Wooden Playground in Roppongi on a Sunny Sunday

Short-attention-span friendly observations

Awesome things about Japan:
Vending machines with cans of hot coffee (and tea) for 100 yen on every damn corner.
Really starting to love the heated toilet seats...
Combinis (Japanese convenience stores, unlike in the U.S., sell real food)

Not so awesome things about Japan:
Everything is plastic wrapped and plastic wrapped things are wrapped in more plastic.
With everything you buy you get a plastic bag and maybe a paper bag for that bag, and public garbage bags are just about as scarce as vending machines are ubiquitous. I've learned the phrase fukuro kekko desu (No bag, thank you) super well.

Bit of cultural trivia/ Linguistic indication of Japanese working culture -
When leaving work, it's common to say "Osaki ni shitsurei shimasu", meaning, I'm sorry for leaving early (before you). The reply is often "Otsukare sama desu" which translates to "you must be tired", but this can be said when both you and your coworker are leaving at the same time as well.

Learners, Researchers and Burners.

Watashi wa Reichieru desu.

Watashi wa kenkyuin desu.

Minnesota kara kimashita.

For me, and for many of my linguaphile friends, learning a new language is a string of exciting new challenges and mini-goals. Each new phrase used and understood in the real world by real Japanese, is for me a victory. I've been learning japanese in quick and easy 30 minute lessons from my coworker Kitamura-san who used to be a Japanese teacher, using the book NIHONGO FUN & EASY.

YES. It makes good on that name.

She laughs at my silly running group, and the casual/slang words I've learned from friends, and then she finds rolls of origami paper I've been looking for to make stars with :).

Work

My fourth day in Japan I started what unexpectedly became my first day of work. Nothing too work-like, but it was certainly draining, both because of my efforts to make a good first impression with my coworkers and avoid any cultural faux pas and because of the introvert in me smiling my way through countless introductions. I felt awkward bowing and only did so slightly and when I remembered. Being given a business card from a new coworker, I remembered how important they are in the Japanese culture, as she bent her knees lowering the top of her head and placing her business card in the palms of both her outstretched hands. It instantly reminded me of this bit of cultural fun.

Money and exchanges between customer and sales representatives are treated in a similar respect, at least in official realms such as the bank, post-office, etc. Nothing is handed to and forth except on a small tray. And over in the ritzy Ginza neighborhood, the doormen stand with stiffer spines than the guards at buckingham palace.  I found it silly and entertaining to watch.

My first two full weeks of work in my first real full time career-related job have been exciting but slow enough to ease in, with time enough for some city roaming/running (with hashers of course) and a weekend away in the mountains with a bunch of generous international hippies. More on that later. I've neglected sending out souvenirs/gifts to those I've been meaning to, but I don't forget such things. But let me know if you're someone who direly wants me to send them something specific, or would be sad if I neglected to send you a postcard.

I started out my work at the Clinical Research Center reading background articles on spinal cord injury clinical trials and some disease I can't remember the name of right now (edit: looked it up for all you doctor folk out there (i.e. Alex), Idiopathic Thrombocytopenic Pupura), since we'll be doing data analysis for a few registration trials (very regimented clinical trial required for newish drugs) in the spring. I 'helped' with some consultations my boss had with physicians from Keio doing research, but these have often been in Japanese so I'm unable to follow. My boss does ask the researchers to speak in english when he knows they're capable and I've enjoyed learning about their projects and chiming in when possible. On my first day of work I met Dr. Sato, my boss' boss, who is like an older, Japanese, and if possible more refined, version of Mr. Darcy (google images, you highly disappoint me for your lack of Japanese Darcys). My first full week of work he took me, boss and a few of physicians and coworkers of mine out to dinner for my welcome party (which I found out today I'll have another of) at a small but oh so authentic French restaurant whose owner, speaking Japanese in his French accent was delightfully charming. We sat, ate, drank and talked for four hours. Fantastic. The following day I had ladies lunch with my female coworkers at a traditional japanese restaurant and tried raw egg, but nothing too out of the ordinary.

Today my boss received a call from Dr. Sato, saying we've been asked to perform the analysis on an upcoming psychiatric study involving three universities and some mental health institute. Super excited to be working on things that really interest me :). 

Still, in my preferred as little as possible to as much as possible fun:work ratio, I spent this weekend in Yamanashi prefecture, admiring the the Tanagawa mountains and some awesome longtime burner outfits (burners are Burning Man attendees, as at Japan's 24 hour festival inspired by the original, there were many longtime burners); enjoying the onsen, and dancing all night.

Fun with color

 Examples of the friends I met there: a couple traveling from Holland, a french woman whose dream it had been to come to Tokyo since she was little, a guy from Milan, some ESL teachers living in Japan, an arabic guy who just moved to Tokyo as well, some Aussies, and lots of Japanese who I had varying levels of communication with, from miming and badminton, to dancing, and full-fledged conversations (graphic designer who lived in Los Angeles for years and spend last spring traveling on a cruise ship).  One slim Japanese guy pulled off cross-dressing fantastically.  My friends from Holland and I watched his silhouette on the canvas of a tent putting on false eyelashes that were distinct enough to count. The image was so perfect it was as if he was putting on a show for all of us watching, and I couldn't stop watching.
As any burner knows, everyone was incredibly friendly and welcoming, and I was offered delicious spicy tofu and mushroom soup, Tamagozake (the Japanese version of eggnog, made with sake), mikan (Japanese oranges, which are really clementines) and grilled veggies from strangers/new friends.

Sun stage

Japanese camping is rough. All you get to eat is Paella. 

Photo credit: Nieke Oosterhout and Mick Janssen.

Took a long video at one of the less exciting fire dancers moments and then didn't take video for long enough during this performance.

More people need to hear this band

I give you Alt-J.

Tesselate -

Dissolve Me - Beautiful and strange but sweet when you see the lyrics:

Fitzpleasure - I'll warn you, this one's a bit bizarre.

From the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Observatory at Night

Looking West

...East(?)

Trying out the Panoramic function

Tried to use a long exposure app for my iPhone camera. Anyone know of a good one? This one took in light fine, but turned out super grainy

Afternoon Run Through the Crowds

I've thrown a lot of words at you all, so now for some easily digestible pictures!
From my run this afternoon. Beautiful day for it:

From a raised walkway near Shinjuku Station. The world's busiest transit hub, conveniently located 1.4 miles from my apartment.

This sort of covered escalator totally reminds me of all futuristic computer games I've played (The Longest Journey. Favorite game everrrr).

Mode Gakuen Cocoon Tower, near Shinjuku Station

Inside Shinjuku Station

Porcelain doll 1 and 2 out for a day of shopping with little kid friend.
Yes, I am an obnoxious American who surreptiously takes pictures of bizarre Tokyo fashion. 

For my biking friends: Tons of bikes around the city, and only about half of them seem to be locked, and those are only locked to themselves, rarely to anything grounded. Goes to show how safe Tokyo is.

Hanko and the Hash House Harriers

So the night of my arrival in Tokyo I was (understandably) exhausted.  But I'm a professed nonbeliever in jet lag (I have all-nighters from time to time and recover fairly quickly, why should traveling halfway around the world be any different?) so a good nights sleep should fix all that. See my next post for my renunciation of this foolish belief, and acceptance of its existence.

Tuesday:
Living in Tokyo is anything but boring. Everything takes a little more effort or a bit more research when you don't speak the language. I learn something new every ten minutes or so, which is fantastic, because I love learning, especially cultural learning. Tuesday, my first full day in Japan, was spent meeting with my boss Takayuki to set up my bank account and grocery shopping. In Japan, in lieu of signatures for things such as bank documents, everyone has a stamp with their name on it called a hanko, so I got mine to officially set up my bank account (which you can see below along with my residence card, library card and work id).

The black cylinder is my hanko, and the red stamp is what it looks like. It says Ro-Be-Tsu (for Roberts).

The grocery store proved to be a great learning opportunity. Upon entering I just stood staring for a bit  unsure of what I planned to get there. But conveniently the first things I saw were plates and pans, which were exactly what I most needed to bring my tiny kitchen to the next level. Unfortunately, when you move and are unfamiliar with your new home and need things you waste a bunch of money for the sake of convenience. So I bought two (not so special) plastic plates for ~$24, not really realizing it, but the next day I made up for it by finding a 100 yen store and getting a couple bowls and cups for a little over a dollar each.

Other things learned in the grocery store were as follows:
1. Everything is wrapped in plastic, including produce.
2. The grocery store near me has two levels, one of which I didn't notice, leading me to believe that Japanese grocery stores don't carry any bread (though this isn't far from the truth), or produce.
3. I can tell the difference between shampoo and conditioner by reading katakana, but moisturizers and face wash are just as difficult to tell apart as in the U.S. (maybe I'm the only one who has this problem).
4. Entertainment can be found in Japanese grocery stores in the form of advertisement jingles played on tiny tvs next to the dead fish aisle.

Wednesday:
And Wednesday is a hashing day! The Hash House Harriers are an international "running group with a drinking problem". The previous link gives a good explanation (if I described it in detail half of you would probably think it sounds awesome, the other half silly and perhaps even repulsive) but for the purposes of this post you should simply know that we run a trail marked by flour laid on the ground by the "hare(s)." I learned of the group and joined them in Portland this past summer and found it to be a fantastic way to meet new people, see parts of the city I'd never have seen on my own and get the fringe benefit of exercising now and then. But before coming to Tokyo the first I had heard of the group was from my friend Chiara, and my aunt's friend Shaila, both of whom hashed in Tokyo.

So I found where the group was meeting and planned to meet them after setting up my new iphone. With Chiara's help, I had found a Softbank store in the famous Harajuku with employees that speak english, but got a bit lost in finding it (sans working iphone) and so by the time I was done setting up a data plan it was 6:30pm. The group meets at 7:20, and knowing this and the fact that it would take me 20 minutes to get home by train, and another 20 to get to the Iidabashi station where the run would begin, I was anxious to get out of the store. I ran out of the store jumped on the always on time and frequently running train home, changed my clothes and ran back out the door. I got to Iidabashi exactly at 7:20 but couldn't find anyone at the meeting point.  I was about to go home after looking around a bit, but then I noticed a mark of flour on the ground, signifying a part of the trail. I followed it, and soon enough found another mark, and another, and for about half a mile I ran following marks left by strangers, with no clue where I was, or where I would end up.  I soon came upon a Japanese man and woman who looked like they were runners and asked them "Are you?" which is the typical hasher's way to ask if someone is on the trail, to which they responded "Ohn-On...err, looking!," meaning they were looking for the next mark. I followed them through streets and shoulder width alleyways for miles and we finally reached the end of the trail where we were rewarded with a beer. We then spent the next few hours at a restaurant where we ate delicious tofu and udon, and drank seemingly unlimited beer and sake, and I was transported back to this past summer in Portland. It's incredible to me that I can go to pretty much any large city in the world and find people doing this same thing (hashing) in nearly the same way. It was like the comfort of a Starbucks for some travelers, but so much better.

   

 The above are pictures of my apartment/dorm.  I would've added nice small captions under each one, but it turns out blogspot makes it obnoxiously hard to get four pictures in one row and moreso with captions.

(By the way, I came to Tokyo with dreams of toilets like these, which you can find in the airport and even some McDonalds here, but instead I got a boring normal toilet. My work however, does have the high-tech toilets. This resulted in me standing in front of a toilet full of my pee trying to figure out what button to press to simply flush, for a good minute or two. I almost gave up and left the bathroom unflushed, but as I was about to walk out of the stall, a coworker showed up and not wanting to seem uncouth for walking out with my pee out in the open and all, I walked back into the stall, prompting her to ask through the door if I needed anything...)

My friend Ben (who writes a hilarious blog from Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso) asked me if I live in a high rise. Sadly, no. But maybe that will be one of the factors I consider in getting a more permanent apartment (I'm only in this one til the end of December). And by request from Ania, pictures out of my door/window, and from the patio.

Arrival in Tokyo, or, My Subconscious' Attempt to Sabotage My Plans.

Things I've come to accept:
I've come to accept the fact that I will never stop losing my belongings, or forgetting to do mundane tasks, such as check airline departure times for flights that were booked three months previously (my acceptance of this helps me to remain calm when such things occur in most cases, with the exception of the story that follows). My expatriation from the U.S. to Japan last Sunday was more than ample reminder of this for me.

I've also come to accept the fact that I am largely incapable of telling a story in a succinct manner, unless I abbreviate it so much so as to lose its value as a story (this is the rationale for my labeling and dividing this post into more digestible sections. I promise future posts will be short). Finally, I've come to realize, and perhaps not accept, that I overthink nearly everything I do, and thus in creating this blog, deciding on a title required hours of brainstorming and asking the opinions of at least 5 friends on a number of variations on the same theme. Deciding on the format probably took almost an hour as well.

The days before leaving:

Due to a number of delays along the way (some my doing, others out of my hands), my master's project, the final requirement for my graduation, was scheduled for three days before my flight to Tokyo. This meant a total of two days to say goodbye to family and friends, figure out what I needed to do before leaving, get gifts for anyone it'd be expected to get them for in Japan, and pack.  So Friday was spent biking with my parents around the beautiful lakes of Uptown which I'll come to miss, and dressing up in the most bizarre representations possible of the American view of Japanese style with friends in the evening. On Saturday, <24 hours before my flight, I decided it was probably time to try to change some money to yen, before leaving.  That failed. Oh well. Who needs money in the city with just about the highest cost of living in the world. Then packing began, and continued until 4:30am, an hour before I needed to leave for my 7:45am flight, but with a wonderful interlude of family dinner, and a bonfire with friends.

Minneapolis airport:
Once at the airport, I say my goodbyes to my sister and brother-in-law holding back tears, print my boarding passes and pay for my two 60 lb suitcases (10 lbs worth over the limit = $60 charge per suitcase). Looking at my ticket I see that my first flight was scheduled to leave at 6:05am. An hour and 40 minutes before it was originally scheduled, three months prior. I start to get nervous.  It's 5:40am and I'm just beginning to go through security, but they wouldn't have let me check my bags if it was that close, right?  It must be some sort of error.  10 minutes pass and I'm putting my things on the conveyer belt, and they tell me my carry-on needs to be inspected, but that there are two bags up for inspection ahead of mine, it might be a minute or two.  I look at my phone obnoxiously in the hopes that they'll realize I'm in a hurry.  The TSA agent finally looks through my bag and makes amused comments about my neat travel-size laptop speaker. I am released to run like hell to the gate.

Flying over Duluth, MN, on my way to Chicago

I get to the gate at 6:00am and am told that boarding has ceased and the plane has been secured. I missed my flight. All the emotion over leaving so many friends and dear family members and the nervousness about starting my first real job in a country whose language is not my own not knowing when I'll be back, and all the exhaustion from lack of sleep prior to leaving and stress from finishing my master's project at the last minute, come together and I break down sobbing and  hyperventilating.  A man comes over to comfort me and let me know that he's a christian asks me if I believe in God.  I shake my head in between sobs and he says that that's okay and he'll pray for me anyway, and that I should know someone out there cares for me.  I thank him and soon the gate agent comes over and tells me that she isn't supposed to, but she'll put me on standby on the United flight (my original flight being with American Airlines), one gate over.  I calm down and make it onto this flight, and get to Chicago with three hours to spare before my direct flight to Japan.

Chicago airport:
I look at the Departures screen once in Chicago and see that the one flight on the board for Narita is only a couple gates from the one I arrived at. I leisurely have breakfast and read my Japanese phrasebook to pass the time. The flight I'm waiting for starts to board and I make my way through the long line, to the woman checking boarding passes. She takes one look at my ticket and tells me I'm supposed to be two terminals over for the AA flight to Narita, not the United flight.  AWESOME. TIME FOR MORE RUNNING LIKE HELL.  GOOD THING I'VE BEEN SPENDING SO MUCH TIME EXERCISING, EATING WELL AND GETTING ADEQUATE SLEEP WHILE FINISHING MY MASTERS PROJECT.  Not.
I run two terminals over and make it to the flight I'm supposed to be on covered in sweat.  Great way to spend the next 13 hours. 

Japan:

(^Short video from the train ride from Narita to Tokyo)

We arrive in Japan and at immigration there's a bitch of a line, but no matter, I have a 3 year visa so I get to jump to the front.  You remember those two 60 lb bags I checked? Now I get to carry them up and down escalators and onto the train from Narita to Tokyo, where I'm meeting my boss at Tokyo Station (somewhere). I don't know what I expected but Tokyo Station is pretty much Japan's equivalent of Grand Central Station, and boards ~381,000 people per day according to wiki (this doesn't include people exiting at the station). I have no working phone, but I have my boss' phone number and email.  I try his phone from a payphone but either the line is busy or I don't know how to work Japanese payphones. So I ask Information if there's wifi available somewhere.  On the way to the exit of the station that has wifi, I take an escalator in the wrong direction and my suitcases teeter on the edges of the escalator stairs and fall backward, taking me with them, onto two poor Japanese commuters, to whom I give apologetic looks, because I can't remember how to say I'm sorry, only Excuse me, which seemed a poor substitute given the circumstances.

I finally make it to the correct station exit, pushing my way through a sea of Japanese tourists taking pictures of the new renovations to the outside of Tokyo Station, that were revealed that day after 5 years of renovations (neat video of the light show played for the grand opening). I wait at the West Travel Services center to ask if this is where I can get wifi for about 20 minutes, and am told to go to the other side of the rotunda, to the seemingly identical East Travel Services center. I finally get wifi and email my boss, who at this point has been waiting for me for probably a good hour or two and we taxi it over to my new apartment, ending my day and a half of commuting.

This story is already far too long, so I won't go into my difficulties reading convenience store labels and grocery store confusion. If you've stayed with me this long (i.e. if you're my mom or dad) I'll send you a gold origami star.  Just send me your address.

I meant to also write about the minor triumphs of my first few days here, but I'll save that for another post, in a much abbreviated form compared to this post.

Last thing: People expatriate all the time, but I don't know how many of them are lucky enough to feel the type of support and love that I have in the past few weeks. Thank you all for being there for me.

FAQ

Disclaimer: I admit this is a very narcissistic thing to do (starting a blog, writing about my Lifeee). I just hope the narcissism will be balanced by the benefits of keeping better in touch with the people I care about, and keeping a record of my time in Japan.

The following is for anyone who happened upon this that I haven't spoken to in the last 6 months. Everyone else skip this post. Please.

Top 5 questions you get asked when you decide to move cross-continent:
1. What will you do there (in Japan)?
A: I'm going to be working in the Center for Clinical Research in Keio University's School of Medicine. It's a pretty big school, but this particular campus is somewhat smaller.  According to my boss, Takayuki, about 100 med students per year attend.
2. Do you know Japanese?
A: Nope.  Only about 50 words, and the katakana and hiragana alphabets (but reading katakana helps a lot, as all borrowed english words are written phonetically with it).
Working on it though.
3. How long will you be there?
A: About 3 years.  Who knows from there. 

4. Are you excited? Nervous?

A: Yes, of course, both.  (But honestly the excitement didn’t really happen til I was arriving in the city.  It's been a whirlwind of a summer and last month in MN, haven't really had time to look forward.)

5. Do you like sushi?  You should get sushi at Jiro’s Sushi Bar.  Have you seen Jiro Dreams of Sushi?  You should.

Yes, I enjoy sushi, at least the few times I’ve had it. No I still haven’t seen it. I will though, I promise.