That Nagoya Feeling

You know that feeling you get when you have spent weeks planning, packing, organizing, and every other kind of -ing for a trip, then invariably as soon as you get in the car and get precisely too far down the road to turn around you remember that you forgot something but for the life of you can’t remember what it is, just that it is probably very important? Yeah, that same sort of “what?” feeling pops up here and there in my voyages around this unexplored territory I’m in.

There’s the difference in Small, Medium and Large sizes at Starbucks (yes, Starbucks has infiltrated every corner of the world, including 金山駅, or in more Englishy looking terms Kanayama Station, the train station near my apartment). US Small = Japan Medium and Japan Small is approximately the size of those free cups you get for water at every fast food restaurant, just the perfect size for you to get a refill every sixteen seconds and finally tire out around about the fiftieth refill or so. Yeah, that’s the size of a small ダークモカチップフラペチーノ (that magically becomes “Dark Mocha Chip Frappuccino” if you stare at it puzzeledly for five minutes, I swear). Anyway, so small isn’t small but small.

But the thing that keeps catching that “wait, what?” feeling the most isn’t that. It isn’t the Japanese style toilets either.

Comfy. No, really.

Where squatting is the name of the game. Actually, squatting is pretty damn comfy in my reckoning. I mean, for one, when you’re “doing business” as my grandmother (love you!) so euphemistically puts it,  there’s none of that wondering what evil microbes might be lurking on that toilet seat you’re getting so intimate with. Also, there’s a sort of “squeezing action” that happens I think, so maybe that’s helpful in the bowel movement department. Anyway, aside from all the nonsensical pondering about toilets, it does feel a bit foreign. But that’s still not the most foreign seeming of experiences as I would put it.

Neither would I say it is seeing those mystical-, magical-seeming kanji that are sprinkled throughout these posts (e.g. 郵便局, or post office) on menus, signs and cell phone contracts and which have a high “huh, whaaah?” factor.

Straightforward, right?

Seriously, signing a contract in a foreign language you don’t understand... Speaking of kanji and not knowing what the heck is going on, I think of the スーパー (or supermarket).

Picture going to the grocery store for your everyday, regular purchase of “staples.” I put “staples” in quotes because it’s highly dependent upon where said grocery store is located, as in what country. So walking aisle by aisle, those aforementioned kanji are informing you what in the world these edible goods in front of you are called. But that’s just it, kanji are not phonetic, by any means. So, it takes lots and lots of good study in order to just read the name. But even being able to read the name might not be much comfort; I mean, even if you know that 胡麻油 is pronounced goma abura, what does that mean?

胡麻油 = goma abura = sesame oil

Ok, then even if you know that could be translated to “sesame oil,” how do you cook with it. Now, some of you might actually be comfy cozy with dashing sesame oil into your culinary concoctions, but that’s definitely one of the more familiar products in the myriad staring at you from the supermarket shelves. So, culinary expanding-your-horizons anyone?

My mom is probably groaning right now, as I like to excitedly “improve” her home cooked recipe ideas by introducing “Exciting, Foreign Cuisine!” So please give her a big smile for me next time you see her.

Anyway, so that supermarket experience of adventure and mystery still hasn’t been the most evoking of that foreign feeling. In fact, amongst all these experiences, the most foreign has been sneezing. Rather, it has been the silence afterward. No one says “Bless you!” Nope, it’s just “Ahhh Choo!” and then “...” which sort of feels like slamming on the breaks, waiting for that impact. I just really want to say “Bless you!” Chii-san, the lovely guide from last post, finds this whole bless you business very amusing. So for her, when pulling on her academic training of western wackiness, it’s “bless you. (giggle giggle).” Indeed.

Nagoya’s been good. It’s the city where I’ll be teaching, living, breathing, eating and meeting cool people.

Home, sweet, home.

Beautiful. It’s actually pretty industrial. Not the turist attraction center of the world that Tokyo can claim to be, which is kind of a plus in my book. Japanese study for the win! I feel that there are probably less foreigner niches and less foreigners period in this city. Pictures coming soon... For now, we AETs have been studying Japanese, getting new shiny cell phones that can play TV, settling into new apartments (pics coming soon as well), and getting training on how to not be a complete deru kui in our schools. Deru kui, means something like “the nail that sticks out” and comes from an idiom every child in Japan knows, 「出る杭は打たれる」 “The nail that sticks out gets hammered down.” Kind of a stark way of saying, “In Rome, do as the Romans do,” though the connotation does feel a bit different. So the staff at Cosmo, and Brian in particular, have been working hard to inform and warn to pave a smooth road per se. But we’ll see the road once we walk it.

Soon we’ll start making lesson plans, coming up with games and ways to keep the word 詰まらん (“booooriiiing...”) far from students’ lips as well as ways to bond with the teachers and really make a home at the school. I, for one, am looking forward to the 入学式 or welcoming ceremony. It involves lots of bonding via sake (which I’m certain you’re all familiar with). Hehe. I’ve been offered more alcohol here than in the rest of my life. Jeez. Alcohol here is alive and flowing. People work hard (really really hard, as in many work twelve to fifteen hour days) and play hard (sake sake sake). It really shows.

We went to get cell phones a couple days ago and the people at the shop (who spoke English pretty darn well; one place of very few) I feel really wanted to help us. They showed us several ways to save money and work the system a bit, noticing details such as that a few of us temporarily had the same address and therefore were eligible to get a family plan and get bonuses etc. Awesome! But more than saving money and getting convenient, useful and cool cellphones and cell phone plans, I felt really noticed and helped out. Which is another thing of beauty here. Attentiveness.

If you ask, “Hey, Hosono-san [my apartment mate], can I ask you a question?” He will stop what he is doing, come to you and address your question. When you hand a schedule of next week’s plans to your co-worker or money to the clerk for that delicious o-nigiri at midnight

Yumm....

it is handed and received with both hands. Attention. I feel at home.

Romanticization much? :P So, I promise more,—pictures and much more nonsense later, as Nagoya and I settle in.

またね！