Odds 'n' Ends

How is it already the end of the first week of February?! The first five weeks of the year have flown by, and if that's any indication, it'll be June before I know it!

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Sendai's climate is a lot like Seattle's (apparently; I've never been to Seattle). This means that even winter here, while cold, isn't particularly horrid. We get a lot of sunny, cold days, some rain storms, and some snow storms, although the snow isn't ever really that heavy where I am and it doesn't usually stick. This has been a pretty snowy week, though. This means, though, that no one knows how to drive in the snow, and worse still, everyone freaks out when there's snow on the roads, regardless of the road conditions. It took me twice as long as it should have to get to school yesterday because of that. And, no one turns their lights on in snowy/rainy weather. And so, I have had well-meaning strangers remind me that my lights are on.

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I need to write a newsletter, but I'll make the announcement here as well. I'm leaving Japan sometime around the end of June. I'm currently applying for graduate programs in Applied Linguistics, so we'll see what happens. All in all, I think this is a good thing--although there's a big back story here that I'm not going to share on the Internet--but leaving Japan will be strange. I've gotten so used to living here, kindly strangers at the gym not withstanding, that it'll be weird to move back to America and to readjust to life there and also, most likely, to a new place within the U.S.

Culture clashes?

I was ranting to my sister on gchat earlier today. My sister is a good person to rant to because she gets me, she doesn't try to offer advice, she's online at 2:30 in the morning her time, and she takes my side. This rant was provoked by, what else, another experience at the swimming pool:

me: query:

her: shoot

5:37 PM me: if, hypothetically, you were sharing a lane with someone at the pool and you noticed that they swam about twice as fast as you, what would you do when you realized that they were on your tail?

her: let them pass me and, if possible, switch lanes

5:38 PM do the japanese believe in a different way of resolving this conflict?

me: i don't know; i kept having to interrupt my swim today for this turtle who was ahead of me. even when i was just behind him at the wall he wouldn't let me go in front of him

5:39 PM and i've already been yelled at for passing people

her: seriously?!?!?!?!?!

is part of their complete conformity the idea that everyone's supposed to swim at the same pace?

me: i don't know

this isn't the first time this has happened, either

5:41 PM it's not that big of a deal when i'm swimming 100s, but i was trying to do 3x400 for part of my workout today and i'd be right behind him at about 150 m and either have to stop or cut the lap short to turn around mid-lane so i was in front of him

i swim in the "advanced" lane--all that's required for the advanced lane is the ability to swim 50 meters without stopping

5:42 PM problem is that i'm about 50 secs per 50 meters--which is about twice as fast as most people there

often times people will change lanes when i get in, but today this guy was oblivious and in my lane the entire time

(can't you tell that i was a bit irked by him?)

5:43 PM her: hahahahaha

yeah... just a little

i'd be annoyed

5:44 PM me: the problem is it's a confined space, so even when you pass people, one or two laps later they're in front of you again

it's just a strange demographic--i'm easily the youngest adult there by about 25 to 30 years

5:51 PM (ps: rox signed spilly to a 2 year, $3.25 million deal. hammel, street, betancourt still need to sign)

her: that's good.

the japanese are weird

we've established this

me: lol, i know we've established this, but still....

5:52 PM oh, want to hear something else?

her: haha yeah

me: i left the gym on sunday without blow drying my hair. the lady at the front desk, as she was giving me back my card, said, "Ms S****, your hair...." [meaning, "are you aware your hair is wet?"]

5:53 PM i said, "it's fine"

she said, "don't catch cold."

i mean, wouldn't you assume that (a) i would know my hair was wet and (b) had intentionally decided not to dry it

5:54 PM her: hahahahah

yeah

me: besides, colds are caught when you catch a virus, not when you walk outside with wet hair. wet hair might make you more susceptible, but it in and of itself won't make you catch cold

besides, i was going maybe 100 ft to my car

her: hahaha

5:55 PM you really don't like people telling you what to do, right?

me: what was your first clue?

her: haha

i figured it out a while ago

5:56 PM me: well, it depends on the situation. but i don't like feeling like i'm on display, which is how i feel all the time here.

5:57 PM her: that's tough

it's the unfortunate side of being an outsider in a homogeneous country, but understanding everything that is going on

6:00 PM me: exactly. and maybe more so because i come from a culture that expects adults to be responsible for their own selves and lives--it's your business if you want to make stupid choices--to a culture that thinks that adults need to be told how to do everything. everywhere you go, everything is automated with instructions or safety reminders that play ad nauseum

6:04 PM her: that too, plus you have a fierce independent streak that works very well in the US and thrives in the independent-driven culture of the us of a

me: and totally does not work here

While I was in America, everything I did--backing into parking spaces, mentioning differences between Japan and America, turning into the wrong lane (and I really did turn into oncoming traffic)--was an occasion for her to assert that "the East has corrupted me." Hence her comment about how we'd already established the fact that the Japanese are weird.

I really do think that there's something I'm missing about how people behave in the swimming pool. Part of me thinks that I'm over thinking this, but I am amazed by how often, when I'm sharing a lane with someone, they'll take off right as I'm about to hit the wall and turn, which then makes me stop because I can't keep swimming without hitting the person in front of me. My sister and I both seem to have assumed that part of lane sharing etiquette includes paying attention to what the other person is doing and tailoring your swim to theirs. And if they're much faster than you, you do all you can to let them swim without having to factor you into their swim. (In America, when I was swimming regularly, I was regularly one of the slower swimmers, so I did this a lot. Even when you're a slow swimmer, it's hard to share the lane with some one who is much faster than you are. Here, I'm one of the faster swimmers--having 30 years on most people as well as better form will do that--and so I see the other side of it). My theory is that group-oriented cultures are not actually as considerate of the individual. It seems counter-intuitive, but I think it's because everyone is schooled to consider the needs and the desires of the group, not necessarily the other individuals. So if an individual is markedly different from the group, they're the one who has to bend, not the group. People raised in individualistic societies learn that other people also have needs and desires, and when they conflict, there's a negotiation that has to take place. Maybe that negotiation doesn't happen in the same way here? And maybe that's also why the Japanese are inconsiderate drivers? I don't know; I'm speculating.

I do know this, though. I never expected something as simple as swimming every day to provide as much fodder for this blog as it has!

KeiWai

Or, context matters.

At the grocery store today, I noticed some signs. I've seen these signs many times, but it struck me again how much context matters. These signs say "KY" on them in large letters. Then, they say in smaller Japanese writing, kakau yasku (low prices). Some of them even add kurashi yasuku (cheap living). (The word in Japanese is yasuku, which means cheap, but I think it would be more natural for American stores to use the phrase "low prices" rather than "cheap prices." Somehow, cheap prices sounds vaguely strange to me.

I think most Americans would have another association for KY, one that wouldn't be used in a grocery store add campaign.

There's another use for KY in Japanese, though. Pronounced kei wai, it is an abbreviation for the phrase kuuki yomenai, which refers to someone who can't read the environment around them and amend their behavior or ideas accordingly. In a culture which places a high value on conformity and a low value on speaking one's mind, the ability to form one's behavior, ideas, and expectations to the environment without having anything said to you is one that is highly prized. Conversely, the inability to do so is stigmatized. So, if you say someone is keiwai, it's an insult.

Which, to me, makes this add campaign doubly interesting.

The Gaijin Card

Gaijin means foreigner in Japanese. Technically, this word is gaikokujin, which is comprised of three characters, 外国人, which, combined, mean outside-country-person. Gaijin is comprised of the first and last characters of that triad, and so the characters, literally translated, mean outside-person (or outsider, maybe, given that -jin is suffixed to countries to make nouns into nationality adjectives. See: nihon/nihonjin, amerika/amerikajin). I have heard of foreigners who take offense to the use of gaijin, and insist on being called gaikokujin, but in my experience, most foreigners (myself included) just adopt the term as referring to ourselves.

Gaijin actually has a bit of a broader meaning; it also means anyone who is not Japanese. So, Japanese abroad will talk about the inhabitants of whatever country they're visiting as gaijin. When I heard this on the America trip last spring I was rather amused.

Anyway, gaijin, particularly the ones who have been here a while, live in sort of a strange world in Japan. On the one hand, especially if you look foreign, people are super nice and the cut you a lot of slack. They go out of their way to bend to you; I have had shopkeepers--after we've completed an entire transaction in Japanese--apologize that they can't speak English. On the other hand, once you have lived here, learn Japanese, and learn the rules, it gets old. You get used to Japan, but the Japanese don't get used to you. So, all of the obaachans at the pool who want to know where I'm from, why I'm not married, and whether I would marry a Japanese man, probably don't realize that I have already had this conversation dozens of times and I'm sick of it; for them, it's a new thing.

So, sometimes, I "play the gaijin card." By this I mean that I take advantage of my foreignness and do something that I *know* isn't kosher, but will make my life easier. Recently, that has been jaywalking. Especially when I'm running late for something, but even when I'm not, it kills me to stand and wait for a light when there are no cars coming.

My cell phone stopped working yesterday, so today I took it to the carrier to see if they could do anything. The took it and gave me a loaner cell phone for the week. The transfered the SIM card, so all of my contacts and stuff are in it. They should be able to get my phone back to me in a week, and I have to return the loaner phone within 15 days after that, or I get charged 315 yen per day. I kind of dread these kinds of transactions because I invariably get hit with new and somewhat technical vocabulary, but also because my very presence tends to make shopkeepers nervous. The lady today, though, was a professional. Not one word to me about my Japanese skills or her lack of English. And she was patient when I asked her to define the words I didn't know. It made me realize that most of my interactions with people here really are, to some degree, normal. I just tend to blog about the ones that aren't.

An Ephiphany of Sorts

I don't know why, but I've been more annoyed that usual with the fact that I pretty much can't go anywhere without getting stared at. Even the pool. For crying out loud, I swim about six days a week, and there are a lot of regulars who should be used to me by now!

Today, though, I made a discovery. At Starbucks today, and ojiichan came up to me while I was plainly engrossed in my book and asked me in Japanese where I am from. I ignored him and he tried again, asking whether it was America. I kept ignoring him and he went away. Later, at the pool (actually, after I'd just gotten out of the bath and before I'd grabbed my towel), an obaachan asks me--in bad English--where I am from. I ignored her, too. She then mumbles to in Japanese, "I wonder where." I didn't dignify that with a response either. She turned and went away. The worst part about this is that I didn't even really feel that bad for ignoring these people. I've been here long enough to know that Japanese people do not just strike up conversations with strangers. This is not just my intuition, either; both my roommate and teammate have said the same thing. Unless they're in the bath, and then all bets seem to be off, at least among women. This is one double standard that I'm sick of. I have passable Japanese; I don't do anything super outrageous; I follow the rules to the extent that I'm able/aware of them. But somehow, people don't have to follow the rules with respect to me. It's annoying.

Last week, I was in the bath after my swim, and the other lady in there with me started talking to me. After running through the normal questions--really, I need a t-shirt--she then commented that because I've been here a while I must have learned to do things the Japanese way. I said that I think that to a certain degree I had. She remarked that that must be the case because there wasn't another way of doing things. I said yes, but then tried to explain that my foreignness is something I can never lose. It wouldn't matter if I lived in Japan the rest of my life; I'd still be a foreigner here. People would still stare. I'd still get questions about where I'm from; I'd still get comments on my Japanese; I'd still get compliments that I don't understand (apparently I have a small face and this is a desirable thing).

I don't think that I was able to communicate this to her very well; I don't totally understand why it frustrates me so much, either. I guess it has something to do with the fact that the longer I live here, the more acclimated I am, the more normal everything feels, the more irritated I get by the fact that everyone else seems to want to comment on my foreignness. I stopped thinking about it a long time ago--actually, I haven't; it's just stopped defining every encounter here--and so I'd appreciate not having a reminder every time I go out that I stand out. A lot.

End of rant. But ignoring people seems to work well....

Pumpkin Bread

A friend (thank you CT!) sent me some cans of pumpkin a couple of weeks ago, and I finally had the time to make pumpkin bread. Japan probably has more seasonal food items than America does, but, unfortunately, no pumpkin. (There is a squash-like thing called kabocha which, while tasty, isn't pumpkin.) So, while you can find sweet potato-flavored kit-kat bars, you can't find pumpkin here, and I've been craving it.

I used this recipe for Yeasted Chocolate Chip Pumpkin Bread, and was quite pleased with the results. It's been a long time since I've made anything but whole wheat bread--in fact, since I started baking here, with the exception of one batch of cookies, all I've made is whole wheat bread--so I was a bit surprised by how quickly the dough came together and how easy it was to knead. This was also my first time attempting a sweet bread, and braiding bread dough.

I have no counter space, so I didn't get the strands of dough as long--or as even--as I would have liked. The counter you see above is all the counter I have, and so baking sometimes requires creativity. (Like using the skin and stove top as a place to put things).
The braided loaf. This was kind of fun, although my braid doesn't look very good.
The loaf coiled and set to rise before going into the oven. Some how, this picture doesn't make the bread look very appealing.
Risen and ready to go in the oven.

And the final product....I have a small oven, and this took up almost the entire thing. But it did turn out well. My roommate and her boyfriend came home just as I was taking it out of the oven, and they thought this was quite tasty.

Conversation of the Day

About two weeks ago, I decided I was bored with my 1600 m (32 laps) swim and decided to see if the workout plans I use got any more challenging. They do, and I'm now up to 2 km (40 laps). 1600m was taking me between 35 and 40 minutes, and the 2 km takes me somewhere between 45 and 55 minutes, depending on how I do the drill section. I went to swim today after work and between meeting a friend for dinner, and was sharing my lap lane with an obaachan. Now, if you read this blog with any regularity, you know that the swimming pool, obaachans, and me usually make for interesting stories. (See here and here). I swim 200 m of warm up laps, 400 m of drills, 1200m of just swimming, and 200 m of warm down. Today, I wanted to see if I could do 1 km of the middle section without stopping (20 laps). I did, and when I finished, the obaachan in the pool with me (who has spent most of the time I was swimming at the wall), starts clapping. Then, the following conversation ensues:

Her: 速い、ね. (You're fast, aren't you?)

Me: ああ、そうですか？ (Oh, really? [I still need to learn how to deflect a compliment!])

Her: そうなのよ！全部で55秒だったよ。ああ、また戻ってきたなって驚いて思っていたのよ。 (Really! It takes you about 55 seconds per lap. I keep watching and then you're back at the wall).

Me: ああ、本当ですか？時間は数えていないんですが. (Oh really? I haven't been keeping track of the time).

Her: どのぐらいなの？ (How far?)

Me: 全部で二キロなんですけど。(All told, 2 km.)

Her: ずーと続いてるなのは？(All at once?　[meaning--"how far did you just swim?"])

Me: ああ、それは一キロでした。(That was one km).

Her: 疲れているの？(Are you tired?)

Me: いや、そうでもなんです。(No, not really.)

Her: まあ、若いからね。ただ、ターンがちょっと問題だね。力を使って戻って行った方が速いんだよ。 (Well, you're young. Just your turns need work. If you take your momentum [power] and use it to go back the other direction, you'll be even faster.)

Me: ああ、そうですか？(Oh, really?) [I know my turns need work; I've actually been thinking that I should work on them because they're really inefficient right now.]

She then proceeded to coach me on my turns; going into the wall and turning so that I use my momentum to carry me back the other direction. I was actually kind of grateful for the advice; I keep watching other people at the pool trying to figure out how they do their turns, but at the same time, this isn't the first conversation I've had with people at the pool who begin by complimenting my swimming and end by offering me tips. There was the ojiichan who told me I have nice form but should work on getting my stroke count per lap down and then there was the other ojiichan who told me that I should time my laps and work on getting the time down. And while I appreciate the advice, I would really rather just swim. But, I did swim the remaining 400 m with attention to my turns, so maybe this will be advice I can use. In general, though, there's a larger cultural principle at work here: the Japanese really care about the proper form for doing something. So, at the pool for example, the really good swimmers all look about the same; the all have roughly the same arm movements and position--elongated, with flat hands, whereas mine go in the water cupped so as to be able to pull more water--and their turns all look good. I do think, though, that my form has improved simply by swimming, so maybe there's hope.

Changes

It's been a while since I've updated this thing. I keep thinking about deleting the whole thing, but then I think that, on the off chance that people read it, it's a good way to keep friends updated, albeit passively. Except that I don't update, which kind of defeats the purpose.

Anyway, October and November have been filled with a lot of changes, some difficult, but all, I think, good in the long run.

I passed the year mark October 1, and am surprised, sometimes, how easy I find living here. It helps that I have a grocery store, a car, an apartment, a gym, a job, a routine, friends, and, basically, a life. But, I had most of that at six months, eight months, ten months, and still found things frustrating or stressful just because they were different. But now I don't do very many new things on a day-to-day basis, which makes a big difference.

I met with some of the other missionaries in the area earlier this week, and they lent me a book that's been out of print for 40 years or so. This book is called A Biblical Encounter with Japanese Culture, and it's a semantic analysis of key Japanese concepts contrasted with the corresponding Greek and Hebrew concepts. The author is trying to use these semantic denotations to explore the Japanese world view as contrasted with the Biblical world view, and I'm finding it quite a fascinating read.

Changes are on the horizon, though. My plans for being in Japan have changed a bit (too long and complicated to go into here), and so I'm going to be done in June rather than next October. Which means that I'm free to think about a new direction/new job. I've decided to apply to grad schools again, so I've been spending most of this week/weekend working on those applications. I'm really excited about the prospect of going back to school. I miss the intellectual stimulation and environment, but I know, too, that academia and academic achievement is also one of my biggest temptations to idolatry. So, I'm walking into this process with a lot of prayer....

I'll also be in Colorado Dec. 17-Jan 8, which I'm really looking forward to. So, things are nice and settled here, and I'm planning on enjoying the stability as long as it lasts....

A Hymn to God the Father

I've never really liked poetry; probably because I never really learned to read it properly. And because all the poetry units I had in school devolved into something like "I like how the poet does ___." Poetry just never seemed concrete enough for me. But I do like hymns, which are basically poems set to music, and I'm coming to see that sometimes poetry will do something that prose cannot. This is John Donne's "A Hymn to God the Father", which I read earlier today:

Wilt thou forgive that sin where I begun,

Which is my sin, though it were done before?

Wilt thou forgive that sin through which I run,

And do run still, though still I do deplore?

When thou hast done, thou has not done,

For I have more.

Wilt thou forgive that sin by which I have won

Others to sin? and made my sin their door?

Wilt thou forgive sin which I did shun

A year or two, but wallowed in a score?

When thou hast done, Thou has not done,

For I have more.

I have a sin of fear, that when I have spun

My last thread, I shall perish on the shore;

Swear by Thyself, that at my death, Thy Son

Shall shine as He shines now, and heretofore;

And having done that, Thou hast done;

I fear no more.

(from here)

I like the honest confession and assessment of sin here; how the lack of specific sins, but the acknowledgment of habitual sins and the enticement of others, and the sliding back into sin are so common and accessible. Those are my struggles, too. But above all, the most resonant stanza is the last stanza, where Donne confesses his fear that when his life is over, he will perish rather than live. That is a fear of mine, too, I do confess, but at that moment, the gospel shines brightly indeed.

A Milestone?

I've noticed, when I watch American TV shows, that the layout of the car looks funny because the steering wheel is on the opposite side from what I expect.

I think I spend too much time in the car.