NH-Wha?

Spurred on by Libby's question on "What is the NHK?" I give you another edition of..."Maria in Japan."

This week's episode: "Battle with the NHK Lady!"

Dum, dum, dum.

***

Maria is in her apartment, puttering about one evening when she hears a knock on the door. Owner of hand that knocks on door does not announce him/herself.

Maria slowly creeps to door. Well it's more like two paces; this IS Japan, land of the tiny!

She looks at peephole.

Strange person in a suit.

Dum, dum, dum!

Tune in next week for what she does! (Hint: you guys already know.)

***

As several of you noted, it might be the NHK lady. Or person. They come to collect the fees that no one pays.

What fees? NH-Wha?

NHK is like the BBC. In fact, according to Wikipedia, NHK modeled itself on the BBC. I was able to make that connection pretty quickly since I lived in London, and remember the tv ads and bus ads and posters plastered everywhere warning people who don't pay the BBC fees. It's state-run television, to some extent (hmm, that sounds very Cold War Soviet Union). So in Japan, you have a lot of variety shows and samurai dramas and such.

Regardless, Japanese tv does suck. I only watched it extensively during Golden Week at Mayuko's condo in Shirahama and only enjoyed the commercials.

Japan does have a law stipulating that people pay certain fees. But they don't enforce it! Hence the NHK lady and attempts at freaking me out.

On the outside of the apartment doors in my building are the stickers with numbers for the gas and electric, and a sticker that says "NHK." I knew about the fees when I was checking out my apartment and asked my landlord about them. He actually started to laugh. No one pays the NHK fees. Just like no one pays the BBC fees. But in England you get screwed over more.

Security Check

Warning: I'm a bit snappy.

You know, they always say that Japan is safe. It sure is to be quite honest; I mean, there have been nights here where I ride my bike back up from downtown at 1, 2 in the morning by myself. No homeless people (they are all under the bridges at the Kamo River, but they don't bother you) no wierdos. I am too busy flying on my bike to garner any attention. Also, there are still people around; the Kamo River/Kawabata-Dori is one of the major North-South arteries of Kyoto.

But still. Except for the fancy manshons (apartment buildings), most apartment buildings in general don't have any security. The main door to my building is never locked; in fact, most buildings don't even have a front door. The only door that you have is the one to your apartment. Anyone can come in.

That has made me a bit uneasy, but I guess I considered myself lucky.

Until about 5 minutes ago.

I was doing my own thing, listening to The Cat Empire when I heard a knock on my door. I muted my music and checked first if my door was locked, then through the peephole. There was a Japanese woman, of middle age in a suit, sort of.

:::Knock knock:::

I KNEW that she knew that someone was inside because obviously I had my music on and I turned it off. But I didn't open the door. She just kept knocking and even looked at my peephole, as if she was willing to see who was on the other side of the door. I am not opening that door! She said not one word. Just knocked. Then she turned to my neighbor (who I think is a bit of a wierdo, he talks in this wailing voice which sorta creeps me out) and knocked.

That's when I knew I wasn't being targeted specifically, but just going around. Then I heard her knock on other doors but not even my neighbor opened his door. And this wasn't the first time this has happened either!

Call me paranoid, but I really don't like it how people can walk into my building without prior notification, or that the front door isn't locked. It just makes the stereotype of "Japan is safe" even worse. Sure, naysayers can say that it's true but better to be safe than sorry. Things still happen here. This place is not paradise.

I am not knocking Japan (pun not intended) - I like it here a lot. But there are just some things that tick me off, which I think is natural. And when it comes to strange people knocking on my door and not even saying a WORD, then we got issues here.

I'm off to the combini. Comfort chocolate is in order.

Trick or Treat!

Yesterday was Halloween, but I celebrated in on Saturday, the 27th. In the morning, I to Osaka since it was a good opportunity to hang out with Emi in her neck of the woods. We usually hang in Kyoto, but I want to go to Osaka more. Plan was lunch, then shop. Shopping will become VERY crucial as you will see.

First, I had an appointment in a section of Osaka known as "Universal City." Where Universal Studios Japan is located. Seriously, the minute I walked out of the JR Station (where I rode a train festooned with Spiderman) I felt like I just got off the monorail to the Magic Kingdom. And I KNOW the Magic Kingdom.

I felt so odd, so out of place. It was noisy and well...AMERICAN. It was Orlando, with Japanese subtitles. And instead of some tacky old-school Florida museum, we have the Takoyaki Musuem. The Grilled Octopus Museum. And since this IS Japan, there is a mascot whom I call Mr. Takoyaki and he is bloody cute. (P.S. takoyaki is delish. It's a Kansai thing, so you can't find it in Tokyo, as far as I know).

After leaving Orlando - erm, I mean Universal City, Osaka - I met up with Emi at the Shinsaibashi Apple store. I got there a bit early, so I fondled the new Nano's, which I haven't had the change to ogle properly yet. Lunch at a Mexican restuarant which was amazing, and then shopping at Uniqlo. While we were in the NOISY shopping arcade (I wanted to cover my ears), Emi and I passed by a Sanrio store. Scary, but cute. There was this HUGE Hello Kitty doll.

Apologizing to Emi for making her take this picture, I stood next to Kitty-chan and grinned.

Uniqlo is in NYC now and I actually didn't check it out when I was back home. However, if it's like how it is here - GO,GO,GO my fellow New Yorkers!!! Where else can you get quality pima cotton long sleeves to TEN DOLLARS? Their cashmere is quite nice too. And $20 merino sweaters in amazing jewel tones. I got 4 shirts and a straw Ralph Lauren/J.Crew-ish belt for just 500yen. That is less than 5 bucks.

I had to leave early to get ready for the Halloween party. I get back, realize I don't have much time to get dressed and proceeded to put on my Zara dress. Then I notice something: a small tear in the bust of the dress. I got SO mad and actually sad aloud, "*&$%#@ this!" Took the dress off (thank god the tag was still on, I never take tags off till I actually wear it), tossed it in the corner and looked in my cupboard. I needed to think of a costume. And FAST.

Lo and behold, thank god I dress preppy. And that I went shopping at Uniqlo. And got my vintage Chloe purse. And got a gold headband with a bow. And have (fake) pearls. And red lipstick.

I went as "French Riviera Chick from the 50's." Smoky eyeshadow and red lipstick, and ready to go! Uniqlo proved VERY important because all I had to do was look at the belt I got and the lightbulb turned on in my head. Below, is me strutting my stuff in our party's "Kyoto's Next Halloween Top Model Contest", looking my chic-y best:

Some of the girls complemented on my outfit, said I should dress more like this and that I embodied the whole French Riviera thing. Well, at least not too cartoonish, maybe. Secret: that "pin" is actually an earring that I stole from my mom - I saw it in her jewelry box poring over her 80s costume jewelry that is now "in," saw it and thought it would make a great pin.

I now have confidence to tuck in my shirt in that particular skirt - there is a bow that ties in the back and you sort of tuck your shirt in but I never do because I feel a bit self-conscious about the lower half of me.

Nonetheless the party was a blast. We all said it was better than going to a club - lot cheaper, no one smokes and we invite who we wanted to so no skeevy people either. Plus, no cover charge. We were all sore for the next two days because we were dancing so much. And we all plan to do it again - NO ONE complained about the music, and we had it quite loud.

Alas, I didn't win the contest. Wolverine did. His claws were out.

Damn Straight!

A couple of months ago, this fancy designer created these bags that said "I am Not a Plastic Bag" for Whole Foods (they were sold at Sainsbury's in the UK - don't ask how I know that). I saw them featured online in the blogs and sorta wished that I could get my hands on one of them - but I was still in Japan in July and not that crazy.

Instead, I got this from the UFO Catcher in the arcade, which I had learned about thanks to a girl I know who got the same one (but mine is in a different color, and I know copying is bad but I told her I really liked it a lot, so I warned her to begin with). What is cool about it is that it's in Japanese, so this makes it way better than the Whole Foods one. Plus, as I pointed out to my friend, we actually understand what it says.

The kanji read: "Watashi wa biniiru-bukuro ja nai!!!"

"I am NOT a plastic bag!!!"

Damn straight.

Tales of the Japanese Toilets and the Tissue Packets that Love Them

When I first got to Japan, I would always get little packets of tissue paper as advertisements. You can find these everywhere - in front of the school cafeteria, on a busy street corner, downtown etc. I would get these in twos and threes and hold on to them - the packets were tiny, they were free and good if I needed a tissue.

I was always somewhat confunded by the "Why tissues?" question. Usually at school, they give out plastic folders as part of the advertisements - well that's easy to understand. Students need folders. I think I have only bought myself one here and that was a large one to hold most of my files. Otherwise, I use the free ones, to carry around the papers I just need for the moment.

In the summer, they advertise on fans - tradition I think carried over from the Edo period. Besides, everyone and their mother (myself included) uses a fan in the summer. It is STILL like 90 degrees out, and it won't get colder till about oh, mid-October. Last year, I was still just wearing a cardigan or a light jacket by the end of November. I want to wear my riding boots, dangit!

But why tissues? Hmm...well it is actually considered quite rude to blow your nose in public. So that's not it.

Yesterday in class, Prof. S. was using the wireless to show the students a faulty problem on an entry about Kyoto in Wikipedia. He opens up his bookmarks and one of them was labeled "Wiki-Japanese Toilet." EVERYONE started laughing and Prof. S. turns around, nonplussed and says, "The 'Japanese Toilet' article is the best article written in Wikipedia."

I have already mentioned my love for the Japanese toilet - the fancy one with all the buttons that is. The ones that cost over $1000 in the States precisely because of all the buttons and the bells and the whistles. Let me tell you, you use a Japanese Washlet, and you never want to use that old button-less toilet again (I very much missed them last August). I avoid the squat version at all costs. However, if the situation is dire then I will use it. So long as it is somewhat clean. I have seen worse versions in Greece, in the tiny mountain villages. But if I have a choice, then I choose the Washlet.

The reason why they give out tissues as advertisements is, according to Wikipedia, that most of the public toilets in the train stations and such do not have toilet paper. When I read this, I was like, "Eureka!"

When I went to Nara I had find a bathroom ASAP. I go to the one in the station which was the closest and there was no toilet paper.

%*$&^.

Luckily I had 200yen on me and bought my tissue packets.

I really need to hoard more free tissue packets - just in case.

Of People Watching and Red-Light Districts

Unfortunately, Kukhee couldn’t make it for the dinner that she, Jessica and I planned to have due to a cold. She missed out!

I got to Shinjuku a bit early because I wanted to check out Yodobashi Camera for the electronic dictionaries. I am pissed – the English focused ones have the crappy koku-go (Japanese-Japanese, think the Japanese version of the Oxford English dictionary) dictionary. I might just get the model that Prof. S. had – it may be old but it had Oxford, the good Koku-go dictionary and it’s cheap, so I can pimp it out with all the add on dictionaries.

After my futile trip to Yodobashi Camera, I still had about an hour; so I wandered around Studio Alta for a bit. Studio Alta is like OPA– big shopping mall designated for young women with a load of worthless crap. I did get a nice dark green beaded necklace, however; “normal” things are hard to find on a regular basis. Then I sat down outside JR Shinjuku station and people-watched for about 45 minutes.

Ah, people watching. Great thing to do when you are in a strange city; you really get a sense of the culture. Mind you, I am speaking with a slightly sarcastic and caustic tone here – the people watching in Shinjuku was ESPECIALLY interesting, mostly because my internal reaction mainly consisted of me saying “WTF?!?!” a lot, hence the sarcastic and caustic tone. First you had the homeless people that stole cigarette butts off the ground next to you and screaming at everyone else. Eh, fine that is something I see back home.

What you DEFINITELY do not see in NYC is this:

1) Japanese girls with orange skin + orange makeup and orange hair. And that is not ganguro (link on ganguro) – its just overly tan to the point of leather. Much worse than back in the States. Or girls with 4-inch heels and 2-inch shorts.
2) Japanese men with Louis Vuitton WOMEN’S HANDBAGS. Especially the Speedy style. Seriously, WTF?!?!?! I even saw a guy with the Hermes mini Grace Kelly bag. That guy is making a woman wait for 6 months on a Hermes waiting list, now that is just WRONG!
3) Said Japanese men actually accosting young women. I saw this in Kyoto as well (link to previous post); but here, I counted maybe 15 guys just loitering around the exit of JR Shinjuku, waiting for young women so that they can try to get them to the hostess bars or work at hostess bars. And later I realized why: Kabuki-cho, the red light district in Tokyo, was across the street from JR Shinjuku. The girls fell into one of several categories – very skinny, tan, sky-high heels, crazy orange hair and that particular Japanese style. Even “normal” looking girls were accosted, even right to the corner of the street. I estimated the distance from the exit to the street at about 10-20 meters. Maybe 30-60 seconds of hearing some asshole shorter and skinner than you trying to get you to a hostess bar. And they are bloody persistent!

I had dinner with Jessica and some of her friends – including her research assistant, Kazu – at this izakaya that actually ripped us off. Live and learn; I had this sinking feeling earlier that there wasn’t going to be much food at dinner so I just munched all day, hence the Mochi Cream from earlier.

We all wanted to do puri-kura, or the photo stickers after dinner. We actually ended up in Kabuki-cho; in spite of it being the red light district so long as you are not a pretty Japanese girl it’s fine. It’s just a lot of hostess bars, Karaoke and pachinko or game parlors.

What we all didn’t expect to end up doing was wait with a bunch of obaa-sans for this Japanese celebrity that is overly airbrushed in his promo photos to the point of looking like Johnny Depp as Willy Wonka. Creepy.
We passed by a LONG line of middle-aged women and we all pressed on Kazu to ask them why they were waiting. Said Japanese celebrity is Enka singer “Kiyoshi” – Enka is a form of cheesy old-school Japanese music that is popular back in the 50s, according to Jessica. The obaasans gave us flyers with his face plastered over them; when the 5 of us started goofing off with the flyers, the obaa-sans joined in and asked us to take photos of us with them and the Kiyoshi flyers. Some of the women were holding these wands that light up – I actually went up to one women who had two (red and blue with a star and a heart) and asked her, “Those wands are so adorable, is it ok if I borrow them quickly and take a picture?” The woman – and all the others – were actually really happy that gaijin were interested in Kiyoshi; frankly, it was just all good fun. Out of the 5 of us, Jessica, Jay and I were the foreigners (Kazu brought her fried Yuki and Jay along) but Jay is Chinese so Jessica and I looked the most “foreign.”

While we were waiting, I took in the sights that was Kabuki-Cho: right across the street from us, there was a blinking billboard that advertised services by women for men. In fact earlier, I saw one of those places as well with a sign on the door that said in very big English letters, “Japanese ONLY!” I had heard of these signs before, but to finally see one was really interesting. Because of the shadiness that is Kabuki-Cho, Shinjuku has some problems with foreigners; good to know I learned something useful at the conference.

Being really “foreign-looking” sure had its payoff that evening! We were waiting and waiting and at one point I had to go to the bathroom; Yuki, Kazu and I ran to the closest pachinko parlor to use the bathroom. Luckily Kiyoshi hadn’t driven by yet. We all decided to wait till about 9:30; lo and behold, at 9:30 on the dot, a relative roar began to reach us. Kiyoshi had arrived!

There was security and middle aged men telling us to not take pictures with our cameras, Kiyoshi’s car was passing right by us. The window was just almost rolled all the way up when I saw him – he was carrying one of those wand things, except his was purple. Then for a fleeting moment our eyes met and he did the biggest double-take in the world – like “OMG, she is a FORIEGNER!” I wasn’t the only one that saw this; Jessica solidly confirmed that she got the same reaction when he saw her.

Knock, Knock. "Sumimasen!" Knock, Knock.

It is now 10:15pm, Japan time, and I am typing this blog while trying to not make as much noise as possible. Why?

There is this man walking around my building, knocking on doors and saying, "Sumimasen! :::knock knock::: Sumimasen!" (It means "Excuse me").

I have have people come and knock on my doors. Except for the apartment buildings that are right proper "manshons" and have some sort of security, most studio apartment buildings like mine in quite, safe residential neighborhoods have their front doors open (or not even front doors at all, most just have the apartment open to the outside directly. I am lucky in that respect). Only really new ones have high-tech security, but even remodeled one's (like Chen's - beautiful!) don't have security. The only security that I have is the lock to my door and the chain lock thing.

The previous two times that people knocked on my door, it was in the middle of the day and it was just for newspapers. Quite harmless, but now I know better to not respond because frankly I don't want to deal with solicitors. People solicit here. And it's totally legal. And I don't know if the person is the occasional freak, either.

So I am getting ready for bed and I hear the knocking. I thought maybe it was at the apartment building next door, since I have been hearing it for quite awhile and just brushed it off thinking, "I wonder what the hell this guy is thinking or wanting, knocking on doors at 10 o'clock at night." I glanced at my door, making sure that it was locked and the chain was on. It was. No problem, just a cursory glance and minor check before I go to bed.

Knock, knock.

"Sumimasen!"

I literally froze and all the alarm bells began to ring in my head - "WTF does he want? I am NOT going to answer that door no matter what, go away, what are you thinking knocking on doors in the middle of the night!" You just never really know these days, even though Japan is quite harmless. I still get suspicious at times (New Yorkers usually tend to be wary or so the stereotype goes, I just always try to watch my back and my surroundings like everyone else does, New Yorker or no).

During my first month in London I was practically terrified, but that was due to many other things as well, chiefly relating to the fact that I was alone, in a country and a city unfamiliar to me, and I was living away for the first time. By now, Kyoto is pretty familiar to me, and I am totally fine with living away, but the former fact is still very present. Like I mentioned to a male classmate of mine who stayed in a train station overnight because there were no hotels in Tokyo during Golden week, "It's harder for the girls" and he agreed. I was a little nervous during my first month or so in Japan, but like London I adapted and got accustomed to the surroundings. But still, I am alone and you do not know what will be on the other side of the door.

Knock, knock.

"Sumimasen!"

Knock, knock.

Silence. Then footsteps. My pounding heart slowed down. I may have overreacted but it was a reflex. I putter about quietly, then change the garbage bag in my bathroom since tomorrow (Thursday) is garbage day. As the bag rustles while I place it in the trash can -

Knock, knock.

"Sumimasen!"

Knock, Knock.

HELL NO I am not going to answer that door, even if the man on the other side thinks that someone is definitely in here. Not even if you paid me.

Why the heck would someone go knocking on doors of apartment buildings at 10 o'clock at night? I'll never know, but I never want to know either.

Not a Strand of Orange Hair to be Found.

"Manly men" are a rarity in Japan. You know the sort, like Jeffrey Dean Morgan - buff, broad shouldered and muscular, but not in an Ah-nold sort of way. Just Jeffrey Dean Morgan (yeah, you know he was hot in that episode when Meredith was dead with the puppy dog look on his face). Or even the tall, lean and muscular types.

Instead of broad shoulders, you usually see skinny little twigs that look like I can break them in half. And I am a weakling. Or, you get blah "sarari-men" in their suits. Eh. Or, the most popular of all are the peacocks. Male peacocks are rather showy sort of bird - they pull out all the stops to get attention and show off all their plumage. Well, the male Japanese peacock has orange hair, orange skin, too much gel, maybe plucked brows, ripped jeans, strange t-shirts, the man purse hanging off the belt, chuncky chains, pointy shoes made out of "interesting" leather, and on and on and on. Seriously. Their girl counterparts are just as bad. And just like normal peacocks, they stick out.

My new friend Emi doesn't like these sorts of guys - the peacocks and the twigs. She likes "manly men" (many of which I think she had the opportunity to see back when she was in Cali studying abroad). This begs the question: in what sense can you find "manly men" in Japan?

The college rugby team. Or any sort of hardcore sport - American football (yes, they actually have "Ame-futo"), soccer, etc. etc. Even the traditional Japanese sports like kendo. But this Sunday it was rugby. When we first met, she told me about the game between her school (Kyoto Sangyo, aka Kyosan) and Doshisha Uni - well 2 of Doshisha Uni's rugby players were arrested in an abduction attempt, so the team was changed to Ryugoku Uni. It was the 36th Annual Kyoto Rugby Festival, with a match at the elementary, junior high, high school and college level.

Prior to that, I got my parasol. And thank got I got it that day because it was damn hot. So, the teams walk out in single file, each guy holding a little kids hand also in rugby uniform. I have seen this at professional rugby matches - the little kids with the players - on tv or on YouTube and I always wondered whats up with the little kids and rugby players. No matter, little kids are cute.

I know two facts about rugby: the scrum and a try. A "try" is the equivalent of "GOOOOOOOAAAAAALLLLL" (to imitate the famous South American sportscaster) in soccer. The scrum is when the two teams sort of gang up on one anther, the ball is tossed in underneath and then the free-for-all for the ball begins. Mel explained it to me - he used to play rugby back when he was in PNG/Australia. And has a scar on his forehead from a rugby cleat to prove it. "It" being that rugby is downright dangerous, especially since the only sort of protection that the players wear is the standard stuff, the very sturdy rugby jersey (I love them, I want one in my size for myself) and tight shorts that they wear under their short-shorts. But like I was chatting with Emi's friend about "manly man" scars have character. Buff. And tough. Manly men. And not a strand of orange hair to be found. Thank god, no peacocks at least for 80 minutes.

Before the match began, the players on the two teams tossed rugby balls with their signatures into the stands. I protected myself with my parasol, but if I had known what they were going to do, I would have certainly tried to catch one, since one fell less than three feet away from me. Oh well.

The results? Kyoto Sangyo Daigaku kicked Ryugoku Daigaku's bum: 77 to 23. And a very enjoyable first rugby match; I told my classmate who is Australian that I went to a rugby match yesterday and he practically jumped for joy.

Oh, The Japanese Appliances You'll Use

Anyone who has studied Japan or Japanese for an extended period of time knows of one sure thing:

they have very interesting appliances.

Take the toilet. Or rather, the toilet seat. They are either called "washlets" or "warmlets" and for good reason: a warmlet is a heated toilet seat. A washlet, well to put it bluntly, is a toilet seat that sprays or jets heated water to clean your bum. And has a heated toilet seat. It's a toilet seat on steroids.

While a warmlet only has either maybe one button (the switch to turn the heat on or off) or none, the washlet has an array of buttons on a control panel along the side of the seat. The only washlets that I have come across on a regular basis are the ones at school - the newer the building, the newer and nicer the bathrooms and the more chances of me coming across a washlet (in addition to the evil and ubiquitous Asian squat toilet). There are even buttons that control the water pressure. At first, I could not make heads or tails of all the buttons but lets just say now is that I want a washlet for my future house.

Toto (think Kohler in the States as a brand for plumbing stuff) actually has a showroom in NYC now but compared to the Japanese prices of washlet, they are pretty expensive; not so many people use them, though there is an increasing demand. Hideki Matsui requested that he have one installed in his apartment in the Trump Tower by the UN.

It's a complicated setup. You need to have an electrical outlet near the toilet so you can actually plug the toilet seat in - it sounds totally absurd, but these toilet seats actually have miniature computers in them. Its like having a butler for your bum: "Would you like the water warmer? How is the water pressure, mum?" Then you have to connect the toilet seat to a water source. So electricity + water + bum makes for a precarious setup unless you have people who know what they are doing, can lead to some interesting occurrences during installation. I wonder how well equipped Toto's lawyers are for sue-happy Americans.

My opinion is that the more buttons, bells and whistle a Japanese appliance has the better it is. It's not like the States where the more buttons you have the more complicated it is. That is very much not the case here. Take my next Japanese appliance: the unassuming rice cooker.

You can get a $30 rice cooker or even cook rice in a pot. But the Japanese take it up a notch and as Emeril Lagasse says, "BAM!" I myself have a very simple rice cooker that I actually got for free (it's pretty old but I got it for free and it makes my rice); Colleen has a newer one with several buttons and settings. One is "O-kayu" which makes Japanese rice porridge, which is aptly called "O-kayu" as well. It is their version of chicken noodle soup for when you are sick.

Then you have the regular ol' "make rice" button. And I think two or three more other ones that I didn't really pay attention to. But here is where it gets REALLY nifty: there is also a button labeled "Keki" in katakana. In Japanese (and in bastardized Greek-English, and for this I highly find amusing), "keki" means "cake." So not only do you have a rice cooker to make rice, you have a rice cooker to make cake. As such, Colleen has make banana bread in her rice cooker. We plan to go to Meidi-Ya (the foreign food store) to get Sara Lee brownie mix and try to make brownies in a rice cooker. Only in Japan kids, only in Japan.

Which leads to the question: why have a rice cooker than can make cake? Well the answer I think is pretty simple: due to the lack of space, (small houses = small kitchens), the nature of Japanese cuisine and the fact that Japan is earthquake prone, full-on ovens are not that popular or that common (they do exist here, however just not in a typical Japanese house). There are mostly stove top burner sets with a small grill in between the two burners (imagine a rectangular box with two burners then inside the box a grill). I myself just have one electric burner, but I got a small grill that I use as an oven which is electric. Some of these burner-boxes are electric and some are gas; if it's gas you hook it up to the pipeline, but when you are not using the burner-box there is a switch to totally turn of the gas. I have that for my hot water; it's all because of the earthquakes.

So I have seen many takes on the Japanese appliances. My friend Alisa has a microwave oven that can make brownies, grill fish and toast bread. I was going to get the same microwave, but opted for the smaller and cheaper grill. Her microwave is the classic case of having a million buttons, yet you actually use every single one of them.

But I think the one that tops them all for the moment is the one I least expected: the blackboard eraser cleaner. Yesterday, during my graduate seminar, my sensei was writing on the board - using chalk and an eraser of course. (The only whiteboards that I seen are portable ones). All of a sudden, he pulls out a small shelf under the chalkboard that contains a yellow and green box. I never really noticed it before, but what I have noticed is that all the blackboards at Rits have a small drawer underneath the ledge for the chalk that holds more chalk.

To the green and yellow box. It was plastic and had a plug that led to a socket right underneath the chalkboard. But what got me was the NOISE that emanated from it: like a loud vacuum cleaner. I was sitting in the back, and totally surprised to see my sensei running the eraser across the top of this screaming box and voiced a very audible "Eeeh? Nan desu ka?!?" ("Huh? What is that!?!") The Japanese kids started to chuckle - there are three foreign kids in my class but they are Mongolian and Korean so I am the most visible "foreigner" - and explained to me that that is a machine that cleans the blackboard erasers by vacuuming all the chalk dust out, so that way you don't have to clap the erasers to clean them (or scrape them along the edge of the chalk holder ledge). I asked the Mongolian girl near me if she has seen that and she said it was her first time as well. Even my sensei was chuckling at my surprised reaction; I literally jumped in my chair from the noise because I wasn't expecting that. (I am assuming, since from my own experience Korea is pretty similar to Japan, that Korea might have these things as well.)

Now THAT is a nifty appliance. Even better, there weren't millions of buttons, but I'll bet that one day the upgraded model will have a button to control the volume of the vacuum, the speed of the vacuum, maybe squirt out some cleaner...

G`Day! I Mean...Irasshaimase!

Japanese Lesson #16 (Hisashiburi!):

1) Hisashiburi: Long time no see
2) Sento: Public bath
3) O-furo: Bath
4) Onsen: Hot spring
5) Irasshaimase! - Welcome!
6) Arubaito: Part-time job

The Japanese like their baths. Unlike Americans, who mostly take showers in the morning, the Japanese take baths at night. The scrub first, then soak in a steaming hot bath for like 20 minutes. Sometimes the family gets in all together, or friends go chill out in the sento for the evening which every neighborhood has. I have seen the entrance to the sento in my `hood. I am usually oblivious of my surroundings, but when I realized that there was a sento in my `hood, I knew that I was becoming more aware of what was around me, which means I can read the signs on the doors. All in all a pretty good thing.

Personally, I am not down for the sento and bathing with other people, especially the neighbors. It`s a culture thing - some people are used to it, but it is one of the things in Japan that I put my foot down on. I will try natto, I will eat whatever is put in front of me, I will willingly sleep on the floor on a thin mattress. But do not expect me to go to the sento. At least for now. I still would like to go to an onsen, because usuallly you can wear your bathing suit to the outdoor ones.

When I was in Shirahama, Mayuko`s parent`s apartment building had female, male and family o-furo; no one took their bath in their apartments, apparently. Luckily for me, the family o-furo had a lock since it was designated for families and I never set foot in the female bath because I was self-conscious. But let me tell you, that nice steaming hot o-furo was NICE. I want a bath like that in my house, but I prefer bubble baths.

The point is, imagine yourself as a regular ol`Japanese person and you are ready to go to the sento for your evening bath. I dished out all the sento/onsen/o-furo stuff for some context. You go and part the curtains right outside the door and hear the usual `Irasshaimase!` (One day I should make a tally of how many times I hear that in one shopping trip, it is so ubiquitous).

But something is off. The accent on the `Irasshaimase!` is vaguely...Australian.

I just found out today that Campbell, my Australian classmate, just got an arubaito working at the local SENTO. He is the person greeting the people as they come in for their baths. It is so odd because the sento is one of the most `typical` and `Japanese` thing in Japan and a foriegner would never even consider getting a job there. Well, he was at a bar chatting with a guy and the guy offered him a job. So imagine an Australian saying `Irasshaimase!` with the upmost Japanese gusto. I can only imagine the looks on some of the people`s faces when they go into the sento - I told Campbell this and he laughed because this is so odd and hilarious because it is totally unexpected on all counts and in all respects. I requested that he regale me with some of his tales, so that I can put them here because I will bet you my last yen that it is going to be funny. I will find out how his first day (today) was tomorrow.

Selfish Noodles

In class a few weeks ago, we were going over some words in our tango ("word", not to be confused with "dango" the mochi on a stick of 3 mochi balls flavored with egg, matcha and anko), and our teacher wrote a word on the board:

"wagamama."

One of my classmates, Campbell alongside myself burst out laughing. Campbell is from Sydney, and our teacher turned to us and asked why we were cracking up.

Campbell said that there is a noodle restaurant chain in Australia called "Wagamama" and I concurred - in London there was a shopping center near my dorm in the Angel part of Islington/King's Cross and there was a "Wagamama" branch. It was extremely overpriced and very crowded, so my friends and I always went for the Chinese buffet next door.

"Wagamama" means selfish. So any Japanese person or Japanese speaker who sees a Wagamama restaurant has very good cause to laugh.

No wonder their prices are so expensive - it's all in the name.

Silence is Bliss

Some things need to be clarified. I had mentioned that the elections for the House of Councilors are happening this summer, and that the megaphone trucks are blaring up the wazoo.

Well, they weren't blaring for the elections in July. They were blaring for the local elections that were going on everywhere in Japan. And THANK GOD that they were not going crazy for the July elections - I would have no peace. Four more months of overly caffeinated white gloved candidates and their minions yelling into megaphones? I was practically ready to tear my hear out with the past week of "campaigning" that I and everyone else had to hear.

Over the course of the past few days, electioneering (if that is a word) was pushed into overdrive. No matter where you went in Kyoto you would hear some lady's overly-chirpy voice or a man's deep, gruff old-school voice (think old samurai movies) squawking into a megaphone contraption the size of a car's roof that was attached to the top of said car which was very tiny (as is everything else here in Japan) that made it look like Bozo the Clown's vehicle. Don't get me started if two cars from opposing parties or opposing politicians crossed paths; they would stop, and a contest of who could yell out the candidates name plus "yoroshiku onegaishimasu" louder ensued.

In the beginning it was quite funny - one of the quirks of the Japanese election process. I thought it was comical how people conducted themselves with so much gusto and zeal that anyone could see at almost any time of day, and that you didn't have to pay $2000 a plate at a fundraiser to see a candidate, or that you didn't need to fall upon a scheduled meet-and-greet to see said candidate.

But over the past few days, it was getting to the point of noise pollution. The cars would drive through the narrow and twisting streets of quiet neighborhoods, disturbing the peace and waking me up from my afternoon nap; I could hear them CLEARLY in spite of the fact that my apartment is in the back of the building and situated away from the street. If one complained or yells out "urusai" ("Noisy!" - in a bad way) he or she can actually get arrested for election obstruction.

So you can imagine my delight this evening when I realized something: I had not heard or seen any of those stupid cars and their overly-peppy white gloved occupants.

Oh, silence is bliss.

Surrounded by Ostriches

I HATE the Japanese bureaucracy. ANY form of it. If it's an office in Japan I am biased against it. Period.

According to one of the International Student directors at Ritsumeikan, it is a "little difficult" for me to take Japanese classes.

WHO IS TO SAY THAT IT IS DIFFICULT FOR ME to take Japanese classes, when I WANT to take them?

I saw red when he told me that. I kept my composure, and told him that I understand that it is difficult and it would be a challenge, but I don't mind a challenge. Furthermore, I would be taking only two regular classes that meet once a week and I DO NOT MIND that the Japanese classes meet 5 times a week - all the better, really!

I know why there is such a problem. I am asking for something that is outside of the box - the Japanese language classes are part of a particular program, and all I am asking is to just sit in, partake in the lessons and do the homework. BUT - because I am not officially in the program, I cannot cross-register. Colleen has the same problem over at Kyodai when it deals with something outside of her department. If it is outside the collective umbrella of a particular place, or disrupts the "wa" of the place that you are in already, it seems that Japanese people just push you off to the next person, or act like ostriches and stick their heads in the sand..."La, la, la, chotto matte, muzukashii kedo..."

I

DO

NOT

CARE

if it is "a little difficult." Bring it on! I need a challenge. I even told the director that other Monbusho students at Rits have told me that they took courses with the SKP program - that got his attention. I also told him that it is necessary for my research that I continue Japanese classes. So, I gave him the information on the classes that I took to the best of my memory - main one being the basic textbook that I used last semester, that I passed JLPT level 3 and I want to take JLPT level 2 this winter.

I literally had road rage (damn pedestrians!) while riding my bike back over to my neck of the woods.

So tonight/tomorrow I am going to write off an email to my sensei asking about ID and all, where do I go and that I would like to take his seminar (saw the syllabus, good chance and a challenge for me to try to do my research really in Japanese since I have to write a paper) and ask how do I register. Also in the email, I am going to let him know of my problem, and ask if he has any suggestions on what should I do.

I am just very afraid that my Japanese won't get any better than it is now, and then when I take my language tests at the start of my Ph.d prog I will do poorly (AND I have to take another language!), then I won't be able to pass my languge exams to get me to the ABD stage, then I will fail out of the program, waste 4-5 years of my life and then start from scratch again. And then what?

It is a serious, mega fear of mine - failing at what I am trying to accomplish right now. I am a serious mild Type-A with a dash of OCD sort of person (think Cristina from Grey's Anatomy but not bitchy and cold like her) when it comes to school and work - I have worked so hard with so little and pretty much been the scrappy one with the language so it's been a bit more difficult and now with the mild stress of applying to grad school which leads me to try and rethink my project, I just feel that it's all crap and for naught.

One ironic upside is that if I can't take Japanese classes, then I guess I have every motivation to work even harder in my regular classes (of which I will take 3 instead of 2) and get some Kanji workbooks/JLPT level 2 workbooks and those grammar dictionaries from the Japan Times because I know I need to focus on reading, grammar/vocab and kanji - the speaking and the listening can come by when I am in class and meet Japanese kids; my new friend from Rits, Ulyana says that she learned more in her regular classes than her actual Japanese classes (she even said the SKP classes weren't that great, but I need some structure).

Maybe the no Japanese classes would be a good thing since I can focus on what I really want to do in terms of the language, don't have to waste my time and have more time with the actual regular classes, and then get more practical application, which is what I also want and need more than a boring grammar lesson. I think I am just afraid to step out of that "Japanese language class" bubble.

Blogging helps me think. I see more pink now, not red.

Of Politics and Cacophonous Megaphones

Political season is upon us - and no, I don't mean the madness and rat-race that is known as the 2008 presidential race. (Speaking of which, that will be my first time voting for president, as in 2004 I was in London and since NY is such a blue state, absentee ballots don't count.)

This summer is the House of Councilors Elections and that's the Upper House of the Diet,and is sorta like the Senate in the States and the House of Lords in England. Sort of. There was a big to-do about the new PM Shinzo Abe and the fact that a) his popularity is going down and b) the elections in July will be life-or-death for him. Even before I arrived in Kyoto, there were signs of the candidates (though obviously I did not know that they were candidates, and that there was an election coming this summer) all over the place, even on houses in the neighborhoods off the main roads, my own included. There are a bunch of political parties in Japan, the one in power being the Liberal Democratic Party of Japan (LDP), the one who has continuously had power since the end of WWII. Here is their very logo, to the right. Enough with the cute little kids and the cartoons, they are totally unconvincing.

Japan really does have this thing with cartoons of one stripe or another.

The main opposition party is the Democratic Party of Japan (DPJ), which is pretty young (since 1998) and one of their main issues is that the LDP has been running the show for a bit too long. Their logo is a bit more "political-ish," or at least more convincing. I pass by one of the Kyoto offices on my way to Rits when I ride my bike. (no, school hasn't started yet, but I have gone there twice already). Then again, I can't say much for logos being to convincing in terms of imagery - there are donkeys and elephants in the States.

You have your meet-and-greets, and I guess there are fund raisers; one needs money to run campaigns after all. The analysts in the States are probably having a ball with the way Clinton and Obama are changing the scene in that respect.

And then there are the megaphones.

In Japan, people like to drive around in cars with megaphones blaring on top of the car (and they are huge) - it can range from the little truck that comes around with a cute little song and an uber-peppy (they always are uber-peppy) female voice squeaking out that the recycling truck is coming, to the political vans that either are saying some sort of new slogan, campaign or propaganda.

Given that the conservatives/nationalists (I keep forgetting which, because like almost every other American, I am guilty of trying to align foreign political parties with the donkeys and the elephants back home, even subconsciously) are not very big fans of foreigners (as far as I know, see the Yasukuni Shrine broo-ha-ha and all that goes with it, it's a mega issue that runs in all sorts of directions) and the previous short-lived appearance of the "Gaijin Hanzai Fairu" (Foreigner Crime White Paper), whenever those trucks are blaring "gaijin this, gaijin that" I am always a bit wary, because it sometimes is never a good thing especially when it's by those people who are the Nationalists (conservatives?). Apparently, their presence is even worse in Tokyo, especially when you are right near the Yasukuni Shrine. Since I did a research paper on the place, I plan to visit when I go to Tokyo in June; according to Chen, you are not even allowed to take pictures inside, and invariably, I'll bet it's so that you don't take pictures of the museum captions (they have a nifty website that I used in my research, filled with propagandist tones).

So, with the elections making it a make-or-break for Abe, the trucks are blaring. Incessantly. They are on the corner of Marutamachi/Higashi-oji in the mornings, sometimes with the politician just waving his hand, while a deputy reads quickly and loudly through the microphone. They have just stopped blaring in my neighborhood after about oh, two or three hours of gibberish that I don't understand yet, although in one of the cars, the actual politician was a female, and waving from the car even though there were like two people on the street (she was in the depths of my neighborhood, off the main road), wearing white gloves. More power to the girls in Japan, even with white gloves and waving hands a la Miss America.

I think it will be a real long while before there is a Japanese version of Barbra Boxer, Hilary Clinton or Nancy Pelosi.

I Can Get No Peace

The weather is beautiful today. Sunny skies, 68 degrees Fahrenheit (don't ask me to convert it to Celsius for you Metric users), the birds were chirping, etc. etc. Since I live near the Kamo River I decided I would go again and chill out on a bench, and do some readings that I have been procrastinating about since last December for my research. Packed some green tea in my thermos, brought and orange, whole wheat crackers and bought a new highlighter, and I was off and running. Or rather, riding.

The usual suspects were along the Kamo River: dog walkers, elderly couples, a few tourists on bikes, young families, old biddies cleaning up the trash, college and high school students. I was minding my own business when a man walking a Shiba Inu (a Japanese dog, I want to get one - or an Akita - and name it either Daisuke or Miyako/Miya for short) took a look at me and started to walk in my direction.

"Hello," he said in a pretty clear voice.

Several things ran through my mind:

1) Ok, I am a mild sucker for Shiba Inus, and I like to look at them. He has a nice dog.
2) Hmm...his English isn't that badly accented.
3) Oh dammit - AGAIN strange people are talking to me! Please, just leave me alone.

Luckily for me, I was actually packing up my things, because it got too windy. I politely answered his question of "Are you a student?" (pretty obvious because I was wielding photocopied text and a highlighter) and turned back to put my bag in my bike basket. I guess he got the picture that he either probably freaked me out or that I was leaving so he just walked away and threw his ball with his dog.

I then rode my bike up along the bike path on the eastern side of the river under the blooming cherry blossoms (not totally out yet) and bought some tulips from a houseware/Home Depot/Ikea-ish store that is near me.

A Heart of Jam

Happy Valentines Day!

Chen came by since I had invited her over for brunch and I made pancakes. We both realized that it was Valentine's Day; since we had not chocolate, just syrup, butter, and strawberry jam, we improvised:



And just like chocolate, the pancake was very yummy.

Valentine's Day is done a bit differently in Japan. For starters, it's not really a couple's holiday in the sense that both partners take part in buying gifts for one another, going out to dinner etc. etc. There are actual, prescribed rules for Japan Valentine's Day:



1) If you are single and female you give chocolate that is not too expensive (i.e. Kit-Kat, Snickers, M&M's, 100yen chocolate from QQ Shop) to give to your guy friends, and other men in your life. This can range from your father, your boss or your advisor.
2) If you are single, female and you like a particular guy then you give him a little special chocolate in addition to the Kit-Kats that everyone gets - or is it just that special guy? I am thinking the latter, bit fuzzy here.
3) If you are female and in a relationship, then you give the one you love VERY expensive, VERY special chocolate.

Said chocolate is the type that you get at department stores, in the special events floor. Alisa had gone to one of the department stores in Osaka and gorged on the free samples. On her advice (and good one at that!) I went to the JR Isetan after the kimono taiken and got my chocolate fix. There were hundreds of women going crazy for little bitty pieces of overpriced chocolate from around the world, apparently.

But on February 14, it's all the women that go gaga and shop for all the chocolate that is to be found in Japan. What do the guys do?

Here we enter the world of "Funky Holidays That Only The Japanese Could Make Up." It totally trumps the American greeting card industry and their penchant for designating my birthday as "Happy Peanut Day" or something of the sort.

Enter White Day, Marc h 14. Exactly one month later, all the guys who got chocolate are required to reciprocate back to the ladies. As to how mandatory this is, I don't know. If the guy who got chocolate from a girl who like him and wants to tell her the same thing, then chocolate of the same grade is given back. How sweet - they then become sweeties over sweets.

Woman In Black

Every hear of the infamous "Black American Express" card? You know, the one that supposedly comes in its own chaffeured (sp?) limousine and in a black box and is only for the people that spend on their original Amex's over $250,000 a year?

You do get your own personal concierge with direct email and phone in addition to other perks that I have no use of. I just look foward to the day when I can go to J.Crew and maybe buy a sweater without having to wait for a sale. However, I know that even if that day comes, I will still wait for the sale.

I wonder, how someone in Japan could get such a card especially when alot of the retailers don't accept credit cards and when they do, it's not usually American Express. Then again, those kinds of people shop at Gucci, Apple Store, Prada, Louis Vuitton (biggest market for the company outside of France is Japan), Hermes, etc. etc. without batting an eye.

The Black one has always remained elusive. That is, until yesterday:

I met up with Mayuko at the Apple Store in Osaka's Shinsaibashi area and proceeded to decide upon the orange iPod shuffle (more burnt orange than citrusy orange) after multiple incidents with triggering the alarm on those things. We then ate ramen (YUMMY, kimchi!) and walked around the arcades. Shinsaibashi is my new favorite shopping area and probably one of the very few places that I like in Osaka.

We ended up at Zara - I always knew that they had sales going on and I just wanted to see what they had on offer since that was one of the very few stores in Japan (the second being the Gap and the third maybe Uniqlo) that would have stuff in my size. Lo and behold, they list the American sizes in addition to the Japanese. I found the perfect spring coat that fulfilled my "Audrey Hepburn" requirements: short, interesting buttons and 3/4 sleeves. I will wait on it though and see what there is to offer in Korea.

I did find a pair of capri leggings on sale - I needed a new pair - and this long, light airy scarf that feels like a cotton-silk blend. Original price: 6200 yen. I paid: 945 yen. Awesome. I am starting to like Zara very much - it has changed alot from when I first stepped into one of the many Zara's in Athens back in 2002.

While I was looking for a register, I saw something in the little tray that they use here to put the money:

the black American Express. The Centurion American Express. In retrospect, I wonder if its the titanium version, since they only introduced those last year.

The amount shown charged on the cash register?

61,000yen. That is about 600 dollars.

The person who owned the card and charged all that money?

A middle-aged woman dressed all in black. complete with the Chanel earrings, fake Hermes Kelly bag, real Louis Vuitton wallet, hot-pink pimped out cellphone, fake hair scrunchie, and the hideous Japanese manicure (where they glue on rhinestones in addition to the glitter nailpolish). Even Mayuko remarked that she was too old to be pulling stuff off like that, and shopping at Zara to boot.

Then again, Japan is the home of Princess Tenko, nee TMariko Itakura - the illusionist whose passport Kim Jong-Il once siezed during a visit to Korth Korea because he obsesses over her - who is obligated to "look like 24 forever," as per her contract with Mattel (yeah the same ones who own Barbie). She started performing in 1977 as a teenager, and was born in 1959. It's now 2007. Do the math and you see another example of Japan's youth obsessed culture.

Go Ahead. Make His Day.

So, the guy from the company that runs my building dropped in promptly at 7pm this evening, as per our arrangment over the phone earlier today. He comes in, takes his shoes off and heads to my itinerant bathroom with the pissy pipes, bucket and plunger in hand.

Pissy pipes - not really. More like stuffed up strainer.

He lifts up the metal lid on the floor and I actually gasp out of embarrasment. It wasn't a case of "the shower is clogged, get the Drano and sulfuric acid" (one time, I poured candle wax down the sink, now THAT was embarrassing). The plumbing here is a wee bit different - the pipe from the shower and the sink empty into this hole that the strainer was covering together. There is no separate pipe for the shower, like back home. I was thinking that it was going to be a major operation, as memories of my dad with the infamous "snake" came into mind.

No, this was a simple case of the strainer wasn't cleaned. I was so embarrased, and started to ramble off in Japanese: "I am so sorry, this is so embarrasing, this is my first time living alone, Japanese plumbing is quite different..." I felt so bad that I had to make the guy come, I took the strainer and began to clean it myself - and since he also touched it, pumped some of the liquid hand soap that I had luckily bought earlier in the day and directed him to the kitchen sink so that he can wash his hands.

I then proceeded to wash the strainer in the kitchen sink; he kneeled on the floor and we chatted about this and that, since I wanted to make sure that it was just the strainer and not some bigger problem.

In retrospect, it was a total "gaijin" moment and quite funny. I'll bet it will be the watercooler topic for tomorrow at the company.

One other thing that I noticed: when I was rambling quite coherently all in Japanese, I noticed that I did just that - ramble in the way that I just let myself go and didn't stop to think about trying to translate a sentence or a word. I probably made some mistakes but I didn't stop, which I think, is a good thing.

This little fiasco probably made the guy's day - go to building, soothe nervous female gaijin and get to sit down and chat while she cleans the strainer.

The Name is Fuji. Mr. Fuji.

Japanese Lesson #11:

1) San - "Mr." or "Miss," "Mrs." etc. Honorific tied onto the names.
2) Yama - mountain

I was trying to doze off and keep an eye out for the flight attendants who were giving out the lunches at the same time when the captain of the plane made an announcement:

"If you look onto your right, Mt. Fuji will be coming up on your left." Naturally, everyone in the plane began to go gaga, myself included. Who gets an aerial view on a clear day of one of the most well-known symbols of Japan? Sometimes I wonder if those maiko I saw back in October were really tourists dressing up as geisha (which is quite common) so the prospect of seeing geisha in general is extremely slim.

Mt. Fuji is one of the most famous symbols of Japan. Everyone knows what Mt. Fuji is regardless of whether or not they have anything to do with Japan. One can climb that mountain - :::cough cough::: volcano - and it's famous for being really pretty from afar, but gross up close. The place is covered with trash.

It's also famous for the "Black Forest." Not the one in Germany - no, this Black Forest's floor is covered with iron from the volcano, rendering regular Boy Scout compasses and cell phones useless. People go in there to commit suicide. The police conduct a round-up of the bodies once a year, and have to tie ropes around their waists so that they don't get lost in the forest.



There is something funny about Mt. Fuji. The Japanese call Mt. Fuji "Fuji-San," as opposed to "Fuji-yama." There are mountains that have the name + yama to create the official name of the mountain, but dear ol' Fuji is the only one with "san" at the end of the name. I know that this harks back to respect for the mountain and several thousand years of custom and traditional Shinto belief, but it's kinda funny when you say "Fuji-san, and it can also mean quite literally, "Mr. Fuji."

I wonder if the mountain likes his lava shaken, not stirred.

Nintendo: More than Just Mario and Luigi

Japanese Lesson #10:

1) Karuta - "card game," derived from the Portuguese word "carta." Incidentally, "Carta" is the Greek word for card as well. Gotta love the Europeans and their amagalm of languages.
2) Waka - traditional Japanese poems, predominantly dating from the Heian period.
3) Kotowaza - Japanese idioms

My Japanese reading teacher is one of my favorites, next to conversation and the crazy grammar teacher. Instead of having class on Friday, which was the last day before vacation, she decided to forgo the lesson and teach us karuta for the New Year. In particular "uta-garuta" and "iroha-karuta." (There are tons of karuta, but two are especially played in the New Year.) We still had our weekly vocabulary quiz - I totally forgot about it, but I knew the words regardless. I got lucky this week.


The first is "uta-garuta." There are two sets of card in this deck, amounting to 200 cards. One one set of 100, there are "waka," with a picture of the composer underneath. The other set has the last two lines of the waka printed on it. You scatter the cards (the ones with the last two lines of the poem printed), face-up, and then a person takes the waka card and reads the poem aloud. The first person to get the matching two-lines card from the scattered pile wins the round. Whoever has the most cards after reading out all 100 wins the whole game. There are actually professional uta-garuta competitions that can get quite nasty; even from hearing the first syllable of the waka, professionals can grab the card from the pile of two-line cards. Even towards the end, most of us were competing with one another when we both saw the card at the same time.

You can play another game with the same deck, using the cards with the waka and the illustration on it. Get 4 people and arrange the cards into 4 stacks, facedown. Draw a card - if its a male, draw another; bald man, lose your turn. Draw a female, and you take all the cards that the person before you has. Play until all the cards are drawn; whoever has the most cards, wins. This one can get quite interesting, since it is all due to chance, rather than skill.


Iroha-karuta uses kotowaza for its phrases. It's played the exact same way as uta-garuta. Each card that is spilled out face up has one hiragana character, which corresponds to a kotowaza that begins with that same character, and has a picture that expresses the meaning of the idiom. Unlike uta-garuta which is probably a really old game, iroha-karuta dates from the Edo period, which is around the 15th century.

Little bit of trivia: who usually makes the karuta decks, at least the uta-garuta sets?

Nintendo.

Nintendo is actually much older than people in the States think, and is not just known for Mario and Luigi. Nintendo dates back to the Meiji period (19th century) and mostly started making the card games. I had known that but totally forgot about it; so I did a double take when my teacher said that she got these from Nintendo.

Nintendo should make a video game of the karuta. Play against the computer. Since the DS Lite has a little stylus, you can definitely pick the cards from the deck with the phrases on it. Or since DS has infrared, play with other people.