Another day in paradise - Culture shock, cockroaches, sweaty crowds and beds of roses

Everything shifts, all the time. Language is amorphous and ever-changing, so are the economics and so is the culture. It should come as no surprise that the residual effect is a dynamic yet unstably predictable slew of moods I find myself in each day. I don't know if I believe in bad days anymore, there are too many things can happen in a mere 24 hours. I do believe in the value of time, and a certain friend of mine said the other day he had an "out-date," a.k.a. a set time in mind when he was going to leave Japan. I was a little saddened to hear this as he's one of the few really cool people I've met here, but was of course supportive of his plans to move on, get a real career, etc.. More importantly, this bit of news he followed up with: "Having a set date in mind makes the time more enjoyable, if that makes any sense."

To me, it makes a world of sense. A galaxy, nay, a cosmos of freakin' sense. Goals are important, although mine aren't necessarily temporal (it's old news but as a refresher: learn Japanese as best as I can, help F.I.D. take over the world with grindcore, have fun, etc). In any regard I have never been content staying in one place or doing one set thing for too long, with possibly only 2 exceptions: reading and playing music. And even with these, I burnt out at times, went into slumps, got fed up with them - too much of anything is never a good thing, as the old proverb goes. Have I yet taken in too much Japan?

The answer is a bit counter-intuitive. I would describe my experience in Japan so far in the following chronological way: Seeing everything as surreal, followed by a splash of cold water in the face, followed by adjustment, followed by acceptance. My 4-step program, if you will.

Now there's this thing they call culture shock, but I don't think it's defined correctly. Note:

"culture shock: the feeling of disorientation experienced by someone who is suddenly subjected to an unfamiliar culture, way of life, or set of attitudes."

What's wrong here is the word "suddenly." True, culture shock hits you when you first come to a new place, but it's residual effects are comparable to those who try and quit smoking. At first one has undeterred confidence in their ability to overcome, followed by waves of desire for going back to old habits. That's a lot like my experience of culture shock. Some days are lollipops and neon lights (perhaps better described as yogurt-flavored candy and squid strips), while others i feel the city grinding me down as a whole, just scraping slowly away at my humanity, to risk sounding a trifle over-dramatic. My buddy over at the The Ghost Letters has blogged about this latter phenomenon quite a bit, and it's something anyone in any big city must go through: feeling isolated, getting fed up with the crowds and whatnot. The main difference is that everything here feels like it hits an extremity...

Life in Japan is everything to the max. The colors are brighter, the gadgets shinier, the lights blink faster and the silly humans all squeeze in to make their way, everything going 100 miles a minute. I'm not used to it, I'm getting used to it; some days it feels normal and some day it feels like the veritable equivalent of walking around mars with my helmet off, Total Recall style. For instance, I saw a dude bitching out the station attendant for a late train the other day. He was a young salary man, obviously in a hurry and upset by the late trains. He kept saying things along the lines of (and I'm translating faithfully here): "I'm not fucking around! Do you think I'm kidding here? This train cannot be late, do something, seriously!" While the station attendant apologized repeatedly and profusely, bowing all the while. Thie is a prime example of what one would never see in the New York area: a slave to public transportation venting his anger out on a station attendant who can't do anything, the guy obviously catching flak for a problem he didn't cause, and still maintaining a "the customer is always right" mentality (also known as okyakusama ga kamisama, translation "the customer is god"). I think if you pulled that at Amtrak in Rensselaer, NY, the staff would just laugh at you.

But enough with all that stuff. Moving on. I had a somewhat rocky week, with construction beginning at 8am on Thursday morning keeping me a awake and forcing me to run on low batteries all day. Then I made the terrible mistake of going out Thursday night, getting woken up by the clings and clangs and hollers of construction workers after staying up until 2am, and subsequently feeling a little burnt out for my kids class that day. The real kicker of all this is there was a sign put up just this week, bi-lingual, saying in English: "we will be painting from March 6, sorry for the inconvenience." This was rather deceiving, as it not only began on March 5, but when I later looked at Japanese closer, the characters for "construction" were explicitly stated.

I was better prepared today but still missed sleeping in until 9 or 10 like normal. I tried asking one of the constructoin workers if they would be working on Sunday as well, and he gave me a run-around answer along the lines of "we're working until it's finished," if I understood him correctly. Maybe I didn't. Irregardless, the dude had half inch forests of nose-hairs coming out of his shnoz, and I can live without ever seeing that again, ever.

Work was a breeze, only a couple classes at my favorite school, all the students were animated and a pleasure to teach. Note: this was the exact opposite of an incredibly awkward and painful day I had earlier this week in Shinjuku. I taught a dude today who was on a plane to Vegas when the Twin Towers fell; he said they re-routed him to Vancouver and that when he finally made it to Vegas, everything was just shut down. No lights, no casinos, just desert and dead bulbs. Wild. Another student said he tried to watch Star Wars without Japanese subtitles, and he did fine except that he couldn't understand Yoda! I had to of course explain that Yoda says everything completely backwards, and hence has terrible grammar!

I was thanked several time for being generally helpful today, which always makes me feel good. I've never felt so appreciated in any line of work in the past as I often am at this job. I feel that of all the teachers that come through, a small amount really want to give it their all every time, and not to brag, but when I do something I do it right. I don't like half-assing anything. So, that made me feel good. The staff at that school are also becoming good friends of mine, and I'm crossing my fingers and toes that I'll have a set day there as of April on my next contract, as I'm only there once or twice a month as of now.

Today I came home and what's the first thing I see? A cockroach scurrying up my wall. I try and calm myself down but the overwhelming revulsion I feel for the thing is almost nauseating; I never had to deal with these guys back home, although house centipedes were another matter altogether. Fact of the matter is they both creep me out as much as anything possibly can.

I mustered up the stomach and slammed an old hard-cover copy of One Thousand Leagues Under the Sea (sorry Vernes) into the little bastard. It fell in the corner of my room, next to my bed in a corner of shoes and belts. I decided I had to move my bed and do some hardcore cleaning to get whatever putrid rice crumbs I had let find there way there for little dudes like this to much on (not to mention go buy some bug spray the next day). I proceeded to move my bed, poked at the shoey-belty-corner with an umbrella, and sure enough the little fucker comes sidling out on the wall apparently undamaged. I throw the book at him, my heart leaping out of my chest, and still see him scurry away after being apparently flattened, and into my shoe to boot!

That was it.

I flipped my shoe with the umbrella and he scurried behind the book. I kicked that book so furiously that the neighbors must have thought I was having a domestic dispute with myself, and finally it was over. I spent the next 3 hours cleaning up and working around all the crap I'd been putting off for so long. I watched Blazing Saddles for the umpteenth time while I cleaned, ate some pizza toast and felt inspired to pour out all of this you're reading. So in the end, it really was a good day, on the whole.

As I said at the beginning, things change constantly. Nothing is ever set, it just appears that way.