Let's Talk Trash!

   Let’s talk trash!  I had no idea when I moved here that the Japanese were so organized when it comes to trash.  But upon arrival I got a lesson in Japanese trash collection “etiquette” in the area orientation brief, the housing brief, the housing handbook, and at the lease signing.  OK, I got it; they’re serious about trash! 

   Interestingly enough, on base there is little or no effort to sort the trash, so everything goes into a single trashcan in most offices.  [So does someone go through later and sort?]

   However, living off base is a different story.  As it turns out, at my apartment I’m required to sort trash into five different categories.  The categories are:

l   Burnable refuse,

l   Plastic containers and packaging,

l   Cans, bottles, and PET bottles,

l   Non-burnable refuse, and

l   Group resource collection.

   Burnable refuse is incinerated, plastic and cans/bottles are recycled, and non-burnable refuse is landfilled.

   So, to try and keep it straight I bought four trashcans for the house so when I dispose of something it can go right away into the correct bin.  It saves sorting through your own trash to separate later. (And yes, it was a lesson learned when I first moved in.  Nasty . . . )

   As you can see from the photo below, I’ve got the four labeled bins in the kitchen.  (The fifth category, “group resource collection” is for stacks of newspaper or boxes of old clothes, not particularly applicable to me.)  You can also see the collection schedule posted on the side of the fridge.  Cans and bottles go on Monday, burnable on Tuesday and Friday, etc.  There’s also a 12-page booklet that describes what goes in which.  For example (if enquiring minds want to know), the hard cardboard tube at the end of plastic your food wrap roll is considered non-recyclable paper, and goes in “burnable refuse”.  But, your toilet paper roll should be included in “group resource collection”.  You definitely need a program to know the players. 

"Trash Central" at the apartment

   There’s a garbage collection site in front of the building, a 6” x 6” area with a fine net mesh over the top.  The crows and sea gulls here are apparently notorious for going through the trash and scattering stuff all over, so the nets keep them out of the trash bags.  Some areas in front of homes in the area have a metal mesh box that the trash goes in.  (One of the considerations in selecting a place to live is where the parking place(s) and garbage collection sites are; sometimes they aren’t contiguous to the home/apartment).  I mentioned trash bags, and the 12-page booklet describes what’s acceptable:  transparent bags for everything but burnable refuse, which, to quote from the trash guide can be in “Polyethylene bags (colorless, transparent bags or white, semi-transparent bags) or plastic bags made with calcium carbonate (white, semi-transparent bags)”. 

   So of course the newcomers here are all thinking, “So what if I put out the burnable refuse on Wednesday instead of Tuesday/Friday, or put a plastic bottle in the non-burnable refuse?”  And the answer is that the one of the reasons that we use clear bags is so that the trash collectors can tell what’s in the bags, and if it’s the wrong thing, they won’t pick it up, and they’ll expect you to put it out on the right day.  If it’s left in the wrong place or has mixed trash in the same bag, they’ll put a notice on it (orange), and expect you to fix the problem.  Apparently there have been “gaijins” in the past who flagrantly flaunted the trash rules, and if leaving notices didn’t fix the problem, the city has contacted the base and the individual’s Commanding Officer.  (I can see it now:  “Sorry honey, but the reason I got sent home from Japan was that I couldn’t figure out whether foil-lined cardboard went out in the burnable refuse or the group resource collection . . .” [the guide spell it out]).

   I live next to the bay, and most every day (and certainly all weekend) there are folks who stop along the seawall to fish.  Unfortunately some of them end up leaving cans, bottles, and trash when they leave.  A week ago someone left two bags of trash, a bicycle, and two wooden pallets along the seawall.  I didn’t notice how long it took, but a few days later there were notices on all the items. 

   We have an apartment complex cleaning lady who is here weekday mornings, and she cleans all the common areas (not inside my apartment, unfortunately!), and one of the things she does on Monday mornings is to clean up the street and seawall directly in front of the building (cans and bottles, not bags of trash). 

   On the other hand, one of the things that I notice here is that there is a noticeable lack of public trashcans throughout the city.  The train stations are usually pretty good about having individual bins for separating trash, but out on the street they’re few and far between.  I guess no one wants to either have four trash cans at every corner or have to sort later.

   Speaking of bicycles earlier, I have seen notices on bikes at train stations where bikes are illegally parked, and later, the bike is gone, and there’s a notice taped to the sidewalk where the bike was parked.  Of course it’s in Japanese, but my guess is that it says, “We took your illegally parked bike, come see us to get it back.  Signed, the Police.”

   So who’d think that I could spend an entire post on the joys of trash in Japan?

My Apartment

   I’m in San Diego for two weeks for the holidays and a year-end meeting at work.  I was struck by a comment from my sister-in-law when I got here who said, “Welcome home from your trip!”  It felt that way, but really I’m here in San Diego on a trip from “home” for a year; still a little hard to get my arms around that one.

   It’s been harder than I thought to get settled in Japan:  as I’m fond of saying, “There’s lots of moving parts.”  I realize that I have taken for granted the smooth functioning of a household that Sally and I have crafted over the last 25 years in San Diego.  But when you have to think about what makes up a household, and then procure the physical things to support that idea, it’s a challenge.  I’m used to replacing a sponge when it wears out, not thinking, “Oh, I have to supply the house with sponges, cleanser, a dust mop, a dust pan and brush, trash bags, facial tissue, etc., etc.”  The other aspect is that I know it’s all temporary, so I don’t want to go out and buy an expensive vacuum cleaner and then turn around and sell it / give it away after a year.  Not to mention furniture . . .

   I did decide to get a few “tangibles” around the house.  I got a coat rack, table and chairs, and a simple desk and office chair at IKEA in Yokohama.  And after sleeping on a sleeping bag and air mattress for a week, I got a futon.  As opposed to the American version of the futon, this is the Japanese version that is thin enough to be folded up and put away in the futon closet (“oshiire”) every day, making space in the room to do other things.  A whole new meaning to “making the bed”.  The sheets are a one-piece, zippered cover that the futon fits inside, then zips up.  The comforter just lies over the top.  I think there is a comforter cover available that protects it from wear and dirt, but I haven’t figured out quite where to get it or how it works.  It was an interesting process trying to figure out what I needed for my futon bed.  I asked around and folks said that lots of places carried futons and accouterments, but that AVE (a large “Target”-like store pronounce EH-VEE) had the best selection/price.  I figured out from the icons on the comforters that the comforter package with the sheep on it meant that it was wool, and the one with the goose on it meant that it was down, and the third one was polyester.  (So if it was up to you, what icon would YOU use to indicate polyester?)  Actually I can read one of the two Japanese phonetic “alphabets”, so I could sound out PA-RI-E-SU-TA (polyester).  The other two were in kanji, the complex, Chinese-inspired ideograms that I don’t know yet.  I figured out that the sheets with a bed pictured on the package were for western-style beds, whereas the ones with futons pictured were for futons (duh!).  Then I had to make sure that the sheet sizes matched the futon.  And of course it’s not “queen” and “king”; it’s 105 X 210 centimeters, etc. 

   As an American shopping in Japan, I have a whole new appreciation for what illiterate people must go through trying to shop.  Thank goodness for pictures on packaging!  Having said that, I still love going into Japanese stores, especially hardware stores, and thinking, “What’s that, and how the heck do you use it?”  One product I saw in a store near the laundry products was two curved plastic pieces about six inches long, hinged together and sprung like a “claw”.  Turns out it is used when you hang your futons out to air.  You double the futon over the balcony railing (if you live in an apartment like I do), or over a bamboo pole, and use the “claw” to hold the futon in place so the wind doesn’t blow it down.  Ingenious, and a tool for a specific purpose that I would have never even thought of in the States.  It’d be hard to use clothespins on a three-inch thick futon . . .

   To go back to an earlier theme, here are some photos of the apartment.  This is the entry way with the “genkan” where you leave your shoes.  And my new dog, courtesy IKEA, that I named Honey, so that when I get back after a long day’s work I can say, “Honey, I’m home!”

"Genkan" and Honey

   This is the living room (note the view out over Tokyo Bay).  I also bought a TV at the Navy Exchange, and the TV table at the on-base second hand store for $5.

Living Room with view

   Below is my favorite room of the house, and one of the main reasons I chose the apartment.  It’s the tatami room, measured by how many tatami mats fit in the room.  Tatamis are made from a tightly packed, coarse rice straw mat about two inches thick, and topped with a finely woven rice straw cover.  They are one of the primary reasons that Japanese remove their shoes before entering a house.  The tatamis last practically forever, but wouldn’t if abraded by shoes and outside dirt and mud.  Many Japanese homes have mostly wooden or tile floors throughout the house, but one room with the traditional tatami mats.  Inside the sliding glass doors (that lead to my balcony) the doors are “shoji” screens, a wooden frame covered with thick shoji paper that gives privacy, but lets light in.  Shoji screens are also used in Japanese homes to partition large rooms.

Tatami Room

   Here's the "study".

Study

   Enough for now, time to go to work.  More later on how I have to separate the trash and put out five different types on different days.

Hasedera Temple

   I had a chance to visit the Hasedera temple grounds in Kamakura recently.  I have visited before (several times over the years), but this was different.  I have always gone during the day when they are generally open, but apparently this time of year they do a special event where they light up the premises and the fall foliage, and open the grounds from sunset for a few hours.  Being there at night gives the whole place a different feel and look, and the stars of the show are the red-leaved Japanese maples all through the temple grounds.  There are several ponds, and the reflections of the lighted leaves against an inky black sky are striking. 

Lighted Japanese maples against night sky

   I really love the stone lanterns, they come in so many sizes, shapes, designs and textures.  I may have to figure out how to get one back to the States . . .  I’m guessing it’ll be too heavy for a suitcase.

Lighted maples and stone lantern

   Unfortunately you can’t take pictures of it, but there is a 30-foot tall carved and gilded statue of the “eleven-headed Kannon” at the temple.  According to the brochure, “Kannon is usually described as the “Buddhist goddess of mercy”, but strictly speaking it is neither masculine or femine.  Kannon is a bodhisattva (a future Buddha destined for enlightenment who has vowed to save all sentient beings), and represents compassion, mercy and love.”  According to legend, this statue at Hasedera is one of two carved from the same large camphor tree around 720 AD.  One is in Nara where the tree grew, and this one was thrown in the sea near Osaka, and washed ashore near Kamakura fifteen years later, sending out rays of light as it did.  The temple was built to house and honor the statue.  The gold leaf that covers it was added in 1342. (That almost makes it “recent” in Japanese history [grin].  Being here resets your sense of “old” pretty quickly.)

   In addition to the Kannon, there are lots of statues of Jizo on the grounds.  Jizo is a bodhisattva “possessing great powers including all the blessings of the Earth”.  The rows and rows of Jizo statues are “there to comfort the souls of unborn children”.  The statues are usually adorned with red caps and bibs (because red is the color for expelling demons and illness), and people often leave little children’s toys next to them.  Jizo is almost always depicted with a “six-ring” staff in one hand and a wish-granting jewel in the other.  The staff has rings at the top that jingle when the staff is used as a walking stick, and the sound is to warn any sentient beings to get out of the path of the walker, so that Jizo will not inadvertently step on an insect and break the Buddhist injunction against the taking of any life.   There are lots of stories and versions of Jizo, but this gives you the concept.  Again, at night with lights it gives the whole tableau a new dimension altogether.

Rows of Jizo statues

   I’m hoping to continue visiting temples and shrines here in Japan, especially when they have special events like this or yearly festivals.  More on that later.

Vending Machines and English Slogans

   I’m sitting here drinking a can of coffee and admiring the view, waiting for the cable guy to come and hook me up with internet.  You may have noticed that I said CAN, not CUP of coffee.  Among other things, Japan is famous for the plethora of items you can get in a vending machine on the street, and in my mind the canned coffee tops the list.  As it turns out, there is a vending machine about three doors down from my apartment building on the street.  As is typical, this machine has both hot and cold drinks.  A blue button indicates the cold drinks, and a red button indicates the cold ones.  So I could have chosen my can of “Georgia Max Coffee” cold or hot, but on a chilly day like today, I chose hot.  There are gazillion brands of canned coffee available, some black, most with cream and sugar.  There is one brand named “Boss” and the iconic marketing photo on their vending machines is of Tommy Lee Jones with head thrown back and gazing into the distance.

   Also in the machine are cans/bottles of soda, fruit juice, tea (green tea, black tea, milk tea), “sports drink”, and vitamin drink.  One of my personal favorites is “Calpis”, a tasty, refreshing drink whose taste makes you wonder about the acuity of their marketing/branding department.  In other machines I have seen on the street you can get beer, whiskey, and soup, not to mention batteries and other sundry items; (I plan to keep a running list of what I see in the machines).

   I said earlier that I’d mention something about the Japanese love for anything in English.  I’m reminded of seeing tattoos of Chinese/Japanese characters on “gaijins” and wondering, “Do they REALLY know what those characters mean?”  I have this suspicion that most of them say “Yankee go home!” or “I still wet the bed!” and that they are a constant source of amusement to the Japanese people.  Having said that, my experience is that the Japanese are fond of having items with English “slogans” on them.  It can be tee-shirts, handbags, jackets, or sweatshirts, but I always keep my eye out for them because it appears that the most important criteria is that they are in English, not that they make sense in English. 

   Recently I stopped on my bicycle waiting to cross at a light, and I noticed an attractive young lady waiting with a handbag that had one word in English repeated in a pattern all over the bag.  The word was “MILKFED”.  On the train, the guy next to me had a hoodie with the following lettering:

Active Resort

63

Blow the cobwebs away.

Have a heavenly time.

Look to the seaward.

Dash against.

   On the same train, there was an advertisement for the GAP, and the tag line was “Joy it up”.  The next week I was on a train and on a jacket back was:

Bone Soul

To produce for human being

When man makes progress

Quality makes equal progress

   I don’t know, maybe it’s “haiku meets low-ku”.  On previous trips to Japan I have seen little old ladies carrying bags with slogans that had four-letter words in them that NO little old lady should be seen carrying.

   Today I was in the 100-yen store (more about that later), and I saw a couple of brand names that caught my eye.  One was “Magic Flakes Cracker Sandwiches”, which looked like it was basically peanut butter between saltine crackers.  Then there was “Zackly”, which was “choco cream and banana cream” between unsalted saltines.  I say that with some authority, because for 100 yen I just had to try that.  It was OK, but I guess you could say that it wasn’t “Zackly” my cup of tea.  My favorite of the day was “Cratz”, which from the picture on the bag looked like pretzel chunks and almonds.  Sounds good enough until you saw the flavor:  anchovies and garlic.

   More later . . .

New Apartment and Breakfast

   Last time I said I’d talk about the breakfast choices at the hotel, and I will, but I really want to talk about my NEW apartment.  I’m sitting here typing in my NEW apartment, and enjoying the view over Tokyo Bay from my NEW apartment.  Did I mention that I have a NEW apartment?  OK, breakfast . . .

   At the Hotel New Yokosuka (as well as other hotels where I have stayed here in Yokosuka) there’s definitely a melding of cultures when it comes to the free breakfast they serve.  Since the hotels I have stayed in here are close to the Navy Base, and have a relatively high percentage of fellow “gaijins”, you can usually get eggs to order.  Of course there’s toast, butter, and jelly, but with Japanese bread, which is about 1.5 times bigger, and a little thicker, than a typical slice of US bread.  And usually there’s sausage, bacon, or ham, and corn flakes with milk, and orange juice, and fruit.  Then the fun starts.  There’s also a large cooker with rice in it (to which you can help yourself with the “rice paddle”) and a pot of miso soup.  To accompany the rice, there are Japanese pickles made of tiny cucumbers, “daikon” radish, seaweed, or salted plums.  Often there is a vegetable or vegetable medley (usually with broccoli), and a chicken or pork dish.  Sometimes there are “shumai” (basically Japanese potstickers), and sometimes deep-fried cutlets of chicken or pork.  Oh, and usually a green salad with your choice of dressing.  

   So the bad news is that I don’t really know what Japanese people eat for breakfast.  Is it the things we got at the hotel, or was that just what the hotel thought we gaijins wanted/needed?  I noticed that the Japanese folks who stayed at the hotel seemed to eat a cross-sampling of the offered fare, not unlike we gaijins, but maybe it was a novelty to them to have eggs and sausage for breakfast like it was odd for me to have miso soup and shumai.  More research is in order.

   I’m very excited about my NEW apartment (but you could probably tell that earlier).  It’s a three-beer story about the ups and downs of arranging the lease, so if you buy me three beers the next time I see you, I’ll tell all.  The short version is that I went through the Navy housing office on base, found the place, and signed the lease.  It’s a two-bedroom apartment and is $3,200 a month (depending on the yen conversion rate).  In order to sign the lease, I had to come up with the first month’s rent, and the agent fee, landlord fee, and the security deposit, all equal to one month’s rent.  So when I went to the bank to convert dollars to yen for the lease signing, I felt rich, because I walked around with a MILLION yen for a day.

   The apartment is in the Miharucho section of Yokosuka, and is right on the water.  I have a small two-lane road right in front of the apartment building, then a sea wall, then Tokyo Bay.  I can see some of the buildings on base up the coast, and I look out on Sarushima (Monkey Island) about a mile away.  Off in the distance past that I can see some of the tall buildings in Yokohama (still on this side of the bay), and directly across the bay I can see the refineries on the Boso Peninsula in Chiba.  Tokyo is a very busy port, and I can see out to the ship traffic lanes.  Through binoculars today I scanned the bay and from one end of my view to the other, saw 99 boats or ships, not counting the small boats tending the fishing nets.  I saw freighters, container ships, liquid natural gas ships, car carriers, and LOTS of fishing boats.  At night I can see the lights of passing ships, and the blinking lights of the buoys that define the traffic separation scheme.  The photo is of the full moon over the water, with ships in the distance and the lights from Chiba.

   On the seawall in front of the building there are fishermen pitting their wiles against the denizens of the deep (and from what I’ve seen, not succeeding so well).  The largest thing I’ve seen on the end of a line so far has been a six-incher.  Then there’s the question of whether it’s wise to eat anything that one would catch out of Tokyo Bay . . .

   I met my next-door neighbor today; he’s a gaijin who works at the Naval Hospital in the anesthesiology department.  Good guy to know if I want to knock myself out, I guess.  

   I’ve been riding my bike or taking the train back and forth to work so far.  If I take the train, I walk about 10 minutes to the Horinouchi train station, ride the train two stops (130 yen, or about $1.73), then walk about 15 minutes to the office; all in all about 35 minutes.  If I ride my bike, I can make it to the office in 20-25 minutes, and it’s all level.  The streets are busy, but the main road I take has a bike/pedestrian sidewalk that means I don’t have to ride in the street hardly at all.  Having a bike at work also helps in that if I have to get around base, I can ride rather than walk.  The base is pretty spread out, so the mobility really helps.

   Enough for now, next time I’ll talk about sightseeing and the Japanese fondness for anything in English on their products.

Welcome to Japan

   Well, I’m here.  For those of you who don’t know, “gaijin” is Japanese for “foreigner”, and that’s what I’ll be here in Japan for a year or so.  So I thought I’d muse about what it’s like to be a foreigner in Japan.

   After a 12-hour flight here to Tokyo, I took the train for two hours to Yokosuka where I’ll be living and working.  I checked in to the Hotel New Yokosuka where I had stayed several times before.  I had asked for one of the “residential” rooms, but the only thing they had available was a “standard” room (standard meaning tiny).  In the standard room, in addition to the small bathroom, there is a double bed with about three feet of room around two sides of the bed, a two-foot wide “closet”, some cubby holes for clothes, and a small desk area.  After one night in the room I decided that there wasn’t room for both of us, so either my luggage or I had to go. 

   Luckily, I checked with the front desk and a residential room had opened up.  It has, by comparison, LOTS of room, but it’s still smaller than your typical stateside Holiday Inn room.  It’s designed for long-term occupancy, so it has some amenities.  A kitchen area that consists of a two-burner electric stove, a sink, a 1- by 2-foot counter area, and some cupboard space.  Most Japanese kitchens (even in homes) don’t have ovens, so my room also comes with a toaster oven, in which two pieces of bread will just barely fit.  And of course a rice cooker.  In addition I have a small microwave oven and a refrigerator.  The refrigerator is bigger than the “mini” ones you sometimes see in hotel rooms, but small by US standards.  There is decent closet, drawer, and cupboard space for clothes and “stuff”. 

   The room also comes with a washer/dryer.  Not a washer and dryer (that would take up too much room), but a machine that washes and then dries your clothes.  You stick in the clothes with some detergent, and three or four hours later (yes, I said three or four), you clothes are done.  For socks and underwear it’s great, for dress shirts and pants, not so much.  My “no-iron” shirts and pants still need ironing, but the other stuff comes out really soft to the touch. 

   All for now; next time I’ll talk about breakfast choices . . .