We’d been looking forward to today for a couple of weeks now. Not the wading through a bunch of junk and asking, “Where in the world is this gonna go?” Although we are secretly enjoying that too, because it means we finally have our own stuff again. No, Yasuko, the friendly neighbor across the street had arranged a dinner party in her home for us and the two other American families who live on our street. It was our first chance to go into a Japanese home, eat home-cooked Japanese food, and visit with our new neighbors.
We were scheduled to arrive at the neighbor’s at 4:00 p.m., but just as we were getting ready to put our shoes on, she called and asked us to wait until 4:30 because she wasn’t done cooking yet. So, after another 30 minutes of shuffling stuff from one room to another, we walked across the street to her house. She ushered us into the living room, where we were told to have a seat on the couch. Our host produced icy cans of Japanese beer (gulp—neither of us are beer drinkers, but we didn’t want to be impolite, so we cracked them open. I nursed mine for the next five hours and finally finished it off…Jim gave his to Aaron.) On the coffee table in front of us was an absolute feast, so beautifully prepared and presented it should have been featured in a magazine. There were nine of us there (two American couples, a single American, and two Japanese couples), and food enough for three times that many. I don’t know the names of everything she prepared, but I tried everything I was offered (Mom, you’d be so proud of me!). There were fried pork rolls, cups of rice topped with shredded beef or shrimp, an egg and potato casserole, shrimp and green bean tempura, edamame (young soybeans boiled in the pod), potato salad, sausage-stuffed eggplants, marinated mackerel and cucumbers, homemade bread, and a fresh fruit salad with Japanese pears, grapes, and persimmons. We had second helpings of many of the dishes, and even thirds of a few.
The evening’s conversation was interesting. There were the expected mini-conversations in English between the Americans and in Japanese between our hosts and the other Japanese couple, but for the most part we tried very hard to communicate across cultures. One of the other Americans had just begun Japanese lessons, so he was eager to try out what he had learned (he brought his dictionary along to help), and Yasuko was a great translator. Her husband, who claimed not to speak English, is in fact very capable, and told many stories of his job as a financial reporter (his English is just a bit rusty because he uses it far less often now that he is retired). The other Japanese couple spoke less English, but seemed to understand a great deal. They had questions for us about America, and we had questions for them about Japan. It was a great learning experience, and we Americans are already talking about hosting a dinner of our own to reciprocate. I hope that we can continue to build our relationships with the neighbors, and possibly develop friendships that will endure even after we return to the States.
Friday, September 26--Move In--Part 2
Yesterday, they came and removed all of our temporary furniture, with the exception of the bed, to make room for today’s delivery of our VERY OWN STUFF!! Any of you who have experienced a move in the States will not believe me when I tell you the movers were in and out in four hours. Yes, FOUR HOURS. The Pegasus moving company’s crew of three arrived right around 8:30 a.m., took a quick tour of the house, then began opening crates and unwrapping our possessions. As they flew by me in the entryway, they called out the number from the sticker so I could check it against the inventory, and hustled the item to its correct room. They manhandled the over-sized sofa and loveseat down the Japanese-sized hallway, around the corner, and into the living room without touching a single wall. The movers who packed us out in the States were fairly competent, but I guarantee they’d have gouged the wallpaper on at least three walls trying to get that furniture in there. They assembled the kitchen table and queen-sized sleigh bed in a matter of minutes. I’ve lived with both those items for three years and know what they are supposed to look like when assembled, and I still don’t think I could have done it as quickly as they did, sight unseen (the bed, especially, was in a lot of pieces!).
Once everything was off-loaded from the truck, we began opening boxes so that the movers could take the boxes and packing material with them when they left. Jim and I helped with this part, and in under an hour, every single thing we brought with us was unpacked, and all of the boxes and papers were bundled up and back on the truck. Holy whirlwind, Batman! At 12:30, the three-man Pegasus crew was back in the truck and pulling out of our street. Of course, the house looks like a bomb went off, so to preserve our sanity and to fuel up for the job ahead, Jim mandated an off-site lunch break before we jump into the clean-up operation. About an hour after we returned, the doorbell rang—it was the inspector from the housing office who comes during a move-in to make sure everything is going smoothly. He was very disconcerted to find out he was about three hours too late!! He’s been doing this for years, and even he was surprised by the speediness of our crew.
Now, the real fun begins. When we packed out, we were separating belongings to go with us or go in storage, not necessarily leaving them in the rooms they should go in. So now we have clothes in the living room, DVDs in the bedroom, and shoes in every room of the house. It will take me much longer than four hours to get everything sorted and the house in living condition. First order of business…find the sheets and make the bed, because I am going to need a soft place to fall this evening!
Once everything was off-loaded from the truck, we began opening boxes so that the movers could take the boxes and packing material with them when they left. Jim and I helped with this part, and in under an hour, every single thing we brought with us was unpacked, and all of the boxes and papers were bundled up and back on the truck. Holy whirlwind, Batman! At 12:30, the three-man Pegasus crew was back in the truck and pulling out of our street. Of course, the house looks like a bomb went off, so to preserve our sanity and to fuel up for the job ahead, Jim mandated an off-site lunch break before we jump into the clean-up operation. About an hour after we returned, the doorbell rang—it was the inspector from the housing office who comes during a move-in to make sure everything is going smoothly. He was very disconcerted to find out he was about three hours too late!! He’s been doing this for years, and even he was surprised by the speediness of our crew.
Now, the real fun begins. When we packed out, we were separating belongings to go with us or go in storage, not necessarily leaving them in the rooms they should go in. So now we have clothes in the living room, DVDs in the bedroom, and shoes in every room of the house. It will take me much longer than four hours to get everything sorted and the house in living condition. First order of business…find the sheets and make the bed, because I am going to need a soft place to fall this evening!
Thursday, September 25--An Observation Leads to a Job
Today, I went with a friend to sit in on her conversational English lessons at JMSDF (Japan Maritime Self Defense Force). She teaches mostly officers who will, at some point, either work with the UN or go to America to study. They get intensive English training from Japanese instructors, and as a result, read and write English very well. The school hires spouses from the US Navy base to assist the students in building their speaking confidence. Each week, a new topic is assigned, and the teacher facilitates discussions accordingly. It could be a question and answer session, a role-playing scenario, or a discussion of traditions. Regardless of the format or the topic, the students are active participants and ask tons of questions.
By the end of her two fifty-minute classes, I was filling out a form to be included on the school’s substitute teacher list. Before we walked out the door, I was booked for two days of classes of my own! Of course, I got role-playing topics—my least favorite form of instruction—for both days…at a housing agency and at a rental car company. I’ll have to make a good effort to be really enthusiastic so they will ask me to work again in the future!
By the end of her two fifty-minute classes, I was filling out a form to be included on the school’s substitute teacher list. Before we walked out the door, I was booked for two days of classes of my own! Of course, I got role-playing topics—my least favorite form of instruction—for both days…at a housing agency and at a rental car company. I’ll have to make a good effort to be really enthusiastic so they will ask me to work again in the future!
Wednesday, September 24--Getting the Ball Rolling
Well, folks are not beating down my door for English lessons, but I have picked up my first groups of students from a Navy wife who is leaving next month. I went with her to the lessons this afternoon, to meet the students and to get a feel for how she teaches. The two groups meet back to back--each one for thirty minutes, two times a month.
The Kitty Cat group has five students, aged three to six. The girls are all very sweet and cute, and the one boy is the class clown. They are learning shapes, colors, and numbers. Unfortunately, they don’t know enough English to follow directions for activities and games, so one of the mothers has to translate everything into Japanese. Basically, this seems to be a “repeat what I say” class, with little comprehension--due to the ages of the kids. They are still learning Japanese at this age (just like American preschoolers are learning English), so anything extra they can pick up in English is pretty amazing to me. It’ll be interesting to see how far I can take this group.
The Kite group is made up of 3 older boys, aged seven to eleven. They are typical, energetic boys, and it will be a challenge to keep their interest. It was hard to gauge exactly what their English level was. They definitely had a larger vocabulary than the younger group, but spent most of their time talking amongst themselves in Japanese. Today’s lesson was not a normal lesson, because it was the last day for the teacher they’d had for nearly two years—they played a game, had cupcakes, and exchanged gifts. I’ll get a better feel for things next time I see them—would like to challenge them to not use any Japanese for the thirty minutes they are with me, but they may not be ready for that.
Even though this was only an hour of teaching, I was pretty well worn out by the end. Guess summer break was too long, and I forgot how much energy is required to keep up with kids! These may be the only two children’s groups I take on…we’ll see how I do with adults. Tomorrow I am scheduled to go with a friend to a Japanese military school to sit in on her class. She teaches English conversation class to officers. If I enjoy it, I can sign up to be a substitute there. Stay tuned…
The Kitty Cat group has five students, aged three to six. The girls are all very sweet and cute, and the one boy is the class clown. They are learning shapes, colors, and numbers. Unfortunately, they don’t know enough English to follow directions for activities and games, so one of the mothers has to translate everything into Japanese. Basically, this seems to be a “repeat what I say” class, with little comprehension--due to the ages of the kids. They are still learning Japanese at this age (just like American preschoolers are learning English), so anything extra they can pick up in English is pretty amazing to me. It’ll be interesting to see how far I can take this group.
The Kite group is made up of 3 older boys, aged seven to eleven. They are typical, energetic boys, and it will be a challenge to keep their interest. It was hard to gauge exactly what their English level was. They definitely had a larger vocabulary than the younger group, but spent most of their time talking amongst themselves in Japanese. Today’s lesson was not a normal lesson, because it was the last day for the teacher they’d had for nearly two years—they played a game, had cupcakes, and exchanged gifts. I’ll get a better feel for things next time I see them—would like to challenge them to not use any Japanese for the thirty minutes they are with me, but they may not be ready for that.
Even though this was only an hour of teaching, I was pretty well worn out by the end. Guess summer break was too long, and I forgot how much energy is required to keep up with kids! These may be the only two children’s groups I take on…we’ll see how I do with adults. Tomorrow I am scheduled to go with a friend to a Japanese military school to sit in on her class. She teaches English conversation class to officers. If I enjoy it, I can sign up to be a substitute there. Stay tuned…
Sunday, September 21--DIS101-Intro to Natural Disasters
We got to experience two of the most common natural disasters in Japan this weekend. Fortunately, both were extremely mild examples, and neither one required us to evacuate or even break out the flashlight from the emergency kit.
The weekend kicked off with a visit from TS15, also known as Tropical Storm Sinlaku. We'd been watching this on-again/off-again typhoon for over a week as it ambled northeast across the Pacific. After several days' delayed arrival, forecasts finally called for rain to begin Friday night and last through Saturday afternoon, with total accumulations of 250mm (almost 10 inches for all you non-metric folks). Winds were forecast to increase throughout the night and end up sustained at 45 mph with gusts to 65 mph. Well, the weather forecasters here are nearly as accurate as the ones in the States. About all they got right was the time the inclement weather would start. Rain was steady, but light--significantly less than 250mm. It was accompanied by three bolts of lightning, one of which knocked out power for about two minutes. There was a stiff breeze, with a few stronger gusts--not even powerful enough to pull the dead blooms off the hibiscus tree. The whole thing was over and done by about 3 a.m. By the time we got up Saturday morning, the sun was out! I've seen worse thunderstorms in Virginia.
Our second encounter with Mother Nature’s grumpy side came at 7:17 a.m. this morning. We were still sleeping, since earlier in the week Jim had declared Sunday a day of rest (he was tired from his trip last week, and had no chance to catch up this week due to a hectic schedule). I was in the middle of a dream when my body started trembling. As I was coming to consciousness, my first thought was that Jim was having some sort of convulsions, causing the bed to shake. Then he raised himself up and the shaking continued, so I thought I was having some sort of convulsions. Finally it clicked that we were having an earthquake. By the time I asked Jim, “Are we having an earthquake?” it was over. It wasn’t even strong enough to make the dishes rattle in the cabinets. We went back to sleep, and later in the morning I checked the internet for details. The magnitude 4.8 quake was a 3 on the shindo scale (measures the degree of shaking) at its epicenter near Tokyo, and what we felt was only a shindo 1. Japan averages 1500 earthquakes a year (there have been 5 so far today alone), so it seems inevitable that we will experience many more during our time here. Let's hope they are all as mild as today's quake.
The weekend kicked off with a visit from TS15, also known as Tropical Storm Sinlaku. We'd been watching this on-again/off-again typhoon for over a week as it ambled northeast across the Pacific. After several days' delayed arrival, forecasts finally called for rain to begin Friday night and last through Saturday afternoon, with total accumulations of 250mm (almost 10 inches for all you non-metric folks). Winds were forecast to increase throughout the night and end up sustained at 45 mph with gusts to 65 mph. Well, the weather forecasters here are nearly as accurate as the ones in the States. About all they got right was the time the inclement weather would start. Rain was steady, but light--significantly less than 250mm. It was accompanied by three bolts of lightning, one of which knocked out power for about two minutes. There was a stiff breeze, with a few stronger gusts--not even powerful enough to pull the dead blooms off the hibiscus tree. The whole thing was over and done by about 3 a.m. By the time we got up Saturday morning, the sun was out! I've seen worse thunderstorms in Virginia.
Our second encounter with Mother Nature’s grumpy side came at 7:17 a.m. this morning. We were still sleeping, since earlier in the week Jim had declared Sunday a day of rest (he was tired from his trip last week, and had no chance to catch up this week due to a hectic schedule). I was in the middle of a dream when my body started trembling. As I was coming to consciousness, my first thought was that Jim was having some sort of convulsions, causing the bed to shake. Then he raised himself up and the shaking continued, so I thought I was having some sort of convulsions. Finally it clicked that we were having an earthquake. By the time I asked Jim, “Are we having an earthquake?” it was over. It wasn’t even strong enough to make the dishes rattle in the cabinets. We went back to sleep, and later in the morning I checked the internet for details. The magnitude 4.8 quake was a 3 on the shindo scale (measures the degree of shaking) at its epicenter near Tokyo, and what we felt was only a shindo 1. Japan averages 1500 earthquakes a year (there have been 5 so far today alone), so it seems inevitable that we will experience many more during our time here. Let's hope they are all as mild as today's quake.
Saturday, September 20--Shuffle Up and Deal
Move over World Series of Poker. The ultimate in high-stakes poker, the Captain's Cup Texas Hold 'Em Tournament, sponsored by MWR (Morale, Welfare, and Recreation), took place at 1000 this morning. The Captain's Cup is a series of "sports" events, including softball, tennis, ping pong, and poker, that take place throughout the year. A command earns points by winning events. In addition to being recognized as the champion of a particular event, at the end of the year, the command that has earned the most points wins the overall Captain's Cup. One of Jim's coworkers is determined that their office will be represented on the Captain's Cup Wall of Fame. As a result, eight of us mustered at 0930 to secure our places at the poker tables. At the previous day's strategy meeting, it was decided that we would all sit at different tables (so as not to eliminate each other) and a side pot was established for the team member who lasted longest in the tournament (incentive to be patient and play good cards).
The tournament started with about 50 players, and within 30 seconds there was an all-in moment. I figured that was a pretty good indication we'd be able to hang for a while. In fact, four of us stuck around to the final two tables, Jim and myself included. I went out ahead of Jim, having only played two hands the whole tournament, and winning none. However, I managed to win third place in the women's division with that pitiful performance, earning a trophy and points toward the Captain's Cup! Jim went out right after me, but since there were still about 16 men left, no trophy or points for him.
At the end of the tournament, our team walked away with two trophies (also got 2nd place in the women's division--she was the side pot winner as well) which will be proudly displayed in the office's trophy case--as soon as someone gets around to building it.
The tournament started with about 50 players, and within 30 seconds there was an all-in moment. I figured that was a pretty good indication we'd be able to hang for a while. In fact, four of us stuck around to the final two tables, Jim and myself included. I went out ahead of Jim, having only played two hands the whole tournament, and winning none. However, I managed to win third place in the women's division with that pitiful performance, earning a trophy and points toward the Captain's Cup! Jim went out right after me, but since there were still about 16 men left, no trophy or points for him.
At the end of the tournament, our team walked away with two trophies (also got 2nd place in the women's division--she was the side pot winner as well) which will be proudly displayed in the office's trophy case--as soon as someone gets around to building it.
Wednesday, September 17--Say What?
It is not my personal philosophy, but if I were on a debate team, I could make the argument that knowing a little bit of a foreign language is worse than knowing none at all. Let me give you an example.
Today, I was out in the front “yard” pulling weeds. I heard footsteps, then some scrabbling out in the street and looked through the reed fence to see a man in a white hardhat and blue coverall setting up a barricade around the telephone pole on our property. He then shuffled off to the gate and rang the doorbell, so I made my way around the house to see what he wanted. When he saw me approaching, he said, “Konnichiwa,” which I know—it is the middle-of-the-day greeting. I replied, “Konnichiwa,” and I cannot even describe the look of immediate relief that passed over his face. It was like a thousand-pound weight had been lifted from him. This gaijin speaks Japanese! So he immediately launched into what I assume was an explanation for his being there. He looked toward the pole, and I think I heard the word “telephone,” so I gathered he was doing something with the phone. Given that he was in work clothes and I had seen him setting up the barricade around the pole, I didn’t think he was in trouble and wanted to use my telephone. But that was about all I could rule out. He could have been telling me that he was going to work on the telephone, so it would be out of order for a while, or he could have been saying please don’t use your telephone while I am working because you’ll electrocute me. Heck, for all I know he was warning me that he was going to be climbing the telephone pole, so I shouldn’t run around naked upstairs because he’d be able to see in the windows. Obviously, I need to work on my “I don’t understand a word you’re saying” look, because he seemed perfectly satisfied that I knew why he was there and what he was doing and took off to the next house.
Luckily, this was not an emergency situation, where it was critical that I understood what was being said. But what about next time? This small encounter just drove home the point that I need to get serious about studying Japanese. Three years is a long time to live somewhere and not be able to communicate. It’s a very isolating feeling to know that you don’t understand the language and cannot be understood in return. In a country with 125 million people it would be unlikely to find yourself completely alone, but the language issue could make it very easy to be lonely.
Today, I was out in the front “yard” pulling weeds. I heard footsteps, then some scrabbling out in the street and looked through the reed fence to see a man in a white hardhat and blue coverall setting up a barricade around the telephone pole on our property. He then shuffled off to the gate and rang the doorbell, so I made my way around the house to see what he wanted. When he saw me approaching, he said, “Konnichiwa,” which I know—it is the middle-of-the-day greeting. I replied, “Konnichiwa,” and I cannot even describe the look of immediate relief that passed over his face. It was like a thousand-pound weight had been lifted from him. This gaijin speaks Japanese! So he immediately launched into what I assume was an explanation for his being there. He looked toward the pole, and I think I heard the word “telephone,” so I gathered he was doing something with the phone. Given that he was in work clothes and I had seen him setting up the barricade around the pole, I didn’t think he was in trouble and wanted to use my telephone. But that was about all I could rule out. He could have been telling me that he was going to work on the telephone, so it would be out of order for a while, or he could have been saying please don’t use your telephone while I am working because you’ll electrocute me. Heck, for all I know he was warning me that he was going to be climbing the telephone pole, so I shouldn’t run around naked upstairs because he’d be able to see in the windows. Obviously, I need to work on my “I don’t understand a word you’re saying” look, because he seemed perfectly satisfied that I knew why he was there and what he was doing and took off to the next house.
Luckily, this was not an emergency situation, where it was critical that I understood what was being said. But what about next time? This small encounter just drove home the point that I need to get serious about studying Japanese. Three years is a long time to live somewhere and not be able to communicate. It’s a very isolating feeling to know that you don’t understand the language and cannot be understood in return. In a country with 125 million people it would be unlikely to find yourself completely alone, but the language issue could make it very easy to be lonely.
Saturday, September 13--Mystery Solved
If you remember, we have a good deal of unidentified flora in our front "yard." Did a little research while waiting for the exterminator to arrive, and have concluded that the tree with the pretty white flowers is a hibiscus. The blooms are gorgeous, but last only one day. Then they curl up tightly, drop off, and stick like glue to my windshield. I try to remember to pick them off by hand before leaving, because if I use the wipers to scrape them off, everyone thinks that the dumb American still can't remember which side the turn signal lever is on!Thursday, September 11--To the left, to the left
To get to our house from the base, you turn right out of the main gate. We have never, in the six weeks we’ve been here, turned left out of the gate. To the left lies an unexplored world, full of mysteries, and if the rumor is true, shopping! Today I vowed to venture forth into the Left, to conquer my fear of the unknown, and to return with a recycling bin that will accommodate as many different types of trash as possible.
Armed with a full tank of gas (the journey is supposed to be around 5 km—less than 3 miles), some vague directions, and emergency rations of water and granola bars, I bravely headed out. The drive, short as it was, was actually through a very pretty area. The road runs along the coast, and there are large palm trees along the median. There was a feeling of more space, even though stores were still closely packed and high rises towered alongside the road. Not sure what the difference was—maybe being able to see the ocean and an actual horizon to my left?
The two stores I went to were adventures in themselves. It seems that most stores of any size around here are divided into multiple floors, and it is difficult to locate specific items, or remember where it was you found something. The stores today were on one level (I don’t know how this happened—it must seem like a colossal waste of space to many Japanese), and reminded me of the big-box stores from home. Ave was kind of like a Walmart, having a little bit of everything. A lot of the products are American (Dove soap, Pantene shampoo, Hanes t-shirts), but packaged for Japanese tastes. There is also a supermarket within the store, but I did not explore that today. Home’s (I know that is not the correct use of an apostrophe, but that’s the name of the store) is a Target meets Lowes superstore. Lots of familiar hardware, lumber, and gardening supplies here. The most noticeable difference between Home’s and Lowes—there were not half a dozen aisles devoted to paint. There was a single section filled with paint cans (I don’t remember seeing any color swatches), brushes, and rollers that took up only one side of one aisle. Guess if everything is wall-papered, there isn’t much demand for paint. (I can understand with the humidity here, paint must take weeks to dry, but by the same token, I do not understand how the wallpaper stays on the wall. I’d think the paste would stay gummy, and the paper would just slide down the wall to puddle on the floor.)
Overall, the voyage into the Left went quite well, and I’m very pleased with myself (Rocky theme playing in the background here). I was even able to get out of the parking garage by reading the exit signs which were only written in Japanese! (Yeah, okay, it’s true. If you showed me those signs in a different context, there’s a really good chance I wouldn’t have a clue what they were. Just let me pretend for a minute I’m making progress with this new language!) By the way, I did find a recycle bin, that when combined with our regular trash can (if it ever arrives), will handle most of our sorting needs.
Armed with a full tank of gas (the journey is supposed to be around 5 km—less than 3 miles), some vague directions, and emergency rations of water and granola bars, I bravely headed out. The drive, short as it was, was actually through a very pretty area. The road runs along the coast, and there are large palm trees along the median. There was a feeling of more space, even though stores were still closely packed and high rises towered alongside the road. Not sure what the difference was—maybe being able to see the ocean and an actual horizon to my left?
The two stores I went to were adventures in themselves. It seems that most stores of any size around here are divided into multiple floors, and it is difficult to locate specific items, or remember where it was you found something. The stores today were on one level (I don’t know how this happened—it must seem like a colossal waste of space to many Japanese), and reminded me of the big-box stores from home. Ave was kind of like a Walmart, having a little bit of everything. A lot of the products are American (Dove soap, Pantene shampoo, Hanes t-shirts), but packaged for Japanese tastes. There is also a supermarket within the store, but I did not explore that today. Home’s (I know that is not the correct use of an apostrophe, but that’s the name of the store) is a Target meets Lowes superstore. Lots of familiar hardware, lumber, and gardening supplies here. The most noticeable difference between Home’s and Lowes—there were not half a dozen aisles devoted to paint. There was a single section filled with paint cans (I don’t remember seeing any color swatches), brushes, and rollers that took up only one side of one aisle. Guess if everything is wall-papered, there isn’t much demand for paint. (I can understand with the humidity here, paint must take weeks to dry, but by the same token, I do not understand how the wallpaper stays on the wall. I’d think the paste would stay gummy, and the paper would just slide down the wall to puddle on the floor.)
Overall, the voyage into the Left went quite well, and I’m very pleased with myself (Rocky theme playing in the background here). I was even able to get out of the parking garage by reading the exit signs which were only written in Japanese! (Yeah, okay, it’s true. If you showed me those signs in a different context, there’s a really good chance I wouldn’t have a clue what they were. Just let me pretend for a minute I’m making progress with this new language!) By the way, I did find a recycle bin, that when combined with our regular trash can (if it ever arrives), will handle most of our sorting needs.
Sunday, September 7--Jail Break
The crime wasn’t hers, but Alina did the time.
Japan is a rabies-free country, so they have some very stringent animal import laws to keep it that way. There is a very rigid protocol that must be followed in order to bring a pet from the States into Japan (unless you happen to live in Hawaii, which is also rabies-free). The whole process takes a minimum of 180 days, but closer to 210 days—which we didn’t have between finding out we were going to Japan and actually getting on the airplane.
First, your pet must be microchipped (thankfully done by the SPCA before I adopted Alina). Then the animal must have two rabies shots, at least 30 days apart. After the second rabies shot, blood must be drawn for a rabies antibody titer test (which can only be performed at two labs in the entire U.S.A.). From the day of the blood test, the pet must undergo 180 days of quarantine in the home country before being allowed to enter Japan. I still don’t get that part—there are absolutely no guidelines about the conditions of the quarantine. No one in Japan knew that I had a strictly indoor cat—for all they knew, I let her run free in the woods with rabid foxes and raccoons.
I followed every step of the import procedure, including filling out about 16 different forms and getting half of them stamped by the USDA, but we could not meet the 180 days of quarantine before we left. Instead of leaving Alina behind to be shipped over as cargo later (she may have done very well with this, but the thought of it gave me an anxiety attack), we brought her with us and arranged for her to finish out her quarantine at the kennel on base. For 34 days she stayed in kitty prison, listening to other cats meowing and small dogs yelping incessantly.
On Thursday, I paid her bail, and Alina got out of jail. She happily climbed into her carrier for the ride home, but was confused when she had to sit on the “wrong” side of the car. Once home, I showed her where her food and litter box were, then she seemed content to explore the rest of her new surroundings on her own. I thought she was adjusting pretty well, but she prowled around and cried most of the night. The next morning, I found her curled up in my sink in the bathroom. Today, when I went upstairs to make the bed, she had crawled down under the comforter, all the way to the foot of the bed. She’s having a hard time finding her comfort zone—at home it was under our bed, often in one of the duffel bags we kept stored under there (she wouldn’t go anywhere near the comfy kitty bed we put under there for her). Hopefully, once our stuff arrives, things will seem more familiar and she will settle down (like the rest of us).
Japan is a rabies-free country, so they have some very stringent animal import laws to keep it that way. There is a very rigid protocol that must be followed in order to bring a pet from the States into Japan (unless you happen to live in Hawaii, which is also rabies-free). The whole process takes a minimum of 180 days, but closer to 210 days—which we didn’t have between finding out we were going to Japan and actually getting on the airplane.
First, your pet must be microchipped (thankfully done by the SPCA before I adopted Alina). Then the animal must have two rabies shots, at least 30 days apart. After the second rabies shot, blood must be drawn for a rabies antibody titer test (which can only be performed at two labs in the entire U.S.A.). From the day of the blood test, the pet must undergo 180 days of quarantine in the home country before being allowed to enter Japan. I still don’t get that part—there are absolutely no guidelines about the conditions of the quarantine. No one in Japan knew that I had a strictly indoor cat—for all they knew, I let her run free in the woods with rabid foxes and raccoons.
I followed every step of the import procedure, including filling out about 16 different forms and getting half of them stamped by the USDA, but we could not meet the 180 days of quarantine before we left. Instead of leaving Alina behind to be shipped over as cargo later (she may have done very well with this, but the thought of it gave me an anxiety attack), we brought her with us and arranged for her to finish out her quarantine at the kennel on base. For 34 days she stayed in kitty prison, listening to other cats meowing and small dogs yelping incessantly.
On Thursday, I paid her bail, and Alina got out of jail. She happily climbed into her carrier for the ride home, but was confused when she had to sit on the “wrong” side of the car. Once home, I showed her where her food and litter box were, then she seemed content to explore the rest of her new surroundings on her own. I thought she was adjusting pretty well, but she prowled around and cried most of the night. The next morning, I found her curled up in my sink in the bathroom. Today, when I went upstairs to make the bed, she had crawled down under the comforter, all the way to the foot of the bed. She’s having a hard time finding her comfort zone—at home it was under our bed, often in one of the duffel bags we kept stored under there (she wouldn’t go anywhere near the comfy kitty bed we put under there for her). Hopefully, once our stuff arrives, things will seem more familiar and she will settle down (like the rest of us).
Wednesday, September 3--No Green Thumb Required
For anyone who heard me complain about the size of lots in neighborhoods we visited in the States, I take it all back. Here, you are lucky if you even have a lot. Since the entire population of Japan (127 million) lives in only 19% of the country’s land area, there are a lot of high-rise apartment dwellers. For those fortunate enough to live in a house in the suburbs (like us), you better like your neighbors. There is literally less than 10 feet between our house and our neighbors’ homes. This means that if you are outside or have your windows open, you can hear your neighbors talking, rattling dishes, playing the piano, closing cabinet doors (remember there is no insulation in the walls to help with sound-muffling).
This also means that yard work is a snap. Our yard does not have the first blade of grass in it! Not because grass won’t grow (the weeds do quite well) but because there’s absolutely no way you could cut it, short of getting on your hands and knees with a pair of scissors. Our yard is about 40 inches deep on the sides, and less than that in the back. You might be able to make a single pass with a small lawnmower (if it weren’t for all of the strange miniature manhole-type covers stuck up everywhere) but you’d never be able to turn the corner from the side of the house to the back. Even if you tried to cut the grass with a weed-whacker, you’d end up slicing off your feet at the ankles trying to maneuver in that small space. Consequently, our “yard” is gravel around the sides and back. The only maintenance required is weed-removal. The house had been vacant for several months when we moved in, so there were quite a few weeds, yet pulling every last one by hand today only took me about 45 minutes. Now that’s the kind of yard work I can handle!
The front “yard” is larger—possibly close to six feet deep. But there is no grass here either. Instead, it is full of trees and bushes, selected to give as much privacy from the street as possible. I recognize a crepe myrtle and several azaleas, but everything else is a mystery. Once Jim gets home with the camera (yes, I foolishly put mine in the pile of stuff to arrive via ship instead of carrying it with me) I will post pictures and y’all can help me try to figure out what else is out there. I feel like I should recognize some of them…especially the tree that is flowering now, with pretty white blooms that close up tight then drop off. Except for pulling weeds, there's nothing for me to do in this part of the yard either. A gardener comes twice a year, I assume to trim the precisely shaped shrubs--what else could he possibly do? If I want to exercise my own horticultural skills, I'm going to have to either create some container gardens for the front entrance or start collecting house plants again.
This also means that yard work is a snap. Our yard does not have the first blade of grass in it! Not because grass won’t grow (the weeds do quite well) but because there’s absolutely no way you could cut it, short of getting on your hands and knees with a pair of scissors. Our yard is about 40 inches deep on the sides, and less than that in the back. You might be able to make a single pass with a small lawnmower (if it weren’t for all of the strange miniature manhole-type covers stuck up everywhere) but you’d never be able to turn the corner from the side of the house to the back. Even if you tried to cut the grass with a weed-whacker, you’d end up slicing off your feet at the ankles trying to maneuver in that small space. Consequently, our “yard” is gravel around the sides and back. The only maintenance required is weed-removal. The house had been vacant for several months when we moved in, so there were quite a few weeds, yet pulling every last one by hand today only took me about 45 minutes. Now that’s the kind of yard work I can handle!
The front “yard” is larger—possibly close to six feet deep. But there is no grass here either. Instead, it is full of trees and bushes, selected to give as much privacy from the street as possible. I recognize a crepe myrtle and several azaleas, but everything else is a mystery. Once Jim gets home with the camera (yes, I foolishly put mine in the pile of stuff to arrive via ship instead of carrying it with me) I will post pictures and y’all can help me try to figure out what else is out there. I feel like I should recognize some of them…especially the tree that is flowering now, with pretty white blooms that close up tight then drop off. Except for pulling weeds, there's nothing for me to do in this part of the yard either. A gardener comes twice a year, I assume to trim the precisely shaped shrubs--what else could he possibly do? If I want to exercise my own horticultural skills, I'm going to have to either create some container gardens for the front entrance or start collecting house plants again.
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