Joggers wobbling around chaotically

Apparently the conflict between joggers and pedestrians around the Imperial Palace is on again, according to NHK news. It has become so severe that the Chiyoda-ku government has decided to call a panel in March consisting of joggers and other residents to come up suggestions for rules for joggers. The government will then decide which of these suggested rules they will enact. Should take less than a thousand years.

The joggers reportedly spread out and take the entire sidewalk, run zigzag through zigzagging pedestrians who are spread out taking the entire sidewalk, or sometimes even get off the sidewalk and run on the road. In other words, joggers are jogging like pedestrians walk and mama-chari-ists and cops ride bicycles regardless of rules and laws.

Could it be that joggers are not jogging while reading e-mail and thus standing out amongst Tokyoites? And will joggers, unlike pedestrians and mama-chari-ists pay any attention to any rules that are eventually drawn up?

Will someone someday make some rules for the fine young ladies of the private girls school in Denenchofu so that we may walk down the sidewalk without being trampled by a horde of them?

Money is on "no" to both questions.

Edited Jan 11 as I cannot spell nor understand the difference between "horde" and "hoard."

Good service

I dropped by the Denenchofu Maison Kayser bread shop at noon to pick up some expensive pizza for lunch. Until recently, most shops in Denenchofu have not seemed to be very enthusiastic about actually attracting customers---I have heard unproven rumors that some may have been set up for tax purposes---but MK has always seemed to be interested in doing business. Perhaps they let their prices select for them.

Like almost every shop in Tokyo, they offer point cards where after you buy a few zillion dollars worth of products, you get something "free." At MK, you get ¥500 off your purchase after 20 purchases at a certain minimum price.

I don't go for these things much as the payoff is minimal, and I don't want to carry dozens of point cards around. However, I do like to use one for this shop, not because the ¥500 yen discount is anything special, but because they seem so reluctant to offer one to me.

Today I forgot mine and went ahead and made my purchase without it. The clerk said nothing but the usual thank you. The Japanese guy in the line next to me was asked if he had brought his point card as soon as he stepped up to the register. I suppose I could consider it an oversight on the part of the lady who served me except that I have been going to that shop for 4 years and have only once been asked about a point card. When I got my first one, I had to ask. If I want a new one, I usually have to ask. If I lose mine, I have to ask for a new one.

Perhaps the staff and management is worried about my comfort and do not want to embarrass me by asking me a question in Japanese as they figure that I could not understand. But then again, I always speak Japanese there, and they speak Japanese to me. Perhaps they assume the point card system too complex for me to understand, so they are reluctant to offer one. Perhaps they consider me rich and don't want to offend me by offering a discount.

Not really sure why I get this extra special customer service, but it must be a good thing.

The continuing education of a wannabe well-mannered man

This morning I decided to get out of my environmentally friendly mansion (I learned we folk in Japan have these by reading the comments on Paul Krugman's recent NYT op-ed) on a cool crisp late summer day expected to only reach 34 centigrade.

As I tried to enter the gate at upscale Denenchofu station, a lady exited by aiming right for the gate I was nearing even though we were the only two people there, and she could have easily taken a closer gate. I, still having a bit of barbarous, uncouth USA manners, yielded to let her rush through the gate first.

I hopped on the front car of an Ebisu-bound train and seeing as how the seats were mostly full except for a few spots which were half taken by folk who seemed very reluctant to share (but still of impeccable good-manners) I went to the head of the car where I could watch out the front---a popular spot for young children and elderly men with runny noses.

Soon enough, grandpa joined me and began repeatedly sniffling and a few moments later let fly two full-bore, open-mouthed, ear-drum splitting sneezes. Despite his concern for others and beautiful country good manners, I for some odd-ball reason (remnants of memories of my mother or teachers knocking me upside the head for such refinement), found myself moving to the opposite end of the car. He had put his hand somewhat in the vicinity of the front of his buffalo mouth, after all. Seems that I have not yet developed a tolerance for inhaling the mucous and spittle of others if I can avoid it.

I got to Ebisu and went to Ebisu Garden Place to relax a bit, look for good light and something interesting to photograph. Finding little, I soon gave up and decided to enter a new Starbucks there to have a cup of liquid charcoal and a synthetic sugar donut. Soon 3 fellows who were apparently working this fine Sunday entered and sat at the counter across from my table. One fellow, a gentleman in his late 40s/early 50s with the jet black hair of a 5-year old, sat right at the corner and placed his already chair-shaped bum on the edge of his seat while scooting the unused portion of his chair out into everyone's way. People would have to squeeze sideways to get by our wig wearing or at least hair-painting fellow to enter or exit.

I admired this fellow. Three or four people squeezed by him with obvious difficulty, but even though he glanced back, he made no effort to move his seat one cm forward. Finally, a lady with a baby carriage had to exit and she started moving the chair at my table to the right to get by. Being an ill-manner foreigner, I rudely helped her and then moved my whole table so that she could exit. Lard ass with the painted hair or wig looked at me. Being a lout, I glared at him. Apparently not realizing that I was a dangerous violence-prone foreigner, he responded by simply turning back to his chat with his fellow Very Important People. His chair remained where it was.

Soon I left to return home. At Ebisu station I walked to the end of the platform so I would have less of a chance of having to pull a Three Stooges rush for the door. As the trained arrived, I was pleased to find that my Charisma Man persona attracted two women who could not resist getting close to me and decided to rush for the same door I was entering, despite the fact that we were the only three entering that car which (as I recall) had 5 doors. Damn. I've still got it.

I chose to stand next to the door even though there was plenty of room to sit. Sitting might have made someone uncomfortable or reluctant to sit next to me due to my propensity to chat up strangers in English, or my objectionable body odor. Since these defects rarely pose problems for anyone who wants to stand two inches from the end of my nose on a train, standing seemed the polite thing to do.

I was soon distracted by the ad about "Why men want sex" and "Women need love" and became a bit lost in the thought that such a thing may actually be simplistic horse-pooky, but not distracted enough to miss the tie-less Western guy in a suit playing with what looked like an iPhone while pushing his left index finger knuckle deep in his left nostril. Eeewww, thought I. Only non-Japanese would do such a thing. Never have I seen a native Tokyoite do it....oh, well "never" meaning within the last week.

Finally, I reached Denenchofu station got off and entered Precce, the supermarket for people with more money than brains, looked around and rediscovered that they have not had a new item since the Jurrassic before deciding to walk the 10 minutes to Yukigayaotsuka Tokyu to get something for lunch.

Ten minutes sweaty minutes later, I entered Tokyu. Now Tokyu owns Precce, but sells the exact same products at about 20-30% lower prices. The clerks don't put every single item in separate vinyl bags---including candy bars---and they don't bow and say "welcome" before checking you out, and they don't ask you 900 stupid questions every single time, but they are much faster than those at Precce. But that's why Tokyu is less expensive. The service is "less."

After getting my curry mix, an avocado, and a drink, I went to the register. Amazingly, a young fellow---not a woman---was manning it. I remembered that fellow. I remembered him from a few weeks ago, not only because he was a rare male in that job, but because he....uhhh, how can I put this?...stank. No, Stank with a capital S. Whew!!! I could smell him 4-5 feet away. I should have moved to another register, but the lines were too long and I was next. I tried to hold my breath. Whoa. Was he foreign, I wondered, for I have heard and read----from no less an authority than the New York Times Magazine---that Japanese have almost no body odor. I have even heard more than a few Japanese say that when comparing themselves with non-Japanese. That's one reason, in spite of their being extremely polite, some people are reluctant to sit next to a foul-smelling thing such as me on the train. Standing next to me is, as mentioned, ok. Hmmm. Maybe Precce adds the surcharge-for-morons so that its clerks can afford to bathe and use deodorant. Or, maybe they only hire real next-to-no-body-odor Japanese.

I returned to my environmentally friendly (because I reduce energy usage as much as possible to avoid the high costs) mansion with no insulation, absurdly inefficient air-conditioning and heating, with hollow plastic interior doors and a "Western" bedroom that one cannot put a twin-sized or bigger "Western" bed in 'cause a doofus designed the hallway and entrance. I environmentally-friendlily microwaved my lunch (like I have choice) and sat down with a Asahi "The Master" Philsner and wondered what will happen when I return to the rude, crude, straight-talking, debating, Neanderthal-ic USA with my refined good manners. People will admire and love me, I'm sure. Tyler Bru^le'! would appreciate it if nobody else.

Blogger spell check does not accept "donut" as a real, properly spelled word.

I reserve the right to tweak this a bit over the next few hours. My editor is me, and he is slow, lazy, cannot spell, or properly proofread unless he is being paid to do so. Plus, I follow the Japan w/o Sugar style-guide which supersedes other rules.

Wa

Was going to write something about this, but Thomas Dillon at the Japan Times beat me to it. He's a bit too kind in his assessment.

You don't really walk with your feet here. You walk with your ears. For sharp hearing will alert the careful pedestrian as to what lies around the bend...

...Pedestrians do not squeal. Most of them anyway. So ears are of no help. To avoid being bumped or cut off you have to rely on your eyes.

But much of the pedestrian horde appears to be blind. Or only focused on their own destinations. Many march on impervious to the fact that between them and their goals walk other people.

We refer to this behavior as "group harmony" or "good manners" or something like that. And, Good Lord, we haven't even considered the negligent homicide-inclined mama-chari-ist cum (recently) road cyclist.

Did ya ever notice?

As I sat at the nice little fish and chips place Delight in Tamagawa Tokyo on a Golden Week Sunday and enjoyed a decent meal and a new Yebisu Creamy Top Stout, I pondered life amongst the worlds most polite and rule-obeying citizens.

If I walk down a street in Tokyo, a large portion of the population will only very, very reluctantly (or, on the case of certain very short middle-aged men completely refuse to) share the sidewalk with me.

However, if I carry a camera and stop to take a photo---or just look like I might take one---everyone will do anything, including climbing a wall, to avoid getting between me and the subject.** Some will duck down about an inch believing that doing so somehow keeps them out of the photo. Others will stand for eternity waiting for me to take the photo. It's almost as if I were on a firing range shooting an elephant rifle. Nobody would dare dally in front of me.
It might make life easier if I were to carry a camera---working or not---around my neck and pull it up as if to take a photo every time I saw a group walking side-by-side taking up the entire sidewalk.

This would have NO effect, however, on mama-chari-ists (who are licensed to kill anyway), nor the recent road bike converts (who have transferred their mama-chari skills to road bikes), nor cars---stop to take a photo in a crosswalk in Denenchofu and you are dead---taxis, buses, the large speeding dump trucks driven by lunatics, nor the young ladies who attend the Denenchofu private school for girls.

As I came out of my exercise in fantasy and was about to order another ¥880 pint, a fellow and his girl pulled up on shiny new road bikes dressed in the latest road bike fashion as promoted by Fun Ride magazine. After they came in and ordered, the future TDF yellow jersey prospect pulled out a cigarette and injected his lungs with the mama-chari-ist's EPO: nicotine. Next time, I am sitting outside.

*I keep forgetting the name and thus cannot find it on the Internut, including Google Japan. However, if you go to Tamagawa station and exit toward the river of the same name, you will find an nice little British-themed pub on the right just across from the bus stop. It has become my favorite local restaurant. 9:18PM: Found it here

**I often want people in the photos, although I rarely photograph someone's face clearly without asking, if I intend to put it on the web. Copyright/privacy laws are a bit strict in Japan about that sort of thing. Got your blog "monetized"? Well, hhssssssss---the sound of air being sucked through teeth.

A walk through the Beverly Hills of Tokyo*

Took a quick walk down to the Denenchofu Precce at lunch. It is the closest grocery store, so I chose to pay the absurd 20-30-40% premium for the same food I could get elsewhere at a regular Tokyu. (Except that Precce does have fresh skim milk with a use-by date over a week away. When I lived in Kanagawa near Kajigaya station, their same-brand skim milk arrived with a maximum 3-4 day use-by date. Methinks that it was old unsold milk from places like Denenchofu. Here ours disappears after it has been on the shelf for 2 days.)

The walk was pretty much uneventful. I tried to cross the crosswalk in front of the Family Mart behind the illegally parked truck and so I waited in the middle of the crosswalk for the line of cars to blow right through it. Again, illegally, but it's not like the local koban-sitters are going to give a rats arse. It's better that way anyhow, otherwise, I would have been confused like I was yesterday while walking home from Okusawa, when I had absentmindedly stepped into a crosswalk without stopping and waiting for all traffic within killing range to clear. Damn if a guy on a motorbike didn't suddenly appear. AND STOP!!! Good god, I wondered, what is going on? Why is he stopping? I had just barely entered the crosswalk and wasn't even on his side.

I waited. He waited. If I went ahead and tried to cross, would he then decide to go and run me down? He was still waiting. Cautiously, I crossed while bowing a thank-you-for-obeying-the-law bow to him. I see that kind of bow often and I fully understand why it is done.

I arrived safely at Precce and began shopping. Suddenly, as I began the usual dance with a someone who would jump to my right when I moved right and to my left when I moved left, I looked the person in the eye and she smiled. Panic!!!! Someone whom I don't know looked me directly in the eye and smiled. What do I do in situations like this? I grabbed for my wallet. Still there. I thought of saying, "No, this is not an opportunity to practice your English on me," but then I recalled that darned near everyone in Denenchofu seems to speak English well already.**

Just as I was about to flee out the door screaming, I noticed that she appeared to be one of the Germans who populate the local area. "Excuse me," says I. "Excuse me," said she. Crisis defused.

Then I got up to the register. The clerk was busy reading aloud every price of every item in the basket of the lady ahead and then wrapping nearly everything individually in small clear plastic bags. (Despite the stupid TV ads, you cannot get out of having everything wrapped at the Denenchofu Precce. Tried it. Failed. Thinking there must be some special grocery store keigo, I later had my wife try. She failed too. You would have to tell the clerk not to wrap every single item every single time she touched one. Forget, and she'll wrap it.)

After her total was rung up, the lady in front decided it might be about time to dig her wallet out of her bag. Ten minutes later she found it and, apparently having nothing bigger than one-yen coins, proceeded to take the next 3-hours counting them out. She could not count very well.

Finally, after more bows and thank yous, it was my turn. The clerk*** bowed, welcomed me, and rang up my order. She was less thorough with me, as she did not try to wrap every single item individually. Wow, this is a change, I thought. She dropped my hot tempura lunch into the bag, followed by a few other small items (they never, ever bag a purchase for a customer unless he/she has only a few items and they are feeling rather energetic.) Then came the ice cream sandwich. She wanted to know if it was alright to put it in the same bag as the hot tempura. Been through that before. How do I respond in Japanese with such extreme sarcasm that her ears melt and she never, ever, asks such a thing again?

At last, I got out of there---serves me right for giving that overpriced ripoff chain my money---and began the walk back home. Oh goody, the Denenchofu Private Girls School apparently was out early today and huge throngs of the fine young ladies were hogging the entire sidewalk. I knew that it would be almost impossible to get by them without being banged, shoved, and trampled, so I headed the other direction. I crossed the street and waited at the intersection for the light to change. (Nobody actually does that in Denenchofu, the preferred method is to just blindly cross the street without a glance.) As I entered the crosswalk, an imbecile in a Benz turned left into my path, kindly stopping just before the bumper impacted my leg.

I went directly to local over-priced liquor store and picked up a bottle of Old Crow to go with the soba tea Ms. O had given me last week. Strangely enough, I rarely drank until last fall. How did I ever avoid it?

*Yes, I have heard Denenchofu referred to as the "Beverly Hills of Tokyo." It's a nice area, but I gotta say that, except for the celebrities, I doubt it has much in common with Beverly Hills. That might not be a bad thing.

**Somewhat exaggerated.

***They are exclusively women at the Denenchofu Precce unless you get there on a special day when they are training/breaking in young males. I would guess they are future managers and not cashiers.

Edited for semi-clarity at 19:42

What's the keyword?

Over on Japan Economy & News Blog, one can read a number of reports on the continuing decline in sales at department stores. I suppose there are many reasons for this, but one thing is for sure: Poor service has nothing to do with it, for Japan is as well-known for its uniformly good---even superior---service as it is for being hygiene-obsessed and uniquely having 4 seasons.

Imagine my surprise when due to what she called bad service, the wife decided to go down to Minatomirai for lunch instead of our usual Takashimaya. She didn't actually refuse to go, but said she'd eat at Takashimaya (reluctantly) but would do no shopping.

So off to Yokohama we went, with her explaining her reasons---repeatedly over the 20+ minute ride---for cutting up our Takashimaya credit card and ditching thoughts of investing in Takashimaya stocks*. Seems she was so upset by the service at the Shinjuku Takashimaya that even after several complaints and entirely phony apologies, she is planning on sending a written complaint to the president of the company.

A week or so ago, she had stopped at the Shinjuku branch of Takashima to pick up some sushi and discovered that they were holding a special event there for Kyushuu foods. After picking up some ¥200 each fish cakes from one vendor, she went into line to pay. The clerks were telling folks which line to stand and wait in because it was quite crowded.

Finally, she got to the Money Taker. The MT woman said, "Keyword, please."

A**ko: Huh? What keyword?

MT: Didn't you see the TV CM? You have to have the keyword.

The wife, not being the submissive little Japanese lady of myth and fetish was less than pleased to be bothered with such nonsense and let the woman know it. The "embarrassed-looking" Money Taker went to ask the "Idiotic-Looking Manager".

I-LM: We're very sorry, but we can't sell you those fish cakes without the keyword.

A**ko: Do you mean I have to watch TV for a keyword and I can't buy anything here if I don't? I don't care about the discount, I just wanna buy these.

I-LM: Sorry. There are many other items that may be useful to you that you can buy here, but since this is a special event, you cannot by those fish cakes without the keyword. It's only those which you cannot buy.

Ready to punch an Idiotic-Looking Manager A**ko: You don't have any signs saying that a keyword is needed. None of your staff told anyone. I stood in line to buy these. Why don't you let people know before they waste their time?

I-LM: Well, if we put a sign up, then customers will tell each other the keyword and anyone could buy it.

After a few minutes of this, and perhaps fearing for his life, he offered to call someone higher up "to apologize." She refused as "I didn't want an apology! They wouldn't admit that they did anything wrong, they just wanted to apologize because I had to wait."

She sent an e-mail through Takashimaya's website complaining about that, and they wrote back and said that they would set up a sign informing customers of the need for a keyword in future events. Since they still "have not admitted they they did anything wrong," she still refuses to accept any vague non-apology apology.

Personally, I find this shocking! Less than perfect service in Japan? And an improper apology from the always polite citizens who always sincerely apologize? Perhaps the wife has been spoiled and no longer understands Japan.

*We would not invest in the stocks expecting to gain anything, but because stockholders get a 10% discount on purchases. Mitsukoshi offers a similar scam deal and she is now considering an "investment" there. This isn't an uncommon thing in Japan from what I have heard and it is done for the discount and other benefits, not as a "normal" investment.

Descent into an obsessive-compulsive world

Ahhh. A seat on the train that I could get without fighting for. I know that according to some fellow from Melbourne who writes articles boosting bigotry that I should do as the natives do (which ones?), but I cannot fight for a train seat. I sorta feel it is undignified for a healthy adult male---or female---to push his/her way through a waiting line and rush into a train just to grab a seat. And I am one without much dignity left; when I am finally able to leave the job that I have had off and on for way too long, I will have to shovel manure for a year to get some back.

But, at least last night I had a seat. I pulled out my copy of Fooled by Randomness in the futile hope of exercising my few remaining brain cells, when I heard a sound that sent an electric shock through my body. An open-mouth, let-it-all-blow-out sneeze. A quick check. Luckily, it was not in my direction, but the young lady standing in the aisle across from me had let one rip directly on the folks seated in front of her. Then I noticed that she was wearing a mask. Well, that was OK then, especially since I would not be getting a spittle shower from her.

Back to Fooled. Within a few seconds, we arrived at the next station. The sparsely-filled train was much quieter than the more usual sardine can train as we waited for a few more folks to get on.

Then I heard it. It was sort of a slow awakening, like noticing a leaky faucet in the middle of the night. Sniff-sniff-sniff-sniff-sniff-sniff-sniff-sniff-sniff-sniff-sniff-sniff-sniff-sniff-sniff-sniff-sniff-sniff-sniff-SNORT!!!-sniff-sniff-sniff-sniff. I began to search for the source with the same morbid curiosity that people have when they pass by the scene of an accident hoping to see a mangled body.

I located him---a middle-aged guy sitting on the far end of the seat across from mine. I was strangely unable to take my eyes off of him. No, he was not attractive in the way that the freckle-faced woman I had shared a moment of eye contact with a month or so earlier was, but he was fascinating. How would he deal with his severe case of post nasal drip, I wondered. After all, if I am gonna do like the natives (which ones?) I have to learn by example.

He sniffed with every single breath. The lady sitting next to him appeared not to notice. Nobody else seemed to notice either, except for me. Good. It meant that he fit in and was a good subject to observe. He continued to sniff. How long before he uses his fingers, hand, or sleeve? He was obviously not the tissue or handkerchief type.

It wasn't long. First there was a slow wipe with the fingers of the right hand. That wasn't enough, as the sniffing continued. A moment later, the left hand went up. The sniffing did not stop nor slow.

This got me to thinking. I'd seen young guys with similar nose trouble, who while talking to young women, take a big head-clearing 93 decibel snort. The young ladies appeared to take it in stride. I've even seen the singer (and talented actor) Kim Taku do sort of a cool, manly snort on a TV drama. Perhaps the babes like it.

Hmmm. Had I missed my chance with the beautiful freckle-faced lady of a month ago when we made and held eye contact on a crowded train? The sort of eye contact that one does not normally make in Tokyo? I must admit, I hadn't known what to do at the time. Had I been in the States, perhaps just a smile would have been fine, and the world would have gone on as usual. But no, Japan is special. What if I had, while staring deep into her pretty eyes, taken a deep, studly, phlegm-clearing snort? Would the evening have turned out differently? Would I have finally been able to enjoy a mid-life fling with a cute younger gal?

No, I had to come back to reality. Perhaps I cannot always do like the natives (which ones?) do after all. For my wife, being unreasonably selfish about these sorts of things, would have refused to share me with the pretty freckle-faced lady.

I got off the train at my stop trying to figure out when I had started paying so much attention to such things. When I reached my "mansion," I felt an irresistible urge to repeatedly wash my hands with scalding hot water.

"Every day I am looking at the market developments with a sense of alarm and urgency," the paper quoted Nakagawa as saying in reference to yen volatility in an interview. Reuters.

Me too, though not about the yen volatility that Nakagawa was talking about. So for the last week, I have been trying to avoid newspapers, the Internet and anything else that could cause current events to ruin my day.

This seems to work as I am able to take a more relaxed view of life. A few days ago when I saw some fine students from a nearby private girls school force a little old lady using a cane to come to a stop and squeeze herself up against the wall so that she would not interfere with their hogging of the entire sidewalk, I was barely bothered. I resisted the thought of grabbing granny's stick and using it on the young queens, but instead looked at the bright side---since they do the same thing to me, it meant that I was getting no special foreigner treatment. I was so pleased with that thought, that I entirely forgot about them and was unable to stop and squeeze myself up against the wall. This resulted in collisions and confusion. The confusion being mostly mine as they barely broke pace but continued chatting and giggling and looking for someone else to trample.*

This know-nothing state is so nice that I believe I'll continue it until 2009. I actually know a few folks who always seem to be in such a state. Perhaps they have learned something over the years.

*I now understand why some older folks are so pushy and aggressive in crowded places. Sixty years of being pushed and shoved tends to make one a bit tired of enduring it passively.

Not from around here

As I was returning late this evening from some rather nasty business in a small, nearly deserted town called Fuchinobe, I was shocked by a very unusual young fellow who got on the train at Shin-Yokohama.

I had just gotten out of my seat because I knew that there would be a sardine-packing event at Shin-Yokohama station as 432,551 people would try to fit into each car. Since I needed to get off at the next station after Shin-Yokohama, I had to be somewhere near the exit and not sitting in my seat to be blocked in for the next 10 stations.

I got to the front of the train against the wall just as the insane rush started. I was somewhat fortunate this evening as I was able to become involved in a very intimate threesome between a guy and his girlfriend. Although this was not ideal, it was better than being caught between a couple of semi-sober, coughing, cigarette smoking, garlic breathing, perspiring, barcode-headed old geezers.

Then something very, very weird happened. A young guy whom I assumed to be Japanese--I mean he fit my vision of a stereotypical native Japanese, as unreliable as that has proven to be--began pushing his way on just like everyone else. Then he began to repeatedly say something so out of place and unusual that it immediately attracted my attention. There are signs on the train which ask us to report any suspicious or unclaimed people, but what could I do at the time? I was involved in a menage a trois.

It was not only that the weirdo was saying it, but that he was saying it in a very polite way: "Moshiwakegozaimasen" "Moshiwakegozaimasen." He must have said it 4 or 5 times. I can only assume that he is a new guy here. Cannot be from Tokyo. Maybe not even from Japan. These words are never uttered in this type of situation. Oh, occasionally I hear a "sumimasen" or "gomen nasai." but even that is rare. This is the first time that I have ever heard anyone excuse themselves in such polite language on a train. Even more unbelievable, he appeared to really mean it.

My god, what is this country coming to? Apologizing for pushing and shoving on a train! What's next? Using a handkerchief or tissue when one has a runny nose?

Gas and Global Warming

I was a little late in returning home last night because I had coffee with a civil servant. He's an interesting guy usually and talking to him is sometimes educational. For example, last night he explained that it is now a season called Obon and filled me in on the details of what it is. He does me the same favor every year for every holiday. Don't know if he does this favor for me because I am a non-Japanese who could not be expected to know such things no matter how long I live here, or if it is because I am of the ignorant peasant class and not a bureaucrat.

Anyway, I got on a relatively empty train home and stood near the door so that I could make a transfer a few stations later without being pushed, shoved, and trampled very much. I am fast enough that I can move through the doors and be out of the way before the main mob tries to rush out all at the same time.

I was again first in line at my transfer station and the train soon arrived with a number of empty seats. Even though I was first in line this time, I did not rush through the doors like a man with his ass on fire in order to get a seat while pretending that I didn't really want one. I leave that sort of thing to the children as it seems un-adult to do it. I have not yet fully adapted to the unique train riding culture.

A few minutes after the train departed, I smelled a rather sulfurous odor. At first I thought it was the breath of a guy who had moved closer to me to talk to his girlfriend, but his mouth was not pointed in my direction. Another thought entered my mind. I looked around to see if former Prime Minister Abe was on the train. I did not see him, so I had to assume that it was some other person with bowel trouble.

Then I started to worry as I often do when this happens. Was it me? After all, I am certain that one could find people---often foreigners---who would claim that Japanese don't fart and even if they did it wouldn't smell bad. You know, someone like the New York Times fashion section reporter who a few years ago wrote an article in which he claimed that the Japanese have "almost no body odor."

I felt somewhat relieved to see another Westerner on the train who could also serve as a suspect in the silent fart attack. Everyone on board was acting innocent and pretending that nothing was wrong, so the guilty person could not be determined.

While enjoying this fun-filled sardine can trip home, I got to thinking about gases and global warming and Japan's leadership in fighting it. Earlier that afternoon I had walked through Denenchofu and was able to keep cool on a very hot day just by standing in front of the open doors of Magi (26 August: oops! Actual name is Maggy.) as they had their AC blowing full blast. A few other shops were doing the same. It used to be even more popular in many areas of Tokyo and one could always enjoy a refreshing breeze standing in front of a shop with its doors wide open and the air conditioning blowing out into the street.

Now this is the way to cool down the earth and save the polar bear. Forget the closing of 24-hour 7-11s at night. More aggressive action is needed. And besides, it's a tradition. Stores in Tokyo have been cooling the sidewalk and planet for decades with their air conditioners. It's all part of the unique relationship with, and respect for, nature.

One of the nice things about living in Tokyo is the number of bookstores. Some even have English language books and magazines---at a huge premium, of course.

I usually go to the bookstore near Denenchofu station once a week or more. Generally, I go to check out the photography magazines such as Nihon Camera or Asahi camera, or cycling mags.

(The August Asahi Camera came out Friday---the annual "Nude" special. When the mags run the Nude "art" specials, they generally sell out very quickly for some reason. I guess photography fans increase in the summer. The good thing is that since this is art---even though many of the images are in color instead of the supposedly more artistic monochromes---censors don't have to scratch away any pubic hair. Interestingly, they still do so for imported photography books with nudes, although they aren't always consistent about it.)

For English books, if possible I will look at a copy in the store to see if it is worth buying, then will order it through Amazon Japan.

The problem is that I have to go during normal work hours as one weekends and at evenings, it is almost impossible to get close enough to even see if a magazine is on the rack, let alone pick it up. Book stores seem to serve as libraries in which one may leisurely read magazines and books. While reading, you can feel free to block everyone else in the store. Should you see someone trying to squeeze through just enough to see or even pick up a book or magazine, you may be the nail that sticks up and let them through, or you may do as most and ignore them.

For some reason, I no longer even bother on weekends.

What can you do?

Some things are difficult to adjust to when you move to a new place---especially to another country. After years there are still things I cannot adjust to.

I am making every effort not to be offended by the offensive word gaijin. It's a waste of time. A lot of non-Japanese of non-Asian origins use it for themselves anyway. Either they don't know or don't care. Even a large number of Japanese consider it offensive. I saw on wikipedia in the discussion area on the gaijin page where some non-Japanese had even said that hen na* gaijin(!!!)was more or less a compliment. (They removed most of the references to the term gaijin as being offensive. Now it just gets a brief mention with some quotes by foreigners using gaijin to refer to themselves.)

I'll get over that to a large degree. I haven't gotten used to the way many will break out in a trot to get ahead of someone in line. I notice this in convenience stores and grocery stores. In convenience stores, someone will hang around staring at a package of instant noodles trying to make the difficult decision or whether or not to buy it, but as soon as they see someone else moving toward the cash register, they suddenly decide not to buy it and rush to be first in line. If they have a full basket and the other person has a pack of gum, there ain't gonna be no polite move to let that other person go first. OK, so I have to remember that the point is to get ahead of everyone else whether or not I actually need to.

The sniffling. This drives a lot of westerners nuts. Got try to get over that too. People aren't gonna start using handkerchiefs. Sneezing and coughing openly on others, especially in trains? Well it's rude and disgusting to Japanese too, most especially if they are the one who gets the slobber shower. But then again, nobody will ever say anything to the offending swine. Just pretend nothing happened.

But what about the snot-sniffers who wipe their nose on their hand and then handle your food and your money with said snot-covered hand? What is the proper etiquette in this case? It has happened to me 3-4 times in the last year. All but one was in Denenchofu/Okusawa. Tonight I got an urge for a McDonald's 80 yen hamburger. Hell, one or two pieces of processed, freeze dried, and microwaved beef byproducts should be OK. I had quit going to the Denenchofu McDonalds because I felt that it was too dirty to eat in, but I figured it would be ok to get something to go.

Well, the old girl at the register had the sniffles. She did not have a tissue. Or gloves. Gloves would have made no difference anyway, because as she was taking my order, she wiped her runny nose twice on the palm of her hand. She did not play with the mucus as I have seen many do after a sneeze, cough, or good healthy nose wipe (on trains and other places) nor did she wash it off. She handed me back my change with her virus-covered snotty hand and then went over and grabbed my burgers and put them in the bag. What should I have done? What's the wonderfully polite Japanese way? What would ol' Barcode head Fujiwara Masahiko have recommended as a neo-bushidoist? I know what I would have said in the US or England or other English-speaking countries. Perhaps "Please wash your hands before touching my food." I could have said a similar thing in Japanese. But I didn't. I would have become a troublesome, complaining henna gaijin. And the same thing would happen again and again. Nothing would really change.

It's not that this sort of thing doesn't happen elsewhere, it's that I am not used to people doing it right in front of my face. Since they do, I suspect that it isn't really something so unacceptable here. Like the constant sniffling. Which is better to have someone handle your food with snotty hands in front of you, or use snotty hands to handle it without your knowing it? I do know that you can get fired in the US for it---I knew a girl who was fired because she kept picking or touching her nose around the salad bar at the place she worked. Would she have been fired here? Never mind, just enjoy your sushi.

*In case you don't know, hen (na) means weird. And "weird outsider" ain't no compliment.

TV 4 and gaijin

Kanto area channel 4 did an update on the murder of Lindsay Hawker this morning. The reporter on the case who is sort of a Gerado Rivera-type repeatedly referred to gaijin while occasionally adding the suffix san. This despite the fact that broadcast guidelines supposedly prohibit the use of this derogatory term. There is nothing one can do about this as it simply reflects the mindset of many in Japan. Forget political correctness, racial discrimination itself is still legal in Japan. And look at who has been re-elected as the mayor of Tokyo twice despite being an open bigot/racist.

The police still have not caught Ms. Hawkers killer (Ishihashi).

(The use of the term gaijin, does not, however, make the user a racist. Its use is widespread, even among Japanese who live in other countries who may call the citizens of that country gaijin. Japanese tend not to use it in front of a non-Japanese, and many believe it would be rude to do so. It is so controversial apparently, that Wikipedia has rewritten its page and pretty much eliminated its discussion on the controversy. No citations, they claim. They also cannot find citations that support the fact that Chinese are called Chukokujin. Would not a Japanese-English dictionary suffice?)

I have noticed that the idea of sharing a sidewalk is not well-developed in Tokyo. I am sure someone would say that this is because sidewalks here tend to be narrow, but even in areas with wide sidewalks folks tend to spread out and take up the entire sidewalk if possible, or at least walk down the middle crowding everyone else. Several years ago a guy told me that he recognized yakuza because, among other things, they would walk down the middle of the sidewalk and force others into the gutter. I wondered then if everyone in Tokyo wasn't in the yakuza.

Arrows on the sidewalks designating which side to walk on are ignored. You can notice this especially on stairs in train stations, and it doesn't have to be during a crowded rush hour either. People walk willy-nilly where ever they want, usually without watching where they are going. Folks will perhaps yield to someone coming the other way at the very last minute just before colliding head on.It sort of looks like something out of a Three Stooges movie, both dancing left and right trying to decide which way to go as there are no general rules which are regularly followed that I can see. (You have to be goofy to follow the arrows on stairs anyway. They may switch sides themselves, like they do in parts of Shibuya station. If people followed them, they'd be running into one another more than they do now. Fujiwara may be right about logic in Japan, at least as far as the arrow painters are concerned.)

Nobody seems to care about this. It is just the way it is. I once was talking to a guy who had returned from New York after his first trip and he remarked about what a "good system" it was that people tended to stick to the right side of the sidewalk. And he generally disliked anything about the US. (Ex-school teacher. In the past in Japan the counterpart of a right wing nutjob. A left wing loonybird. The loonybird teacher's union now has been properly tamed by the nutjobs. The union was a much-needed balance. Too bad the nutjobs have it so easy now.)

I was walking in the rain several months ago on a narrow sidewalk near Shibuya. A middle-aged guy with a couple of middle-aged women was coming the other way. They were spread out blocking the entire sidewalk and showed no signs of moving to one side to let me by. I guess I was supposed to walk into traffic to avoid inconveniencing them. Being a rude, ill-mannered foreigner I didn't. I just stopped directly in front of them and finally, after a bit of shock and confusion, they were kind and polite enough to move over and let me have a portion of the sidewalk. I was so impressed with such traditional Japanese good manners, that I now often do this in similar situations.

Was at Starbucks in Mukashi-kosugi

last night. A young guy was chatting up two young women at the table next to me. All appeared to be college students.

Suddenly, the suave, sophisticated, well-mannered guy let loose with 2 back-to-back full volume sneezes. Naturally, this being Japan, he did not attempt to to cover his mouth, but did hold his hand about 5-6 inches in front of it coating it and everything near with a layer of spit. Then, he looked at his saliva-covered hand, licked something off, and began chewing it. The girls paid no attention to this.

The Sneeze

Usually, if one has problems with noise from the folks next door, it is because of a loud stereo or TV or a late party or something similar. Years ago, I was temporarily staying in a so-called monthly mansion (a small, flimsy, over-priced monthly apartment) and had a woman next door who stayed up all night banging the floor and arguing with one of the guys who was saying over with her that night. Finally, she stayed up all night moving out and stiffed the owners out of rent---but that's another story.

Anyway, our place is pretty quiet--very much so for a Japanese "mansion." Ours is not so flimsy or small, and I guess not over-priced for the area. The neighbors are quiet, much more so than one often encounters in American apartments.

But then again, there is the sneeze. The typical Japanese sneeze. A sneeze? Couldn't be that bad. But then again, you may not have experience with the Japanese sneeze. There is no attempt to stifle or at least quiet a sneeze. To do so could damage one's eardrums. So one lets it out full volume. One may, or may not, try to cover his/her mouth to prevent the force of the blast from soaking another in slobber. But one does not, ever try to reduce the volumn. Worry about one's own eardrums, but not those of another.

Our neighbor seems to have the very common allergy caused when the Japanese government decided to cut down much of the original forests and replant them with cedar trees. (Tokyo is covered in pollen from those trees this time of year. This is known as Japan's unique love of nature.) So he often goes into sneezing spells of 10-20 in a row. He is in another spasm as I type this. The problem is that they are full blast (I would bet over 90 decibels) and they nearly knock me to the floor, even through the walls. It is actually painful to the ears. Of course, it is much worse on a train when there are no walls to protect me from the near-atomic blast of noise, pressure and snotty slobbers.

Anyway, just another small thing that bothers me more than it should. I should just accept and enjoy the cultural differences. I wish thay everyone could have the experience of being exposed to the Japanese sneeze. Hey, maybe Fujiwara could export it with bushido in order to save the world!

I'm so NOT sorry

I was on the train this afternoon when it happened. Something I worried about. I wondered just what my reaction would be. Would I say something like "You
f**king prick," or would I be Japanese-like and just pretend everything was fine?

Now you have to remember that in Japan we sneeze and cough all over everyone and everything. Well, maybe not always, and MAYBE not everyone does it everywhere, but one gets the feeling after seeing it all the time that it is not uncommon. Folks often wear masks when they have a cold, flu, or an allergy so that they need not use a handkerchief or tissue. That would be "troublesome." So we cough and sneeze and it blows the mask away and snot and spittle and germs fly out the side. It's OK though, for this is Japan and germs are different here than those in dirty foreign countries. Japan's germ are, like Japan, pure. Of course there are other ways to avoid handkerchief use. Let's say you are in a book store browsing magazines. You feel a sneeze coming. In Japan, we NEVER stifle a sneeze for it is dangerous. (I am not joking here). No problem---just put your face into the book you are looking at and sneeze there. (I have seen that many times. So I never buy a magazine from the front. I always grab one from the rear. Don't like paying for snot, there is enough given out freely here.)

Anyway, I was sitting on the train from Futakotamagawa to Jiyugaoka (Oimachi line) when a fine young gentleman to my left looked my way and suddenly lost control of his mouth and coughed directly in my face from less than 12 inches away. He immediately looked away, coughed once more into his hand and then pretended nothing happened. Amazingly, he did not apologize! Forgot he had no mask? Imagine that, no apology from a citizen of the country with the most polite people in the universe who are always apologizing, did not do so!!!! I was so shocked and confused. I was tempted to say something less than polite (because I am a rude, dangerous, inconsiderate baka gaijin) but I didn't because I knew if I did there would be no benefit to it. In fact, others around me may have thought that I was being the typical, rude, troublemaking foreigner for saying anything. The most I MIGHT get is a pretend apology to avoid trouble. And besides, why should a foreigner care since he/she is already full of germs and diseases.

It got me to thinking, just how often do people apologize to me here? One would assume that since the Japanese are the politest folks on earth, and since they apologize so much more often than anyone else that I would have noticed it in reality. I have people who come late to a meeting and apologize. Then come late again. And again. We once lived next door to a woman who had her noisy barking dog out walking it every morning at about 730. It barked at everyone who walked near her. She apologized every time, every morning. Dog still barked every time, every morning. I have people who apologize for making a mistake when speaking English in a class. Why? Of course, if money is involved (I am a customer) apologizes are offered for every little thing. Very sincerely, of course.

I rarely get apologies when people run into me on the sidewalk, in a store---crowded or not---in a train at any time, or even when I am hit by an idiot on a bike, or when some cuts directly in front of me and everyone else and forces us off the sidewalk...I can only remember a few times at the most when someone has as much as muttered a "sumimasen." And, yes, it is such a rare occurrence here that I should remember it. Generally folks slam into me and then pretend that they aren't there. Or I am not there. Whatever, there ain't no sorry involved. Although in the grocery store, I have noticed that some women will intentionally run into someone lightly with their buggy, then say gomen nasai or sumimasen. I don't know, but it seems that rude, ill-mannered foreigners tend to say "excuse me" when they want to get by you before hitting you.

It is really confusing because I can't understand how folks can be so polite and apologize so much without being polite or apologizing much. Perhaps they are generally polite by Japanese standards. If so, many of those standards would not pass for polite at all elsewhere. Could it be that the Japanese are no more polite than anyone else? Now think about it. Even if you are an ill-mannered, self-centered non-Japanese, wouldn't you be as embarrassed as hell and apologize profusely if you coughed directly in someone's face? Wouldn't you be truly sorry? And you aren't even a native of the country with the world's most polite people. How could this be?

I am sure that it's because I am a clueless foreigner and can't understand Japan. You see, rude is different in Japan. It is really polite. (I actually read something like that on a website once. It had something about the Japanese language being so polite that even being rude was polite. Wish I could find it again.)

I don't know. Japan is so misunderstood. Why the Chinese, and the Koreans, and now the even the U.S. Congress (!!!) don't believe Japan's very sincere and heartfelt "apologies" for doing the bad things it really didn't do in WW2.

Poor Japan, victim again. Maybe I should go apologize to the f**king prick who coughed in my face.

You don't unnerstan' Japan

I know that many folks say that the Japanese are especially clean. Uniquely clean. The cleanest people in the whole universe. But then I often see guys go to the toilet and leave without washing their hands, or at best a quick 1 second splash of water (and no soap) over them. Today, I was at a rather snobbish area and entered the men's toilet. A guy was in there doing a rather smelly number two. When he left he splashed water over one hand for a half second and exited. Now you see why bowing is preferred to shaking hands here.

I have seen kitchen workers do this. In Sakuragicho's (Yokohama) Washington Hotel building, there is a restaurant named Tsuki. About 3 years ago when I was working at the Berlitz there (which had no toilet) we had to use one of their toilets. A guy dressed in chef's clothes came in, took a leak, did a quick two finger rinse and left. Mmmmmm. Extra flavor with the sushi. Saw the same thing near a unagi (eel) restaurant in Futako Tamagawa's Takashimaya Department store.

In Denenchofu, we have the filthiest McDonald's and Wendy's I have ever seen. Amazingly, the near universally dirty Kentucky Fried Chicken is very clean here. Anyway, I was in Wendy's the other night and decided I had better wash my hands before eating. I went to the men's restroom. No faucet, no basin. Outside the restrooms was a basin for hand-washing. I used it, but the soap dispenser wouldn't work. There was no other place in the building to wash one's hands unless there was a wash basin somehow hidden from view in the small kitchen. Gee, wonder where the staff washed their hands before handing food?

Maybe these things happen because Japan is different. It is so clean, there are no germs---except of course, those on filthy foreigners, but that is to be expected. And since Japan's sh*t doesn't stink, I supposed there is no bacteria to get on one's hands after a crap and a wipe.

Or, since everything in Japan happens as the direct result of tradition and for no other reason, perhaps there is one which is responsible for folks not washing their hands after using the toilet. It couldn't be the same as in other countries, that some folks are lazy, or don't think or care, or are just plain dirty. No! This is Japan! Well, in the not too distant past, farmers here still used nightsoil (human feces) on rice and other crops. (Still was going on post-WW2). Perhaps because of this Japanese tradition, having sh*t covered hands and and eating food contaminated with someone else's feces is no problem. It's uniquely Japan. (It's not uniquely Japanese, but don't worry, that statement is nearly never, ever true.)

Kyoto

Took a quick trip to Kyoto, but unfortunately there was a big festival going on Sunday which met it was extremely crowded. Had to cut some of our plans. In a way it was like Tokyo, people pushing and shoving us, cutting in front, generally being rude But of course they were tourists, most likely from Tokyo. What else could we expect? An occasional "excuse me"? Not in Japan!