Yakitori chicken stand in Japan at street food vendor market

Little differences, part 3

So many little surprises that keep popping up, almost every day. It’s a delight. (Continued from last time…)

  • Japanese people are exceedingly polite. You will hear arigato gozaimasu (which, to my untrained ear, typically sounds more like “are-EE-gah-toh-DYE-mass-soo”) many times daily. I still need to learn how to say “I’m sorry”/”excuse me” since my copious and corpulent Western body is certain to cause some disasters that have yet to occur.
Sukiyabashi intersection

Little differences, part 2

I am going to have to be a lot more disciplined to make sure that I adequately document my time abroad, but as I need to get to bed after a good (but long) day of classes and other tasks, here are more little differences I’ve noticed, continued from last time

  • Keep to the left… most of the time. Actually, it’s better to look for directional arrows that will show you which side of the path or stairs to stay on. It’ll also keep you from accidentally colliding with someone coming from the opposite direction.
Isometric stacks of paperwork and files in the office

Bureaucracy distilled: Meet your local ward office

One of the many little things that you will be expected to do as a long-term resident (that is, someone on a visa that is valid for more than 90 days) is to register your residency. You may recall from an earlier post that I mentioned that upon arrival, you’re given a resident card (zairyū 在留) that is reminiscent of a driver’s license–this, along with your passport, must be taken to your local ward office (kuyakusho 区役所) to complete the registration process.

If you are accustomed to American bureaucracy, particularly the variety that thrives in places like the DMV or the Post Office, prepare yourself, because you’re going to experience something totally unexpected.

Detail from local recycling guide

Little differences, part 1

I thought it might be interesting to compile a running list of the little differences I notice as an outsider visiting a brand new cultural landscape. Note that none of these observations are meant as criticisms or critiques, as I don’t believe that there is necessarily a “right” or “wrong” way to simply be. Rather, my intention is to try and cultivate more mindful awareness of my environment, regardless of where I am, and challenging my own pervasive, preexisting notions of “how things are supposed to be done” seems to be a good way to do that.

Plus, it’s just fun!