The "Meal" Question

After my tongue lashing about the hair incident, it was time to break for lunch, Thank Goodness! We were reminded several times to be on time, as after lunch the CEO of the company was giving a presentation. We thought we'd hit up a restaurant for the break. Luckily one of the girls in the group had worked for the company previously, so her Japanese was great. We all clung to her like a baby chimp holds onto its mother, holding on for dear life and fretting about what we would do if she ever left our side. The ease of which Japan can be had when one knows the language, is so much more enjoyable and relaxing-Why didn't I study more before I came? once again was the guilt trip I replayed in my mind. Karla was a dime a dozen and we all wanted to befriend her!

Don't leave my side Karla!

We chose a little curry shop close to the training centre. The manager looked excited when the 8 of us approached, his nearly empty restaurant, especially when he heard Karla speaking fluent Japanese. We placed our orders quickly. I had to make the awkward announcement that I was vegetarian and needed Karla's help with ordering. "What, you don't eat me?" said the Australian guy, Toby, sitting next to me. The usual teasing jokes and remarks happened, which I'm used to. When the manager came over to greet us, Karla explained my dietary needs and what was the first of countless experiences, was about to occur. He pointed at the side garden salad, "This is the only vegetarian option". Uhhh! I thought,  it was becoming difficult to be a vegetarian here! I knew a garden salad wasn't going to fill me up, but ordered it anyways as the manager insisted it was a decent sized meal. My stomach was still rumbling by the end of the 'meal' and I knew I wouldn't get the opportunity to eat anytime soon. It felt like the Seinfeld "Soup" episode, where Jerry takes Kenny out for dinner and Kenny orders a soup, which then becomes the question throughout the show, whether a soup counted as a meal or not. I felt the same about my salad, I felt it didn't count and felt cheated by the manager in calling it a 'meal'.

The "Soup" Episode
(Season 6 Episode 7)

 Everyone else scarfed down there 'delicious' Japanese curries, which I may add are completely different to Indian curries. Japanese curries are usually made with a base of beef, chicken or pork which is saturated with other pieces of floating meat and a few speckled vegetables, the opposite of many Indian curries which are made with ease for vegetarians. It wasn't the most appetizing looking dish, in my opinion, it looked like processed gravy soup with a slab of rice on the side. I've never been able to try one, as there is no vegetable-only-curries I've ever seen, but I have heard it is quite good from friends.

A standard Japanese curry.

We quickly headed back to the meeting. None of us we willing to risk being late for the CEO, as there was no other impression that mattered the more than his! As no watches was on the never-ending taboo list, we all became paranoid about time (as only Toby had a cell phone). We hurried back and Brenda and I decided we needed to use the toilets quickly, before entering into the training room. We had five minutes, so we were fine for time, or so we thought...

Geezus cover that up!

We started walking back shortly after my plea to leave, the girls chatted away and I walked in silence, seeing flashing images of the man and his cut off finger. As soon as I got home, I lied down on my futon, looked up at the ceiling and started daydreaming about my encounter with the Yakuza man.  I was fascinated by it all. I hypothesized that he wasn't threatening me, but wanted to introduce the weird, computer-nerd, Gaijin (foreigner) girl to the Yakuza gang. He appeared and disappeared, as if he had been a ghost. His gang's hidden power and influence to be felt, but not so much as seen (much like many mafia gangs). I feel asleep still mesmerized by the experience.

I woke up early the next day for my last formal day of training. Next to my futon, I had the list of endless no's, that I had thought I had meticulously checked through, but yesterday the trainer looked me right in the eye and mentioned about the utmost importance in covering all tattoos. I have a very small, inoffensive tattoo on the back of my neck, but one of the no's listed was that I needed to have my pulled back and neatly in an up-do. Damn those Yakuza for adding to the taboo of tattoos in Japan! This was a difficult feat to pull off as I didn't want to cover my neck with ten pounds of makeup or wear a turtleneck in the 30+ heat. I found some spare Band-Aids leftover from the past tenants and decided I would have to use a few to cover up my tattoo. I looked in the mirror at the back of my neck and laughed. It was probably one of the most unlikely places to get cut and cause more second takes, than if my little tattoo was to be seen and forgotten. I'm pretty sure it's obvious to most onlookers that a 5'3 blond, young, gaijin woman is not a member of the Yakuza. Sporting these Band-Aids on my neck was something I couldn't pull off without looking like more of a weirdo, if only I of was as cool as Nelly!

Nelly pulling off the, generally
not-so-cool, Band-Aid look

The whole training session, I could feel the Band-Aids pull at my skin and the few straggling hairs that got caught in it and ripped out whenever I moved my head. On the hot walk to the training center,  I could feel the Band-Aids loosening with sweat from the ridiculous humidity factor. Argh this was annoying! And I was supposed to do this for the whole year?! I decided to put my hair down, mid way through the day. As soon as I did, I received a darting glare from my trainer, who made mention of it later to me in private. He talked to me as if I had done something totally offensive-like pull a Janet Jackson-super-bowl-stunt  for just for putting down my hair. Man this guy was intense, he wasn't Japanese he was Australian! I shouldn't have tested the water, it was after-all on the list of "no's," but I didn't think I could elicit such a reaction from someone because of something so innocent. This was going to be a LONG two weeks of training!

My Janet Jackson moment for putting down my hair
at the wrong place and wrong time!

My encounter with the Yakuza

Across the road beside a brightly lit Mr. Donuts (I was surprised to see donut shops are quite popular in Japan) sitting on a park bench was a woman with her laptop open. "Let's try over there,"  I enthusiastically stated. Voila! A perfect Internet connection in a tiny, somewhat shady park, sandwiched in between a donut shop and a convenience store. Who would have thought, here would be our place? We all sat down, flipped open our laptops and started getting our Internet fix. We were turning heads from everyone passing by, what were these three crazy foreign girls sitting in the park using an unlocked Wifi signal, is I'm sure what many were thinking? Our desperation had taken us far away from any polite manners and was saving us heaps of yen, to get the Internet for free. The first thing I did was hop on skype and call my boyfriend. Of course, the girls were doing the same. The signal was only strong in on area so we sat butt cheek to butt cheek, gabbing away over the traffic noises, people walking by and muttering what weirdos we were and over each other.

 Once I got a hold of my boyfriend, he of course was happy to hear from me but also annoyed with barely being able to hear me and seeing random passers by stopping and staring and me and me glancing up at them, tightening my grip on my laptop. It was a rather sketchy situation, three young woman sitting there with nice laptops on there knee. But this was Japan right, super safe..right?

Mid conversation I ceased talking and my mouth dropped. My boyfriend sensed something was up and was asking me "What's wrong?" Standing in front of me was a muscular, long-tattered haired, tattooed man with a slight smirk on his face, that made the hairs on my arm stand straight up. He looked at me and I stupidly stared back, in shock. I looked down at his fingers and saw one of them was missing. First thought that came into my head YAKUZA (Japanese mafia). He glared at me for another second then kept walking. My heart was in my throat. "I..I..I..saw Yakuza." The girls turned to me, "Where where?" they asked excitedly, as if they had just missed seeing Ashton Kutcher . I tilted my head at his back walking away. "Aww we missed it!" one of the girls said. I was freaked out. I told the girls it was getting late and maybe we should come back tomorrow. They said they'd be a couple more minutes. I left my poor boyfriend in a miserable state with our hard-to-hear, sketchy surroundings, skype chat.

The Yakuza are the largest mafia in Japan. I have heard about them back home, but never thought I would see one in the flesh! Many of you may have heard about this mafia gang from the Kill Bill movie where Lucy Liu was a Yazuka leader.

Lucy Liu, was not as scary as the Yakuza member I saw.

 Tattoos here are most often associated with Yakuza, as many of them have some type of tattoo to commemorate their membership. Many public places won't allow people in with tattoos, mostly because of the stigma Yakuza's have brought to it and to keep public areas, Yakuza-free. The man who was missing a finger, would have cut off his finger (called Yubitsume) as a type of apology or repentance for a mistake he has caused his group. Generally, I've heard, the Yakuza don't mess too much with foreigners, but at that time it did not bring me much comfort. I hoped never to see another frightening member again!

No Tattoos or scary Yakuza members allowed!

If your interested in reading up more about this, over 400 year-old running, Yakuza mafia group, check this out:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yakuza

Dunder Mifflin's paper success in Japan

We slipped off our (luckily clean) toilet slippers after dabbing ourselves down with bathroom tissue, to appear half decent for our employer. We bravely walked out one by one and entered into the training room. There were several others already present sitting at their assigned two-person desks. It felt like school again there were several desks and the girls and I almost rock-scissor-papered to find out who would sit with one another but we held back our childish ways and sat at the back tables. There was a pile of papers on our desks, just what I wanted more paper work (there seems to be an unlimited amount of paper supply here-as no question goes without being typed up neatly and needing to be answered on a sheet of paper)! Dunder Mifflin company stocks would sky rocket, if there fictional business were ran out of Japan!

Dunder Mifflin needn't struggle in Japan with
such an enormous paper demand.

The training came and went like a blur. The standards were covered, contracts, human resources policies, health and safety................................oops sorry dozed off there for a second re-encountering that day again. It was quite dull material, the stuff that's mandatory to cover with any workplace, but man is it work to sit there and keep your eyes open. Our trainer was an enthusiastic short, skinny, wide- grinned man with beady little eyes. If Internet was our drug, then our trainers was this company-except he never crashed from withdrawal! I watched, as I once did at school, the clock tick-tick until the minute hand hit 5:00pm! I practically jumped from my desk and was already packed and ready to go. I looked around as I was walking to the door to the others slowly packing up, making small chat with one another and I froze at the door, remembering I needed to be in adult mode now and make good impressions and all that jazz. I waited for the others as we put back on our shoes. We chatted with a couple of the other girls, one of which was the Daisy we had been calling out for. All of us were exhausted from the day so said we'd reconvene later for a possible late dinner.

On the walk home, Robin, Merran and I discussed how we were going to hunt down cheaper Internet after dinner. Merran and I the night before had tried every nook and cranny in our apartment to try to pick up an unlocked signal with out laptops. It was so desperately pathetic, both of us running around our flat holding our laptops calling out to each other, when we thought we'd catch a signal for a minute and lose it the next minute. It was driving Merran and I mad!

We ate our food as if we were competing for an eating competition and then set out with our laptops in hand to find Internet. Once again, we decided to hop on the train and once we left the ticket gates, before us was a sign with a computer and a wifi signal. YES! We all shouted in unison! Being the Internet addicts we were, we decided it was not weird to sit down by the sign and try out if it worked. Robin screamed "It works, it works!" Merran and I quickly loaded our Macs and sat there patiently trying to connect, but ours weren't working! Robin got on skype and was talking to a friend about how we were sitting in the middle of a train station, having tons of people giving us strange looks, with our three laptops open either standing or trying to share the one seat. Merran and I waited for Robin, my envious look burning into her PC and making me regret, just for a millisecond, my choice to get a Mac. Robin kindly lent me her wifi connected computer, as I'm sure I had the look of a person who had lost all hope.
Just before Merran took her turn, I looked up and pointed, "Look!"

Scuffing slipper zombies

Early the next morning we arose, dressing sharply armed with notepads and pencils all aligned in a neat row. Once again, the 'fall' weather was peaking around 30 degrees at 8:00am and we were all soon soaked in our own sweat, even at the leisurely pace we were keeping.  We were attempting to fan ourselves with our books to create a gush of wind, moving our clothing in any direction that would cause some relief from the heat. Resistance from the heat was futile.  We decided to up our pace and spend a few minutes in the bathrooms trying to recover ourselves. Many Japanese people carry fans or umbrellas around with them, which of course we didn't think of at the time, and being that 3 of us were Canadian, cold was what we prepared- not humidity and scalding hot weather.

Maybe not the best image
to show great fashion
paired with bad slippers, but
it doesn't add any
points to the outfit either!

We approached the Training Centre and had to take off our shoes and put on the designated slippers, which to be honest kind of grossed me out, thinking about how many people's feet have been in there before mine, Ew! One of the girl's grumbled about picking out the perfect shoes for her outfit, and having it wrecked by throwing on a cream coloured, plain pair of slippers. Good point, if no one saw you come in the door, you could get away with wearing the dirtiest, ripped, mud clogged shoes and not make a bad impression, because you take them in before you entered.

In Japan many people take fashion here quite seriously. I don't think I've ever encountered such masses of people looking as put together and fashionable in general, as I have in Japan (especially Tokyo). It's an interesting contradiction though to me, this slipper practice, as it creates any designer or wonderfully put together outfit, look ridiculous. I get the cleanly logic, but aren't socks enough? I mean slipping on a pair of slippers something my Grandfather would pick out, matched with my designer dress, doesn't really scream out this new season's fashion statement.

These are even the nicer of styles of slippers I've
seen, that are mandatory to put on
before entering someone's house,
restaurant or other places
of gathering.

I have a few more qualms with this slippers practice here, aside from the fashion faux pa, I must discuss. Firstly, many of the slippers come in two sizes, adult and child. There is a huge difference between these sizes, so your left with Shaquille O'neal size slippers, attempting to keep them on and not to break your neck while walking down stairs (I came close a few times) or parading around in ridiculously small children's slippers, that can only hold a quarter of your foot inside of it.

Shaquille O'neal seeing if China
wants to join the bandwagon and design
slippers to his size.

People naturally make this scuffing noise while walking, a similar sound I imagine, to if a zombie were slowly approaching you from behind. I'd much prefer the clink-clank of high heels any day to the sounds of a zombie! Many of the entrances, which you must remove your shoes and put on the slippers, if not well kept, stink with an array of foot odors. I save something scarier than the sounds of a zombie behind you for last, there are also another set of slippers you must put on before entering into a toilet. If you are using a squat toilet, in a bar let's say, (I have seen this with my own eyes several times) I've seen back splashes of urine drops stained onto these slippers from wobbly drunkards before you, that you must put on! Frightening! It is so taboo to walk around without slippers that people will turn bug-eyed and horrified, as if you were a half alive, rotting human, because you refused to put on the designated uncomfortable, stinky, unfashionable slippers!

Watch out the scuffing slipper zombie is coming after you!

A day with the Queen

Before the Queen of England
the best of you is expected,
much the same as walking
into an office building in Japan.

For you youngsters, putting
on your best manners
for the Queen of Pop,
Ms. Lady Gaga
(who really cares about
the Queen right?).

Once I arrived home I prepped myself by looking at our Training First Day Manual given to us upon arrival to our apartment. I made a vow to myself to not make another disastrous impression of myself (even though about fifteen minutes earlier I could add another bad impression to my list, with getting pegged as the "Daisy" yeller)! Looking at the manual, I had not yet bothered to open, I was shocked to see it went something like this: Dress: Business Formal, No tattoos showing, No heavy makeup, No jewelry, No holes in socks, No watches, No unkept or dyed hair, No piercing. A list of continuous No, No, No's were crammed in small font, on to about two pages! It was as if we were meeting the Queen of England that day (For you youngsters, putting on your best manners for the Queen of Pop, 

 Ms. Lady Gaga (who really cares about the Queen right?)! 

What were we signing up for, I thought we were just going to English teachers for kids? 

In Japanese business culture, appearances and conduct are ran with such precise rules, that perfection on every level is expected from each worker, once stepping foot inside their place of work. It was not like any other job I had had, with how many stipulations were demanded of me. I get that newbies, even back home, are usually given the, "This-is-the-most-important-job-in-the-world" speech, but honestly with the endless list of stipulations-this company seemed to be taking it to that level. I was seriously imagining the Queen of England or Lady Gaga (for the youngsters who really wouldn't mind having poor manners in front the Queen, but Lady Gaga on the other hand you'd be on your best behaviour) to be a guest speaker, or maybe we'd be on some crazy Japanese TV program and had to look our best!