Hunkabutta Archives
05.06.03

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Every morning when I go to school I take the elevator down from my apartment on the ninth floor to the lobby. This morning when I got into the elevator a woman living on one of the upper floors was already in there. We rode down together in silence.

Like pretty much everybody else around here, we were both heading to the train station. We stepped out of the elevator together and walked in sync out the back doors, not looking at each other, and together we emerged on to the long, straight walkway that leads to the station. Our unintentional companionship was starting to get awkward, but we were both walking at the same pace, in the same direction, with the same destination. What could we do?

Then she did something kind of funny, but actually kind of typical for Tokyo: She burst into a sprint, as if suddenly realizing that she was late for an appointment, and moved ahead of me about 10 meters before resuming her normal gate.

I've seen this kind of 'awkward-moment-sprinting' a lot before, usually on my way home from the station late at night.

Typically, the person is coming up from behind me and wants to pass, but because their pace is only just a little bit faster then mine it would take them thirty or forty seconds to actually do it. So, what they do is walk right up to my back and then suddenly burst into a run until they are, again, about 10 meters ahead of me.

I let that woman from the elevator get to the station long before I did. I didn't meet her again. However, I'm thinking that if this same thing happens again tomorrow morning, then I'll sprint along beside her, just to see what she'll do.

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05.03.03

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I think that I told you already that Karen and I have been going out these past few days with our friends Jay and Theo -- they're visiting Tokyo. We went out to dinner two nights ago to an Indian place (because Zakuro, the Turkish/Persian restaurant, was all booked up), and Karen went out dancing with them and some other friends last night.

Since Jay and Theo have come I've found myself doing something that I haven't done much of in a long while: drink beer. More specifically, drink Japanese beer. And you know, I've come to a surprising conclusion: it's not half bad. Believe it or not, it tastes almost exactly like Canadian beer. I know that that's not saying much, Canadian beer is nothing to jump up and down about, but it's what I'm used to I suppose.

Usually when I go out in Tokyo I end up at an Irish pub -- I love pubs. I love the mood, I love the (live) music, and, unfortunately for my wallet, I love Irish and British beer. A pint costs almost 1000 yen (CAN$12.00).

However, lately I've been finding the Japanese brew a bit more palatable, which is good because it's a lot cheaper. I used to be a Sapporo kind of guy, but I've slowly started to move over to the Kirin Ichiban camp.

We've made reservations for tomorrow night at Zakuro. This time there's no getting away from the gorge fest. And I suppose we'll be having a few glasses of Kirin to wash it all down with.

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04.30.03

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We spent a pleasant afternoon yesterday wandering around the stalls at a local festival. They had hotdogs and pizza, children's games and pudgy, sunburnt housewives by the dozen. It felt just like home. It was held on the playing field at the community sports center. I'm not sure what the occasion was -- it could possibly be 'little boys day'. See today's pictures.

Tomorrow night our friend Beccy is going to babysit Jack, then Karen and I, and our visiting friends Jay and Theo, will be gorging ourselves immobile at our favorite restaurant in Tokyo: the Persian/Turkish stuffing ground known as Zakuro.

I can't wait.

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All that I ever hear anymore from people when I tell them that I'm Canadian is, "Oh! Gasp, Canadian, eh? Really tough with all that SARS there," as they nervously step away.

That's why, even though I live thousands of miles away, I am relieved that the WHO has dropped its travel advisory on Toronto.

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04.27.03

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Living in Japan, where people prize tact and decorum above all things, there are times when I feel like a lumbering long-nosed brute. I seem to plod along awkwardly through one social situation after another. Then there are times when I feel quite the opposite. Sometimes it feels like my relative forthrightness and candor empower me and lift me up above the stuffy confines of rigid Japanese social behavior.

Japanese people are themselves quite conscious of the difference between their social norms and those of Westerners. A Japanese friend of mine once summed it up nicely by saying, "Westerners just don't care what other people think of them." This may not seem true to you if you live in the West, but trust me, by Japanese standards we don't really care what others are thinking.

I'll give you an example situation. Today I conducted a wedding in a bridal salon that was a renovated European-style family mansion in the heart of Tokyo. A very beautiful place, it was surrounded by large trees and had three floors.

The choir members (three girls) and I were told that we could use a small room in the attic as a dressing room. It was nice enough, a few tables, a window, some boxes of printing paper, but it didn't have any chairs. As usual, we were really early for the wedding, so we were going to have to stand there for about 45 minutes. I didn't want to do that, and I know the girls didn't either, so I had a peek around and noticed that there was an old padded bench half-hidden in a little storage closet. Well, in about two seconds I hauled it out and quite proudly sat down upon it and invited everyone else to join me.

My invitation was greeted with giggles, gasps, and disbelief. They couldn't believe that I just went and moved the bench. They kept saying in Japanese, "Oh my God, only a foreigner could do something so bold like that." I really don't know what the big deal was, but they acted like I had just had sex with the salon owner's wife or something. I kept thinking to myself, "It's only a bench for God's sake."

However, I suppose the girls interpreted things a little differently. Japanese people always seem to be communicating in hints. I'm guessing that by getting my own seat, I sent a message to the bridal salon staff saying that they were bad hosts for not providing us with seats in the first place. And furthermore, the company that we work for was contracted out by the salon, so we were kind of like paid employees and really should have been walking on egg shells.

As I sit here and think about it, I realize that I don't have too many problems with this kind of thing anymore. For the most part, I can usually stop the bull that is my Western personality from running through the china shop that is Japanese social decorum. Of course, I still screw up now and again. However, I just try to focus on the empowering feelings, and try not to step on too many toes along the way.

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