Tokyo nights

Raped by sugary cuteness

So I started this post talking about my first week of actual classes, but I figured people would rather see more of Mochi than hear about how I was sexually harrassed by 17 year old boys (don't worry, they're going to get theirs. hehehehe). Don't worry that this is turning into a blog on kitties, though. I'm actually considering starting a Japanese one for him on goo. My goal is to have Mochi be the most popular scottish fold and knock Moo (type in scottish fold on youtube and the white kitten that pops up first is Moo) outta the running.

So Mochi has now been with me for one week and is a sweet boy. BUT, we are still working on some discipline issues like chewing on Ethernet cables, jumping on mommy's face when she's trying to sleep (he has this thing about wanting to lick my nose and mouth that I find somewhat disturbing...if cute) and trying to climb the bookcase.

He's really good when I'm gone all day at work and has yet to claw the walls or make messes anywhere. I taught him how to use and climb his cat tower and while the top is still too high for him, he can make it almost half way now. He also started using the scratching boards I bought. The only thing that turned out to be a waste of money so far is the nekoko bed I bought for him. It is super cute, but he has no interest in sleeping in a bed. Could be when he gets older he'll grow to like it. It was over 10,000 yen (yes, yes, I know it was expensive) so I really hope he'll use it someday.

His favorite toys are the organic cotton an suede mice and his punching ball.

Some sweet eye candy for those with weary souls:

He's home!

So on Friday night I went to bed early in anticipation of the morning call I would get telling me my kitten was ready for pick up from the Seino transportation office in Asakusa. At midnight I get a call saying he's already at the office. 9 hours early. WTF?!?

At first I was confused and asked if I could pick him up a little later. The guy on the phone said sure and I started to go back to sleep, until I wondered if he was in a cage and if he'd had any food or water all day since the breeder sent him on his merry way at 9 a.m. I sat up like a shot and called the company back. I also went online and used google map (how I love you!) to find out where the heck this Seino office was.

20 minutes later I was down on the street like a hooker, trying to entice a car to pull over. Let me just say that taxi drivers in Tokyo at 12:30 a.m. are lazy fucks. I found two pulled over with vacancy lights lit up, and neither of the bastards were willing to take me there.  They kept spouting bullshit like "Oh, my car is facing the wrong direction and I can't pull a U turn here. I'd have to circle around the block and it would cost you more money. You should go onto the main highway and try to catch a cab there." Trying not to leap over the railing on the side of the road and throttle the lazy shithead, I thanked him through stiff lips and stalked out to the main drag near my station.

A few moments later all the traffic stopped because there was an accident and no cars could go the way I needed them to go to pick up my baby. All I thought was; FUCK ME.

I had to walk a good 10 minutes down the road to find a place where the traffic was still moving freely to flag down my taxi. I thank every deity who is up there that I had the presence of mind to write down the actual address of the building and not just rely on giving  a general location. The taxi driver had no idea where I meant and had to program the address into his GPS. A few minutes later we were on the road!

When we got to the address, all I could see where these huge semis parked in front of a warehouse. This couldn't be right. My little kitty could not be in this loud, drafty place, could he? I went up to the loading dock and inquired about my cat. Turns out they had stashed him in the office.

All I can say is I am SO relieved I didn't wait until morning to get him. The breeder (who I am grateful to for providing me with the cutest kitty ever) is ...and I'm being very generous here, not the brightest crayon in the box. She had him stuffed into this little plastic pet carrier, half of which was filled with food and medicine (oh yeah, did I mention she shipped him even though he's ill?) so literally, he had about 6X5 inches to move in for almost 24 hours. He was also shut in with duct tape so that the transport guys couldn't open his carry case to give him food or water. The men, who were very kind, said they were so worried because he wouldn't stop crying and they were not allowed by company rules to open packages of customers. The one guy said if the kitten sounded really bad they would have called and asked me if they could open his carrier.

I carefully grabbed the carrier and flagged down a taxi to my house. When I got there I grabbed a big pair of kitchen scissors and spent about 10 minutes trying to free him. The breeder must have used a whole roll of tape on this carrier.

He emerged shell shocked (no doubt, after so much time being battered around in a car, spending time in weird offices and being starved) and nosedived into the food I'd put out.
I was worried about him freaking in the new house (unidentified human, weird location, no mum or siblings) so I left him to be quiet in the bathroom/genkan part of my apartment. Then the crying started. It was so loud, so piteous, so insistent, that I gave in and let him walk around the living room/bedroom too. He was much happier and I woke up with him sleeping at the foot of my bed, purring.

He has adjusted very well and eats and sleeps regularly (also, he is a defecational prodigy and uses the litter box like he's had the same one since he was born).

I present to you (after many harrowing experiences) Mochi!

Adieu, adieu, parting is such sweet sorrow. Haha, no it's not!

So next week will be my last week teaching here. It is now a time to reflect, to feel an overwhelming urge to not show up the next day (but you need to spoil the new kitty with many toys and the not so pleasant or cheap vet visits...so you keep going) and of course, to receive the obligatory gifts of leaving.

Gifts?

Why, yes! If you are a popular teacher (not to toot my own horn here but...who am I kidding? roootitoottoot!), you will without a doubt get gifts from the less stingy students you teach (and make no mistake, English students can be a stingy lot!).

These gifts can range from breathtaking souvenirs of Japan you can show your grandkids some day (hand-lacquered, gold dusted music box from Aizu, antique tea cup for tea ceremony, silk hair ornament for kimono wear) to useless crap you will throw away at the earliest time convenient (sumo wrestler hand towels, chopstick rests shaped like ugly fish, a studio portrait of your student holding their small lapdog, etc).

You will also get an indecent amount of food, mostly sweets, from the female students. I don't know how many times I've said in class that I was on a diet, but I still get box after box of chocolates, cookies, famous cakes, or local delicacies from such and such and so and so. While I appreciate the sentiment and expense (a lot of Japanese desserts are ridiculous in their pricing...check out any dessert section of department stores), it may be the very reason I have continued to slowly put on weight over the last 3 years.

The most interesting gift I received today was a plastic bag full of green leaves. "Thanks," I said. "But...what is it?" My student looked me proudly in the eye and said, "It's  ルッコラ (pronounced Rukkola)." I must have had a blank expression on my face because the student insisted I would know what it was. "You're part Italian, right? You know, Rukkola!" I wish I'd never mentioned my father's side is Italian because now I'm apparently an authority on regional Italian cuisine. Totally stumped,  I ended up looking it up online and all I saw was pictures of green stuff piled up on the top of pizzas or in a shallow bowl. Then a picture of a bunch of "Rukkola" with a plastic label caught my eye; under the katakana letters, in very fine print, was the word "Rocket." AHA! I know! Jamie Oliver always uses it! (sorry my Italian forefathers)

My haul of Rukkola!

I also got some very nice cookies from the Hotel de Suzuki (famous pastry shop in Tokyo with several locations). The student is a favorite of mine and this was the last time I could teach him (next week he will be absent for my last class), so I was touched he brought me something. Lovely, delicate little pretzel cookies awaited me. Continuing with the Italian theme, they tasted exactly like the crostoli cookies from the societa di caruso (Italian club) in my hometown. Man I have a hankering for some of their gnocchi or lasagna now.

My beautifully packaged cookies (appologies for the bad lighting since I took this with my cellphone):

I'm actually a little sad on behalf of the 5 students in the school I genuinely like and don't want to leave. If only the whole school was made up of teaching them exclusively, I might stay here for years. I hope the new guy is good to them. I also hope the other 95% of the school I dislike isn't too hard on him. He's not coming into an easy job here.

I may begin speaking in lolcats

My twisted, shriveled little heart may no longer be capable of bitter rants against Japan as it is no longer two sizes too small (a la Grinch who stole Christmas).

Yes, my heart has been transformed by a one month old ball of fluff that I officially adopted yesterday evening.

Behold the beauty that is my Scottish Fold kitten.

No names decided as of yet, but the current front runner is 栗 (kuri) since his light yellow markings on a white coat kinda looks like chestnut rice. Plus, he's got a round body and head. haha

He comes home to me next month when he reaches 12 weeks old.

The six degrees of Gaijin relationships

As someone who always likes to plan for the "what ifs" in life, I was pondering something that may be the most tactically difficult situation ever; cutting a friend out of your social network.

This all came about after a talk with a friend who was a little fed up with someone she knows. Her acquaintance is sometimes rude, childish, and an embarrassment to be out in public with. She asked me, "What would you do?"

This isn't an easy question to answer. Even in your home country cutting someone out can be tricky, and it's rendered even more difficult in Japan because we have such a small foreign community. If you haven't noticed on the trains by now, we are seriously outnumbered.

Let's talk a little bit about relationships in Japan.

Spending time with sexy Japanese people is nice and all, BUT sometimes you feel lonely for native English conversation. You want to chat with someone about Tim Horton's, or the Simpsons, or how George Strombolopoulus was the hottest thing to come out of Canadian TV. Eventually you want to be with someone who doesn't keep asking you to clarify cultural statements every two minutes.

There will come a day where through chance meetings, or even Internet assistance, you meet a few cool people in your area. Like osmosis, you then join their various groups of friends until you have quite a network going for you. Everyone is friends with at least one of your other friends.

Herein lies the dilemma; if you want to stop being friends with one of these people, what do you do? You're all related through this web. If you cut off one friend, the other mutual friends may take sides. And if you are the newest friend to the group, you may lose out to seniority.

Now, if you are a strategic planner, and kept all your groups of friends separate you may only need to cut about, say, 5 to 7 people from the net. If you made the rookie mistake of introducing them all, you may lose an entire friend system. This would be a tactical error of epic proportions since all those foreigners, by some method or other, know all the other foreigners in your area (think the 6 degrees of Kevin Bacon, but for foreigners in Japan). If you cut out the whole network of friends, you may be blacklisted and no other foreigner will have you. This is especially true in smaller cities.

Let's kick it up a notch, shall we?

You live in Tokyo, which has a population of approximately 12.369 million people. 353,826 of them are foreign residents, as of the 2005 census. Of those 353,826 foreigners, only 25,628 are native English speakers. Seems like a lot of numbers, doesn't it? You would think with over 25 thousand English speakers in Tokyo that meeting them would be a piece of cake, right? Wrong. Unless two of you are stuck waiting in the same line, sitting next to each other on a return flight from somewhere, or hook up through MySpace, you are shit out of luck because foreigners in Japan rarely acknowledge each others existence.

So, in reality the max amount of native speakers you will probably run into (including friends' networks) is more in the ballpark of about 1500 people. That may seem like quite enough people for anyone, but you still have to think of the six degrees of gaijin relationships. My theory is that every foreigner in Tokyo knows each other by approximately 6 degrees of separation. Friend A may not know friend K, but A will know K's friends H and B which means that indirectly they have a relationship with K.  If you cut K out of your network, you will lose all friends from A to J (possibly the whole alphabet), as well as any future relationships with their friends and acquaintances.

So, what to do?

Most people give up hope after considering the 6 degrees and just decide to put up with the annoying/backstabbing friend until one of them leaves the country. Others, in a banzai suicide bomber rush, cut out everyone and try to start afresh. The wisest people slowly put up a wall  between them and the offensive friend. They keep in contact less and less, using work or other social obligations as an excuse until that person is no longer a part of their lives. If you have a very large social network, this is an extremely satisfactory way of ridding yourself of the undesirable. Unfortunately, if your network is on the smaller side, other friends may rat you out unintentionally by mentioning that no, you aren't that busy and were in fact dancing on tables in Roppongi just the other night.

Here is my suggestion guide for limiting the effects of the six degrees of Gaijin relationships:

1) Be a naturally sweet person everyone loves and never fights with. Okay, this one is impossible for like, 90% of the earth's population so lets just move on.

2) Do not introduce one group of friends to another. First off, this doesn't even work well in your home country. Different groups share different interests and bringing them all together can blow up in your face. Just because we all live in Japan, doesn't mean we came here for the same reasons.

3) Try not to majorly offend anyone. If someone is out on the hunt for your head, it will be harder to avoid them.

4) Don't assume that just because Tokyo is huge, you won't run into people you dislike. If someone was an ex-friend, they know your hunting grounds. They will run into you eventually.

5) Don't have a MySpace page, or at least don't update it with what you're doing or where you are. MySpace stalkers will use it as a tool to track you down.

6) If you have a blog, don't get too detailed when talking about people. If you have an irritating friend, having them read through your blog that you dislike them won't make it easier to faze them out. You will just open up a big can of shit disturbing that you will have to deal with later.

7) Learn Japanese and just start hanging out with Japanese friends more. You will have the added bonus of more insight into a foreign culture as well as a much, much larger network where the six degrees no longer apply. 

Those seven steps should help with the damage control in times of trouble. If all else fails, I hear teaching English in Korea's quite profitable these days. Maybe you should consider moving there?

Wedding fever and Yakuza diamond shops

So I wrote this REALLY long blog about wedding fever in Japan and the whole mob mentality about it...but it was kind of sarcastic and "I hate Japan"-ish, so I erased it. Besides I want to marry the boyfriend, so if I rail about marriage I come off as a bit of a hypocrite, don't I?

Instead, I'm going to write about my humorous/scary experience in Ginza.

On the weekend, the boyfriend and I made the long awaited trip to Tiffany's. The pretense was that we wanted to see the famous "Heart of New York" diamond and scoff at the prices, but we both knew we were there for one reason and one reason only; to see the engagement rings.

I must say, I now get the reason Tiffany's is so famous for it's quality. The diamonds practically threw rainbows at us every time we moved along the display cases. They were dazzling. And the prices, while higher than Canada, were not so bad.

I (not so subtlety) pointed out the ring I wanted (princess cut, platinum setting for those who are interested), and once the boyfriend had made note, we left the store.

Ginza's shopping area is closed to traffic on Sundays, so the boyfriend and I decided to stroll along and browse. I spotted a store not far from Tiffany's that had a Christmas sale sign up, so we wandered over. It was a jewelery store that specializes in diamonds, especially engagement rings. Oops. =P

We walked in the door and were soon greeted by a school of sharks, um, I mean sales staff. They rushed me and asked if we were looking for an engagement ring. I tried the ol' "just looking" line, but they were having none of it. Suddenly we were being ushered with alarming speed into the basement of the store. The boyfriend grabbed my hand and we both wondered the same thing, "Is this some kind of crime ring? Are we about to be kidnapped? Is this a Yakuza diamond shop?"

Disgusting

I kind of wrote a similar post about this before (relating to the boyfriend and I), but I get so tired of all the bullshit I read about Japanese men who are dating/married to foreign women that I wanted to address it a little more in depth. I can only apologize in advance for the long rant form this post takes. My emotions overcame me.

I thought I would do a little research on the Internet and used google (both the Japanese and Canadian versions) to see what would pop up under the words "Japanese men foreign women". It was disgusting.

About 90% of the sites dealt with two things: the high divorce rate between Japanese men and foreign women, and what bastards Japanese men are.

Is there a small group of bitter, foreign women out there who wrote these pages?

The misconceptions that are littering the Internet are so stupid. And what's worse, people are just repeating these ideas without any basis of experience. It's all things like "I heard Japanese men are...." or "A friend of a friend once dated a Japanese guy and..."

How about writing something you actually know from PERSONAL EXPERIENCE?

Let me clear up a few things....

Myth: Japanese men aren't interested in foreign women.
Truth: Many men ARE interested in foreign women. A lot of the time they are shy, worried that you don't speak Japanese, or think you may not be interested in them. If you are, go speak to the boys! They may be too shy to approach you without some encouragement. Make eye contact, give them a smile and you will get results.