- kotatsu
A kotatsu is a low, heated table with a removeable top so you can drape blankets over it. When I'm back in the States, I will search high and low for one until I get my hands on it, and if I can't find one I will figure out how to make one. What does a person need central heating for when they can wrap up in blankets like a burrito and stick their feet under a heated table? My feet are usually the only part of me that get cold, and a kotatsu is so effective at keeping them warm. - removing shoes before going in the house
I've gone from "Eh, I don't wanna take them off just to get that one little thing on the kitchen counter" to being scandalized at the thought of walking through my own house in my "outdoor" shoes. The other day I followed a teacher outside while we were both wearing our indoor shoes and I was internally cringing. If I ever work in an American public school, it's going to drive me nuts wearing my outdoor shoes into the building. - hot water heater
Americans do not have the tea obsession that some countries have, and so it's not common for Americans to have an appliance in their house that is specifically for the sake of heating water. We've got hot water from the tap, and if we really want something steaming, well, there's a microwave, isn't there? Since moving to Japan and buying a water heater of my own, I've been converted. There is now a difference to me between tap or microwaved hot water and hot water that was boiled in the heater. I can't even explain it. There just is. - bowing
I'm going to bow at people when I get back to the States, I know it. Whether I notice it or not remains to be seen. I've gotten really used to bowing as being a catch-all gesture of deference, and it's kind of comforting to have a gesture that indicates humble courtesy and respect. I give a little bow when I say "sumimasen" (excuse me), when I greet and give farewells to my co-workers, when I talk on the phone to Japanese people. - the peace sign
The truth of Japanese people throwing up a peace sign for every picture is not even a stereotype, it's an observable fact. And I really love it. Because I hate getting my picture taken. Hate it. I hate smiling for pictures, I hate posing for them, I hate the way my hair and clothes and body proportions look in them. I almost universally hate any picture taken of me that's not a selfie. (And even then there are duds.) But the peace sign solves one of my major problems: what pose to make when someone aims a camera at me. Do I give someone bunny ears? Do I wave? Do I hunch? Do I jump in the air and hope it doesn't look stupid? No. I make a peace sign, and arrange it somewhere near my face. Problem fucking solved. - a million and one tea cups
Raise you're hand if you'll be surprised when I come home with half my body weight in Japanese ceramics. - sleeping on the floor
Even back in the States, I dismantled my bed frame and piled the mattresses on the floor, and then slept on them that way. I loved it. Here in Japan, I sleep on two foam mattresses under a futon, and I love it. I'll probably sleep on the floor when I go back home, too. Also, bonus: it's cooler down there in the summer. - soba
If I can't find the ingredients to make soba when I get back to the States it's gonna break my heart because soba now ranks up there with Italian pasta and cheese. - kawaii everywhere
If it can be made cute, somewhere in Japan, it has been. There are stores called zakka that just sell adorable home goods that have been personalized within an inch of their life, so that if you want, literally every aspect of your life--from the chopsticks you eat with to the notepaper you write on--can be imbued with some kind of charm and personality. My city, Mito, has an official mascot that is a natto bean with hair and clothes named Mito-chan. I cannot make this shit up. It's fantastic. - calling the US 'America'The word for The United States in Japanese is アメリカ or "amerika," which is exactly what it looks like. I can't tell people I'm from "The States" or "The US," so I say I'm from "amerika." When talking to other foreigners, I'll still say I'm from America. I honestly don't know which I'm supposed to call it when talking to people anymore.
- public transit
With the exception of small pockets of sensibility like Chicago and New York City, the majority of America has shitty public transit compared with a lot of places. Taipei city had bus stops almost literally every hundred feet in some places. The subway system was a place of magic, and the land trains literally circled the entire island, going both ways, so you could get pretty much anywhere without trouble. Japan is the same. There are local buses that go through the towns, and highway buses that go between prefectures. There are local train systems, regional train systems, and the shinkansen bullet train that'll take you pretty much anywhere, and fast. I remember being back in the States after being in Taipei. It sucked. It sucked really bad. Hitachinaka is pretty much the exact same as Columbus, Ohio, except we're spread out in the suburbs and it's pretty much impossible to get anywhere without a car. I'll probably move back to Ohio, because family, but man, it's nice to just take the train or the bus when you don't wanna drive. - the weather
It's June right now, which is called tsuyu or the rainy season in Japan, because it rains all the time. Here in Mito we're averaging 75-77 degrees during the day, with some mugginess. You know what the temperatures are in Ohio right now? Smack in the 80s. Ohio's been hotter than Japan for about a month now, and you know what, I'm kinda fine with that. It feels like spring has extended all the way into June. I mean, sure, we'll hit July and it'll be like a sauna and because the Japanese government wants schools to conserve energy we won't be turning on our A/C units like at all, but aside from that, the weather's not bad. Spring is a pleasant explosion of flowers. Fall is mild. Winter isn't nearly as bone-chilling as it is in Ohio. Hitachinaka gets four seasons but it doesn't go overboard about it, and I appreciate that. I'm going to miss this sensible weather when I go back to the land of ice, snow, and snowstorms in goddamn April, what the hell, Ohio. - shrines
Shinto shrines are an unobstructive part of Japanese life. People visit shrines for major holidays, such as New Year's, but they visit them casually, too. It's such a quick and easy thing to do, going to a shrine, tossing a coin into the collection box, and saying a little prayer for whatever it is you want. I mostly go to shrines because I feel like it, sort of a way to renew my own commitments to staying strong and hardworking and dedicated to whatever tasks going on in my life at that time. I don't know if anyone's listening, but for me that's not really the point. There's no pressure in visiting a shrine; visiting one is a personal experience of peace and relaxation. In comparison, I've always felt like going to church was like taking a test; all these people to converse with before and after the service, and all these inquiries: Do you have a job? What job? Do you have your own place? Are you dating? What have you achieved with your life since we last saw you? How well can you pass for a heterosexual female who never talks about feminism, or heteronormativity, or white privilege, or rape culture? Please, talk about yourself, but not so much that your honesty makes people uncomfortable.
Shinto shrines don't put me through that. They're just nice, quiet spaces where natural serenity is sacred and everyone is there to have their own personal spiritual experience, not to bother everyone else about theirs. It's public introvert space, and it's glorious.
Japan the second year 'round is proving to be just as fascinating as it was the first year, but without all the stress of being bombarded with it all at once. I understand a lot more now. I know where to find things, how to spend my money, how to read some major kanji, and my brain is getting a lot better at retaining Japanese. I'm starting to learn grammar from listening to my kids and the teachers in the teacher's room, although a formal class would probably help me get farther faster. Japan's not as terrifying in its newness as it was last March, or April, or even June. I'm in a much better apartment, and I feel less like a frightened child and more like an competent, able adult. My biggest fear in the world is that I'll go back to the States and have to start all that from scratch, or find that I can't make this kind of living there. I've never been a financially stable adult in the States, only abroad. I've never felt like a professional woman with a career in the States, only in Taiwan and Japan.
Hopefully my time in Japan (and Taiwan) will give me the leg up I need to keep being a successful adult when I finally (whenever that is) return to America.
