No other river is longer than Jupiter

My last entry veered ever so slightly away from the whole point of this blog, and so I shall endeavour to get back on track and discuss the matter in hand – Japan (AKA Japland). Now I would like you to recall any foreign language lessons that you may have attended, mine is French. Mrs. Bedson was the fuel behind my A grade French GSCE, not that I’m one to brag…We all remember those shopping lessons ou est les bananes s’il vous plait? If only I’d had the same lesson in Japanese before embarking on my weekly food shop…

18. My first Japanese food shop took a hideously long time to do. Fruit and veg was relatively self explanatory, but it was the sugar and salt that presented the greatest challenge. After what felt like half an hour of careful deliberation, I decided, according to the size and shape of granule, which was which. I WAS RIGHT. For future reference, folks, salt is slightly smaller and smoother. (not taking into account rock salt, caster sugar, or icing sugar)

17. Another pair of superficially identically twinned condiments: oil and vinegar. Another half hour flew by, and this time my careful decision process relied on recognizing the thickness of the liquids in question. Feeling confident and full of bravado after my ‘sugar-high’, I made my decision. I was wrong. It would seem that cooking chicken in vinegar tastes rather odd…

16. After 3 hours of the most confusing shopping experience and with no one coming to your aid as they should for such a damsel in distress, you arrive at the till. A word of caution, DO NOT try and offer to use your own bags. Say no to a plastic bag and the reaction will be as if you have just put salt in their tea and cooked their food in vinegar whilst slowly carving away at their leg with a set of western style cutlery.

15. Staying on the bag topic, the Japs have got one thing right, a separate area for packing your goods. None of this waiting-for-the-person-in-front-of-you-to-finish-packing-their-17-cans-of-tuna-before-you-can-be-served nonsense. Here, you have everything put through the till, back in your basket, you pay and away to the separate packing table it is with you, fully equipped with sellotape, spare bags and handy bits of spare paper for those more delicate items.

14. That ‘self packing area’ is only in food shops. When it comes to all your other luxury items, well, well, it would not be decent to walk around with an open plastic bag, now would it? You must leave with a tiny bit of plastic joining it together at the top. God forbid anyone should see what kind of saucy knitwear you may have just bought.

13. There is an unhealthy amount of department stores, at least two per train station. Once you enter, you’ll be lucky to leave in one piece and without buying a pair of novelty socks. It’s as if you’ve entered the labyrinth of a slightly smarter looking east London market, but inside a building. Beware of the shop assistants.

12. As soon as you walk into any shop, your ears start to ring. There are two reasons for this:

11. Reason number 1 – It would seem that according to Japanese law, all shop keepers must have a very nasal and very high pitched voice, reminiscent of Joe Pasquale on prozac. There’s a reason dogs aren’t allowed in.

10. Reason number 2 – The sheer volume capability of these seemingly coy, cute and petite shop keepers is alarming. Nurses are on standby for those inevitable ear bleeding related emergencies.

9. This shouting is supposed to be a way to lure you in to their dens. Japanese shop keepers are probably the most forcefully polite people I have ever met. Anytime anyone walks into their shop a chorus of shop assistants break out into song.

8. But perhaps there is a legitimate need for all this earsplitting shouting. I often have difficulty working out whether or not some places are shops. Shop look like houses, and houses can often look like shops…

7. One shop that isn’t hard to spot is IKEA. Do not fret, dear friends, it’s exactly the same. I do love a good meatball.

6. Despite the excessive number of department stores, the number of convenience stores easily quadruples them.

5. I will say this for the Japanese, they are damn good at queuing…perhaps so good that they’re at risk of stealing Britain’s closely guarded ‘best queue-er’ award.

4. Once at the end of the queue at one of the 3,498,386,112 convenience stores Japan boasts, and having had my lunch put through the till, the assumption game begins. ‘You can use chopsticks?! Are you sure you don’t want a fork instead?’ I’ll show you what I can do with chopsticks, madam.

3. The excellent thing about our local convenience stores, is that the majority of them are open 24/7. Not the case with all other shops. It would seem that shop keepers here enjoy a good lie in and don’t often open until 10 or 11 am. Nice and easy does it.

2. Once in one of these tardy shops, the world of luxury items is your oyster. But the next challenge is trying things on. Once you’ve worked out where the changing rooms actually are, there are a couple of crucials that you must abide to so as not to offend the whole nation. TAKE YOUR SHOES OFF. Ah! OK! I’m sorry! Done. Next, cover your head with a silly looking, slightly see-through, paper bag. The idea is that you protect the clothes from the gallons of makeup you must be wearing. Sorry, but I’m just not going to fall for that one. There’s clearly some sort of reality TV show here that secretly films those foreigners who fall for the trick, put on the silly looking, slightly see-through, paper bag, then fall over whilst trying on a pair of trousers that clearly won’t fit because they have become a giant in the land of tiny people.

1. Finally, after you’ve worked out which is the salt, nursed your ears back to health and fallen over trying on tiny trousers with a bag on your head, it’s time to pay. Don’t even bother trying to pay with your card. It’s a completely cash based society here. So, now it’s completely fine to go around with wads of cash on your person. Feel like a proper gangster now don’t you?

So, there it is, shopping in Japan. What have we learnt? Don’t put that bag on your head…that is unless it’ll protect your ears.

Moisty

An innocent trip to a Pacific Oceanside beach resulted in a sunburn that would scare even the hardiest of souls. So much so that I had to cover my legs on the way home for fear of offending anyone who caught a glimpse of my radiant jambes. Despite the taut and restricting pain of my reddened skin, my suffering was to pay off; I was about to peel… 

19. Everyone loves a good peel. Don’t deny it, you know you do. The more you contest it, the more I know you’re lying. Peeling is one of the singular most satisfying things to do. Let no man deny another the joy of a good peel; t’would be selfish to do so. 

18. Just as with Pringles, once you pop you just cannot stop. Not that popping has much to do with it, but not stopping has everything to do with it. Once you get that smooth clean action going, I challenge any man to be drawn away from it. Even the greatest temptation will be but the smallest speck of dust on the slightly larger speck of insignificant dust that falls on your nose without you even realising. 

17. This hypnotic effect makes you miss your train. Woops. 

16. As you are drawn into the peel, one is reminded of the heady days of school art lessons, when PVA glue became a very satisfying substitute for peeling skin once spread thinly on the hand and left to dry. 

15. Once in the ‘peel zone’ you discover that there are, in fact, many different kinds of peel. Let me fill you in… 

14. The long and thin kind 

13. The wide and expanding kind 

12. The noisy kind 

11. The little and bitty kind 

10. The scaly kind 

9. The double peel: now the others are fairly self-explanatory BUT the double peel is a recent discovery, and I presume only surfaces in those more savage burns. Naturally, this meant double the satisfaction. Pain really is worth it sometimes. 

8. The showering effect: An innocent shower leads to the most promising and satisfying peel. Possibly the best preparation if you have no other plans for the day and are content with sitting in your pants with a bin as your closest companion. 

7. Sitting in your pants = sitting on your own. Peeling is not the most sociable of tasks. Conversation peters out and all you can think is ‘how big can I get this bit to get before it breaks off?’ 

6. Whilst sat on your own, in your pants, peeling yourself, there isn’t much else that can make you feel more pathetic and slightly revolting than you already do…that is, until the thought ‘how gross would it be to lick this…?’ crosses your mind. SAFE TO SAY it was a passing thought, though don’t deny that it’s sped through your mind as well. We’re all a bit revolting really. 

5. I’ve peeled in places I never knew I could. Hello ear. 

4. No matter how much moisturiser or aloe vera you use, the peel is relentless. If it wants to be peeled, it shall be peeled. No way to stop it, so it brace it, dear friend. 

3. Despite having mentioned that peeling is an activity that forces the best of us to our bedroom floor sat in our pants, peeling can also be very successful with a peeling buddy or two. Referring back to point 5 ‘I’ve peeled in places I never knew I could’, sometimes it is crucial to have someone there for those difficult little nooks. Obviously, asking the person sat next to you on the train isn’t the best idea. 

2. As I write this blog, I am still peeling. That means my peeling episode has lasted fourteen whole days. I’m sure that’s Guinness Book of Records worthy. Surely? 

1. Now a note of caution. Peeling is not a public activity. As much as it is hypnotic, fun with others, and everyone secretly loves it, please do not attack a peel in public, however tempting it is. This isn’t just a culture thing, it’s a pretending not a to be a revolting person thing. 

So, I bid you adieu, and happy peeling. Get that PVA out.

China is the heaviest people in Asia

20.  I’m a foreigner, an ethnic minority for the first time. Everyone here is Japanese. Sounds stupid, but it’s true. There are so few foreigners here, and it’s made even more noticeable by the way everyone behaves, including me. Differences between being Japanese and being a foreigner include: talking on the train - just don’t do it; being stared at, and staring yourself – I’ve found many a native openly stare at me, but then again, I stare at them…especially when they fall asleep on the train. I also join in with staring at other foreigners, especially foreigners who aren’t my friends. These folks are so few and far between (and no, that’s not just down to how ridiculously popular I am) so when you do stumble across another ‘gaijin’ I cannot help but stare, smile, and hope for acknowledgement. More often than not my advances are not reciprocated; perhaps my efforts will crumble as I become more and more Japanese. Another crucial difference: I am white. This became obvious after a small trip to the beach.

19.  Driving.  As a driver it has struck me that the Japanese are the slowest, most defensive drivers known to man. Except when they constantly run red lights and hit cyclists. However, even these normally hazardous actions are done so very slowly that even the slowest snail would be able to overtake these ‘naughty’ Japanese drivers.

18.  From driving to cycling. Everyone does it. And everyone breaks the law, but it’s ok, naturally. Illegal cycling includes: cycling on the pavement; parking your bicycle by the ‘do not park your bicycle here’ signs; cycling without wearing a helmet; cycling carrying an umbrella. I happily join in with this legal lawbreaking (especially the one where you carry an umbrella at the same time. I am very clever at doing that now). Everyone’s bike has a basket. You’re not cool if you don’t have one, the bigger the better. Akin to driving, the elderly great grandmother of the slowest snail would zoom past the locals. No one is in a hurry, apparently. I am Flash Gordon, just call me Flash, or Iceman, or Lance.

17.  Style.  All women wear heels. I am still a giant. This is fine, BUT what drives me insane is that all their shoes need re-heeling, to the point where I think they may actually be walking on bare ground. What makes it all the more bizarre are the little lace socks they wear with their shoes. They don’t go. They look silly. As for male fashion, well the waistline is scarily reminiscent of a cross between the 70’s and Simon Cowell.

16.  Sweat.  Embrace it, drip it, wipe it, show it, smell it, wear it, lick it, like it, love it.

15.  Food.  What am I eating? I don’t know. After careful investigation I have discovered that I have tried: liver (raw and cooked), cartilage, raw horse, sea urchin, salmon eggs, sea cucumber, and goo. Some delicious, some wretched and can only come from parts of Satan you’re never supposed to lick. I’ll let you guess/try for yourself.

14.  Etiquette and being on a train.  If the train is brimming with people, yet you think there’s still a chance to push your way on, make sure you attack bum first. After bumming your way onto the train, make sure you are constantly occupied to avoid any awkward social interaction, or interaction of any kind with another human being. SO, go on your phone, or fall asleep. These are the only two options; if you fail to do so you’re clearly foreign. If you happen to choose sleep, then please feel fee to lean on the person next to you, they are a very handy prop and happy to oblige as long as they don’t have to say anything out loud. That would be improper, you see.

13.  Karaoke.  There really is very little to say except, ‘I see a little silhouetto of a man, Scaramouche.’

12.  Mmmm’s and Aaaa’s. Never mind your p’s and q’s in everyday affairs, if you are talking, expect to be accompanied by a chorus of mmm’s, aaa’s and oooh’s. Constant and incessant, it really is a very good way to keep you on edge…more than you already are. Mmmm SHUT UP.

11.  Everything is clean

10.  The Japanese are efficient. If there was a prize for the biggest understatement, this statement would win the BAFTA, Golden Globe, and the Nobel Peace Prize of the understatement world.

9.     Drinks.  You think it’s apple juice. It’s not.

8.     Picture menus  DO NOT mean you’re about to enter slumsville Alabama. In fact, it’s more of a shock if there isn’t a picture menu. Thank god.

7.     I love air conditioning

6.     Mosquitoes love me

5.     Slurping is NOT rude. I repeat, slurping is NOT rude. You’re not going to change my mind that quickly, I’m afraid.

4.    Bowing. The stereotype of constant bowing is completely founded. I have witnessed goodbyes last for several minutes with innumerable bows. I am amazed that there are so few people with whiplash.

3.   Age. The Japanese are either incredibly young, or incredibly old. There is no middle age. This can sometimes cause offence, especially in school. ‘Oh, you’re a teacher.’

2.     Vending machines are anywhere and everywhere. I think they may be a distant relative of the Dalek and are slowly taking the world hostage.

1.     I am now an incredible mime artist.

Now, these are only a select few of the vast array of differences between here in Nihon over there in Blighty, but they do make things fun. It’s just a shame that there isn’t any good cheese…