The First Few Days in Japan

So it's been a hot minute since I left Melbourne, and it's been a hectic and intense time pretty much since I stepped off the plane at Narita Airport in Tokyo. Allow me to update you. Originally this post covered the whole first week, but it was just getting too long, so I chopped it into two separate posts. Still, get comfy, maybe grab a snack - it still might be a little long (sorry).

Ciao, Melbs.

I left Australia on the 20th of August. My flight was at a very respectable time - 9:30am - but it ended up being delayed a bit, so my arrival in Tokyo was pushed back to 8pm. I was the only person on my flight who required a foreign residency card, so they plonked me on an uncomfortable vinyl sofa in the corner where I sat and baked in my own sweat and tried to look as uncomfortable as possible for the next hour. I am wholly convinced that immigration completely forgot about me, then suddenly panicked. The residency card took only a matter of minutes to be ready, then I frantically dashed through customs, hoping the JET associate who was meant to be collecting me on the other side hadn't given up and left. I found her, equally frantic, and we basked in each other's relief for all of fifteen seconds. Then we had to run for the bus. They'd pre-booked me a ticket, and the bus was leaving in five minutes. Good.

Thankfully, it was cruisey after that. It was a long hour and a half to Shinjuku, and there was nothing but freeway to look at until we hit the outskirts of inner Tokyo. Then it was beautiful. I was stunned when we unexpectedly passed Disneyland all lit up with fairy lights. Endless, inky city skyline. BAM. Spectacular glow for one dazzling moment. Really amazing. All the JETs undertake mandatory training at the extremely deluxe Keio Plaza Hotel, which is a short walk from Shinjuku Station. Marble floor, plush carpet, fantastic views - very ritzy. I arrived quite late - about 11pm, and was quickly ushered inside, where envelopes full of stuff were shoved into my hands and I was bundled into an elevator. Okay, thaaanks. See you tomorrow, then? By the way, what time and where is breakfast?

Rosanna ♥

My poor room mate had become convinced she didn't have a room mate at all, and had locked the door and gone to bed. #awkward. Luckily she hadn't gone to sleep, so she let me in and we pretty much immediately became friends. Yay. Rosanna is from Britain and lives a bit north of London on the commuter belt, and she has a lovely posh accent despite not being posh at all. She's tall and willowy with this amazing mane of golden ringlets and pretty blue eyes, so I wholly expect her to be a smash hit over here. She lives in Kobe, which is a hop, skip and a jump from me. We're planning a trip somewhere in Japan at the end of October. I've got my fingers crossed for Kyoto.

Conferences.

There was little time for much of anything besides a quick late-night chat, so we were asleep pretty fast. This was very fortunate, as it's an early start for JET orientation and training - 8:45 in the conference hall, fed, presentably clothed (full business attire) and ready for what is effectively cram school for ESL teaching. I'd heard from previous JET groups that orientation was the longest dragging 48 hours of their lives, but I actually really enjoyed ours. We had a very small group - only fifty people compared to the several hundred in the other groups - so we worked in close-knit groups and got to know each other really well under the intensely-scheduled circumstances. It was very calm, efficient and civilised. The seminars were well prepared and presented, and we had fun learning from the experts. Or at least I did. Can't vouch for the others.

Coffee catch-ups in Tokyo ♥

On the first night there was a welcoming ceremony with buffet dinner, where we all mingled and ate far too many varieties of cake, then slipped away as early as possible to escape to bed. Except I slipped away to meet up with one of my oldest friends for coffee at Starbucks. There was something really thrilling and magical about dashing out into Shinjuku at night, alone and right on the cusp of a huge adventure. I'd seen her a month earlier when I was on holiday, but it was just as exciting spotting her sitting in the corner of Starbucks as it would have been if it had been three years. We yammered for hours, until they forced everyone to leave so they could close (poor guys).

The second night, we had to fend for ourselves and forage for dinner. So a bunch of us ventured out into Shinjuku's narrow, winding back alleyways, all packed with tiny, steaming izakaya (miniature restaurants that basically consist of an island kitchen flanked by narrow counters, where people sit on bar stools and have hot food and cold beer served straight to them by sweaty chefs. Each izakaya seats anywhere from half a dozen to a dozen people). We found a place large enough for five and stuffed our faces with enormous bowls of cheap, boiling ramen. It was atrociously hot in there though, with the steam billowing off the hot plates, so we ate fast, stayed as long as we could stand it, then fled to the safety of Tokyo's air conditioned trains. Some of our group had never been to Tokyo before, and I selfishly wanted to visit a shop in Harajuku, so Rosanna and I (the seasoned travellers) gave them the short guided tour of Takeshita-dori, complete with mandatory dessert crepes from Angels Heart. Mind-blowingly delicious. Rosanna and I shared a strawberry cheesecake crepe, thus solidifying our status as "pals", and it literally had a whole piece of cheesecake in it. I live for Harajuku crepes. Add it to your to-do list.

Playtime in Harajuku.

We visited my store, I grabbed a disgustingly cute t-shirt, then it was off to find Cat Street, a charming, semi-old-fashioned-in-a-Ghibli-kind-of-way narrow road, lined with tall Victorian-style lamp posts and cute shopfronts. We wandered along for a while then changed course for Shibuya, where we stood and watched several rotations of the famous crossing in all its bustling glory, admired the dazzling neon signs on all sides, and took snaps of the Hachiko statue. Then we called it a day and went back to Shinjuku to sleep. 

Wednesday was "Farewell New Friends, Hello Strange New Home" Day, so we all woke up unpleasantly early, checked out, and lugged our crap to the buses that whisked us off to Haneda Airport. I chatted with the one other Okayama JET on the bus trip. She's a veterinarian from South Africa, small and slim with beautiful chocolatey skin and a sort of wry, sardonic sense of humour. She's in Kurashiki, which is only two stations from me, and doesn't have much Japanese language, so we're going to meet up next week and figure some stuff out together. She also vegan, which leads to the first funny anecdote of the year abroad: One of our PAs is a good-humoured middle-aged Japanese man who speaks zero English and had never heard of veganism. He spent a good ten minutes Googling it, then interrupting our conversations with the other PA (about more important things like appropriate work attire, what to do in a natural disaster, or who to contact if you're having any issues at your school/s) to ask if she could eat egg, or milk, or cheese, or fish flakes. I'm pretty sure at one point he asked if beef was fine. The Kurashiki JET is going to have an interesting year.

Off to Okayama.

It was only a short flight from Haneda to tiny Okayama Airport, about an hour and a half, and we were welcomed by glorious sunny weather, blue skies and green fields of rice paddies as far as the eye could see. Plus four Japanese men wearing business suits and nervous smiles. After a quick mandatory photo in front of the "Welcome to Okayama" sign, we were separated and chauffeured off to our respective towns. My guide was the Vice Principal of my base school in Soja, a gentle, well-spoken man who seems perpetually uncertain. He's done a lot of work with JETs in the past and is very supportive. He checks in on me whenever I'm at my base school, which is extremely kind as the Vice Principal is generally in charge of running the entire school. The actual Principal seems to be more of a ceremonial figurehead. Not unlike the Emperor, really. Ultimate power but delegates responsibility.

The afternoon was a blur, it was so intensely busy. I was taken to my base school, where I met the Principal and my supervisor, and a bunch of other teachers in the staff room, stuffed a bento (Japanese-style lunch box, consisting of an assortment of different Japanese foods in little compartments) down my throat, and filled out a bunch of paperwork. My supervisor then threw me in her car and drove me to City Hall to register me as a foreign resident of Soja, and then to the bank to apply for a Japanese bank account. This was a long, infuriatingly bureaucratic process, and there were some issues, so we had to go back to the school then back to the bank, then back to the school a few times until it was all sorted. I used my hanko (a tiny wooden stamp that is personalised with your name, and which acts as an official signature for important documents) for the first time, which was absurdly exciting.

Greetings, Soja.

By this stage it was mid afternoon and the sun was beating down fiercely. It was about thirty-five degrees the day I arrived, and there was not a cloud in the sky. Everyone - not just me - had beads of sweat sliding down their faces all afternoon, and we were all in short sleeves. It was disgustingly hot. And in this disgusting heat, I had the decidedly unpleasant experience of riding my bicycle to my new house, which is about a kilometre or so from my base school. Keep in mind that from the start of orientation all the JETs were technically considered "on the job", so we were required to wear business attire on the plane from Tokyo to Okayama. Second amusing anecdote of the year abroad: Not only did I get to ride my bike an unfortunate distance in the baking sun, I got to do it in a pencil skirt, stockings and heels. I hadn't ridden a bike in over ten years. The excitement of being in Japan, riding a vintage bicycle with a basket actually did trump the uncomfortable conditions though. Some delighted giggling may have happened (nobody was around; I checked).

Without a doubt the most difficult part of the day was the two minutes my supervisor and I had to spend trying to carry my thirty kilogram suitcase up a flight of stairs to my apartment. That literally sucked. It was horrible. My hands were sweating so much that my corner of the case kept slipping and dropping on the steps. I will never forget it. It was hell.

My apartment was filled with stagnant heat, and sort of depressingly empty-looking, but it was clean and everything worked, so my supervisor seemed happy and left me to settle in. I was in a kind of desperate state of THIS HEAT IS AWFUL GIVE ME SOME RELIEF, so I literally turned on the air con (the only air con is in my room; the rest of the house is an oven), peeled all my clothes off, and collapsed on the bed for a while, recovering. Unpacking didn't take long - thirty kilos is actually not a lot of stuff - so after that I went out in search of food. Shane and I had been delightedly entertained by the name of a pharmacy superstore behind my apartment - called "Drugstore Zag-Zag" (zagu zagu in Japanese) - so it felt only right to visit there first on my way past. Astonishingly, Zag-Zag actually is half supermarket, half pharmacy, so I was able to get all the basics there. Milk, bread, butter -- even eggs! So weird. Zag-Zag has a lovely, cheerful little jingle that plays on loop while you're browsing the shelves, too. I always leave feeling good about life.

Streets around my apartment.

View from my kitchen window.

Us late arrival JETs really had to hit the ground running, too. The next morning was my first day at one of my visit schools (I'm not sure what they're technically called; I go to my base school twice a week, then visit each of my other three schools once a week. But there are weeks where my base school has important events that take priority, and I don't visit the other schools... I'm not well-versed in the fine print yet). I was up and heading to school for an 8:00am arrival, where I introduced myself in Japanese to the entire staff at the 8:20 meeting, then gave a speech at the school's start of term opening ceremony. Hands down, the first school's opening ceremony was the worst, because it was as horrifically hot as the day before, and I was again in full business attire. Blazer and all. They let me keep it off until I went up on stage to speak, then remove it again afterward, but still. Intensely uncomfortable times. The speech itself went fine, the kids were hot and generally not enthused about being back after summer break, so nobody even really pretended to listen, but everyone was very nice to me and it was a positive start.

Courtyard at one of my schools in Soja City.

The afternoon was spent being introduced to the timetables, schedules and customs of the school, getting to know some of the staff - especially the JTEs (Japanese Teachers of English) I'll be working with - and discussing the kinds of lesson plans they want me to start organising. It went extremely quickly, and it was a massive information overload. Note-taking everywhere. But again, it set me up with a very optimistic attitude towards settling into school life and the school communities here.

Making friends with my desk.

Friday was exactly the same as Thursday, but at a different school. I learned very quickly that Fridays are going to be my longest days, because factoring in a half hour train ride to Yakage Town for an 8am arrival means a 6am wake up - which I know for many is unremarkably normal, but for anyone who's unaware of my terrible sleeping habits, I'm basically nocturnal half the time and generally loathe mornings, so that was a big "yikes" of a discovery. However, it was actually fine and I woke well-rested, to my absolute surprise. Maybe this will be an era of new, better habits (we'll see). 

Soja Station.

Anyway, my school in Yakage is older than the Federation of Australia. That was my Fun Fact of the Week. Federation was in 1901, and the school was opened in like 1890. It has an old hall built in the architectural style of the Meiji period; white weatherboards with dark wood windows and doors, and an air of European aristocracy. Now it's where the tea ceremony club is held after school. I love it. It's so beautiful. I live for this kind of stuff. A newer wing was recently completed and they used wood from Yakage to build it (my heart, it is fuzzy). The school is a lot smaller than my schools in Soja City and has fewer teachers and students, but its rural character is very charming. Devastatingly, the prefecture attempted to close the school down recently, due to students being drawn away from Yakage Town to larger, more academic prefectural schools (cough my base school), but the school and townspeople successfully fought and saved it for a while longer. This school, with its rich history, deserves to survive. 

Bonsai in the a quad at my school in Yakage Town.

View from the tiny platform at Yakage Station.

On Friday night I experienced my first real wobble of the week. Having caught the train back from Yakage Town to Soja City, I wandered down from the station to the little lot where I'd parked my bike. My bike, like most, has a built in lock for the back wheel, and a little key for it. But my supervisor had also bought a second bike lock, one of those tube ones you loop around a fence and through the front wheel, etc. She warned me that sometimes bikes get stolen even if you use the built in wheel lock, and that it's always better to use both to be safe. Unfortunately this parking lot didn't have any fences or poles or anything that you could loop the tube lock around, so I'd had to just go with the wheel lock and hope for the best. I'm sure you can see where this is going. When I couldn't find my bike where I'd left it, I thought perhaps someone had just moved it (though why anyone would was beyond me), so I started looking through the other bikes. Then I started to get a little worried and anxious that my bike had been stolen within the first three days of my arriving. It's a long walk from the station to my house, too, so I was doubly glum.

A small house is attached to the parking lot, and a lady emerged out of it, asking if everything was okay. I told her I couldn't find my bike, and that it looked like another I'd spotted. She took my key and tried it in the lock of the look-alike-bike - and it was my bike! Turns out she had moved it because it's a pay-parking lot, but since I don't read Japanese and they weren't open yet when I arrived in the morning, I just hadn't known or realised. I went from panicked to horrified with comic speed - nothing worse than offending the locals you may have to see every day for the rest of your year on one of your very first days. She was terse at first, but she understood and the matter was cleared up quickly. I must have apologised a dozen times and bowed like a madwoman, because she told me I could park there even when it isn't open and just pay at the end of the day. She introduced herself as Takako, and I resolved on the spot to try to redeem myself and make her like me. But anyway, that was the first heart attack of the year abroad. 

I promise the next, and subsequent, posts will be much shorter (and they'll have proper photos from my camera, not my crummy iPhone 5C)! Talk again soon x