable last-minute dash. What I thought would take all morning and afternoon, miraculously took only 30mins, so I had several hours to kill before a scheduled meeting with a friend in Shibuya. Thinking I would just go early and do some shopping (as a reward to myself for paying those taxes), I headed there after a quick pit stop for coffee and cheesecake (another reward, which I totally deserved--come on, taxes suck).
I arrived at Shibuya around 2:46pm. I remember the time because as I was exiting the ticket gates the entire station started shaking violently. I knew immediately that it was the strongest earthquake I had ever experienced and I knew it was definitely an unusually big one because a station attendant started shouting over the loudspeaker, "Everyone, hang on to something!" I steadied myself against a nearby pillar and watched in shock as the signs and automated schedule boards swung back and forth precariously. The doors of the trains that were in the station had been closed to prevent anyone from trying to run off, because inside a (stationary) train is one of the safest places one could be during an earthquake. (Though personally I was glad not to be in one of the claustrophobic steel tubes that were swaying back and forth with abandon.)
After about five minutes that seemed much longer, the shaking subsided. The station attendants told everyone to wait calmly for further instruction. After about five more minutes when no more rumbles arrived, the people around me started to go about their business as if nothing had happened. Obviously the trains were not up and running yet, but the stores reopened right away and, despite one shattered plate-glass window, I saw no damage around town. Since the shaking had felt so strong where I was, and no one else seemed to think anything of it, I assumed we must have been near the epicenter and, though it was a big one, there was no serious damage done. I found out later that the quake registered in Shibuya was only about 6 magnitude.
Since no one seemed to be panicking or talking about the quake and the stores were still open for normal business, I continued with my shopping plans. Around 5:00pm I went to meet my friend, but, realizing that her train may have been delayed, sent her an email to see if she was still coming. I waited for about 30 minutes, and when she did not show up and I had still not received an email reply, I went to Starbucks to wait for a while. The place was completely packed, but I managed to get the last seat at the large table on the second floor. I read my book for about two hours until I heard a nearby couple on a clearly awkward first date discussing the trains. "When do you think the trains will be up and running again?" she asked, with a tone that suggested what she really meant was "because I want to get away from you as soon as possible." "Well, they're saying definitely not until last train time at the earliest," he responded. At this point it was 7:30pm and the last trains are around midnight. This is when I began to suspect something more serious was happening than I initially inferred.
I left Starbucks and joined a throng of people watching a live news feed being broadcast on a TV outside of a store. That is when I first saw the footage of the tsunami wiping away a parking lot full of cars. There was an air of panic around me as people gasped at the horrible footage and tried to call loved ones on their cell phones. The cell network had been completely overloaded since the quake of course, which is why I never heard back from my friend. I walked toward the station to see if there was any news about the trains and saw long lines at every normally ignored public phone, since only land lines were working. At the bus terminal, there were people lined up in four rows that stretched from one end of the station to the other waiting for buses with no guarantee of what time, if ever, they were coming. Inside the station people were milling around, some sitting and leaning against the walls and pillars, clearly prepared to camp out for the night if need be as the station workers kept repeating that they still had no news of when the trains would be running again.
Since I knew that even if the trains started again I would have to wait for hours in line just to get on an agonizingly packed car, I decided to start walking. I live about 20 minutes by train from Shibuya. It took me about four hours to walk home. I figured I would just follow the tracks until I got to my station. Once I got out of Shibuya, where there is no direct path that follows the tracks, so I had to walk down some very creepy, dark alleyways, and past Daikanyama, where I got turned around and took a 30 minute detour because the tracks disappear underground, it was easy to just follow the overpass and the long line of people that were doing the same.
After walking between four stations, I realized I had not eaten since that cheesecake around 12:30 and stopped at a convenience store. Though the shelves where already growing sparse, I managed to get the last pork bun and a tall can of beer (yeah, it was definitely time to start drinking at this point.)
Halfway home, I crossed the Tama River, which acts as the border between Tokyo and Kanagawa Prefecture, where I live. From the bridge, the light from a huge blaze on far off Tokyo Bay could be seen and a voice drifted eerily from a loudspeaker on the Kanagawa-side, warning Kawasaki City residents to stay away from the river "just in case" the tsunami were to cause flooding. (I guess the Tokyo side is not as overly cautious, or they don't care about there citizens as much...)
When I was on my way to the station one stop away from my own, a man started walking next to me and trying to get my attention. When I took out my headphones he asked in Japanese, "How far have you been walking?" With plenty of other people around I felt it was safe to have a friendly conversation about our shared situation, so I answered him and we commiserated about the long walk. Then he said, "Your Japanese is really good, where are you from? I'm trying to learn English." --Oh, wow, you are one those people and you are willing to use any excuse to try to talk to a foreigner. Maybe you should spend that effort on making sure that all of your loved ones are safe.-- Still, not wanting to be rude, I allowed him to go through the usual stupid list of queries that they all ask: "How long have you been in Japan?" "Do you like Japanese food--can you use chopsticks?" "What about natto?"
Then he asked if I was going to the next stop and when I said, "No, one more after that," my heart sank as he cheerfully announced that he was going to the same place... Starting to feel creeped out, I pretended that I was going to make sure my friend who lived at the closer station was alright, so I could get rid of him. Then he asked for my number, or rather demanded, "Hey, give me your number, so I can talk to you sometime!" I blurted out, "I have a boyfriend!" hoping that would deter him, but he pressed on, saying, "Oh no, I didn't mean it like that--I just want to practice English, because I work in a foreign-owned company. We should have coffee sometime so you can help me practice my English, you can even bring your boyfriend." --Yeah, right, creeper.-- Now feeling thoroughly uncomfortable, I gave him my business card, saying, "If you ever need translation services at your work, you can contact me." I then hid on a side street for several minutes to give him time to walk ahead before setting off on the final 30 minutes of my walk home.
I managed to get home at 11:30, only one creepy experience and a couple of blisters worse for the wear. Luckily, the only damage to my apartment was this:
No collapsed walls, no gas leak or fire, nothing broken. Just a few figurines that fell down. I was extremely fortunate.
The next morning my doorbell rang. There were two little old ladies at my door. They asked if I was alright after the earthquake, so at first I thought they were from some community group coming around to make sure everyone was safe. Then they said, "Well, that near death experience must have gotten you thinking about what is going to happen to you in the afterlife, huh? Have you heard of Jehovah?" That's right, the fucking Jehovah's Witnesses were using a disaster that has caused the deaths of over 15,000 people with thousands more injured or missing as an excuse to proselytize. Now, usually I try to politely decline taking their creepy-ass Watchtower pamphlet, but I was so furious at the insensitivity of these people that I just shouted, "NO!" and slammed the door in their little old faces.
So, I had a couple of bad experiences that were especially shocking because people still think it is okay to act like that in the midst of a huge tragedy. But I have also seen the generosity of people, donating their money and, more recently now that conditions have become safe for civilians, their hard work as volunteers in the clean-up efforts. I am glad to say that, despite a few bad apples, most of the country (and that includes the foreign residents) has truly come together to help those in need.
For details on the earthquake/tsunami visit:
The wiki page: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2011_T%C5%8Dhoku_earthquake_and_tsunami
The Japanese Meteorological Agency: http://www.jma.go.jp/jma/en/2011_Earthquake.html
To donate to the Red Cross from America (choose the "Japan Earthquake and Pacific Tsunami"): https://american.redcross.org/site/SPageServer?s_subsrc=RCO_ResponseStateSection&pagename=ntld_main&s_src=RSG000000000
On the morning of March 11, I made the trek to the nearest national tax agency. The due date for filing was the following Monday, so I hoped to avoid super long lines by procrastinating just enough that I still had one full business day before the inevitable last-minute dash. What I thought would take all morning and afternoon, miraculously took only 30mins, so I had several hours to kill before a scheduled meeting with a friend in Shibuya. Thinking I would just go early and do some shopping (as a reward to myself for paying those taxes), I headed there after a quick pit stop for coffee and cheesecake (another reward, which I totally deserved--come on, taxes suck).
I arrived at Shibuya around 2:46pm. I remember the time because as I was exiting the ticket gates the entire station started shaking violently. I knew immediately that it was the strongest earthquake I had ever experienced and I knew it was definitely an unusually big one because a station attendant started shouting over the loudspeaker, "Everyone, hang on to something!" I steadied myself against a nearby pillar and watched in shock as the signs and automated schedule boards swung back and forth precariously. The doors of the trains that were in the station had been closed to prevent anyone from trying to run off, because inside a (stationary) train is one of the safest places one could be during an earthquake. (Though personally I was glad not to be in one of the claustrophobic steel tubes that were swaying back and forth with abandon.)
After about five minutes that seemed much longer, the shaking subsided. The station attendants told everyone to wait calmly for further instruction. After about five more minutes when no more rumbles arrived, the people around me started to go about their business as if nothing had happened. Obviously the trains were not up and running yet, but the stores reopened right away and, despite one shattered plate-glass window, I saw no damage around town. Since the shaking had felt so strong where I was, and no one else seemed to think anything of it, I assumed we must have been near the epicenter and, though it was a big one, there was no serious damage done. I found out later that the quake registered in Shibuya was only about 6 magnitude.
Since no one seemed to be panicking or talking about the quake and the stores were still open for normal business, I continued with my shopping plans. Around 5:00pm I went to meet my friend, but, realizing that her train may have been delayed, sent her an email to see if she was still coming. I waited for about 30 minutes, and when she did not show up and I had still not received an email reply, I went to Starbucks to wait for a while. The place was completely packed, but I managed to get the last seat at the large table on the second floor. I read my book for about two hours until I heard a nearby couple on a clearly awkward first date discussing the trains. "When do you think the trains will be up and running again?" she asked, with a tone that suggested what she really meant was "because I want to get away from you as soon as possible." "Well, they're saying definitely not until last train time at the earliest," he responded. At this point it was 7:30pm and the last trains are around midnight. This is when I began to suspect something more serious was happening than I initially inferred.
I left Starbucks and joined a throng of people watching a live news feed being broadcast on a TV outside of a store. That is when I first saw the footage of the tsunami wiping away a parking lot full of cars. There was an air of panic around me as people gasped at the horrible footage and tried to call loved ones on their cell phones. The cell network had been completely overloaded since the quake of course, which is why I never heard back from my friend. I walked toward the station to see if there was any news about the trains and saw long lines at every normally ignored public phone, since only land lines were working. At the bus terminal, there were people lined up in four rows that stretched from one end of the station to the other waiting for buses with no guarantee of what time, if ever, they were coming. Inside the station people were milling around, some sitting and leaning against the walls and pillars, clearly prepared to camp out for the night if need be as the station workers kept repeating that they still had no news of when the trains would be running again.
Since I knew that even if the trains started again I would have to wait for hours in line just to get on an agonizingly packed car, I decided to start walking. I live about 20 minutes by train from Shibuya. It took me about four hours to walk home. I figured I would just follow the tracks until I got to my station. Once I got out of Shibuya, where there is no direct path that follows the tracks, so I had to walk down some very creepy, dark alleyways, and past Daikanyama, where I got turned around and took a 30 minute detour because the tracks disappear underground, it was easy to just follow the overpass and the long line of people that were doing the same.
After walking between four stations, I realized I had not eaten since that cheesecake around 12:30 and stopped at a convenience store. Though the shelves where already growing sparse, I managed to get the last pork bun and a tall can of beer (yeah, it was definitely time to start drinking at this point.)
Halfway home, I crossed the Tama River, which acts as the border between Tokyo and Kanagawa Prefecture, where I live. From the bridge, the light from a huge blaze on far off Tokyo Bay could be seen and a voice drifted eerily from a loudspeaker on the Kanagawa-side, warning Kawasaki City residents to stay away from the river "just in case" the tsunami were to cause flooding. (I guess the Tokyo side is not as overly cautious, or they don't care about there citizens as much...)
When I was on my way to the station one stop away from my own, a man started walking next to me and trying to get my attention. When I took out my headphones he asked in Japanese, "How far have you been walking?" With plenty of other people around I felt it was safe to have a friendly conversation about our shared situation, so I answered him and we commiserated about the long walk. Then he said, "Your Japanese is really good, where are you from? I'm trying to learn English." --Oh, wow, you are one those people and you are willing to use any excuse to try to talk to a foreigner. Maybe you should spend that effort on making sure that all of your loved ones are safe.-- Still, not wanting to be rude, I allowed him to go through the usual stupid list of queries that they all ask: "How long have you been in Japan?" "Do you like Japanese food--can you use chopsticks?" "What about natto?"
Then he asked if I was going to the next stop and when I said, "No, one more after that," my heart sank as he cheerfully announced that he was going to the same place... Starting to feel creeped out, I pretended that I was going to make sure my friend who lived at the closer station was alright, so I could get rid of him. Then he asked for my number, or rather demanded, "Hey, give me your number, so I can talk to you sometime!" I blurted out, "I have a boyfriend!" hoping that would deter him, but he pressed on, saying, "Oh no, I didn't mean it like that--I just want to practice English, because I work in a foreign-owned company. We should have coffee sometime so you can help me practice my English, you can even bring your boyfriend." --Yeah, right, creeper.-- Now feeling thoroughly uncomfortable, I gave him my business card, saying, "If you ever need translation services at your work, you can contact me." I then hid on a side street for several minutes to give him time to walk ahead before setting off on the final 30 minutes of my walk home.
I managed to get home at 11:30, only one creepy experience and a couple of blisters worse for the wear. Luckily, the only damage to my apartment was this:
The next morning my doorbell rang. There were two little old ladies at my door. They asked if I was alright after the earthquake, so at first I thought they were from some community group coming around to make sure everyone was safe. Then they said, "Well, that near death experience must have gotten you thinking about what is going to happen to you in the afterlife, huh? Have you heard of Jehovah?" That's right, the fucking Jehovah's Witnesses were using a disaster that has caused the deaths of over 15,000 people with thousands more injured or missing as an excuse to proselytize. Now, usually I try to politely decline taking their creepy-ass Watchtower pamphlet, but I was so furious at the insensitivity of these people that I just shouted, "NO!" and slammed the door in their little old faces.
So, I had a couple of bad experiences that were especially shocking because people still think it is okay to act like that in the midst of a huge tragedy. But I have also seen the generosity of people, donating their money and, more recently now that conditions have become safe for civilians, their hard work as volunteers in the clean-up efforts. I am glad to say that, despite a few bad apples, most of the country (and that includes the foreign residents) has truly come together to help those in need.
For details on the earthquake/tsunami visit:
The wiki page: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2011_T%C5%8Dhoku_earthquake_and_tsunami
The Japanese Meteorological Agency: http://www.jma.go.jp/jma/en/2011_Earthquake.html
To donate to the Red Cross from America (choose the "Japan Earthquake and Pacific Tsunami"): https://american.redcross.org/site/SPageServer?s_subsrc=RCO_ResponseStateSection&pagename=ntld_main&s_src=RSG000000000
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
The Search for Yan-san
If you are like me and many others who have studied Japanese at university, you have probably watched the Japanese language learning program "Yan-san and the Japanese People." This NHK-produced "drama" from the 1980's is about a foreigner of never explicitly stated origin who comes to Japan to work/study as an architect.
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| Yan-san |
Through the various predicaments he finds himself in, the Japanese language students are supposed to learn important grammar points, but the real charm of the show (whether intentional or not) was the hilarious, over-the-top acting and ridiculous situations.
I was recently re-watching the second season of this classic when my friend and I realized that we could probably find where Yan lived using addresses and visual clues from the episodes. And so began our search for Yan-san...
Google-mapping the address seen on a plaque in the first episode of season 2 led us to a neighborhood near Oshiage Station in Tokyo. After winding our way through the tightly packed streets, we found it...Yan-san's apartment! It is still standing, though it shows the more than 20 years of wear and tear since the show was filmed (when it was already pretty run-down). Also still there is the shopping street he frequented and the park he ran through on his way to pick up his love interest, Okada-san.
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| The address plaque, updated with Romaji since the 80s. |
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| The nearby park, site of epic jumping over the fence scene. |
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The shotengai (shopping street). |
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| The fruit/veggie stand Yan-san's neighborhood friends owned. |
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| Yan's apartment building! |
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A light is on in Yan's apartment...looks like he's home. |
Of course we couldn't just look at these historic landmarks...Some scene reenactments were in order.
First, the scene where Yan's landlord is walking home after shopping at the veggie stand:
First, the scene where Yan's landlord is walking home after shopping at the veggie stand:
And of course, I would be remiss if I didn't reenact Yan's leap over the park fence as he joyously runs to pick up Okada-san from the station for his nabe party.
First episode of Yan-san season 2 can be seen here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LiDFrYG3zes
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