One of those Japanese experiences that doesn’t get old for me, even after a decade: going out for sushi. And for budget minded folks like us that means kaitenzushi (回転寿司, conveyor belt sushi). So today we walked to our favorite kaitenzushi spot here in Sapporo, Toriton (トリトン). It’s a medium sized chain that is very popular.
Always crowded at Toriton
Of course, getting a seat at this place can take a while. Like most Japanese restaurants, reservations aren’t taken. On this particular Saturday the wait was looking to be well over an hour.
Unlike most Japanese who gladly wait in lines that wrap around the block, I don’t play that shit. So we went to the take-out counter, where there was zero wait, and decided to enjoy our sushi at our own abode.
Funny thing is that the take-out counter works no differently than that of a normal counter seat. Dishes roll by, you grab what you like, but then transfer the sushi to plastic containers. When you got everything you need the staff count the color and amount of plates you’ve accumulated and tally your bill. The whole process is rather seamless.
We went a little over budget
True, you might not get the full sushi experience by packing up your nigiri in a doggy bag and rolling out the door in 10 minutes. But I enjoyed a comfortable meal with some AccuRadio Christmas tunes, a cheap happoshu beer, and a newly trimmed schnoodle by my side.
Each Friday evening, after spending a rather mind numbing week at work, I like to unwind with a drink or two of my choosing. Recently, I have been a fan of the chu-hai, usually the higher alcohol content varieties. A new favorite is a hybrid vodka chu-hai called 99.99 or フォーナイン. (four nine) It does the trick reasonably well.
No idea what this English description means, but it sure tastes good!
But if you really want to get creative, and save some hard earned Yen, here is the recipe:
Buy your shochu in bulk. I prefer the liter bag varieties found in most supermarkets. Get a few liters of soda water. And finally, stock up on some Korean fruit vinegar (pomegranate, green apple, muskat!), which can be found at import stores like Kaldi, Jupiter, and Costco.
Shochu in a bag, Korean fruit vinegar, and some soda water. Good times!
Take 2 parts soda water, 1 part shochu. Add a splash of fruit vinegar, and enjoy (on the rocks is best). You really can’t go wrong.
The one and only thing Japan does well in regards to their school system is school lunch (給食, kyushoku). Each day, for a very reduced fee, elementary and most junior high schools, provide a highly balance Japanese style lunch. Each calorie and nutrient is carefully considered. Sugar and processed foods are kept to a minimum. There are no vending machines. No bringing in outside foods.
pork cutlet, white rice, miso soup – a fairly typical Japanese school lunch
I’ll admit that sometimes certain dishes are less than palatable. But I know for certain that my body is getting exactly what it needs.
The Japanese take great pride in their school lunch. Many adults often pine over their kyushoku days. My wife was noticeably jealous when she learned I would be getting school lunch when I began working in the public schools here in Sapporo. (all school employees also get lunch at the same reduced rate) There even is a recent trend of restaurants serving exclusively school lunch menus. (Check out Kyushoku Toban) Yes, at an inflated price, you can pay to relive your kyushoku days. They even serve milk in the tiny cartons!
It seems like every expat I have ever interacted with in Japan came here to be in closer contact with some beloved manga they read back home. They wanted to get closer to the source. To read it in Japanese. To spend hours in manga cafes just like the locals.
Well, I don’t read manga. Never have, never will. You know why?
Because I am an adult!
I have never seen the appeal of these small, black and white illustrated picture books. Maybe I am missing something. But my philosophy is: If everyone seems to be into something – don’t do it. Do the opposite. I read novels and nonfiction. I appreciate real art. Not mass produced, serialized fluff for the masses.
Yes, I have tried to read manga. I suppose it could be a decent learning tool for colloquial Japanese. But this obsession the foreign community seems to have with these juvenile paperbacks seems a bit ridiculous. I’ll keep reading long-form, unillustrated tomes – and leave the comics for the kiddies.
It is my opinion that paying for a gym membership, no matter where you live in the world, is one of the worst wastes of money imaginable. Here in Japan is no different. In the last year I have utilized my own surroundings, and incorporated some simple exercises that have helped to shed 25 kilos. And I did this all with little to no cost.
The secret: walking. Walking daily. Walking everywhere. My employer reimburses me for my daily commute using public transportation. They do this regardless of if you use it or not. So I cut my public transport use in half by walking the first leg of my commute every morning and afternoon. (35 min each time) I avoid the crush of people on the morning tram ride and am able to pocket about 10,000 Yen on transportation fees.
This walk is relatively flat, so to compensate, each afternoon/evening I take another brisk walk up Asahiyama. It has a nice paved course and a steep enough incline to get the blood moving. I pretty much do this rain, snow, sleet or shine. It’s a year round thing.
My evening walk up Asahiyama offers wonderful night views of the city.
But walking is only part of the equation. Each morning and afternoon I do a Perfect Pushup routine that is simple and consistent. This product is compact (I’ve packed it on trips abroad), and really helps to isolate muscles and lock your wrists in place. It’s done wonders for my strength training.
Japan has a curious problem when it comes to its public broadcaster NHK. On the one hand, they will claim that anyone who owns a TV (or a smartphone capable of downloading the NHK streaming app) must pay a yearly fee of approximately 13,000 Yen (130 USD). On the other hand, they do nothing to enforce not paying this fee, and go about collecting fees indirectly through middlemen. Because of these two facts, it makes the legality of the NHK fee seem murky at best. This isn’t your average gaijin talking, avoiding fees under the blanket of linguistic ignorance. A large portion of the Japanese public avoids paying this fee too.
I’ve had my fair share of run-ins with the dreaded NHK man. But rarely have I had to actually interact with these scumbags. This is done by simply not answering the door for anyone unless I am absolutely sure it is an expected guest or package delivery agent. No one else gets past that firewall. I’ve seen them through the keyhole, waiting, often ringing the buzzer several times, hoping to catch you letting your guard down and opening your door. NHK third-party agents are known for being overly aggressive, forcing you to sign up for payment by interrogating you endlessly should you mistakenly answer their door to door call.
Of course “aggressive” is a relative term. An “aggressive” Japanese collection agent isn’t really all that intimidating if you come from suburban America, where thwarting Jehovah Witness reps and their like was almost a sport. So when I accidentally opened the door to an NHK agent by accident a few years ago, I just made sure to channel my inner crazy in order to make him see the error of his ways.
Some of us have tried the “gaijin smash” in such situations: feigning Japanese language ignorance, and hoping that does the trick. This can have a 50/50 chance of success, as agents might possess some English skills or have ways to maneuver around that barrier. I decided to take it one step further.
As soon as I realized that I had opened the door to an NHK demon, I decided to make him regret it. I went full Jody Foster in Nell, mumbling incoherently in my own imaginary language, flailing my arms wildly, and acting mentally disturbed.
I almost broke character, laughing when the dude continued to try to get info from me in Japanese and broken English. It took him a few minutes but he eventually relented, backed his way into the elevator, and sayonara-ed sheepishly as the doors closed.
I quickly closed my apartment door, re-secured the lock, and breathed a sigh of relief. The man didn’t even leave a pamphlet, nor did he get my name. In fact, more than 3 years have passed since that frightful day and I have yet to encounter another NHK agent.
So stay strong my foreign friends. Be bold, be weird. You can defeat NHK via unorthodox behavior and embracing your inner Nell.
Autumn has really settled in here in Sapporo. I’ve been eyeing up my snowshoes. First snows could be only a few weeks away. More likely around Christmas time, but one can always hope. In the meantime, we are stuck with consistent rain and temperatures hovering around 5 Celsius. In the early morning. If we do get a breakage of sun, it usually means a small aphid known as the 雪虫 (yukimushi, snow-bug, wooly aphid) makes an appearance.
Cute, right? Wrong… from October until the first snow, these tiny bugs float in the air, tiny cotton balls attached to their backs. They make your commute a living hell, as they stick to your clothes, embed in your hair, fly up nostrils, and craw in your ears. Often I arrive at work and have to debug myself in the bathroom. It makes commuting by bike next to impossible as you are smacked repeatedly by these little bluish/white fluff devils. Just one of the perks of living up here in the north of Japan!
Quick…What is the first things you think of when I say “Hawaii”? If you are from most of the Western world, images of pristine beaches, blue ocean waters, and maybe a nice margarita will shoot through your mind very quickly. But if you are Japanese, you think of pancakes.
Yes, pancakes. Because somehow, through years of marketing savvy, the Japanese have been convinced that Hawaiian pancakes are the single most important cultural item to be indulged in from the Aloha state. Who perpetrated this falsehood is difficult to determine, but my hunch is that it was the Japanese themselves.
Let me explain. I had traveled to Hawaii several times (Big Island, Oahu, and Maui) prior to going there with my wife in 2009. I did all the touristy things (and even some less than touristy things). I walked the Waikiki strip, went snorkeling on an overcrowded buffet boat, walked Kilauea’s lava fields, and scootered the road to Hana. But not once did I feel compelled to indulge in pancakes. My wife, on the other hand, started pining for pancakes the minute we landed. In fact, she had several pancake location scoped out and circled in her guidebook. I was a bit confused by this.
Want to know why? Because Hawaiian pancakes aren’t a thing. I mean, there are pancakes, just like there are anywhere in America. Maybe they are a bit more pricey from those found on the mainland, but that is to be expected. But “Hawaiian” pancakes. Sorry Japan, but you got played. Most likely a bunch of Japanese tourists started “discovering” some regular breakfast joints in and around Honolulu. Then they made the conclusion that those pancakes where unique to the island. Then they spread that rumor back in Old Nippon. Then suddenly there are overpriced package pancake tours of Hawaii. Then, finally, a never ending stream of overpriced, pancake specialty restaurants opening all over Japan.
I loath these places. Pancakes in Japan are marketed as a kind of gourmet dessert and usually cost over 1000 Yen (about 10 USD). Check out these monstrosities from Mint (Sapporo Pancake and Parfait). Their スモークサーモンとアボカドのパンケーキ (Smoked Salmon and Avocado Pancake) is an insult to pancake culture worldwide.
I often joke about how the Japanese people are basically automatons, who mindlessly shuffle through their days, responding to stimuli much like one of Pavlov’s dogs, predictably and without spontaneity. Well, this actually isn’t a joke in most circumstances.
Each morning I arrive at my desk around 7:45. I do this primarily so the vice principle can see me and check off some mental box in his head for my hard working spirit. From 7:45 until 8:25 I basically zone out.
At 8:25 my meditative state is rudely interrupted by the school bell. At that point all the teachers in our Orwellian open plan staff room stand in unison, the vice principle announces the day and date (as if we are 4 years old) and semi-shouts “Ohayougozaimasu!” (おはようございます) Then everyone bows, sits down, and a cacophony of mini meetings begins throughout the room. This happens every single school day, without fail.
It is insane thing to witness. Most of the teachers seem not even conscious of this robotic procedure. It is the closest thing I have experienced to witnessing a demonic possession. It’s downright scary.
I don’t respond to Japanese children (or adults) who say “hello” to me on the street. My reasons are varied:
#1 By responding, you are reinforcing the widely held view that all foreigners of Western distinction speak English decently. Japanese children need to become more aware that this is not the case.
#2 I don’t talk to strangers and neither should they. Sapporo is a big city of approximately 2 million people. This isn’t some small village where everybody knows your name. More importantly, Japanese children are taught from a very early age not to talk to strangers. What is more strange than the white man who makes up less than 1% of the population? By shouting hello at you they indicate that they don’t value you as a human or exist within their cultural norms. (so all rules are out the window)
#3 Almost every time I have responded with a “hello” in kind, the children (and adults) almost universally laugh with their friends or runaway. This makes the exchange even more awkward. It also proves that their motives are less than altruistic. It’s much luck how some humans whistle or click their teeth to get a dogs attention. Don’t reward them for this behavior.
#4 I make my living teaching English. If I respond to the random “hello”, kids most likely will tell their parents, who then will feel justified in whatever meager English education their child receives at elementary school. They’ll think that those unqualified Japanese English teachers must be doing a great job! I don’t give them the satisfaction. Supply and demand. I won’t give away the only commodifiable skill I have in his country.
#5 It’s rude! I wear headphones almost anytime I venture outside alone. Why? To give my brain the excuse to ignore every person who even attempts to “hello” me. Almost all of these unreciprocated hellos is shouted at me from behind, from a school window, or from across the street. I don’t want to come off as rude by not responding, but shouting a foreign greeting to a random stranger a block away is just bizarre. I encourage everyone to mockingly shout “Hola!” repeatedly to a latino-looking pedestrian across a busy intersection in Brooklyn. Good luck with that…
