{"id":94,"date":"2024-01-14T14:12:02","date_gmt":"2024-01-14T05:12:02","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/sites.temple.edu\/tujeanes\/?p=94"},"modified":"2024-02-01T23:03:57","modified_gmt":"2024-02-01T14:03:57","slug":"bureaucracy-distilled-meet-your-local-ward-office","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/sites.temple.edu\/tujeanes\/2024\/01\/14\/bureaucracy-distilled-meet-your-local-ward-office\/","title":{"rendered":"Bureaucracy distilled: Meet your local ward office"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

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<\/a> that I mentioned that upon arrival, you’re given a resident card (zairy\u016b<\/em>\u00a0\u5728\u7559) that is reminiscent of a driver’s license–this, along with your passport, must be taken to your local ward office (kuyakusho<\/em> \u533a\u5f79\u6240) to complete the registration process.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

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The system is unabashedly bureaucratic from the moment you walk in the door. There are stacks of forms, rows of chairs, ample signage (including plenty of house-made printouts taped here and there), and, of course, one of those “take a number, wait your turn” board things. There are even numbered windows that are assigned to handle specific requests–for this particular license, you need window 5, but for that sort of declaration, go to window 2.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Visually and procedurally, visiting such an office is exactly the same as any other bureaucratic encounter you’ve had before. But the psychological and experientially, it couldn’t be more different.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For one thing, the people are diligent and fastidious, but they are also pleasant<\/em>. There is no eye-rolling, loud sighing, or outwardly hostile body language, nor is there any kind of lingering air of resentment or bitterness–you know, all of the things that make bureaucratic offices the butts of oh-so-many jokes back in the USA.<\/p>\n\n\n

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Okay, back to the whole reason you will need to come here–if you’re issued a visa that lasts longer than 90 days, the Japanese government considers you a “resident,” so you’ll need to bring the zairy\u016b<\/em> you were given at the airport, along with your passport, to your local ward office to register your home location.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The form to complete is available in English (mostly), but there are a few things to be aware of that might save some time, as my colleague Sheri and I discovered:<\/p>\n\n\n\n