Meet My Archnemesis!

Robin C, thankfully, started coming around after taking the antihistamines and was trying to do whatever she could to get it under control, so she wouldn't have to go to the hospital. The company employers look satisfied and told Karla to look after her until she could return to training. They shoed me back into the training area and said she was fine. The trainer acted as if nothing happened and carried on the training as robotic and cold as ever. I was worried about Robin C, even though I barely knew the girl-but I did have a heart! I was also worried about they way my new employer reacted to the situation and thought nervously about what would happen to me, if I had found myself in an emergency situation here.

We continued on with the by-the-book, but not in-real-life, health and safety presentation. Robin C joined the group an hour or so later and said she was feeling a lot better, after almost finishing the package of antihistamines. Emergency adverted, whewf! A new trainer stepped in for the next section,  First Aid training. It happened to be the same man who dropped me off at my apartment and woke me up a few days later. I was still a little bitter about it but brushed it aside, as little did I know he would get his own annoyance soon enough...

The man ran through a condensed version of the Japanese First Aid course (each country has there own slightly altered version of what to do in emergency situations). Up until this point, there had been a outsider making herself known to the group as such, that had been slowly been driving me to the brink of insanity. She was an overweight, dark haired, outspoken, loud and abrasive Canadian. Her know-it-all attitude, immaturity, social incapability and overly try-hard personality, made it almost impossible for anyone of us to like her.

As interruption had become one of her many annoying talents, she started up with a ten minute story about her bruised arm when she was five, which ended up being completely irrelevant, boring and just a desperate need for her to hear herself talk. Even the trainer was squirming, politely trying to "uhuh, hmm and ah" his way to cue for her to stop herself, which failed. After a huge, solo belly chuckle and a clap, she stopped and let the trainer speak.

The man continued on with this presentation.. ah wait pause.. another hand shot up like an eager three-year old. This girl, who I will refer to as Big B, was starting to drive everyone bonkers! The people in the room would shuffle in their seats uncomfortably, make deep sighing noises or have a dog- like sneer on there faces directed towards her, but she just didn't get it! Big B would stretch any training session, for at least an additional hour, because of her lame stories, questions that were already answered or stated in the previous sentence, or a correction to the trainer to which she thought she knew more about.

We were discussing the Heimlich maneuver, when a pudgy hand shot up. The trainer had barely begun his presentation and had been side-tracked by Big B several times already. Big B decided to stand up this time, because her whole body was practically trembling in rage. "That's not how you do it!" she rudely yelled. "I'm a qualified First Aid Trainer for the last two years in Canada and that is not what we learned and would never teach anyone to ever do!" she smugly added. The trainer bit his tongue, swallowed, took in a deep breath and tried to calmly state that even though he was originally from Canada as well, that this was the Japan's version of First Aid, that was taught and recognized here and would be what was expected of us teacher's to do in an emergency situation. I would have honestly sat there quietly, if he had said pick a child up by it's feet and dangle him or her upside down if they were choking, because I knew in a emergency situation, I would be the one to make the call on what action I would need to take. I'm pretty sure all of us had our First Aid Certificates as is, since we were dealing with children, so could make a reasonable judgement. The argument that lasted for almost twenty minutes (yes I kept time), and was about how in Japan's First Aid version when someone is choking first try striking them with the underside of your palm in an upward motion to remove the choking object, before trying the Heimlich maneuver. Big B was bright, red and shaking, she was so outraged that this was even mentioned. The trainer was getting more up in her face and the epic cringe-worthy battle began. All fifteen of us sat there uncomfortably in a circle, watching the mayhem of this argument unfold. Eventually the trainer pretty much told her she could leave if she was not going to abide and respect the companies policies. Big B finally decided to shut her mouth, as flying from Canada to Japan, spending countless hours and cash on visas and flights and getting nearly fired within a two day span of a training session, was probably worth her keeping her opinions to herself.

After breaking for lunch, finally, it was in that moment that I knew I had met my archnemesis...

It's on..new archenemy Batman and Big B (or Penguin in this photo)

A piece of meat

Poor girl, an octopus allergy seems like something you would chuckle at in the Doctor's office, once they told you what your allergy was, as back in England (where she was from), I'm sure it isn't quite a common ingredient to be included in a meal; but Japan was a different story. Japan is a food orientated culture is an understatement. They are a food obsessed culture, especially when it comes to seafood. I remember my brother describing Japan's take on seafood was like if someone walked into the ocean, pulled out a sea-cucumber, or any other creature for that matter, it would be chopped upped, plated and served and probably regarded as delicious (which I hold back from judgement, if it actually is or not). Octopus is a dish I don't think I've ever seen anywhere else, but allergies become on high alert in Japan, as the variety of types of foods put before you, increases.

Braised octopus with honey and saffron.
Can't lie, this does not look
appetizing at all to me.

Robin C didn't have her EpiPen (adrenaline shot) with her and was starting to panic. Her throat was swelling up and she was feeling nauseated and faint. We took a break and the trainer and a few of us, myself included, walked Robin C into an empty room, to try to figure out what to do. I was fanning Robin C, with Karla, and encouraging her to drink water. The words that kept floating around from the three company employers present were, "..hospital, health insurance, company won't pay." Robin C didn't have any health insurance and a cost to the hospital would have set her back hundreds of dollars. Someone luckily had an antihistamine and she took a handful of those. The company employers sounded like scripted robots, "We recommend you appoint a doctor, but be advised the company will not pay or reimburse you for any hospital or medical costs." The poor girl was just trying to focus on breathing, let alone trying not to have a panic attack, because she didn't have that type of money with her. They consistently were bombarding her with questions about wire transfers, getting to an ATM before they took her to the hospital and other such nonsense! Way to make her like a piece of meat! What was being discussed, with Robin barely able to squeak out a word, shouldn't be talked about until that person's health and well-being is taken care of!

Ironic, how we were discussing the topics of healthy and safety and now we were faced head-on with an emergency situation and what was being ignored was health and safety of this girl, and what was more important was how the company didn't want to fork out the bill. "What kind of company had I signed up for", I drearily thought.

An unexpected turn for the worse

All my sucking up paid off by the end and I think my tardiness was forgotten by the CEO by the end of his presentation. It wasn't so important to me to me to make sure I sucked up to the boss, but it was important to me to be able to know that I still had enough social skills, that seemed to have left me the minute I entered Japan,  to start anew from a bad impression. We briefly breaked for five minutes and Brenda and I shared in our embarrassment from the late entry. We made sure this time we were a minute early and made a pack never to be late again.

We sat down to listen to our next section of the training, which was healthy and safety. About half and hour went by and my eyes were drooping again. I wish I had brought those fake mustache and eye glasses, but not surprisingly, 'no mustache' was on the list-Damn they thought of everything!

This guy is a pro!
I would like to shake his hand one day.

There were two girls sitting behind me, Danielle and Robin (same name different girl, so "Robin C" is what she will be named hereafter). I heard some muttering back and forth, which was starting to get louder. My eyes opened and I looked behind me, wondering if they were playing the, "call-out-sequentially-louder-fill-in-the-blank-inappropriate-word-game," because I wanted to play. Robin C raised her hand and the trainer gave her an annoyed head tilt to say she could speak. "I think I'm going to be sick!" Robin C called out. Whoa that caught  me off guard, I thought she was going for first place game. "I'm severely allergic to octopus and I think my lunch had traces of it in it," she further explained. Now she had the trainers attention. She was as white as a ghost and I was concerned for her and myself. I was sitting right in front of her, and well within vomit range...

Time is of the essence

I finished up in the toilet and waited for Brenda. I was fixing my up-do when a man pokes his head into the female toilets. "We're waiting for you!" he bellowed at us. Brenda just opened up the stall door and we both exchanged looks of dread. I ran out the door and Brenda tailed behind. "Shit, shit, shit!" I mumbled to myself. The trainer was holding open the door his face scowling at us. We could see inside the door the CEO was sitting at the front and all heads turned to the door to see the late-comers. I think we were maybe one minute late, but one minute could be one hour in Japan. It was lectured to us several times, in the course of the last day, that in Japan lateness is not tolerated even by a minute. I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to walk in confidently. I had to face, yet again, my newfound, perpetual habit of making bad impressions in Japan. Everyone's eyes were on us, even Robin and Merran's with looks of sympathy. The CEO was a cute, balding, petite Japanese man who looked the least bit threatening. I gave him a little smile, as he watched Brenda and I do the walk of shame, but then his eyes shot daggers at me. I shriveled into my chair near the front, mortified. What was wrong with me?? How did I make it through so many other impressionable encounters, in my twenty plus years of life, so flawlessly and now couldn't even half-ass a few here!

I decided, I would have to put on my Hermoine Granger pants and suck up like I've never sucked up before! Bad impressions could be turned around, the last few days were proof of that! I was throwing up my hand at every question enthusiastically, dropping larger than normal words, nodding my head in agreement at every word passed from his lips and even started the slow clap at the end of his presentation!

My Hermoine Granger suck up act, to win back points
for my tardiness.

Time is treated with such respect in Japan, which is a change from what the norm is in many Western countries. Buses are late, people show up a few minutes late for work, drinks, parties, etc and it's almost a given.  The term "Fashionably late," makes lateness seem more cool, to leave your friends, family or colleagues, waiting for your grand arrival. A 5-20 minute buffer zone is given to most people on any given task, so of course people take advantage and time becomes a more flexible, yet rushed phenomenon. In Japan time is exact and precise, there is no buffer zone, no flexibility and less rush. Time is much more orderly and easy to understand, clock strikes one o'clock and one second and your late, doors locked or trains passed. I have come to love the orderliness and prefer it to the counterpart of the West and what concepts of time I've come to know. Traveling and living in many countries I've seen the differences of cultural time and I think Japan has it down-pat. People are less rushed and stressed,  I rarely see people running for trains or getting upset for buses or trains that are running late, because it just doesn't really happen. My friend even told me that Japan has the best transportation system in the world, which I wouldn't doubt, and that even in Tokyo with an average of 6.33 million passengers each day (in 2009), if a train was delayed for any reason, each of the 6.33 million people would get a note of apology from JR (Japan Railways) to give to there employers, stating it was there fault, because lateness is such an uncommon occurrence they can make promises such as these.

This was one fault, that was completely my own, and I made a promise to myself to watch the time, through the eyes of the efficient timely people of Japan.

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