And then suddenly there was no toilet paper. I first knew things were heating up when the girls at Starbucks all started wearing face masks. It’s not uncommon for people to wear them on the street or in the train, but to see service staff looking like hospital orderlies was a bit disturbing. Of course, I had on a mask too, so our interaction went something like,
“Wrrcome tr Srbucks, mray I trk yr rrrder?”
“Mray I trk yr rrrder?”
“Grrrnde crrffee prrease.”
I also discovered it’s pretty hard to drink coffee while
wearing a mask and without touching the cup. So I bought a bag of beans and
resolved to start brewing up at home.
Continue reading “Coronavirus, Japan 2020”
Sunday dawned cool and sunny. It was a perfect day for our early-morning Japanese tsunami drill, so when the sirens sounded we all strolled up to the park and watched the fire department explain how to use a fire extinguisher for half an hour. Then we played some “ground golf” and sat around eating pig soup and drinking shochu. I was like, man, if this is what tsunami’s are like, I can’t understand why people aren’t more enthusiastic about them.
Continue reading “The Japanese Tsunami Drill”
It rained last week. And as I walked into the lobby of my Japanese office building, there was my coworker in front of me, the strawberry-blonde gal who speaks pretty good Japanese. And perhaps because she’d mostly mastered the language, it was surprising to note she’d failed to successfully navigate the entire minefield of Japanese customs: she hadn’t wrapped up her umbrella. You know that little strap you wind around to hold the umbrella closed? Yeah, she hadn’t done that. This is the Japanese equivalent of not zipping up your fly.
Continue reading “What I’ve Learned About Japanese Customs”
What do you think of cheating as a subject in Japan? I recently watched this video and it says over 80% of women here cheat. How true is that?”
Okay, so several years ago I met a dude in Osaka, who’d just moved there for work. We were standing in an empty shell of a building, drinking shochu and eating dried daikon with bits of cream cheese. Who says Japanese bars aren’t the best?
Me? Oh, right. Well, anyway, he mentioned a wife and daughter back in Chiba, so I replied, “Must be hard being away.”
“Nah,” he answered, “my wife said I can have a girlfriend.”
And I was like, “Whaaa? She said whaaa?” Probably should work on sounding out my consonants a bit more.
Cheating in Japan
Then fast-forward a couple of years, when I told my girlfriend at the time I was moving out of Tokyo.
“I’m leaving,” I said.
“Yeah, okay,” she said. Really thought she’d take it a bit
harder, to be honest.
“I don’t mind if you have another girlfriend,” she added.
“Will you have another boyfriend?” I asked.
“No guarantees,” she replied.
Continue reading “Cheating in Japan”
The Monday after submitting my application for Permanent Residency in Japan, I started checking the mailbox.
Yeah, I knew it was a bit soon. The woman at the Immigration Office with the mismatched eyes said it’d take months, and I believed her. Still, I couldn’t resist the pull; every evening checking for a postcard from Immigration, walking past my dear friend Kato-san dying of lymphoma and the weird kid who shot me with the pellet gun. Ah, Japanese neighbors, you are my new countrymen. But of course the mailbox was always empty and somehow I was always disappointed. Such is the pitfall of my perpetual optimism.
And then one day out of the blue, I got a phone call. It was
almost three months from the day I submitted my application.
Continue reading “Permanent Residency in Japan”