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Except they spelled my name wrong.

Also, new photos have been added to the February album.

New Video:

Video Log 1-28-2012: Mt. Koya

Video Log 12-25-2011: Christmas in America

This past weekend I went to Mt. Koya, a huge destination for all things buddhism. Buddhist temples, history, museums, even graves. I thought the trip would be highly enjoyable. Unfortunately, though, I was sick. I thought it was just a simple cold, so I went anyway. But as the trip progressed, things got worse until I told my companions I was heading back.

I meant to go to the grocery store and gas station (my heater needed gas) on Sunday when I returned. But I was feeling so bad, and shaking pretty bad, so instead I just went to bed.

I dragged myself out of bed on Monday morning, convinced I was well enough to go to school. Soon, though, I asked to leave early with sick leave.

A little while later, I took myself to the doctor. My supervisor said she couldn’t go with me, but she also reminded me that the doctor spoke excellent English. “Why didn’t I think of that?” I thought to myself.

I walked into the clinic at 5:15 and, after some broken Japanese with the receptionist, sat down and waited for my turn. I wasn’t seen until 6:00, which was a little unusual, but hey- being seen at all, without an appointment, is pretty good.

The doctor asked about my symptoms, then took a nasal swab to determine whether or not I had the flu. Attendants processed the test there, and the doctor called me in a few minutes later to confirm, yes, I did have the flu. He then spent some time explaining the medicine routine he planned for me, along with how to take the meds. (There was an unusual inhaler, or at least one I’d never seen, that he explained to me.) In all, he gave me 3 routines: one for the flu virus, one to keep my fever in check, and one for my sore throat.

The total came to 2600 yen, about $30. They filled the prescription there, and then another nurse or pharmacist (who also spoke excellent English), made sure I understood the medication.

All of this for a registered alien.

Keep in mind I pay Japanese taxes. They’re taken out of my paycheck. But still- imagine the big stink that politicians in the US would raise over insuring aliens in the US- whether or not those aliens pay taxes.

I’m not a politician. Or doctor or pharmacist. All I know is…

… I’m starting to feel a hell of a lot better.

We ain’t that bad.

I want you to imagine a country filled with white people. Not only that, but white people all from the same country. No immigrants. Everyone’s local. Everyone has exactly the same cultural background, no variations. You look around, and everyone is

just

like

you.

That’s Japan. Does Japan have culture? Absolutely. It has Japanese culture. It knows Japanese culture. But aside from that, that’s really about it. It is a truly homogeneous culture.

Yeah, I guess America’s not Europe with all those cool countries smashed together and so many opportunities to travel. (Which, by the way Americans, is blown out of proportion. Travelling inside Europe is still pretty expensive.) But we’re culturally aware. We have a variety of religions and religious holidays. We enjoy tons of food. And we like to experience other cultures. The average American can explain Ramadan, the secular celebration of Christmas, Hanukkah, Passover, tattoos, piercings, how different Christian sects differ, where different breads come from in the world, how to use chopsticks, and the origin of Santa Claus. That American has probably also been inside a cathedral, a synagouge, and maybe even a mosque, no matter what the person’s religion is. Additionally, you can probably ask the average American what his/her favorite food and drink is by major country.

Japan, on the other hand, knows only Japan. I get that. What I don’t get, though, is the experience part. I don’t get why it’s so fascinating to Japanese people that I can use chopsticks, sleep on a futon, eat and cook Japanese food, and like to play Go. It’s as if Japanese people expect me to know what those things are, instead of doing them. I love to experience Japan.

In the beginning, I’d be curious. Depending on the situation (bar) I might even go up and introduce myself to them. Finding a foreign person, someone you could actually talk to, was like finding the one kind of jellybean you want in a bag.

But then something interesting happened. I realized that, despite having moved halfway across the world to be here, despite having a similar job or age, a lot of us didn’t really get along.

Go figure.

I was talking to a friend of mine about it one day.

“I don’t get it. We’re all adults. But sometimes there’s a lot of drama in these foreigner circles,” I said. “We’re all alone here. In this together. Shouldn’t we band together and make this experience like the greatest thing ever?”

My friend had a good explanation as to why my foreigner utopia does not exist.

“When you have a relationship for shallow reasons, you have a shallow relationship,” he said. “Speaking English is a shallow reason.”

It made me think of all the Japanese people I already have connections with. I’m better friends with some of them than I am with the foreigners. Because we have similar hobbies or beliefs. And yeah, there’s a language barrier. But there’s an unspoken belief that we get each other, more so than a lot of people I know who speak English.

In a way, the language I don’t speak with my Japanese friends says more than the English I do speak with some foreigners I know.

My friend’s comment makes me reflect on what my relationships are based on. Something meaningful, like appreciating the same things?

… Or something shallow, like speaking the same language?

It’s the catch 22. The snag. The hook.

Or the cost. It’s the cost of the adventure, the travel.

Lots of people say they love to travel. They love to experience another culture. This is only partially true. It would be more accurate if these people said, “I love to be a tourist.”

There is nothing wrong with being a tourist. I’ve been a tourist in several countries. You learn from being a tourist, and it’s also a lot of fun.

But there is a difference between being a tourist and an alien. The biggest difference is this catch 22, this pain that most aliens know. We never talk about it. Maybe because it’s understood- we all know it, and we all know that it is what it is, and there is nothing to be done about it. It is not heavy, but it is always there. It is our silent passenger. It is the weight in each of our hearts that we hide in every snapshot of us doing something cool.

It is the pain of leaving our families and homes. The price of the adventure is high. But you get what you pay for.

I miss Japan. I miss my Japanese friends, my apartment, speaking Japanese. And when I’m there, I miss my American friends, my home, my family.

But I do love to travel. And this is the cost.

You may experience some downtime as this blog is transferred.

SOPA is basically an attempt by corporations to censor the internet. It is parading around as a support of copyright laws. This is false.

I support copyright law. I do not support corporate censorship.

If you haven’t read about SOPA (because most major news networks don’t cover it; their corporate interests support SOPA), you can find more information here:

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

[EDIT: Go Daddy has since turned around their support of policy. They claim to no longer support SOPA. Too late, in my opinion. The blog has moved to Name Cheap.]

But, unfortunately, there is nothing funny about this. Christmas in America is becoming what Christmas in Japan already is- a hollow, commercial holiday. Christmas has been interpreted as a day of giving gifts and getting lucky.

No family.

No Jesus.

I’m not sure if many Japanese people are even aware that Christmas is (used to be?) a religious day. Even with the continued secularization of Christmas in the US, the day still holds a sense of sacredness. There are traditions, stories, and values on Christmas, even for the secular. Family time. Not working. Giving to the poor.

I hope that this lack of depth in Japanese Christmas reflects the novelty of the holiday- and not shallowness. Much like Halloween, I get the feeling that Christmas is an infant holiday, growing at a rapid rate. I want to see the identity of this day grow.

On another note, I was Santa Clause the other day for Elementary School. I was partially sickened, partially angered.

“Do you want me to speak Japanese to the children?”

“No! Santa Clause speaks English!”

I am afraid that Japanese children are learning that Christmas is an American (not Christian) holiday when a fat, white, monolingual man brings people presents. I told a friend that they should make Santa a Japanese man in Japan, and he should speak Japanese.

“But can you really picture Father Christmas as a Japanese man?” he asked.

“They have black Jesuses in Africa,” I replied. “Why not?”

Even the Japanese saying of “Merry Christmas” upsets me. Japan needs to have it own (Japanese) phrase for Christmas.

Japanese futons are not like American futons. Japanese futons are awesome. This is how it works. You have a foam pad, and then you put the futon on top of that. The futon is best described as “a very thick comforter stuffed with cotton.” It’s like a cotton matt or pad. I think you can buy them stuffed with other things too, but I’m not sure.

This is what you sleep on. And then you cover yourself with another comforter. No sheets, no blankets. I mean, sure, you can use them if you want- but usually just the comforter is enough. The comforter that you put on top, and the matt that you sleep on both have covers. It’s basically like a giant pillow cover. So when you need to wash your futon it’s no big deal- you just take the covers off and wash them.

When the weather is warm and sunny, I take the matt and the comforter outside and hang them over my balcony. I have special “clips” that hold them in place and prevent them from falling off the balcony.

One thing that you have to be careful about with the futon is moisture. Especially during the summer, sweat and humidity can get trapped in the futon, or between the futon and your floor, and cause mold to grow. For this reason, it’s important to fold up and store your futon every day. I put mine in my closet. And during the summer, I air out my futon more often than in winter.

Sleeping on a futon is very comfortable. I like firm mattresses, so the switch to a futon was not difficult. It’s also very easy to move and would make moving apartments a breeze. Additionally, when you fold it up and store it during the day, it gives you more room to do other things.

I bought a new pad and matt when I came to Japan. They cost about $90 total. If you care for your futon, it can last the rest of your life. Sounds better than a bed to me. They’re also much more convenient for guests. When I have company spending the night, I just pull out some additional futons and spread them on the floor, and we’re good to go. Because a lot of us already use futons, sleeping at a friend’s house is just as comfortable as sleeping in your own bed.

And that’s about it for futons.

This depiction is partially accurate.

Culture Shock is more of a process than an isolated event. It’s not like you get “culture shocked” and then it’s over. It’s a cycle. And it’s not usually triggered by a “catastrophic” event. For example, I’m prone to get culture shock in the grocery store. This is because I don’t know what a lot of the things are, and I can’t read (some of) the labels. I become very angry or frustrated- most likely because going to the grocery store at home was very easy. Here, it’s not as easy.

I can feel culture shock coming on when I get angry very quickly. Or something frustrates me more than it should. At this point, I realize it’s the collective stress of living in a different culture. Maybe it’s better to call Culture Shock “Culture Stress.”

Dealing with culture shock is relatively easy. I go home, eat some peanut butter and watch some American TV. If I can, I will hang out with my English-speaking friends, or stream some American radio from home. After I destress a bit, I’l study Japanese. The effects of culture shock weaken with every new word I learn.