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.