Japan - One year retrospective
Jul. 18th, 2009 01:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kodalaiAs I started to get ready to leave Japan, one of the things that they advised us to do, to try to prepare us for the culture shock and the sadness of leaving JET behind, was to make a few lists. Lists of things that we liked about Japan and were sorry to leave behind, and things that we were looking forward to having in the US. (Here's the old post, actually.)
So it's been about a year now, and as I watch people on my facebook and friendslist preparing to come home from Japan too, I feel like it's time to do a retrospective.
Things I miss about Japan in general, Toyama in particular.
-The beautiful environment. I can't really go into too terribly much detail about it because I never made a study of plants and animals and so I can't name them specifically. But it was just a beautiful, beautiful place, even as crowded with roads and buildings and rice paddies as it was.
-Bicycles. A hundred times bicycles. I miss bicycles being a ubiquitous part of life, entirely non-noteworthy. Since coming back to the states I've wanted to get another bike, because I liked biking places in Japan. I physically enjoy bike riding, it was very handy, and it certainly gave me plenty of exercise. While I acutely missed having a car that would let me travel long distances and carry large loads (ever tried to carry a mattress on a bike?) the bike was absolutely the transport of choice for local errands.
But since I came to Seattle -- even liberal, ecofriendly Seattle -- I haven't really been able to. Partly it's that I have no place to STORE a bike -- this apartment has no storage places available. Partly it's that most of the businesses, even downtown, have negligable bike parking racks available if they have any at all.
Partly it's that I am absolutely terrified of riding a bicycle on the road. In Japan, bicycles rode on the sidewalk, period (no doubt in large part to the fact that the streets were far too narrow to accomadate them.) I really don't get why the US insists on classifying bicycles as automobiles, when they clearly aren't.
And partly it's because bicycle "culture" in the US is quite hard to get into. Because it is a subculture. Bicycling in Seattle, as in most places, is a hobby. If you're really into it it's a "lifestyle." There are special bike-riding trails you take your bike and go on. There's no end of special bike-riding equipment available, most of it on the assumption that you're going to be spending hours away from civilization. And they can be incredibly snobbish about bikes; I didn't really catch on to this until I heard someone working in a bike store talking with a sneer about "department store bikes," which are apparently only a step up from a trashed junker you pull out of the Sound, and which are the only bicycles available for purchase for less than $300.
-Trains. I don't have to put too many words into this, do I? To sum it up: Once I learned how to work the JR system, which was surprisingly easy for someone who didn't even speak very good Japanese, I could be confident that I could step onto a train anywhere in Japan and be able to find my way to my destination anywhere else in Japan.
-Buses. On a similar note. I always had a vague aversion to riding metropolitan buses. I never really had to do it until I went to Japan, and then I wondered why I had been so afraid of it. Now I remember.
Buses in Japan, unlike those in America (or at least those in Seattle) are clean, comfortable, and userfriendly. They have LED displays that tell you what the next stop is, and canned recordings that announce when the bus is about to stop. Payment is easy and convenient, thanks partly to the Japanese monetary coin system, and the buses are almost always, if not exactly on time, only a few minutes late.
In Seattle at the least, riding the buses is nearly impossible unless you already know the city well enough to be able to tell where you are and can recognize the streets around your stop.
-My kids. I do miss my kids. And my school, in general. We were only a private school, and a lot of our kids were students who hadn't been able to pass the exams for more prestigious high schools. Working with them very quickly dispelled any illusions about Japan's super-smart, super-adademic, super-hardworking student body. They were just teenagers like any others; they didn't like to have to work, they were interested in living their lives without interference from adults. But they were good-hearted, fun people to work with, all the same.
-Conbinis. I don't know why convenience stores in the US are not as good. But they just aren't. Maybe because they don't have emergency underwear and socks.
-Karaoke. "Seattle's best karaoke" deserves its name only because it's "Seattle's only karaoke," at least in the booth style of real Japanese karaoke. Sadly America seems to be completely ignorant of this magnificent entertainment option, going straight from karaoke "bars" to home karaoke systems. Sure, you can rent a machine and sing all night long in your own home, but can you get room service to bring you strong mixed drinks and potato chips artfully arranged in a wine glass? I think not.
Things I don't miss about Japan.
-The food. I never, ever really got used to the food in Japan. There were a few kinds of food I really enjoyed eating -- the yakitori sold from street stalls, and the ramen at cheap 500 yen ramen places were very tasty -- but as a general rule the food was just always a trial. I found it very hard to eat things I couldn't recognize (although in some cases, knowing what kind of animal it came from was not an advantage.)
Eventually I just came to accept that for me, personally, food is not a fun adventure. I don't see virtue inherent in trying new and exciting types of food. I eat food because I am hungry, ideally tasty food which is enjoyable to eat. And if I am lucky when I am trying new foods, I'll find one that is tasty and that I enjoy eating, but it's a russian roulette that that will be the case and I'd basically get the same enjoyment as if I ate something I already know.
-My coworkers.
That sounds really mean, and I regret that I have to write it. Most of my coworkers were very nice, smart, good people. But for two years of living in Japan, of all the things that caused me stress -- standing up in front of the kids' classes, trying to get around in a place where I spoke none of the language, even manuevering the foreign health-care system -- the vast majority of my stress came from dealing with my coworkers.
I won't go into too much detail, mostly because it would just sound like whining and generally be in poor taste. I'll just say in a general sort of way that some of the stress was expected, unavoidable stress caused by having to learn a whole lot about teaching, education, the Japanese school system, the language, and the culture -- and some of it... wasn't unavoidable.
-Smokers. Japan allows smoking in most public buildings. Technically it was not allowed inside the school at all, which meant that only the principal and his guests could do it.
They had non-smoking cars on their trains, but since it was often switched from one car to another depending on the line, basically all the cars had a chance of reeking of tobacco.
-Sunsets.
In a weird way, which I think I have tried to describe before and failed, Japan was very much "land of the rising sun." Japan, or at least my part of it, had beautiful sunrises. Bright colors, clear shining sunlight as it came up to illuminate the horizon. The light in the mornings was always very strong, full of color, beautiful. But it had no sunsets. Whether it was the arrangement of the mountains, the proximity of the ocean, or whatever, Toyama did not have good afternoons or evenings. Rather than a strong warm afternoon light and a pretty sunset, the light in the afternoon would simply start to fade; and it would get dimmer and duller steadily over the evening until finally it just went out.
Oh Japan, I miss you still. You taught me so much about myself, about the world, about my own culture. I'm not sorry I left. I couldn't have stayed. But I still miss you.
So it's been about a year now, and as I watch people on my facebook and friendslist preparing to come home from Japan too, I feel like it's time to do a retrospective.
Things I miss about Japan in general, Toyama in particular.
-The beautiful environment. I can't really go into too terribly much detail about it because I never made a study of plants and animals and so I can't name them specifically. But it was just a beautiful, beautiful place, even as crowded with roads and buildings and rice paddies as it was.
-Bicycles. A hundred times bicycles. I miss bicycles being a ubiquitous part of life, entirely non-noteworthy. Since coming back to the states I've wanted to get another bike, because I liked biking places in Japan. I physically enjoy bike riding, it was very handy, and it certainly gave me plenty of exercise. While I acutely missed having a car that would let me travel long distances and carry large loads (ever tried to carry a mattress on a bike?) the bike was absolutely the transport of choice for local errands.
But since I came to Seattle -- even liberal, ecofriendly Seattle -- I haven't really been able to. Partly it's that I have no place to STORE a bike -- this apartment has no storage places available. Partly it's that most of the businesses, even downtown, have negligable bike parking racks available if they have any at all.
Partly it's that I am absolutely terrified of riding a bicycle on the road. In Japan, bicycles rode on the sidewalk, period (no doubt in large part to the fact that the streets were far too narrow to accomadate them.) I really don't get why the US insists on classifying bicycles as automobiles, when they clearly aren't.
And partly it's because bicycle "culture" in the US is quite hard to get into. Because it is a subculture. Bicycling in Seattle, as in most places, is a hobby. If you're really into it it's a "lifestyle." There are special bike-riding trails you take your bike and go on. There's no end of special bike-riding equipment available, most of it on the assumption that you're going to be spending hours away from civilization. And they can be incredibly snobbish about bikes; I didn't really catch on to this until I heard someone working in a bike store talking with a sneer about "department store bikes," which are apparently only a step up from a trashed junker you pull out of the Sound, and which are the only bicycles available for purchase for less than $300.
-Trains. I don't have to put too many words into this, do I? To sum it up: Once I learned how to work the JR system, which was surprisingly easy for someone who didn't even speak very good Japanese, I could be confident that I could step onto a train anywhere in Japan and be able to find my way to my destination anywhere else in Japan.
-Buses. On a similar note. I always had a vague aversion to riding metropolitan buses. I never really had to do it until I went to Japan, and then I wondered why I had been so afraid of it. Now I remember.
Buses in Japan, unlike those in America (or at least those in Seattle) are clean, comfortable, and userfriendly. They have LED displays that tell you what the next stop is, and canned recordings that announce when the bus is about to stop. Payment is easy and convenient, thanks partly to the Japanese monetary coin system, and the buses are almost always, if not exactly on time, only a few minutes late.
In Seattle at the least, riding the buses is nearly impossible unless you already know the city well enough to be able to tell where you are and can recognize the streets around your stop.
-My kids. I do miss my kids. And my school, in general. We were only a private school, and a lot of our kids were students who hadn't been able to pass the exams for more prestigious high schools. Working with them very quickly dispelled any illusions about Japan's super-smart, super-adademic, super-hardworking student body. They were just teenagers like any others; they didn't like to have to work, they were interested in living their lives without interference from adults. But they were good-hearted, fun people to work with, all the same.
-Conbinis. I don't know why convenience stores in the US are not as good. But they just aren't. Maybe because they don't have emergency underwear and socks.
-Karaoke. "Seattle's best karaoke" deserves its name only because it's "Seattle's only karaoke," at least in the booth style of real Japanese karaoke. Sadly America seems to be completely ignorant of this magnificent entertainment option, going straight from karaoke "bars" to home karaoke systems. Sure, you can rent a machine and sing all night long in your own home, but can you get room service to bring you strong mixed drinks and potato chips artfully arranged in a wine glass? I think not.
Things I don't miss about Japan.
-The food. I never, ever really got used to the food in Japan. There were a few kinds of food I really enjoyed eating -- the yakitori sold from street stalls, and the ramen at cheap 500 yen ramen places were very tasty -- but as a general rule the food was just always a trial. I found it very hard to eat things I couldn't recognize (although in some cases, knowing what kind of animal it came from was not an advantage.)
Eventually I just came to accept that for me, personally, food is not a fun adventure. I don't see virtue inherent in trying new and exciting types of food. I eat food because I am hungry, ideally tasty food which is enjoyable to eat. And if I am lucky when I am trying new foods, I'll find one that is tasty and that I enjoy eating, but it's a russian roulette that that will be the case and I'd basically get the same enjoyment as if I ate something I already know.
-My coworkers.
That sounds really mean, and I regret that I have to write it. Most of my coworkers were very nice, smart, good people. But for two years of living in Japan, of all the things that caused me stress -- standing up in front of the kids' classes, trying to get around in a place where I spoke none of the language, even manuevering the foreign health-care system -- the vast majority of my stress came from dealing with my coworkers.
I won't go into too much detail, mostly because it would just sound like whining and generally be in poor taste. I'll just say in a general sort of way that some of the stress was expected, unavoidable stress caused by having to learn a whole lot about teaching, education, the Japanese school system, the language, and the culture -- and some of it... wasn't unavoidable.
-Smokers. Japan allows smoking in most public buildings. Technically it was not allowed inside the school at all, which meant that only the principal and his guests could do it.
They had non-smoking cars on their trains, but since it was often switched from one car to another depending on the line, basically all the cars had a chance of reeking of tobacco.
-Sunsets.
In a weird way, which I think I have tried to describe before and failed, Japan was very much "land of the rising sun." Japan, or at least my part of it, had beautiful sunrises. Bright colors, clear shining sunlight as it came up to illuminate the horizon. The light in the mornings was always very strong, full of color, beautiful. But it had no sunsets. Whether it was the arrangement of the mountains, the proximity of the ocean, or whatever, Toyama did not have good afternoons or evenings. Rather than a strong warm afternoon light and a pretty sunset, the light in the afternoon would simply start to fade; and it would get dimmer and duller steadily over the evening until finally it just went out.
Oh Japan, I miss you still. You taught me so much about myself, about the world, about my own culture. I'm not sorry I left. I couldn't have stayed. But I still miss you.
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no subject
Date: 2009-07-19 02:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-19 02:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-19 04:32 am (UTC)I feel exactly the same way about London. Except, I would have stayed if I could have gotten a job and had Jay move there. Both of which are nigh impossible. It's good to be realistic about awesome experiences abroad. I think you paint a very pragmatic picture while still being very introspective and honest. Yay!
no subject
Date: 2009-07-20 02:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-19 06:02 pm (UTC)As a resident of the industrial northeast, I have a strong objection to bikes on the sidewalk because city sidewalks here aren't wide enough for bikes to safely occupy the same space as pedestrians; our roads and sidewalks are so narrow and our greenspaces so hotly in demand, as a pedestrian I've encountered as many near dangerous misses, as much aggressive behavior, and as much arrogance from bikers as I have from people driving cars (biking's a subculture/lifestyle here, too; there's a lot of practicality to it--lots of people bike for groceries and commuting--but a strong undercurrent of snobbery, too; i.e. why would you take the subway or a bus, when you could be as GREEN as ME on my BIKE?). And this is in Boston, which is legendary for its unsafe driving culture.
I think all cities ought to carefully planned, well-marked bike lanes and routes in addition to well-designed streets and pedestrian paths. There is no good combination of motor vehicles, bicycles, and foot traffic. I also want a pony.
no subject
Date: 2009-07-20 02:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-20 05:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-20 08:37 pm (UTC)That is the perfect summation of how I've been feeling for the past five years. I'm sorry you have to feel it too, it's so complicated and vexing, but I'm also glad because...it is what it is and was. And it's also comforting to know you're not alone.