In limbo at Nagoya train station

I reached my destination, Nagoya, with my bag, map and dignity hanging by a thread. I arrived with plenty of buffer time, in case I accidentally fell into a black hole, while stepping off the Shinkansen (you can never be too prepared). I decided to take my bag off and found a seat in one of the Waiting areas. My back was killing me, the 22 kg overweight bag I got away with on Jetstar, was now taking it's toll! I sat beside a big screen TV, which was playing a Japanese soap opera. I had no idea what the characters were saying but it was novel and interesting to me so I watched intently. It was about an average, traditionally dressed family. Out of the half hour of watching this presumable soap opera, I honestly didn't see anything exciting happened. Maybe my blinks coincided with all the exciting clips, but I also didn't see anyone else around me laugh, gasp or have much of a reaction to the show. I am by no means a soap opera connoisseur, but compared to the few times I have been forced into watching a cheesy, soap operas, like Shortland Street or Hollyoaks, this one at best was dry. I was expecting a crazy Japanese game show, with people doing ridiculously embarrassing stunts, dressed up like Borat at there niece's graduation-or something to that extent. I was hoping I would get another chance to watch more Japanese TV to see something a little more exciting.

A young Japanese mother sat down beside me and smiled. She had on a backpack and was trying to take it off, while holding onto her baby. I couldn't resist but to help her , even though I knew there would be little words exchanged. So I helped guide her bag to the floor and played back catch in case the baby slipped down. She thanked me in Japanese and damn it I forgot how to say, "Your welcome." I nodded and smiled, while racing through my head to find that phrase I knew I had learned before. How much time can elapse before you should just let it go? Probably a few seconds or then people will start to question your level of brain functioning. I had to let it slide and remained silent, awkwardly nodding and smiling at her. When she left a few minutes later, I hastily grabbed my phrase book to remember the word I was looking for. Ah the frustrations of learning another language! I looked at the time almost had killed the hour that I had gave myself extra for unknown reasons and decided to tackle the Nagoya inner city subway lines.

The Shinkansen Experience Pt 2

I did manage to make it to the Shinkansen ticket office, without the experience of a groping (one I wouldn't mind not having a cultural taste of). I scrambled up to the ticket clerk and panicked, as I was reaching for my ticket I realized, that tiny ticket, worth about 12 dollars, was no longer in my possession. The clerk sat there patiently, as I unzipped every pocket in my purse and checked over my pockets several times, while muttering to myself how I knew it was in there. I managed to muddle some faint resemblance to Japanese something like, "I'm sorry, no ticket, bought Shin Osaka station." She tightly smiled and nodded. I felt like such a chump, as I  have read up on some travelers advice websites to just say "lost my ticket" (even though no ticket was bought) and they will likely let you (a foreigner) get away with it.  I was starting to perspire trying to figure out how to tell her I could buy the ticket again from the station by my hostel, but managing only to say it in very slow, enunciated English. She still sat there with the polite smile, nodding, judging, which made me even more nervous. I'm not really sure what happened and how I ended up communicating with her, but it ended up being quite an awkward five minutes. I told her where I was going and she printed off a ticket, I paid my fare and bolted. It's unbelievably rare for me to start sweating because I'm nervous in a situation, and maybe it was my bag that I was carrying that weighed as much as me, or the humid temperature, but I knew it had to be partially because of that smiling, poised Japanese woman. Reflecting back on it, I'm one of those people that really detests clowns, the fake smile and jubilant persona puts me on edge (and perhaps because I watched the movie "IT" when I was younger). This lady had, not as exaggerated as a clown, a level of phoniness, that could not be denied. I know she was cursing me under her breath, another cheap foreigner trying to break the rules, but smiled and thanked me just the same. It made me feel like such a boob.

I tried not to despair and to keep my head up. I was going to jump on board on of the fastest trains in existence! The infamous bullet train (the theme music to  St. Elmo's Fire was starting)! Speed records have been broken and competition between the train and airlines often occur, getting the passenger there in the fastest, most comfortable way.  One of the bullet trains (also known as the Shinkansen...apologies for the late clarification) broke the current speed record, by breaking 443.0 km/hr (275mph)! Nothing compared to an airplane, but once you take out the hassle of security and boarding-the Shinkansen is a step above! If you do get a chance to be in Japan, I highly recommend trying out the Shinkansen and enjoying the best transportation system in the world (no sarcasm intended)!

I had booked an unreserved fare, so I did not have an assigned seat, but did save myself about $50.  To my surprise, a Wednesday 11:30 morning train, was packed (I must have a gold fish memory)! I walked down the cart aisles and found a middle seat free in between a skinny Japanese woman and a suited businessman. I haphazardly attempted to lift my enormous bag, to fit it in the shelf above and to my rescue a nice Japanese fellow, maybe a few inches taller than me, began to help me push. "Arigato" I said, as he bowed to me. I was sweaty and disgusting, even from being out of my hostel shower just over an hour ago. The Japanese woman beside me had a neatly packed Bento box and she so delicately opened it up and ate it  cautiously, putting her hand up to her mouth every time she chewed, as if she was scared of offending people by her inaudible chewing noises. I scrummaged to find a half melted chocolate bar in my carry on bag and attempted to mimic her graceful style, but ended up looking like a goof in comparison chocolate most likely having melted all over my face. I tried to relax. I did have about two hours before reaching Nagoya. I found it hard to relax though. The few quick stops that did occur, I felt I had to listen several times and wait for the English to appear. I continually double check myself so I didn't get off at the wrong station and end up in a completely different city stranded.

My employer had sent me a letter, stating I needed to be in Nagoya at this date and time. I would have to make my way to the Head Office (in the middle of nowhere) to check in. Also provided was a shady hand draw map to "help" me get there. I was put off about the situation and lack of help from them, but also felt slightly anxious about how I could ever pull off a 'good impression' with my ginormous bag, sweat stains and probable stench. But I didn't really have much of a choice. I wondered how all the other English teachers were in making there way through the maze of Japan, but I soon found out I was the only one.

Japanese version of Shinkansen

One of the Shinkansen trains

The Shinkansen Experience Pt 1

So I managed to find my way to the Shinkansen ticket office. I had to take two other trains to get there, (Osaka is Huge!) and was crammed in the most awkward, contortionistic  positions, all the while trying to hold onto my backpack that could easily have fit a circus of midgets inside of it. I was trying not to breath, as it might be accused I was trying to do mouth-to-mouth rescue on someone! I also struggled to avoid eye contact with the people pressed up to me in the most intimate of ways, even if there face was two inches away from mine and in no way could my eyes fully avert from their own. All to easily someone could have moved there hand, into an area that is at all times reserved, without any difficulty or disturbance to the people wedged in beside you.

There is a phenomenon of groping that is very common on the trains of Japan, to the extent that there are 'Women Only' areas.

My first thought about this was, yes that makes sense, overcrowded trains at night with women not wanting to get followed out by some creep or becoming a victim of pick pocketing. But no, once I spoke to my Japanese friends and noticed the different train line hours for, 'Woman Only' carts, it was because of this phenomenon of men groping at polite Japanese woman (and probably girls) when the most concentrated amount of men would be on the train (after work). It would be improbable, for a Japanese woman to point out her accuser, if she could even find him, and make a scene about the assault. This is quite the contrast from many Western women, where OK there is a small chance that you might be groped in a crowded bar or nightclub (not that it's fine or should be acceptable), but on the train...very very doubtful! I think the more unlikely of a situation a  Western woman would suspect a risk of being groped,the more of a dramatic scene would erupt. Japanese men though, have a much more powerful and dominant place in this culture and subtle, polite changes, that don't necessarily state the behaviour is wrong, are put in place to prevent the frequency of the assaults, but does not attempt to eradicate them  (There will be another blog to follow about the dichotomy of the sexes in Japan).

To be continued...

"Engwish""

I woke up early the next day, excited because I was about to embark on my first Shinkansen experience. I was a little nervous with my directions to get there, as I had foolishly assumed that the hostel staff would have spoken basic English to help...but this I've learned is an all-to-common mistake made in Japan. Just because there is English posted all over brochures, websites, pictures or signs, does not mean that there is a high likelihood that anyone there can speak the language, or for that matter, that the English you see will make any sense to you. The amount of English signs, as you walk around the major cities of Japan, gave me a false sense of security.

At first glimpse, I was comforted by the familiarity of the letters and words, amongst the beautiful but otherwise meaningless Japanese symbols, but just as quickly I realized, I felt way more confused.  I felt even more lost and perplexed by something, I believed, I had a solid grounding on. Even the confidence I felt I had in the English language had drastically been diminished! My brain naturally struggled to sort through what these half English, half alien postings could mean. "Engwish," as it has been dubbed by several of my friends, seems to be a blend between English and nonsense. A prime example is a shirt I purchased the other day, and I quote:

" Some Wondera
lurk in this stuff Being surrounded by my
favorites Feeling a longing for momentary beauty
This article is turning me on I dont' know the reason why,
thought I'm pleased with myself in my
present frame of mind Having my favorites at hand
I love the interval of time taht runs matter of factly
longing for this ambient atmosphere I like the present situation
very much I love to be deeper in meditation
THIS HEALING IT'S THE BEST"

Reading that shirt meant I had to purchase it, because it encompasses the "Engwish", I commonly face. The words tossed in like a salad comes out with driftless punctuation, awkward  and misspelt words, and even unintentional sexual innuendo (I'm including a woman at my bank wearing a T-shirt proclaiming, "I am lost I have not found any intimacy in a long time" or the countless young students I teach, that have some sort "cool" English T-shirt their Mom's bought them stating that they are a "Playboy bunny").

Now don't get me wrong, not all the signs or posts with English on them, are to this extent a debacle of the English language, but as a newbie entering into this culture, it is another hurdle to jump over. And once again, the confidence I believed I had, was showing more and more potential for full annihilation.

All things cute

I arrived at a decent hour at my hostel, drenched in sweat from Japan's notorious humidity. Even in September, it felt like a sauna, peaking around thirty degrees. I felt so drained but I was pleasantly surprised,  I had managed to navigate my way through the Osaka subway and through the streets of Japan to my quaint hostel. My iPod was my saviour it always helps me control my nerves when I travel. During the train rides the soothing music of Death Cab For Cutie, reassuring me that they 'will follow me into the dark." I dropped my bags and luckily no one was in my room; the last thing I felt like was socializing. I jumped into the airplane-sized shower and tried to rinse away the stresses of the day. I got out and was immediately soaked in sweat again! My body wasn't used to the climate change, plus I'm not used to this phenomenon as I'm a girl I don't sweat, I glisten. Once I got out I decided to grab a bite to eat from the grocery store.

Now if you've never been to a grocery store in Japan, it's quite the experience! At some groceries there are TV screens sandwiched in-between your produce and veg with happy-go-lucky Japanese people smiling at you and indicating how good this product is for you. The background music is a bizarre array of music, ranging from classical to pop to hardcore rap music. All the while 4 foot nothing Japanese grandma's walk past, looking up at you and smiling, not having a clue that there is a vivid description of  raunchy sex scene happening with the rapper and all his hos. The English music that is chosen seems to be solely on the grounds that contains English, although most people don't understand what there singing about, nonetheless I supposed they enjoy it's tune or random gangster babbling or maybe just hearing English?

I walked around with my basket trying to look for something that I knew at least half the ingredients it contained. There is a completely different selection of goods and most of them are things you may never know until you try it. The packaging in Japan is insane! Everything is wrapped up several times in smiling, cute, little animation characters that are shouting at you to buy them! It's hard a urge to resist buying almost everything you see on a whim because it's so darn cute! I made a few of those purchases, including chocolate panda miniature cookies. I was excited to hit up the liquor section. There were rows and rows of beers and hard liquor that could be purchased with your groceries (Canada really needs to change this)..all the while being desperately cheap! A couple tall boys of Asahi beer would do it I thought, a little unwinding and celebration. I took my purchases to the checkout and was surprised that every item's price is told to you by the clerk as its scanned in. Now I worked a checkout job before, at Rona, and I can't imagine a cart full of items coming up along side me and having to read out e-v-e-r-y single item to the customer, while they can clearly see it on the register in front of them. But Japan seems to like things to be transparent for the buyer, maybe as a means to reassure that buying those ten nonessential, cute, little panda chocolates was a good choice after hearing and seeing the price. I guess I had been warned..

A start to get you up-to-speed..

I had hardly any help from my company disembarking my flight, so I was on my own! I arrived at the Kansai, Osaka airport feeling confident, smiling and bowing trying my Pimsler's Japanese out, "Konnichiwa-Hello" and "Arigato-Thanks" on the airport staff. There was a foreigner man I saw, once we got to the baggage carousel walking around looking completely terrified and confused, shifting his gaze unintentionally towards me, as if somehow I could ease his sense of panic (as were we both clearly not Japanese and one of the few foreigners there). I smiled at him sympathetically and knew he'd probably try to talk to me. I was right, he scurried along to make sure he was standing close to me in the customs lineup. I casually walked up to the customs agent, put my thumb on the scanner and looked into the camera, as it took my criminal line up picture..no biggie was the air of confidence I was feeling. I could feel his admiration radiating from behind me. After that he caught up to me, asking if I had been to Japan before, I shrugged coolly and said no. He told me about how he was here going to visit a friend but he was confused as to where to meet him and fumbled with his cell phone to try to dial his number. I felt kind of bad for him, but I had to set off on my own..this trip was about my individual exploration after all-so I wasn't going to cling to the first other foreigner I met, warily greeting Japan with shaking knees. No, I was going to do it with style and class! So I said goodbye and strolled along, threw my ginormous bag over my shoulders and fearlessly walked towards the help desk to ask where the train was.

A few moments later standing at the Osaka Kansai airport terminal, my confidence was shot down! I quickly transformed into an awkward foreigner pressing random buttons to try to figure out how to get a ticket. OK, don't panic I thought as I walked to the attendant:

Me: "Do you understand English" (in Japanese)
Attendant:" DuhiuFHUESDbia sahiu" (in Japanese)
Me: "I don't understand you" (in Japanese)

Shit OK, that didn't work. So I tried my luck again at the gambling train ticket machine.  As I was pushing away at random buttons like a monkey on a typewriter,  I heard English being spoken. I turned to my side and there was a middle-aged couple, that looked like they had a better idea than I did with the machine. I walked over and asked if they could help me. "Not now!"the man practically barked at me. I was taken aback by his harshness. I guess that's what Japan can do to you, even within a few minutes of touching ground, make the most confident person crumble in its confusion and strangeness. Confidence begins to seem highly correlated with one's own cultural barring and could crash and burn once entering into a completely different culture.  I was certainly feeling more and more hopeless.  Luckily, my airplane seat buddy who happened to be Japanese, strolled up and asked if she could help me. I was so relieved to see her, as I'm sure I had the 'deer-in-the-headlights' look plastered on my face. She was a very sweet lady with broken English, but more-or-less talked me through where to go and tried to help me with my google map of where my hostel was from the main Osaka station. She hurried off bowing and saying 'bye bye' to me. Now it was my turn to be the scared confused man I saw earlier, as all I really wanted was to hold her hand and have her guide me through the maze of confusion that I had got myself into.

The Pilot

So here I am. Entering into the world of blogging, a little more worthwhile than the countless hours on Facebook, but not on the top of my list of high productive goals either. Well I'm hoping to let off a little steam and in the process have some entertaining and anecdotal value to the outside viewer.

I moved to Japan September 2010 and even though almost five months doesn't seem like a hell of a lot of time, it is! One Sunday night after having an hour long conversation with my brother (who had lived in Japan a few years ago), I decided "what the hay" apply to teach English in Japan and see what happens. Little did I know that the company I had signed up for sling shoots it's employees into Japan, so you have little time to think "Wait a minute is this a good idea?" Setting off on this exciting, unknown adventure seemed a great idea at the time -but not everything is as glamorous or thrilling as what my imagination initially creates a picture of. Things are always greener on the other side-is the hindsight quick to come to my mind after my arrival in Japan.

After my interview a few days after submission of my application, I was sent my arrival package and all the visa fixings to go along side. I read through articles, YouTube videos and heard stories about Japan and to be honest, I was scared. Japan is such a different world and no matter how many people tell you this, it doesn't fully click until you are in it. How am I ever going to survive in a place where individual expression is highly frowned upon, woman are treated far below there male counterparts and 44% of the population that claims to be Buddhist (according to the US Department of State website) has no idea what a vegetarian eats!? I knew I was in over my head, but that was the challenge that I had set off on to achieve. This would be a 180-degree turn from my North American mindset, a cultural earthquake that shakes the stable ground of my cultural upbringing.

Up to his point I had traveled to many countries, including, India, Europe, Egypt, Malaysia, Mexico, the Caribbean to name a few, but had only lived in my adult life in Canada, Scotland, New Zealand, Australia and now Japan. I should mention too that I lived in Yemen as a child, which is a very different culture in itself, with many more extremities than Japan, men carrying guns like a casual handbag, woman covered head to toe in black cloth in plus 40 degree weather, or tensions of a war to breakout over what we (Westerners) perceive as something minuscule. This is what I had in mind, that if I had  lived a pretty happy existence as a child in Yemen, how hard could Japan really be...but I was wrong!

Japan has a very odd quality that it can be seen by not fully understood unless part of the very large Japanese clique. Of course my viewpoints are biased and skewed based on my experiences here and although my blog may heavily be weighed on the hardships and the oddity of the Japanese ways of life, I do feel a strong affinity towards Japan and all its quirkiness.