The Offsprings’ Perspective.. Not Quite What I Imagined

Posted on March 13, 2011 by Emily Cannell

As any parent would, Spouse and I have been talking with the Offspring regarding their experience of the earthquake. Since many of our family members are physicians, I feel that I too am qualified to make not only medical but psychological evaluations in the midst of crisis situations therefore, I proceeded forward with the fervor and demeanor of a preeminent couch clinician. Spouse and I separated the still warring factions, isolated Offspring #1, and led in with what House taught us on his most recent visit to rehab.

“So, how are you feeling.” It’s difficult not to smirk when delivering such lines without the Saturday Night Live cameras rolling. It was again necessary to remind myself I was in full parenting mode. To which Offspring #1 relayed his version of experiencing an earthquake at school:

Offspring #1, 8th Grade, Male, 14, Only Interest Snowboarding


“Wow… Hi, so apparently I’m offspring 1 according to my mom. And as you know Japan just had a huge earthquake/ tsunami/ fire/ a million other things. I’m not sure I even know the severity of everything that is going on. I have just been watching some videos on YouTube and reading articles and stuff and it seems pretty crazy. But one thing that makes me know this is a big deal is the fact that the city is shut down, no taxis, buses, trains, subways nothing. I was planning on taking a day trip to gala- yuzawa a ski resort today using the shinkansen (bullet train). But obviously that’s not happening. Especially because gala- yuzawa is the prefecture next to the prefecture hit the hardest by the tsunami.

So, my mom wanted me to write and share what happened in my day today. It was no less than chaotic. Well, to start off I was in algebra class. We had just finished an easy quiz and now we were doing a few work sheets, pretty laid back. All the sudden my desk started moving a little bit. The two doors opened on their own. In the middle of a complicated problem I yelled at my friend to stop moving my desk. He told me it wasn’t him, and I realized I was experiencing my second ever earthquake I’ve ever felt! YAYYY! Everyone was laughing and it was quite exciting especially because now it was getting bigger and more fun. But then the mood started to change as we were told to go under out desks. I thought my teacher was joking at first, why would I go under my desk that is so stupid. I have never had to do anything like that before. Also, my algebra class is on the second floor of a somewhat temporary away from the main building of my school. Anyway now this thing is getting really big, the girls are all crying, the guys who were so excited are even getting a little scared, no one had ever experienced an earthquake like this. I was pulling out my phone to try to get some footage(terrible footage), and I could even see the outside staircase shaking so fast I really thought that thing was done. Then I noticed my always reliable teacher, perfectly calm he was getting some homework together. He then started to hand out the homework during the most intense earthquake in a very, very long time. After it stops, all the books on the shelves had fallen off, the room looked terrible. He then walked outside onto the field, when another one started. This one was different, it felt like the world was slowly turning upside down, it felt like I was extremely dizzy like I had never been before. We then waited about an hour on the field, couldn’t call our parents, no one knew what was going on outside of school, were there tsunamis? Had people died? Where are our parents? I hope my snowboard didn’t fall over and break! We waited for an hour in the field with these thoughts, all the girls annoyingly crying. Anyway, there was some very bad luck involved with me in this. Yes, I had the kyogen, an ancient Japanese play that my Japanese teacher talked me into doing. In this play I was taught, by a Japanese Living National Treasure (Endo Sensei). I play the part of a mushroom. I have to wear a traditional kimono and a weird hat, I regret it so much. I look pathetic. Anyway, I’ve been practicing for this thing for like 3 months every Wednesday, I actually missed a track practice for this thing. A bunch of Japanese schools and all these other people are coming to watch. Long story short, it got cancelled. I had to suffer through some more crying from girls when they found out, I was overjoyed with happiness.

Ok now… the dreaded bus ride. There is not much I can say about this. We left at 4 from our school, and got home at 11. Normally about a 45 minute bus ride, about 20 km home. Also the worst thing happened; my phone ran out of battery within an hour of the dreaded bus ride! What was I to do! Anyway, I thought they were joking when they said we’d be home late. So what Tokyo did was they shut down the highway, all public transportation, so people had to take their cars or walk. The kids at my school who take the train home, had to sleep at school. The road we took was completely covered in traffic, we had an average of about 10 minutes per .1 km. Yes, I’m serious. We had limited food, each kid got some gum, and a slice of ham. Lucky for me I had some serious cash in my wallet. I went into 7 11 for a “bathroom break” and got some sour cream and onion Pringles, and these other weird Japanese chips. I forgot to go to the bathroom. I had never been annoyed so much for food, but I didn’t give in, I didn’t even give food to my own sister (offspring 2). So, I basically stared out the window the entire time, it was no less than sucking. But I finally, got home, this water thing in the driveway of my apartment was trashed because of the earthquake. I got into my house to see two broken vases and my mom’s Japanese teacher. I didn’t care I immediately ran into my room, nothing broken! Went to the bathroom, then I went to sleep. Yesterday was nothing short of chaotic.

Offspring 1 J

P.S I wonder what that day would have been like if there were lower schoolers there, they had conferences so they all stayed home”

I just can’t resist making one comment- his math teacher sitting at the desk, during one of the largest earthquakes in history, putting together the homework.Unperturbed. Classic.

So- without further ado- here is Offspring #2

Offspring #2, 6th Grader, Female, Interested in Too Many Things to List

 

I’m Offspring 2, and this is the post my mom asked me to write about my experience in the 9.0 (that’s how bad it was where my school is) earthquake.

Around 2:50 pm, I was sitting in my Study Center class, where I had to work on keyboarding. I was just finishing up a seven minute typing lesson when I started to get really dizzy. I typed for a few more seconds, then realizing there was an earthquake, I paused my lesson. Everyone in my class was hesitant. Should we go under the desks? Or was that for earthquakes that were worse? No one was sure. Our teacher told everyone to get under the desks. I felt kind of stupid, hiding under my desk like a kindergartener playing Hide-and-go-seek.  But I did as I was told, because this was probably the second earthquake I had ever felt, and I could see everything shaking dangerously hard around me. My friend called out to me from across the room,”Put your hands over your neck to protect it from glass!” She has lived here for six years, so I just automatically assumed she is going to have more earthquake experience then I have. Clasping my hands over the back of my neck, I looked around. Some kids looked absolutely petrified, some were crying, and some were giggling at the craziness of it all. I was confused. Weren’t earthquakes supposed to be much shorter than this? I was going to ask my friend, but she was on the verge of tears so I decided to keep my mouth shut. I wondered if I was going to die, and if it was going to hurt too badly. I hoped it wouldn’t. The ground wasn’t rumbling anymore, and nothing was shaking too badly. My class and I stood up warily, looking at our teacher for instructions. She quickly ran out of the room then came back, telling us all to evacuate the building, and go to the fields. As we went, no one seemed very worried. People were laughing and talking, and the teachers were NOT happy with that. They told us to be quiet, and quickly go to the fields (it wasn’t in a very nice way). When we got to the fields, some people went to their siblings looking for support, needing someone to tell them that it was going to be ok. Personally I didn’t see what the big deal was. Sure, it was an earthquake, but the building didn’t collapse, and no one got hurt at my school, so I was just a little bit wary about it all, and the aftershocks weren’t helping. Everyone had to move to the middle of the field, so that the poles surrounding the field wouldn’t fall and crush us. We sat their patiently for an hour, anxious to contact our parents and make sure themselves. Five and six people per group, advisories slowly walked into the school to grab their belongings, and go to the buses, parents, and gym to eventually go home. We had to wait on the buses for roughly 30 minutes before we left, and once we finally did, it was much worse. Inching forwards on back roads, which felt like an inch per hour, we slowly crawled towards Tokyo. There were only two stops we took: one for people who ABSOLUTELY had to stop right there to go to the bathroom, and another one for everyone else to get some food if they had money, and to quickly go to the bathroom. I saw Offspring 1 in the store, and I asked him if he could get me some food. As you might have already read, he decided it was best to just feed himself, instead of sharing with his younger innocent sibling. Instead, I got to share a couple packs of chips with 40 other kids, who were just as hungry as I was. This went on for 6 ½ hours, and we were sitting in a stuffed up bus, getting tired and cranky. My best friend is on my bus also, and she had her first Tokyo tap dance class at 7:00 that night. We left school at about 4:30, so I was sure that we would get home in time for her class. But unfortunately, we came a few hours too late. Instead of coming home a couple of hours before 7:00 like I had expected, we came home at 11:00, with empty stomachs and exhausted limbs. Finally at home, the only thing that I was thinking about was food and my stirring stomach, dreading the aftershocks that were on their way to Tokyo.

HMMM, Offspring #1 had money and didn’t share his food with OF#2? What are we raising? Apparently a CEO.

What now?

First came earthquake, next tsunami, now nuclear power plant meltdown.

Currently the Clampitts are watching the Nuclear reactor in Fukushima to see if we’ll be donning hazmat suits and walking to the American Embassy compound for evacuation. I want Howard Stern to play my part in the movie version which will include a dramatic helicopter rescue by Navy Seals. According to initial reports, citizens close to the reactor were advised to wear safety masks, shut off the air conditioner (that’s what they said) and cover exposed skin with wet towels which seemed somewhat feckless given the apparent power of the atomic reaction to melt through any organic material. However, our bags are packed and by the front door. I just hope I don’t grow a second nose in the process,  as my first is already quite prominent and fully functional. Many ExPats have fled the area in a mad stampede, umbrellas fully extended to protect themselves from the deluge of toxin filled acid rain which is the next predicted plague to follow the trifecta to hit Japan. The “Evacuation Vacation.”

In the end, there are areas for improvement in my emergency management plan and given the dire warnings of aftershocks occurring until March 17 at a magnitude up to 7, I still have time to implement the following:

1) Restock the pantry with additional canned goods. I realized that although the Clampitts can survive for a week on Spam, red beans and tuna, we’ll emerge on the other side wagging  scurvy tongues at each other. Better add some canned peaches.

2) At some point there was enough drinking water hoarded  to support a whale shark in our bath tub. Although I clearly said,”DO NOT DRINK THIS WATER”- I was ignored. I’ll take my revenge methodically on each offender as the perfect opportunity presents itself, in the meantime, the next batch will have an alarm sensor coupled with electric fence wiring to keep the heavy drinking water abusers headed back to the tap.

3) During this ordeal, the only device that continuously functioned was the email on my cell phone. However, when it died, just exactly where was I to recharge this critical device with no electricity? At the evacuation point in the middle of Yoyogi park plugged in to a tree trunk? I bought solar chargers today for all the phones.

4) We had a crank operated radio with a plug-in to charge other appliances. It worked like a charm- my Japanese didn’t. This is for English-speaking emergencies and camping only.

5) I gained a new best friend during this ordeal. Twitter. I love you Twitter and I will never fling insults about Twitter users being self-absorbed narcissists again. Now I am one. Twitter feeds from the Japan Times, NHK, CNN, the journalists covering the scenes, the US Embassies here and abroad, put out messages real-time. I knew of the Nuclear Plant explosions within minutes of the occurrence versus 1-2 hours later when it was officially reported. Now I truly understand how Twitter and Facebook can mobilize a motivated nation.

6) Finally, dealing with the Offspring’s reactions. A- children mirror their parents and will first do what Spouse and I do. Poor kids. B- The older one is desperately trying to get back to normalcy. Eat at the same places, go snowboarding, resume life as he knows it. The younger one wants to get out. Leave. Be safe. Be free. Go on vacation. We have to keep talking. Well- sensibly.

7) Rumors. I’ve often wondered how people in crisis situations decide to leave. Libya, Eygpt, Germany… When does one have enough information to categorically declare, “This is no longer a safe place.” Rumors provide fodder for bad decision-making. Emails circulating on power outages that never occur,” the embassy is with holding information” etc. In the end, one must gather all the facts, weigh them, develop a plan, a back up plan, and be ready to go at a moment’s notice. Just in case.

God Bless all of you for your prayers, thoughts, affirmations, songs, and support. The people of Japan still need that. Thank you, thank you, peace to you. And unless I’m typing through gloved hands, the posts will “Business as Usual” starting on Tuesday….

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We’re Being Shaken and Stirred in Japan

Posted on March 11, 2011 by Emily Cannell

First- thanks to all of you for checking in to see how the Clampitts are faring in the face of this Earthquake. I’m certainly not CNN, however, here’s the situation from Shibuya-ku. Spouse is in Osaka- he’s usually gone for major snowstorms, earthquakes, pet emergencies, etc. The kids experienced this first earthquake at school and are currently en route home- a journey that has been underway for the last 4.5 hours as the highways are currently jammed.

For us, it started about 2:30 in the afternoon. I was at the grocery store perusing the narrow aisles, gazing absent-mindedly at syrup,” Breakfast for dinner?” when the boxes started to fall on me as if that was a such a good idea they just jumped on down of their own accord. I hurdled the next three Japanese women in my race to be the first out of the store. I heard the wine crashing to the ground on my way out. I stopped in the middle of the street as all the other people flooded out of the buildings. A man and I looked each other in the eyes as he stood holding on to a swaying telephone pole. Where were my kids? The pole covered a distance of 5 to 6 feet, back and forth. I looked up to see if it would hit me when it fell. The street was narrow- where was I safest? Under one of the building overhangs or lying buried in its rubble? I decided to run for the intersection where there was more space. The Japanese, used to earthquakes, were now starting to panic as the intensity of the earthquake grew. They began to hold each other. Some were starting to cry. The ground was swaying enough to when I moved I lost my footing. Or was it because I was still holding a death grip on my shopping cart? Good thing I brought that along- could I crawl under it? Where were my kids? It lasted forever. Plants started to fall off balconies, cars started moving, bikes fell, the vending machines were toppling over. People were frozen. All was silent except for the sounds of the buildings shaking. Creaking. Squeaking. We all stood rooted to our spot, unmoving, except for our eyes, darting quickly to each building, wondering which one was going to fall on us, all the time evaluating if we would see it in time to run. Was this our time? Where in the HELL was my family?

It stopped. The collection looked at each other.  We were alive and the buildings around us were standing. I walked back to the grocery store. The young grocery clerk was crying. I put my arm around her. I talked to her in English. A Japanese woman came over and took her from me. I wished she were my daughter. Broken bottles lay smashed all over the floor. A woman scrubbed tomato sauce with her hands.

My phone didn’t work. I tried to text. That didn’t work. It was quiet. No one was talking. Hundreds of people were lining a tiny street but no one said a word. The subways were closing. People poured out of the hole where the subway belonged.

An aftershock. People grabbed each other. I walked home. I didn’t know what was happening. I couldn’t understand the announcements- but- the buildings were standing. No fires. No panic. No blood. In the Ouiser hierarchy of panic situations, I chalked this all up as positive.

Upon entering my building, I noticed the water feature now had waves. Another aftershock.

I came in our door. The first signs of damage.

I filled the bath tub with water in case we needed it later.

I opened the windows so they wouldn’t get jammed shut.

The kids texted me that they were on the bus. I started to feel better. Spouse checked in.

Now my emergency preparedness classes finally kicked in:

Fill the bathtub, get out the backpack with the flares, the first aid, the compass, the map, the money, the blankets, the stitch kit, the food, the gun, (just kidding, there’s no gun), cut off the gas and the electricity, make sure there’s enough food for a week, keep passports on us at all times, good thing I registered with the State Department. I actually got the email entitled, “Earthquake and Tsunami Warning from US Embassy.”

The computer worked. I Skyped the Nose- 2:00 AM her time- “When you wake up- you’ll see we’ve had a 8.9 earthquake- we’re all ok. Don’t worry”

“Ok- thanks for calling- good night”

A few minutes later- the news sunk in, I got an email from her thanking me for saving her from the morning panic she would have endured trying to track us down.

Currently public transportation is shut down. For some reason, unless there is an alien invasion, the airports remain open. Sensei is sitting in my living room because she can’t get home. Hopefully I can talk her into spending the night because the alternative is a 4 hour walk home. She’s so polite I might have to lock her in order to make her stay.

Tsunamis now are wreaking havoc. The after shocks continue one after the other. Tonight I’ll feel better when the kids walk through the door. I’ll pray for those not as lucky. And give thanks for those who cared to do the same for us.

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Miss Hathoway- IN HERE NOW!!!!

Posted on March 10, 2011 by Emily Cannell

“Miss Hathoway, please make the following urgent phone calls. Don’t leave your desk until these are completed.”

1) Please call the US State Department, the US and Japanese Embassies, and NHK News to distribute the following news bulletin on behalf of Ouiser Clampitt:

‘The citizens of Shibuya-ku in Tokyo can resume normal daily activities. Spouse                   Clampitt has returned from an abnormally long overseas business trip during                       which a failed coup attempt by Offspring #’s 1 and 2 was put down by the remaining         and unamused parental unit left operating solo in enemy territory. The hostiles                   staged the coup attempt after Ouiser Clampitt refused to eat at TGI Fridays for the           fourth night in succession claiming extreme diarrhea and severe mental anguish due           to harsh conditions. The hostiles countered claiming that upon Spouse’s departure,           “Mom” subjected them to inferior treatment discontinuing all normal duties such              as laundry, cooking, and grocery shopping. Ouiser refused to negotiate with the                 terrorists/children and summarily squashed the rebellion by raising the big                     kitchen whisk in the air yelling, “I’m going to commence whisking and I can’t help               whoever’s hair  gets caught in it!!!” which dissipated the angry mob in to various                 hiding places throughout the house until Spouse happily appeared in the door                   way.’

 

TheManualLabor.BlogSpot.com

2) Call the American Embassy for Circulation to all ExPats with the following information attached for reference:

On a recent informational lunch meeting with the Social Chairman, she relayed the following important safety information. SC has been equipping her children’s bathroom with wipes as certain members are not keeping her exacting standards of hygiene. Recently, her housekeeper Flicka inquired as to the exact usage of said wipes. Although embarrassed to outline the gory details to Flicka, the Social Chairman went through a lengthy and specific explanation to which Flicka replied:

“M’am- those are kitchen wipes”

3) Please Put in My Follow Up Folder- Culture Lessons: Some of you have been asking for more reviews of Culture issues that may be of help when visiting Japan. Unfortunately, and in spite of my best efforts, I’ve learned many of these the hard way and have catalogued them in a new menu tab at the top of the page. This will make them easier to find as most were done earlier in our stay. Additionally, I will start to post a new culture lesson once every one or two weeks. Thanks to you for your suggestions!

Here’s to you!!

WWW.Crunchyroll.com

 

 

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Fun Facts Not Available to the General Public- Only in Japan

Posted on March 9, 2011 by Emily Cannell

Ok- what’s a fact that one would only know by living in Japan, a fact that would not be covered in a guide or culture book? The people of Japan have unique shaped feet versus other peoples in the world. So much different, that shoe manufacturers, Nike, New Balance, Asics, etc, have Japanese versions. What’s so particular to the Japanese foot? It’s wider and shorter compared to the Western counterpart for a person of the same height and weight. How do I know this? An afternoon spent grilling a hapless Nike executive who had the unfortunate luck of attending a tour alongside the curious, relentless, and unshakeable Ouiser. “I had my ways of making her talk,” and can only share one learned company secret as it’s the sole bit pertaining to Japan.

Some would argue that the styles are also different. My new running shoes, I copied from the Tasmanian Bloodhound:

For these, the length of my foot, as well as the girth, was measured around the widest portion of my foot. With a measuring tape. Bunions and all. My US size is an 8. My Japanese size is a 7 EE. As in double wide. Like the trailer. As in from whence I came.

Little did I know, all along, I’ve had Japanese feet. Finally, a pair of shoes that aren’t an inch too long to accommodate the width of my feet. Now I won’t look like a clown running. Or maybe I will.

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Flying by the Seat of Your Pants- The Only Way to Go in Japan

Posted on March 7, 2011 by Emily Cannell

Shinkansen Travel. The Japanese Name for “Bullet Train” and the Clampitts preferred form of long distance travel. Tokyo, one of the largest cities in the world, becomes grid locked on the weekends with city folk desperate to escape. A 2 hour drive in or out on the weekends becomes 4-6. On the flip side, rocketing along the tracks at speeds of 210 mph is not only hypersonic, it guarantees even the most finicky frequent flyer a momentary thrill. Middle Schoolers make them appear as first time flyers when it comes to exacting demands for scrumptious snacks, expectations for superior treatment, and deluxe accommodations, therefore, given the choice of being locked in a car for 5 hours or reclining comfortably in a Shinkansen for 2, Spouse and I readily opt for the Shinkansen whenever possible.

Get too close to the tracks and the station master waves the red flag your way...

Why these aren’t all over the US and exactly how they can travel at such speeds without being derailed by a well placed penny is beyond my comprehension. Japan is about the size of California, slightly larger than Great Britain, and slightly smaller than France. Most areas in Japan are accessible in a day via Shinkansen and a bus, subway or taxi ride on the other side.

I might as well say it here, now, for all of you to know. There is English on the Shinkansen, and all the other trains as well. No need to worry about one’s exact location, disembarking at the wrong stop, or accidentally touring the entirety of Japan and ending up where one began- the announcements are in Japanese and English. Further, yes- there’s more to this confession- signage in English is posted through out all train terminals. The illusion of my superior Japanese speaking and navigational abilities now remains solely in my head. I’m a thief and a liar- well- more like an exaggerater extraordinaire. Dang it.

Here’s the grandmother of the Shinkansens…She’s slower than the new version- but roomy.

Three sections are available- non reserved, reserved and green. Green stands for “First Class,” perhaps after the “Green Room” used by actors awaiting their time on stage? I can hear all the New Yorkers now- “Fu git aboud it! We got dose up heya.” Except my grandmother in her long nightgown, with her Dobby knees and her walker could outrun the Acela express. Unlike train travel in certain parts particular to the US, most specifically in the Northeastern portion, along a precise route, geographically limited to the Nation’s capital, the city famous for birthing “Rocky,” and the third of the trilogy, the Big Apple, one does not have to endure the conversations of every passenger on board, simultaneously, all talking with their outside voices. Me yelling standing and yelling “SHUT UP” never seemed to do any good. Or it didn’t in my mind when I did it.

The Rocket of the NE United States- the Acela

I have excellent footage demonstrating the superior speed of the Shinkansen however, upon reviewing I started to get a tad queasy- which I did not experience on the train- and I fear it can only be attributable to my video skills. I’ll try again on our upcoming trip to Kyoto.

The big buzz in these parts is the new Shinkansen:

Pretty soon the Clampitts will go from this:

To THIS:

I see myself lounging like this:

 

Show of hands- Shinkansen or the family van?

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Upheaval in the Hood- Are you Safe in Japan?

Posted on March 3, 2011 by Emily Cannell

For those of you afraid to travel, fearful that danger lurks around every corner, certain that muggers spying your fanny pack and camera might mark you as made, Japan should be the first international stop out of the neighborhood cul de sac. Undoubtedly, Japan is the safest place for a traveler.

Just don’t come to our neighborhood when  you arrive. Because I live in it. I move about this hood unremarkable to those who pass. Most passersby don’t cast a second glance in my direction, unless curious as to my close genetic ties to Howard Stern, possibly in the form of his female twin. They usually only notice the children by my side who inherited good genes from their father, but otherwise, I am undistinguishable amongst the ExPat, late-40’s crowd. I blend – perfect for my ruse- as I am the bane of the block. No one would suspect I could wreak such havoc in one day. Not only am I bad to the bone, the members of my gang are equally twisted establishing the bond which keeps our covey in tact. The debacles this week tumbled one after the other as I progressed from one scene to the next….The snakebit neighbors could only watch in consternation as their happy place tumbled further in to my fetid domain.

Some of you readers may remember me bragging about the delicious, mouth-watering bolgogi (Korean Barbeque) available here at Costco and the further explanation of the mini table top grill secured later on which to cook this feast. Well, I have been cooking bolgogi on the table top grill at least once a week for quite some time now with one issue of concern arising on each occasion. Smoke. Lots of it. Since I am a sensible woman, and leery of attracting the fire department, I moved the table top grill to the outside table. Problem solved. The grill surface encompasses a small 12×7 pan size top, so one can imagine that it takes some time to get the meat cooked. I sit on the deck, with my phone, play Solitaire, threaten the Offspring not to open the sliding glass doors, and hope that smoke inhalation is not my cause of death. I have been vexed as to why our apartment is still filled with smoke when my grilling is complete. So much smoke, in fact, that I had to re-do my folded laundry after the last smoking session. What I did not know, however, was that I also filled the other two apartments on our floor with smoke. This alerted the management to the apparent contraband in my possession.

Consequently, I was busted by the man for possession of illegal material, and my grill was promptly banned from the premises. Apparently grills are not to be used on the decks. I of course appealed, my argument based on the premise of the legality of my table top teriyaki plate, not grill, which happened to be used outside, therefore was not illicit or illegal material. The judge swayed by this definition of terms ordered instead that I not choke the neighbors again. Now that I’m known to have had “contraband” some  neighbors have approached asking in hushed tones if I can obtain certain items- my reputation as a woman who can “get things” having grown. Of course I oblige. I charge them a smidgen above what Amazon Japan charges me for shipping.

The following story spread faster than Charlie Sheen’s interview. I rode my Mama Cheri (Bike with two baskets) to the store for my daily supply run. I stopped to get laundry detergent at one store, put it in the back basket, parked, went in the grocery store, shopped, hopped on the bike, and rode home. I unloaded my bags but couldn’t find the laundry detergent. “Damn- it must’ve fallen out when I went over the curb.” It was then I realized my bike was red. When I bought my Mama Cheri, I really wanted a red or pink one, but neither color was available. Although I didn’t recall what color my Mama Cheri was, I knew it wasn’t red. This wasn’t my bike. I jumped on and pedaled faster than the Wicked Witch of the West- her theme song playing in my mind through out my race back to the scene of my crime. I skidded on to the grocery store side-walk just in time to encounter a confused Japanese woman walking up and down the row of bikes obviously searching, and not finding, hers. I rode up, “Kore ii deska?” the closest I could get to “Is this yours?” She nodded guardedly. I threw it at her, bowed like a bobbing cork float 15 times low, said I was sorry 30 times, grabbed what I hoped was my bike, according to the pictures I took on my blog post it was, and rode off before she could call the popo. Now, everyone in the hood has been encouraged to lock their bikes.

Finally, in the coup de grace, one of my homeys extended our gang’s reign of terror at a recent wedding shower. One of those edge- of -your- seat games was in full swing- “name all the famous couples you can think of, ” in 5 minutes. The person with the most wins the door prize. Homey got a text from an international private school forcing her to pause from the furious list making. The hostess, mistaking her text reading for internet searching, accused her of cheating and game fixing. She was summarily ejected without appeal. An international ban on wedding shower attendance is currently in place for this particular thug and all neighbors have been advised to report her to the appropriate authorities should they witness her in disguise or in character as one of her aliases. She’s a real bad seed that one.

People, this is how we roll in my hood.

So folks, except for this particular area, yes, Japan is a very safe place, a country where one can safely walk the streets alone, night or day whether male or female. If one drops a wallet, it will get turned in to the nearest Koban station (police box) on the corner- with all the contents in place. Cab drivers don’t take advantage of foreigners. The change is always right.

But do be careful in my hood, and you heard it from me….

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Shrine Sale or Bust

Posted on March 1, 2011 by Emily Cannell

One of my favorite pastimes and one missing from my current ExPat lifestyle is “junkin’,” a term used for dotingly, carefully, and surrepticiously clawing through piles of used items while being careful not to arouse the attention of other junkers lest you draw attention to a particularly good cache of tossed treasures or trash, thereby causing a potential throw down in what is certainly an establishment on the brink of foreclosure. For a hilarious, knee slapping description of this phenomenon embraced by hobbyists and tree huggers alike not to be detailed in this post, please refer to the instruction manual and rule guide written by Dana of Zona Pellucida whereupon she describes certain codes of behavior and details of this form of recycling in  “Thrift Score Wednesdays” (Read Here) which I will include here as a reference. Then, one of the Seven Lucky Gods of Japan – probably Daikoku the god of wealth and retail shops- was somehow alerted to my withdrawal symptoms and threw some luck my way through one of my other most favorite blogging divas, Tokyo Jinja.

Daikokuten- Artwork by Aoi Fujimoto

 

 

By apprising me to a source for junkin’ in Japan-The Shrine Sale-A flea market/Antique sale on the grounds of a shrine, the trendsetter for Asian influence in the home set me on a new course for filling our house with Nihon-jin kitsch.  As soon as I read her post, I emailed myself the schedule, Andretti-san downloaded the information, plugged in the GPS and we hit the road “with our hair on fire”. Junkin’ terminology for “Fully anticipating a successful day of shopping ahead.”

After weeks of pristine, crisp winter weather, the skies had their fill and disgorged buckets directly on me and Andretti-san. But the Shrine sale was on. Perfect- the rain would wash away my competition- no hagglers with which to compete for the precious booty laid at the foot of the buddha. My costume was chosen carefully. Gloves to hide jewelry highlighting any telltale signs of misconceived wealth and affluence, cross body bag freeing the hands for close examination of items, camera placed in pocket, holster style for quick draw, and money hidden in various pockets and purse locations so vendors would be unable to assess my financial worthiness when I claimed items “Tokai des ne”- so expensive. I just had to focus my eyes on those of the vendor for an inscrutible poker face as looking away is the best predictor of a liar, and prevent my nose from growing as I morphed in to haggling mode.

I was thrilled to see the van unloading the lavish load of  treasure when Andretti-san and I roared up the Tori gate:

Having forced Andretti-san to practice negotiation tactics in Japanese for the hour ride to Kawagoe, I declined his offer for translation and he sped off, tires screaming in the direction of the Eel House for lunch without even a backward glance. He didn’t understand my excitement.

Andretti-san- “Ouisan-san- why do you like old things? Japanese people like new things. You can find all this stuff in the dump. One time I found a two-year old Apple computer at the dump and I sold it for 500,000 yen. ($500 US) Do you want me to take you to the dump?”

Since Spouse thinks our dwelling should not contain items picked from the neighbors’ garbage (embarrassing when they come to visit) and I’m hesitant pick side by side with rats, I politely declined even though I expect to pay at least a 10% surcharge on all bought garbage.

It looked like the vendors were tardy given the weather so I bought a bowl of curry udon while I waited.

Udon’s not my favorite- the big, fat noodles dilute the taste of the broth and eating it makes me take on its appearance- big and fat. Just my opinion.

I finished, rechecked my costume, and proceeded in to the Shrine. In this case, Narita-san Betsu-In Temple in Kawagoe. One of the finest examples of its ilk. I hoped I could still babble in Japanese- I was beside myself with excitement.

Ahh! Not a person in sight- this hallowed ground was mine for the taking.

And then I saw this:

My victims, I mean, trade associates were packing up! This would put me at a disadvantage. I said a quick prayer to:

Seeing this, I quickly snapped it up in case Andretti-san and I had a flat tire on the way home:

I now began flying through the Shrine looking for any prizes not yet back in newspaper. I couldn’t dig through the rack of antique kimonos as the man on the right was stashing hand fulls in his van faster than I could push hangers.

The only die hards were selling “Hello Kiddy” inflatable dolls. Too big for the car.

Some interesting things here and there like these Kokeshi dolls- they aren’t supposed to have arms or legs.

A few Japanese Plums tried to peep through the gloom to let us know Spring is on the way and Cherry Blossoms will be next:

So as all good junkers know, some days are good, some days are bad. The good news is, I’m armed and dangerous for the spring days ahead where treasures lay in wait of a new home. And I’ll just be that much more prepared….

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Sensei Wields the Sword of the Samurai- on Ouiser

Posted on February 27, 2011 by Emily Cannell

And cut me to the quick. For the last 8 months, Sensei has attempted with no results to teach me the building blocks of the Japanese phonics- the 46 Hiragana characters. I have resolutely and with great success blocked her attempts to impart this wisdom which would enable me to read signs, menus and most foreign words written in Japanese for several valid reasons. I hate practicing, I can’t remember the Hiragana for longer than three seconds after I’ve written the same character 50 times as the Hiragana must be exact- not “close”- and finally it’s boring. Jabbering on in a foreign language and finding success in piecing together a sentence with the structure a three-year old might employ is much more to my taste. My sensei, reserved, shy, and customarily willing to accommodate my schedule of tasks for the lesson, recently summarily blocked my move to evade the Hiragana lesson I had postponed for several weeks. Not only did she erect an obstacle, she hurled an insult.

“Ouiser-san- if you don’t learn Hiragana, Japanese people can’t understand your pronunciations. I only understand you because I am your teacher.” WHAT?

Me- “You mean I’ve been babbling for 8 months and no one has any idea what I’m saying?” Maybe that’s why cab drivers understand the Offspring giving directions but not me.

Sensei- “Yes.”

Ouiser- “Well- why didn’t you tell me?”

I’ve become the parent who answers the phone but the Japanese person on the other end asks to speak to the child in order to converse with someone understandable. Rapid fire flashbacks started to pop before my eyes as I recalled the millions of times I spoke the correct word, however, the recipient of my floundering Japanese looked back with sheer confusion or worse- dismay.

Sensei- “I’ve been trying to get you to learn but you won’t.” All teachers share a common characteristic, lazy students attempting to divert their attention with brown-nosing, offers of tea to soak up time, and lulling them into a conversation about non- language topics do not blind an experienced educator to the fact that the student is avoiding the subject to be learned. In a Japanese way- she had told me but I, having the cultural sensitivity of a bull charging through Pamplona, was oblivious to her subtle whacks at imparting the Hiragana wisdom of the ages.

Not to fear, my Sensei was more astute than I and recognized the need for a more juvenile approach to Hiragana edification. How best to teach a 46-year-old “Spirit is willing but flesh is weak” student, who tends to bore easily, is distracted by the smallest noise from the dishwasher, finds difficulty in sitting for an hour, and pretends at least once a month not to be home when Sensei knocks on the door? With this:

Kana Can Be Easy- By Kunihiko Ogawa

I can relate to “Yu” and might actually remember it now:

As would any kindergartener all forms of posterior related humor I find funny, therefore, I will never forget “Te,”

Swine plus posterior make “Su,” especially memorable for me,

Hope for a perfect Japanese accent is within my reach thanks to my insightful Sensei and a new-found interest in Hiragana. Proof, yet again, that no matter what the age, study tricks and a good teacher are still keys to life long learning!

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What a Doll!- Hinamatsuri

Posted on February 23, 2011 by Emily Cannell

Beginning February, and ending on March 3rd with Girl’s day, is Hinamatsuri – the Japanese Doll Festival. Japanese homes throughout Japan display elaborate dolls on red carpets depicting the Emperor, Empress and Court Attendants from the Heian period. Unlike the Chistmas tree which some Westerners enjoy dried and brittle in the family room for months past the yule tide season, leaving the hinaningyo up past March 4th brings a late marriage for the potential brides to be in the family. Ouch.

Having heard of this festival before I envisioned two, maybe three, Barbie-ish Japanese models propped stiffly in the foyer, arms reaching, unbending, to incoming visitors wearing nightgown versions of kimono. When I stumbled upon these at the Neiman Marcus of Japan- Mitshukoshi- I had to snap fast before the polite sales ladies dressed in starched black uniforms oh so politely shooed me away, otherwise I would have gotten close-ups of the various members of the royal household seated in formation according to tier. Little did I know at the time that each doll had a seat assignment, the furniture at the bottom wasn’t thrown in at the last-minute just so Grandma had something to give as a gift every year, and the boxes at the bottom were a part of this display and not random additions of lacquered jewelry boxes with no other place to go.

The dolls are placed in front of a screen, on a red carpet. A complete set includes vases, silk lanterns, and peach plants. Each doll goes in a specific place on the 7- layered platform. Emperor and Empress on the first platform. Second Platform contains ladies of court- usually serving sake. The third tier is for musicians. The fourth are for the two ministers- always the older on the left. The fifth platform- contains plants and samurai- who are also portrayed as the maudlin, merry and cantankerous drinkers. (Wikipedia’s words- not mine. But I do like them) The sixth platform has items used inside the palatial residence while the seventh contains items used while traveling. Apparently children were not to be seen or heard in the time of the Heian.

So, let’s meet the Royal Family: The Emperor and Empress. He always has a baton while she holds a fan.

The set below containing the screen, plants, and Emperor and Empress costs about $3,000 US dollars.

Close up of a musician and the older Minister:

Another Emperor and Empress:

The Hinaningyon are passed down through the generations. I’ve found that in many of the celebrations of Japanese culture, bad and evil spirits are cast out in some way. In this celebration, the dolls have the ability to contain bad spirits. In the past, straw replicas of the dolls were set afloat and sent to sea taking bad spirits and troubles along with them. That practice was stopped as they are not as tasty as the sushi they tended to get caught with once out in the open ocean.

And here’s the real thing – Japan does currently have an Emperor and Empress-

His Royal Majesty Emperor Akihito, 125th Direct Lineal Descendant of the Sun Goddess and his wife, Her Royal Majesty Empress Michiko,

A more recent picture:

Spouse has met the Empress- For the life of me I don’t know why he didn’t take pictures with his Iphone- can’t you see it? Holding the phone in front of the two of them while he flashes the peace sign? I don’t know why he didn’t ask one of her security team to snap a few.

 

 

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The Melter- You Just Made a Mistake- Culture Lesson #11

Posted on February 22, 2011 by Emily Cannell

Today I found myself the regrettable but most certainly deserving recipient of most noxious and withering look, the kind of which stops all life related activity dead in its tracks- I call it the Melter. So named because of the lava like creeping, burning, melting sensation starting in the throat and continuing to the bowels when the Melter is cast. In Japan, the Melter appears to be the preferred communication form of castigation for anyone caught or engaging in an act deemed rude, disruptive, disgusting or otherwise socially unacceptable as it is against social norm in this culture to directly confront the perpetrator with a reprimand. The Melter, however, shouts with the eyes in a piercing voice disdain for the actions of the deserving yet sinful sod who committed the infraction. In this case, me. My mother has her own version of the Melter which we call the Thin Lips which may be in part why I’m particularly prone to this method of communication.

 

TheHarveyFamilyWebsite.com

It all started out so innocently. I started the morning with a stop at my Fed Ex to FAX tax documents to the US. All of the computer terminals were occupied with “salary men”- Japanese businessmen- diligently working on Excel spreadsheets which seemed odd. Shouldn’t these gentlemen crunch numbers at their office instead of mine? My Fed Ex employees, usually competing with me to flex their English-speaking muscles while I exercised my Japanese ones, were actually bustling back and forth from behind the counter, running in silence to help the salary men complete the crises that brought them to Fed Ex. Unlike an American FedEx, this hive of activity operated in dead silence, everyone cognizant of the work environment of one’s neighbor. Until I called Andretti-san on the cell phone to inquire as to the correct pronunciation of “I’ll wait.” To the quiet cogs in the corporate wheel at FedEx, the auditory assault of my phone call on the zen environment slashed through the air with the speed of a samurai sword. Not only were my 10 attempts to repeat “I’ll wait” in Japanese bothersome, but increasing the volume of each endeavor did not improve my pronunciation. By the time my conversation with Andretti-san concluded, the FedEx employees were all hiding having seen what I had not- one of the salary men had turned in his chair to give me the Melter. GI distress descended upon my gut- for this was my second turn to receive the Melter- and I knew when I met his gaze, pain like no other would be inflicted upon my soul. All was still – everyone in the room knew without looking that the Melter was in use for they too could feel its powerful wrath. They knew I deserved it. I forced myself to meet his eyes. The deliverer dropped his eyes from mine to the phone in my hand. He had communicated my error without speaking. I had been rude. Speaking on the phone in a quiet place, disturbing others by being inconsiderate. I dropped my gaze to the floor in acknowledgment. He turned back to the computer. All activity resumed. DANG IT. Like a relieved child, I drew a breath. The hive returned to normal.

So what happened. In Japan, cell phones are not to be used on trains, in restaurants, or any other quiet place. Generally, if one needs to use a cell phone, it should be used outside as talking on it is considered using “your outside voice.” NEVER use a cell phone on a train- and the ringer should be turned off. Conversations on cell phones in public should be limited to less than one minute. The Japanese value quiet-lapses in conversation are used to reflect on what has been said and hurried attempts at filling are avoided. Anything that disturbs the serenity and peace of others is impolite.

Second, culturally, direct confrontation isn’t a communication tool for the Japanese- unless it is with immediate family members. Instead, behaviors are ignored, excused or in extreme circumstances, the person becomes an “outsider” and is no longer a member of the group. In my case, the man did me a favor by indicating with body language that in this culture, my actions were not acceptable. It was a good day- thanks to the Melter- I learned to see this situation through a Japanese lens today. One step closer to assimilation.

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