What a cute water fountain! Wait... it's a WHAT?!

So you've enjoyed the sights and sounds. You've enjoyed learning about the history. You even have eaten your share of Japanese food at a tabehodai (all-you-can-eat) and chased it down with nomihodai (all-you-can-drink) at your local izakaya. It is time to visit the porcelain throne.

To pee or not to pee, that is the question. When nature calls, whether you are in Tokyo or in your home country, sometimes waiting is not a pleasant experience. But be fore warned. If there is a long line and you get motioned around people to go ahead of them, you may be ushered into the often only open stall... the one with the Japanese style toilet. What we gaijin refer to as "the squatter" because that's what you have to do; squat.        

     Better have those thigh muscles toned because not all of them have handles at the right height for you to grip and not fall over. Even most natives will try to avoid them if they can so if they let you cut around them in line, that may be why. You can do it if you must, its really not as hard as it looks, but be prepared to be intimidated at first. Things I learned quickly that you may want to know before hand: face TOWARD the hood/pipes/toilet paper, if you're wearing pants you should hike them up to avoid splashes, if you have long hair like myself you should not bend your head down to make sure you're not splashing, and aim for the center of the trough. 

     If you are lucky enough to have the Japanese version of the Western toilet with all the fancy bells, whistles, massage seats, blow driers, bidet, and deodorizer enjoy it. Take that puppy out for a test drive. As they all can very in amenities and button placement I can't give too much definitive advice on them. All I can say is when I first used one on my very first trip to Tokyo, after a very long 13 hour flight, when I woke up in the middle of the night to use it I just about freaked when I sat down and the seat was hot. In my haze I though that someone had been in my room and using my toilet (a'la Goldilocks and the Three Bears) moments before me, hence the hot seat, so it took me aback a moment until I woke up a bit more. Other than that, I quickly fell in love with these Japanese versions of Western toilets. 

Here is a picture of my own porcelain throne at home with its bells, handwashing station, UV/LED lights, whistles, and heating seat. 

Homesickness is not for chumps. It WILL happen.

Something people often warn you about when relocating to live in a foreign country is homesickness. For those of us who consider ourselves rather independent, emotionally strong, stoic, or even too in love with the new country's culture to miss our own be prepared for your "Pfft" and scoff to crumble.
     Homesickness is a real thing and it even happens to the best of us. Even the strongest can become weak when the wind blows just the right way or you have an off day. Any little reason like missing your train, taking a few extra seconds at the conbini counter because you are having problems counting out exact change, having to wait longer for the Western toilet, got caught rubbing your wooden chopsticks together (see last blog), etc can cause you to remember things fondly back home. An iMessage, email, FB post or something a friend or family member back home sends you could be the undoing of your composure. Especially if it has a pic. Or a video... verklempt. 
     My picture above was sent to me by my brother, Beau. It is a picture of two of my greatest loves, my niece Pippa and my cat Keats (aka Gumiho, aka, D.O.). They were just having a normal dinner barbecuing in the backyard and snapped a quick pic to send to me. When I got it on a Thursday morning with a message that said "Pippi is stealing your cat from you." I was a great big ball of emotions all day. I loved it was happy, sad, jealous, lonely, excited, cray-cray-crazy all day that day. Japan, I love you and all the cool things you give me, but you don't have my Pip and Kee.

Those are not large toothpicks, Billy-Ray Joe-Bob.

When I was very young my aunt used to call me Helen Keller because I would eat with my hands, like I was raised by wolves. Thank goodness my family nipped that behavior in the bud because nothing can ruin a good meal like bad table manners. (Yeah I'm looking at you people who chew with their mouths open and smack their lips.)

     Here in Japan having good table manners includes learning how to properly use hashi (chopsticks). If you haven't mastered it before you get here don't worry too much as it will be pointed out to you occasionally. While you can find the usual forks, spoons, and knives here to help you eat more comfortably, there is just something cool about eating with chopsticks. Plus once you get the hang of them you realize just how convenient they really are. 

     Although they don't mean to insult you, often at convenient restaurants they may ask if you would like a spoon or a fork. Don't worry they really don't mean to impugn you, they just want you to be comfortable. For those of us with the chops to use chopsticks punny it can hurt our feelers though. So by the time I hoist my hashi out of the hopper I'm ready to astound them with my skills. Okay, maybe not so much skill, per say, but at least decent ability. 

     While here I have noticed some of my gaijin comrades doing some major chopstick no-no's that make me blanch when I see them. So please take not of these words of advice if you plan on using chopsticks here:

     *Please do NOT rub the chopsticks together when you break them apart to sand down the sides. It implies that you think their chopsticks are of low quality and can insult the hosts.

     *Please do NOT pick your teeth with the chopsticks or bite the ends of them.

     *Please do NOT put them in your hair. If you wouldn't do it with a spoon or fork, don't do it with hashi.

     *Please do NOT place them on the top of your bowl. Rather, if a chopstick post is given rest them on it, dirty parts in the air. If not, fold the paper they cam in and use it as a rest.

Okay, now you are ready so lets get to eating with them! 

Everybody is somebody so who are you?

Everyone on this planet of ours has value whether we see it or not. Everyone has a tale, and everyone knows at least one thing we do not. The poet Emily Dickinson once wrote "I'm nobody! Who are you? Are you - Nobody - too?" Although it sounds quite harsh in its word selection, the poem serves to illustrate that we all have the feeling of being outsiders to some extent. Living in a big city like Tokyo where I quite noticeably don't fit in I can relate to that feeling. I may quite obviously be an outsider based on being gaijin (outside person, green eyed white devil in my case) but I Imagine many others here who are not gaijin may also feel that way from time to time. 
     In Japanese culture, when meeting people and allowing them into an circle of familiarity or acquaintance, it is important not only to know their name but also the company they work for, position, their age, and sometimes even where they come from. To outsiders of the Western variety this may seem to be somewhat intrusive. Akin to asking someone their net-worth, savings account & ATM pin number, underwear size, date of their last period, or how much they weigh! 
     But this is by no means the reason Japanese ask this question. Rather it is so that they can figure out what degree of honor and respect they need to show you. Make no mistake it will almost always be much above the one they assign their own, but they want to make sure you are given your due laud. But before you scoff at the idea of treating people differenntly you must admit there is a difference in the way you would greet a chum, a professor, a President, Queen Elizabeth or the Pope. Otherwise, the next time someone not in your usual circle of pals comes over to your house I dare you to not clean your home. 
     Japan is a very hierarchical structured society which can be quite different from the horizontal one most of us Westerners are used to. But it works here beautifully. Even among peers they like to ascertain who is the oldest, in order, down the line to the youngest so that everyone can find the harmony to interact comfortably with each other. This is part of the reason why their business cards have so much information on them and why almost everyone (save maybe children) have them. 
     When meeting someone it is customary to exchange these business cards called meishi so that people can easily remember each other's names and to which groups they belong. There is even a cultured practice in the way you exchange them in a group of people. Also, if you receive one, accept it with both hands if possible and do not put it directly into your pocket. Keep it where you can see it and treat it with respect. 

Why yes please, I'd love another A with a side of gaman.

Addictions and vices can be quite tricky for some people and prove outright disastrous for others. I've considered myself rather fortunate to have avoided acquiring any nasty ones. Rather, I'm more possessing of the type of vice of giving an 'inappropriate naught joke from time to time' type of person. Innuendos are everywhere. I never in a million years would have believed myself to be one of those overachieving, studious types who put her everything into her work. Now that's not to say I haven't tried my hardest in the past, or have sacrificed to do well. But here in Japan for some reason I have found it in me to abscond from social events just to spend extra time perfecting my work for school. Let me repeat for those who know me and may have allowed themselves to believe their eyes to have just lied to them : Allyson in Japan puts school above all else including travelling and spending time with friends.
     There is just something about being here and observing the care and dedication the majority of Tokyoites put into their work that has rubbed off on me. Thanks to my mom's diligent and unceasing work-ethic I have inherited said ethic and have been in possession, for as long as I can remember, the dedication to things which help pay the bills. I am the gal who goes to work regardless of illness, injury, migraine, headache, GI distress, stress, anxiety, lack of sleep, no sleep, hangover, come what may.  However, school hasn't always been one of those things that work-ethic spilled over into historically. However since I have been here and committed to seeing this scholastic endeavor through to the end I have put all my effort in to it. And... it has been paying off. 
     I wonder if I am addicted to getting A's; of the respect from others and myself of an unquestionable job well done. I really think the perseverance and dedication of the sarariiman and Office Ladies walking in heels braving the rain, snow, and over packed trains each day to commute to work, putting in more than human hours of overtime has rubbed off on me in a very positive way. Also, I wonder if knowing how much my family has sacrificed to help get me where I am is a part of it? Japanese tend to have a more concern and respect for the people in their in-circles who depend on them for doing their best... Have I inherited the Japanese gaman?

(Wikipedia defines it:"gaman(我慢^?) is a Japanese term of Zen Buddhist origin which means "enduring the seemingly unbearable with patience and dignity".^[1] The term is generally translated as "perseverance", "patience", tolerance, or "self-denial".^[2] A related term, gamanzuyoi (我慢強い gaman-tsuyoi^?), a compound with tsuyoi (strong), means "suffering the unbearable" or having a high capacity for a kind of stoic endurance.^[3]

Gaman is variously described as a "law,"^[4] a "virtue,"^[5] an "ethos,"^[6] a "trait,"^[7] etc. It means to do one's best in distressed times and to maintain self-control and discipline.)

Italy... by way of Tokyo? You don't say.

And on that note, lets keep the food bolus moving!

Food culture in Japan is like no other place. Chef, cooks, and food servers here take great pride in their work to make sure food is not only flavorful & delicious and well portioned, hello waistline but also beautifully prepared or plated. Whether you are buying food from an outdoor food cart at a matsuri (festival), stopping into a standing ramen shop, or purchasing a quick bite at the nearest conbini (convenience store) you can be sure that your food will be good and look 'good enough to eat', pardon the pun. (Sorry, not sorry.)

     So, you may ask yourself what does that have to do with my mention of Italy in the title? Well, i took those pictures of some delicious Italian food on Christmas Evening while dining at my firends' home, the Kikuchi family. Mr. Kikuchi had arranged for Chef Ochiai (of La Bettola di Ochiai fame) to prepare an amazing dinner for us. Now everyone who really knows me knows how much I love Italian food. In the words of Shakira, my hips don't lie. Especially when it comes to carbs like pasta. I can say with all honesty that yet again what I ate in the company of the Kikuchi family was the best Italian food I have ever enjoyed. Ever. And I have eaten a lot. Because we were able to have the dinner in the lovely Kikuchi home I got to help plate things for us so they were probably more quaint looking than the food would be in the restaurant due to my untrained hand's un-platewortiness. But none the less it was another culinary trip to heaven. Who would have though I would taste the excellent perfection of Italian food in Japan? 

Sushi by any other name would not taste as sweet.

"Now THIS is what I'm talking about!"

If someone were to ask me today if I'd like to get some sushi, the picture collage above of photos I took this fall is exactly the stuff I would have in mind.

     Having been living in Tokyo now since early January 2014 I have come to appreciate what real sushi takes like. I'm not talking about my former San Diego gal mindset of a various California rolls, uniquely constructed or deconstructed in "Asian-fusion", with all sorts of different things on top. (Although those are nice and I wouldn't turn them down if I was starving.) Thanks to a friend of mine, I was lucky enough to meet some great guys who own a sushi restaurant in Nishiazabu. This business has been in operation for over 30 years and you can taste the love and experience in every wonderful serving of their sushi. 

     Theirs is not the average sushi. Rather, it is great leaps and gigantic bounds above the average decent sushi even by Japan's strict standards. It is HEAVEN! We are talking some serious, top notch, high quality sushi fit for royalty. I consider myself quite fortunate to have had the opportunity to dine there several times and each time was culinary treat of amazing proportions, likened to a truly religious dining experience. Sushi Kan is the stuff of Bucket List necessity. Everyone should make the effort necessary to eat there at least once in their life. 

     However I have become jinxed! My taste buds once awakened to perfection can not be satiated. Now whenever I eat sushi in Tokyo not only does it not measure to the wonders that were Sushi Kan, they don't even deserve to be mentioned on the same page, book, or even library for that matter~ Once I am back in the states, visiting (or living or what have you) how will I ever be able to eat sushi there? How can one eat swill once they have tasted the heavenly manna of the gods? Nothing will ever taste as good again, most certainly not the hybridized California rolls my home has to offer as its version of sushi...