Gaijin in Disguise

My first week in Japan was off to a terrible start.  If I was the type of person who believed in signs, I would have thought I made a terrible mistake and was being punished by the universe. 

Sick masks with style

I got in Friday night, suited up early Saturday morning still feeling a bit like shit and walked a cold seven minutes to school.  I thought I was doing a pretty good job of blending in.

Sick mask on, check. 

Dark hair, check. 

Yellowish skin, check. 

Business attire, check. 
So why was everyone politely staring at me with disgust? Then, I heard it. 

CLOMP! CLACK! CLOMP! CLACK!

View of my street from my balcony

Bummerpants.  I sounded like an elephant in clogs running down the street.  Japan is super quiet, no one ever wants to disturb anyone, and my heeled-boots were quite plainly the most raucous thing on the street.  Whoops.  Strike 1. 


I would encounter many more strikes this week, so many that I should probably have been kicked off the baseball team of Life. Like that morning in preparation for suiting up when I forgot every science lesson I ever had on the required temperature of water to turn to steam. In lieu of having any hangers yet, I cleverly slipped on my jacket and began to steam iron it.  That lasted a whole second before the 212ºF burn registered in my brain and about an hour for it to fully register on my arm. 



I've also learned that when you look somewhat Japanese, you can't get away with the wide-eyed blank stare to say you don't understand Japanese.  They just think you are mentally retarded.  This thought is only confirmed for them when the look is combined with the fact you are trying to buy a Tester bottle of lotion.  She may have been trying to tell me it was a tester, and I may just have kept smiling and nodding.  Thank god my friend heard her say something about a sticker, and then alerted me with a thunderous laugh so loud that it alerted everyone else.  Shit like this keeps happening.  Sometimes I confidently slap down my money only to find its not enough as I am walking away, or I walk away without my change.  Or most embarrassing is when I decided to suck it up and use some of the Japanese I did know and to use it confidently.  Result: I said "Please." to a woman instead of "Thank you."  It doesn't seem like a big deal, but in true Japanese fashion: I was embarrassed by my muddle.


Note to self: Learn how to say you don't speak Japanese in Japanese.


So, my first week was filled with these sort things, whenever I was out- which wasn't often.  I was sick for almost all of it, either coughing, snotting or throwing up.  So that's nice.  But, there were a few wins here and there to keep me on my feet. 

White packet of warmth

My second night here, Kali, her boyfriend, Shigae, and I went to an Izakaya.  It's like a Japanese-style pub or tapas bar.  When we left, the hostess handed us these little white packets.  I was excited to receive whatever gift it was, but even more excited when Kali and Shigae showed me what it was.  This packet is full of magic, and when you shake it, it starts to heat up.  So on cold Nagoya nights, you can hold them in your pockets to keep warm on your walk home.  Score!


The next day, my first day off, I took a walk to McDonalds for breakfast (Fail.  The second time eating American style fast food in Japan and its only my 3rd meal).  On the back, I stopped into K's, an electronics department store.  Holy shit, things are expensive.  Some shitty hair dryer for $40, a water kettle for $70, yet flatscreens are like $80.  I perused and took a mental inventory for future needs and in the last isle on the last floor, I found my friend, The Heater.  I victoriously took him up to the register and pretended to know what she was saying for a whole 5 seconds before giving up and meekly muttering "English" followed by an embarrassed laugh.  She asked me to fill out some paper with my name, phone and address.  I told her I didn't know them and she said "Our secret, ok." and soon I paid and was out the door with my new best friend. 


I spent the rest of the day walking around trying to find a towel.  It would take almost a week to accomplish this task, much to my and my sweatshirt's dismay.  I finally located a "dollar store" in a mall and bought the shittiest towel I have ever seen, actually I bought two.  I filled my basket with domestic needs- cups, plates, cutlery, pans, sucker hooks, dish towels, knives, plants, etc.  In total I spent about $70 which is way better than what happens to me at Ikea.


Another epic win, especially in times of feeling sick, was the discovery that one of our other schools in Motoyama is directly behind this store that sells imported foods!  Sure a box of Kraft mac n cheese is like $4, but at least its there, and so are pretzels, Appletizers, cereals, CHEESE, ground coffee and fresh baked French pastries!  And if I get sick of all that, there's two Japanese grocery stores (Mitsuwa is better) and a takoyaki food truck just blocks from my place!


Now, if I can only find a cool bar.

okonomiyaki set w/ miso, veggies, potato salad, fish, rice