Delays in posting

If you are reading my blog, sorry! ブログが遅れてごめんなさい！

I still have things to post about my trip to Japan, and maybe some other things I've been doing. Unfortunately, recently I've just been overwhelmed with other things to do, including having to move house at short notice. A crucial point here is that my new flat has no internet, so not only can I not blog there, I also have to venture several miles into town to do more urgent internet-requiring things, like try to inform the government of my new address. And I'm really tired!

When I have some free time and some energy, I hope to get back to writing about Japan and other things. I don't want to put up careless posts without really thinking about them and doing my best to entertain you a little bit.

Where Everybody Knows Your Name

Moving home is always a difficult time. You have to wrap up loose ends at work (well, school), bid farewell to all your colleagues, pack an astonishing amount of stuff that you've somehow acquired during your residence, make travel arrangements, clean up the house, exchange farewell cards with your favourite café...

Why are you looking at me like that?

Okay, so a long time ago - six months almost to the day - I first staggered bleary-eyed and heavy-laded into Fukuoka. I spent an hour running around with a ridiculous amount of luggage in 37C temperatures, trying to find the mobile phone I was supposed to collect. Then, sweaty and cross, I lugged a huge amount of stuff from the airport all the way to my apartment, trying as I did so to work out how all this worked. I met my landlord, and went through a thorough explanation of the apartment, all of which I immediately forgot due to exhaustion.

Having dumped everything in my apartment, and napped for about an hour, I took the train into the city. I was already pretty confused by this point, incredibly hot, and thoroughly moody. My Japanese was poor enough that the underground was confusing and stressful. The prospect of struggling with all this for the next six months was very oppressive. But I needed to get my bearings, and that meant going to Tenjin, where I planned to work out where the school actually was so I wouldn't be late when we started. It's also the place where most shops are, and I needed various hings if I was going to live here for six months.

Shortly after arriving, I encountered a Starbucks. Now, I'm not normally a fan of Starbucks, to be honest. In the UK, I usually find most other cafés serve a better cup of tea (not surprisingly, they are American, it's not their thing), am not a huge fan of their snacks, and object to their tax evasion. But in this case, there are some crucial facts:

• As a Western chain store, I knew broadly how things worked there. The menu would be broadly recognisable, the names mostly English, and the buying procedure familiar. You line up, ask for something, and pay for it. I had no idea what would happen if I tried going into a more Japanese café.
• It had large, glass windows so I could comfortably see the inside, which looked unthreatening. As a chain store with a counter and tables, I wasn't going to be disturbed by waiters with questions I didn't understand, or crammed together with strangers who might talk to me unexpectedly.
• They would probably be used to Westerners, who were likely to go there.
• They definitely served tea and coffee.
• It was right in front of me.

And so I went in, and stammeringly ordered a coffee from a very kind, patient person, and apologised for my poor Japanese.

It's strange which relationships end up being important to you. Most of the time, everyone is anonymous to everyone else. Occasionally, someone has a significant influence on your life, often without even knowing. Often, you do the same to other people and never know. What's important all depends on your situation: that phase of your life, that day, that very second.

Since the first time went so well, and it turned out to be right in the centre of town and on my route to school, I went again. And having virtually no grasp of traditional Japanese shopping etiquette, I did all the wrong things: said hello and goodbye to the staff, made off-the-cuff comments while I ordered or waited for my drink, asked how they were. They very kindly permitted all this, answered nicely, and considerably reduced the amount of formal Japanese they used talking to me in order that I could understand a word of it. After a while, N-san politely asked me my name and introduced herself.

A little while later, when I turned up to the café, N-san introduced me by name to the lady serving me, and from there events were more or less inevitable. I felt very comfortable and welcome, and started going regularly before school. It was a convenient place, I worked out how to order tea the way I liked it (although quite soon everyone remembered), and could come in early to study while being just a few minutes from school, so I avoided the rush hour. I started having breakfast there quite often - they had nice scones, which felt more substantial and healthier than what most cafes serve, though admittedly that's close to damning with faint praise. Fruit isn't typically on the menu in Japanese cafés, but I'd often eat a banana at home before heading to Starbucks.

Towards the end of my stay, I was going more or less every day, either for breakfast or just a pre-school drink. The staff all recognised me and welcomed me, and chatted a bit as they took my order or came past to clean tables, and I felt very much at home there. This was only emphasised by the contrast with most cafes; as I said, Japanese culture is for shop staff to be formal and polite, and therefore distant. The crew at Starbucks were interested in my plans, and said how sorry they were that I'd be leaving soon, and to be sure and say goodbye to them before I did.

Since the staff had always been so kind and welcoming, I wanted to show my appreciation with a little something, so I got them a card, and a couple of little edible gifts to share out. This, my second farewell card, was very slightly easier to write than the first, but required no less attention. Whereas my friendship with M-san was pretty simple, it took me quite a while to work out exactly what I was grateful to everyone at Starbucks for, and research how to express this, while trying not to go overboard. Effusive gratitude is generally a bit alarming (at least in my culture, I'm still not sure about Japan!) and it's not exactly common practice in the first place.

I was also sorry that I didn't know many people's names; it still felt rather intrustive to ask anyone, so I only knew N-san and one colleague. People in customers service are in a slightly awkward position, as I know myself, and asking them to reveal personal information always seems inappropriate, particularly as women tend to get a lot of unwanted attention.

Anyway, I went to say my final goodbyes on Friday, taking my little bag of gratitude with me (along with my enormous rucksack), and had my usual breakfast as a kind of symbolic gesture. I wasn't entirely surprised when N-san and a colleage came over, since they knew I was leaving. What I hadn't really expected was that they were bringing me a farewell card signed by all the staff! I was very touched, and somewhat flustered, and because the cafe's busy even early on they were a little distracted by keeping one eye on work, so handing over my own bag and stammering my gratitude was less smooth than I'd have hoped.

Inside not pictured for obvious reasons.

Still, I got to say thank-you to some people who have been very important in forming both my impressions and my experiences of Fukuoka. That first, often-reinforced impression of kindness and friendliness helped me to cope with the many difficulties of moving to Japan, and my regular fixture of study breakfasts there was a significant facet of my life in Fukuoka. I was able to get a photo taken with N-san (not posted to protect her anonymity), and wish I'd had a chance to get one of everybody.

Today I went to a different Starbucks and got a cup of tea from a stranger; I'm already missing them.

That's always the problem with building warm little nests for yourself. It's cold when you have to fly.

A Little Less Conversation

As the last of the term wears on, I continue slowly unpicking myself from the city into which I have grown these thin, tentative roots, hoping that not all of them will wither entirely in the process.

On Monday I had my last meeting with M-san, my conversation partner, and one of the first people I met in Fukuoka. Of the six people I was initially paired with, I only met a couple more than once. M-san has been a constant in my life here; we met for about four hours almost every week, which means I've spent about 100 hours chatting with her.

M-san introduced me to Fukuoka castle, amongst other pleasant places to wander. She showed me around interesting back streets, classy department stores, and second-hand manga shops. We have watched turtles and herons in Ohori Park, browsed Y100 goods, eaten doughnuts and tempura (not at the same time, I hasten to add), and sipped an awful lot of coffee in an array of cafés. She was an invaluable source of information on everyday life in Japan, cheerfully helping me track down household essentials and presents.

More than this, M-san has probably been the single greatest thing for my Japanese. My teachers have worked hard to instil me with grammar, pronunciation, situation-appropriate styles of conversation, and all the other technical essentials - even keigo - but for building your confidence in a language, it's hard to beat spending four hours a week discussing a bewildering array of technical topics. Amongst things I can remember, we've discussed the demographic and political history of the UK, trends in gender roles, geek culture, food (quite a lot), opera and theatre, literary criticism, fashion, Lovecraftian fiction and horse-riding. Admittedly this was in a mixture of Japanese and English - it'd be a pretty lopsided language exchange otherwise - but it really forced me to up my game in terms of explaining concepts to someone without the technical terminology. It also meant I quite rapidly pushed past the troublesome 'bland' stage, where you can only have quite straightforward conversations about simple topics. It's very easy to sit there forever, because you don't feel comfortable with the frustration of trying to discuss complex things, and because other people realise you can't do so and avoid those topics. So I'm very grateful to M-san for hoisting me up beyond it.

All those conversations also did wonders for my confidence. By regularly speaking a lot of Japanese, in a natural setting, about quite unpredictable and complex topics, I got much more comfortable with the idea. Classroom practice is good, but typically restricted by focusing on particular topics, and often it's very scripted - sometimes literally. You're also competing for time with the other learners, all of us making mistakes. One interesting result of our conversations was that my performance in class improved a lot, which left me more comfortable and confident talking to the teachers, which led to me getting to know them much better, having more conversations, getting book and travel recommendations, and just generally improved my Japanese once again. It's the synergies, as the 90s would say.

I've also enjoyed our conversations for their own sake, as well as the challenge of trying to explain aspects of British culture that I don't fully understand or only vaguely remember. It's been good practice! Frequently I am grateful for my linguistics degree, as I try to tease out grammatical distinctions or implications from some phrase.

So it was with great reluctance and full of mourn that I finally left M-san on Monday. We stayed out a bit later than usual, chatting through all kinds of things, and exchanged some small gifts. I painstakingly wrote out a thank-you card, trying to strike that awkward goal of "heartfelt gratitude" between "politeness of princes" and Love Actually through the cultural barrier. And we got someone to take a photograph.

Yes, the contrast between perpetually-elegant M-san and my unshaven, scruffy self is a tad unedifying. Luckily I am largely obscured by the flash reflecting off this window. Maybe one day we'll meet again, and I'll get up in time to shave.

Ready to roll?

I've just about finished packing for tomorrow. A few things (like this laptop!) will need to be tucked in first thing tomorrow, ready to head out for breakfast at delightful Manchester Airport. I'm taking one 20kg suitcase, one day rucksack and a laptop bag, which has caused a bit of consternation in some circles. The thing is though, 6 months is a slightly odd time to be going for. It's long enough that it makes sense to buy a few things in Japan if I need them, rather than carry them over (with hassle and extra cost) just on the off-chance. I need some new clothes already, so it makes sense to take a week's supply and supplement it in Japan, rather than trying to buy stuff here and then needing to transport it. On the other hand, it's not long enough to make it worth sending over large amounts of stuff that I can manage without - and let us not forget the expected titchiness of my room.

Speaking of which, a bit of research has turned up some hopefully-handy info. I discovered that the Delco Homes apartments listed by GenkiJACS here look very, very similar to the ones listed by Fukuoka YMCA here! And more importantly, while it's clearly not the exact same rooms being discussed, some of the photos on the YMCA site help clear up the GenkiJACS photos.

Above: Image from Google Street View of the address from GenkiJACS
Below: Image from YMCA of the Delco Homes apartments

These are clearly not the same apartment, but, from looking at the YMCA photo with its better angle and without a box in the way, it seems pretty obvious that the thing in the back is a kettle resting on a hob. While obviously not a guarantee, this suggests that there may actually be a hob in my apartment, rather than just a microwave and rice cooker, which would make a massive difference.

On the downside, it would seem to make getting a cuppa much more hassle than it needs to be, but swings and roundabouts, right?

The plan for tonight is to get a few hours' sleep with the hope that I'll pass out on the plane for at least a little while. I just heard today that GenkiJACS have changed a couple of arrangements, which is just slightly unnerving: the apartment manager is actually going to meet me, rather than leaving a key in a deposit box, which has upsides and downsides. Also, they want to hold placement tests on Sunday avvy rather than Monday morning. Neither is very serious, but I find it a little jarring to have last-minute changes like this.

Moving day

So another milestone passed today as I moved out of my place in Oxford, dumping a vast pile of stuff onto my long-suffering parents. This move bore uncanny similarities to my work on the university's REF submission last year.

I'm horrified by the sheer amount of stuff I've managed to accumulate here. It's partly due to having hobbies that call for stuff (games), and substantially due to my reading habits. A lot of what I read is hard to come by in libraries, and so I tend to buy it or get it for birthdays, and then am reluctant to get rid of what was hard to acquire. I also have a lot of household stuff on account of living in two unfurnished flats. It's inconvenient to not have suitable kitchen stuff, for example, and while individual bits aren't that expensive, re-equipping a whole kitchen is not a cheap prospect.

This stage isn't quite over, as I have lots of unwelcome arranging-of-stuff to get done over the weekend. Just hoping for a good night's sleep to set me up for it.

Yesterday I had my final lesson with the amazing Naoko-sensei, which was a little melancholy. Seeing as it inspired me to move continent for six months, you can probably guess how much I've enjoyed our lessons this past year.

Boxing clever

What with having to ship all my stuff back to my long-suffering parents' house while I gallivant, obviously I need quite a lot of boxes. I had some when I last moved, but that was six years ago, so most are long recycled. Luckily I was able to scrounge a few (not enough, as yet) from work before leaving, but drawbacks presented themselves:

• It's a twenty-minute walk, enough to make your arms ache. If you don't believe me, try holding your arms out in front of you for twenty minutes.
• It's a fairly busy route with narrow streets full of A-sign advertising the shop you are literally right outside, beggars and millions of blasted bikes fastened to every conceivable surface - box-carriers are not welcome.
• It's fairly warm right now, so on the plus side not much rain, but carrying more than one box on top of my normal bag is unwelcome effort.
• Boxes are really annoying to carry!

While I was able to cart a few smallish ones home, bigger boxes are a problem - too tall to hoist under your armpit and hold with your hand, too big to squash up into a plazzy bag like the others, so what to do? Luckily, my supervisor had an idea:

Good old British ingenuity at its finest! A nice little lifehack I thought I should share.

1. Fold box down into flatpack
2. Fold box in half
3. Insert bag between halves of box
4. Wrap tape around box and through handle of bag
5. Carry home easily

Cooking with gas

After continued frustration with insurance companies (short version: don't bother with Direct Line) I had a Monday off in lieu of weekend working. Keeping the old nose to the grindstone, it's actually been a very productive day. After a marathon 2-hour Japanese lesson (with a distressing amount of vocab forgotten) I nipped into STA Travel, where I was able to speak to a human being in person, and get insurance sorted in a matter of ten minutes - most of that reading out loud of obligatory financial regulation stuff. They weren't bothered about some counselling sessions a few months ago provided I wasn't on medication or regular doctors' visits. So yay.

I've also managed to pick up visitors' permits so that Mum & Dad can park the van they're bringing down to collect my stuff, and called in to check about getting some yen. In fact they had them in stock, and it sort of seemed easier just to deal with it rather than have to try and find another time to make the trip, so I did so. Walking back home was a bit alarming, I don't normally carry that sort of cash around with me, though it's not that much in the grand scheme of things. Enough to get me through the first week or so without stressing about cash machines.