If I had had a more fine brain, I would be a genius now.

Worryingly, I haven’t touched upon the subject of food!

Well, I think it’s high time to address that issue and get all gourmet, trendy, and super chic and Japanese into the world of noodles, sushi and rice. Before I came here, I thought that I was pretty worldly when it came to knowing about food. Turns out I was entirely wrong. There is so so so much that I haven’t tried, and Japan has given me a kick start into trying some things that I never thought I would even consider eating.

14. Goo. I seem to have eaten a lot of goo. Some nice, some gut wrenchingly disgusting. One particular ‘favourite’ was a dubious blob of grey goo which, when picked up with chopsticks, left a nice stringy sticky trail of yuck still attached to the plate. As delicious as I’m making it sound, funnily enough it was vile. I think grey foods are better left well alone.

13. However, the beautifully vibrantly pink goo was delicious. It turned out to be pickled ginger. Yum in my tum.

12. Pickled ginger led me nicely into talking about the strange array of pickled veggies one is given as a little appetizer as soon as you sit down anywhere. Not being very sure which vegetables I’m actually eating, I always find this little titbit to be incredibly welcome.

11. Everyone knows that sushi and raw fish is a big thing over here. Well, I hadn’t realized quite how much they’re into EVERYTHING raw. I have sampled chicken liver, beef and horse, all raw, all dericious. Unfortunately it wasn’t the same case with the tripe.

10. I feel I need to say a bit more about the fish. I honestly can’t quite express how good it is here. Melt in the mouth tuna (or maguro if you want to sound fancy) mind blowingly soft salmon, and my personal favourite, sumptuous little pearls of scallop. I’m dribbling as I type.

9. The battle between sushi and sashimi. For those of you not in the know, sashimi is just sushi but without the rice. I’ll be honest; I’m batting on the side of sashimi. The rice is good, don’t get me wrong, but I find it clogs the taste of the fish a little, obviously in some cases this is a massive plus point for sushi as what’s placed on top may be far from appetizing.

8. Gyoza. Oh Gyoza how you make my life complete. Little pouches of joy filled with happiness and springtime glee. Fun to make, easy to cook, even easier to eat. You can fill them with anything (I’ve even dabbled in making apple gyoza which went down a treat even if I say so myself) dip them in whichever sauce you feel fit and feel cheery afterwards. They are the best thing ever.

7. Well, actually, I say gyoza are the best thing…I haven’t even started on all the different noodles you can get out here. Ramen, soba, udon, somen. All delicious in their own special way.

6. Ramen. The most readily available over here in Nippon (obviously depending where you go) tasty and satisfying, these noodles can be made with so many different sauces they’ll make you dizzy with choice. However, they are a touch on the greasy/salty side and tend to be eaten by lonely toothless men sitting on their own, or sumo wrestlers.

5. Soba. The more slender of the noodle family, and can be eaten hot or cold. I prefer them hot, as I do with all the noodles actually; eating them cold just feels like you’re eating lots of worms.

4. Somen. AKA Angelhair noodles. Lovely added to miso soup if you want to be filled up a little more but don’t want to worry about the addition to your waistline. A new discovery for me and a very happy one.

3. Udon, my favourite. I know a lot of people are put off by the big thick wormy resemblance of these critters, but all I can say is, don’t be put off. The best udon I’ve had are from a small restaurant called ‘beer delicia’ in Shinjuku (authentic sounding, I know). Covered with a garlic-y, chilli-y, tomato-y sauce, I have well and truly been won over by the fattest of the noodle family. Well done, sir.

2. Things I avoid: pretty much any part of the chicken which isn’t the meat, i.e. skin, cartilage and innards, or giblets. Tripe; AVOID AT ALL COSTS. The weird yellowy/greeny spongy thing which has apparently come from somewhere in the sea. Dried squid; a snack favoured by the old and smelly. Natto; fermented soy beans which look like snot, smell like rotting everything, and have the consistency of those weird gooey alien toys you could buy in an egg. NO THANK YOU.

1. I think the key thing is here is to realize that in every type of cuisine there will always be less tempting delicacies. I don’t know if I’m put off by certain things in Japan simply because I’m a massive softie from Europe, or because they actually are truly disgusting and should never be eaten by any living human being. I like to think that the latter is true. Having said that, I came to Japan slightly slimmer than I am now, and I think that’s a better testament than any to show just how much I do love the food here. Itadakimasu.

He is an easel who write this picture.

I am foreign.

I realize that is one of my more obvious statements, but it needs to be said and there’s no non-stereotypically-racist way of covering it up. I’m white, I have light (ish) brown hair, I have blue eyes, I often look lost.

I am a foreigner.

I am a gaijin.

15. As I said in one of my previous (ever so eloquently written) blogs, everyone here is Japanese. I have become part of the ethnic minority for the first time in my life. With this new status come some perks, and some other things which aren’t so perky.

14. Being a foreigner who speaks English is a bit of an advantage over all those other foreigners who don’t. In Japan, English is taught inprimary school, and continues right up to the nearly ripe old, grown up age of 18. So, the basics are there. HOWEVER, in most cases, they’re actually not. I know this means that I need to pull my finger out and actually crack on with this learning Japanese malarkey, but I doubt that any Japanese lesson is going to teach me how to say, ‘can you help me steal this Japanese baby?’ (I realise that this isn’t a normal phrase found in the Japanese/English curriculum, but they’re just so damn cute.)

13. Before you decide that I am a horrendous human being who just cannot be bothered respectfully to learn the language of the country in which I reside, I have mastered a few essentials. Namely, ‘3 gin and tonics please,’ ‘My name is Rebecca,’ and the most important of all,‘where is the toilet?’ Which I can proudly boast I am able to say in 6 languages (naturally counting American as separate from English.)

12. One thing that comes with notbeingfromJapan is the whole etiquette issue. Manners are totally different here. It took me a long time to stop starting my drink before everyone else had theirs, and I’m nearly there with getting my bow at just the right angle with the perfect amount of longevity in the descent and ascent.

11. If you are at one with the basics of Japanese etiquette, which really is quite a big thing over here by the way, you will find yourself greeted with an acknowledging smile, maybe even a clap here and there, and of course the obligatory round of ‘aaaaaah!’

10. Another way to make you, and your ego, feel pretty darn good is to whap out the little Japanese you do know, specifically at work parties. It has be known for me to only say ‘konnichiwa’ to be applauded and congratulated on how really very excellent my Japanese is. Thank you, I do try, sometimes, not really.

9. Now, there is a down side to everybody thinking that you’re fabulous; I believe it’s known in the medical trade as ‘cockiness.’ It has taken weeks of self-counselling to be able to admit that I have fallen prey to this ‘cockiness.’ One, two, three, or maybe even nine gin and tonics down the line and I become Lebecca Losu; teacher, and all knowing master of Japanese, sometimes even venturing to correct those who do actually, in sober reality speak Japanese, pretty fluently really, because they are in fact…Japanese.

8. Being stared at on the train is something I’ve worryingly started to get used to. Normally the owner of the stare is between the age of 0 –11 and adorable. However when the owner of said stare is a quite smelly, 50 something, sitting too close to you old man, adorable doesn’t seem to be quite the right adjective to use…

7. However, I’ve come up with a battle plan for all those unwanted stares. Simply put, I pull a funny face back. More often than not this does the trick, as most Japanese people will realise that they’ve possibly been staring at someone who’s just been released from some kind of institute, and therefore shouldn’t try to startle the mental foreigner lest anything upsetting should occur.

6. When I’m feeling a little less like an escapee from Dr. Ivegotamassiveneedle’s asylum, I welcome the incredibly kind folk, who usually have flawless English, as they come up to me in train stations when I’ve got my ‘I’m lost!’ face on, to then guide me through the tangled cobweb that is the Japanese railway system. Arigatou gozaimasu.

5. It has been known for the one being stared at to change roles and become the staree. I have fallen into this trap. The problem occurs when you spot a fellow foreigner in the distance, in the same shop, or sitting in the same train carriage. I have stared, and done so unashamedly…let me tell you why;

4. As I mentioned before Japan is very Japanese, therefore we foreigners are relatively few and far between, especially the more rural you go. So, when do you do spy someone who doesn’t quite look like they fit in properly, the immediate reaction is to stare, work out if you know them, guess what job they do, and where they’re from. Naturally the problem with this is that one can start to stare for a tad longer than is perceived reasonable and polite, that when they turn to meet your gaze, all you can do is feign familiarity; nod, smile, and wave that weird little wave you thought only the queen did. The mix of feelings after such an encounter usually consists of awkwardness,embarrassment, camaraderie and stupidity. Ah well, we’ve all been there and done the ‘I’m waving at you but have now realised that I completely don’t know who you are so I will continue waving as though I know the person behind you,’ wave. Admit it.

3. Work brings its own special little highlights for the token non-native. At work parties (held fairly regularly throughout the year) I have been asked to perform When the saints go marching in wearing a multicoloured afro wig, sing Amazing Grace, and also sing the school song, solo, in Japanese, at a pitch suitable for an 11 year old eunuch. Obviously, I have always stepped up to these challenges.

2. At times, I have to admit that there are those rare occasions when my fuse gets rather short and the language barrier becomes one that neither party is able to penetrate. When such occasions arise, I have simply had to mumble the niceties I’ve now got down to a T, walk out of whichever establishment I’m in, and go and buy myself some chocolate from a vending machine that won’t speak to me. Sugared and prepped, I’m ready once more to be a nice person.

1. The most important point I much stress about being a slightly longer than temporary visitor here, is that I have never encountered such kindness and thoughtfulness from such a large group of people before. Japan is a place where politeness and respect are paramount. Any problems I have, or any silly little questions I need answering, are solved and answered as quickly as possible. Yes, there are times when things are off putting or frustrating, but I really do feel incredibly welcome and as though I’ve made some friends for life. Now, let’s just find me a husband.