Tuesday, 9/30/2014 Movies, Shopping, and Ramen

I set my alarm for 7:30am, but I didn’t get up until 7:40. I got ready as quickly as I could, demolished a banana, and speedwalked to the subway station, which I estimated was 30 minutes away. I left at about 8:05. At the elevator on my floor, a Japanese girl got off as I got on, so now I’ve seen one of my neighbors. I also brought my non-plastic trash outside to the cage. I got to the station by 8:30. The crowds out on the streets were very different at this time of day. Close to my apartment, middle-aged women in yellow vests stood at each intersection, and police officers stood at the biggest ones. Elementary school kids in yellow hats—baseball caps for boys, sun hats for girls that had a visor that went all the way around but was smaller in the back—yelled and chased each other as they walked to school. Middle schoolers in uniform and high schoolers in regular clothes (or vice versa?) rode their bikes along the roads and sidewalks. Salarymen and women going to work also rode their bikes. All the bike riders had intense expressions of concentration as they raced through the crowds of pedestrians and fellow bikers. The road was full of car as well. I got lots of stares.

At the train station, I had no trouble finding my station on the map, since there was only one line and therefore one set of platforms. I thought I was late, but I wasn’t going to run, and I couldn’t speed up the train. The train was very crowded when I got on; I was squeezed against the people next to me. But lots of people got off at every station until Sendai Station, so I had a seat for most of the ride.

At Nagamachi-minami Station, I looked at the local map on the wall to figure out what exit to take. I found the exit leading to the mall and went outside. A-san had told me that I would have to enter the mall through the parking lot if it was early, so I followed a random woman to the entrance. I was able to enter the mall, but all the stores had nets hung up in front of them. There were people sitting on benches waiting. It was about 8:40am, and most of the stores didn’t open until 10am, according to the sign I saw at the doorway. I asked a security guard standing in the hallway between 2 stores how to get to the movie theater. He said I had to go outside to the next building, since the connecting hallway between the two parts of the mall wasn’t open yet. I found the movie theatre MOVIX, which was on the 4^th floor of the 2^nd building. I went to the ticket counter, and since it was past 8:30am, which I thought was the starting time for the movie I wanted to see, I asked them which movies I could see right away. They pulled out a book of movie posters, and the fourth one they pointed to was “When There Was Marnie,” the movie I had planned to see. Apparently it actually started at 8:50am, so I was still in time. I was able to get the student discount (1,100 yen for a ticket) despite not having my student ID yet (which I emphasized, but for once they didn’t want proof).

I went to the concession stand and bought a bottle of water and a cup of iced Royal Milk Tea. The tea was horrifically sweet, so I was glad for the water. Later, the ice melted and watered it down, thankfully. I went to the bathroom, and then I went to the theatre. I had to ask the people at the desk since I wasn’t sure which theatre it was. There was about 4-5 other people watching the movie: 2 men and 3 women, I think.

The movie was enjoyable, if not a little strange. I understood almost everything. I found it appropriate to describe the way I’ve been feeling in Sendai so far. Like the main character Anna, people are nice to me, but I have no real friends. Like Anna, some of it is because I get nervous about interacting with people, and some of it is because I need someone to interact with me who is genuinely interested in being my friend. But it’s still early. I expect things to change once classes start tomorrow and I go to orientation on Thursday. And once I have consistent internet access.

I liked the song that played during the credits. It was an English song, and the singer described herself as a loner who enjoys reading books and spending time by herself, but sometimes she gets so lonely she cries and wonders if anyone would remember her if she died.

Everyone stayed in their seats until the credits ended and the lights came back on. I threw away my trash and went to the bathroom again. Then I checked my phone and saw it was 10:20am. I figured I might as well see another movie since it cost 300 yen ($3) to get to this mall, and I had all day. I bought a ticket for the 11:35am showing of the first Rurouni Kenshin movie. I didn’t know the exact title, so when I bought the ticket I asked to see “movie number one” and when they seemed unsure, “the first movie.” When I was watching the movie I wasn’t sure if it actually was the first, since they seemed to assume a lot at the beginning, but since it ended with a cliffhanger and showed the title of the next movie, I was reassured. The movie was very thrilling; it was packed full of fast-paced action scenes with skilled choreography. I understood the gist of the movie, although I didn’t understand the parts that went into history or philosophical reasoning.

Before I saw the Rurouni Kenshin movie, though, I was hungry. It was 10:50, so I had about 20-30 minutes to eat lunch. The restaurants on the floor below were all sitdown except for the Dotour coffee shop, so I rushed to the other building through the connecting hall and went down to the first floor food court. I bought a pork bun and a cinnamon roll from a bakery, and got a paper cup for water. The pork bun was crispy like a spring roll you get at Chinese restaurants in the States. The cinnamon roll was rather dry.

Then I rushed back to the movie theatre for the movie. After the movie, I took my time looking at the movie posters and flyers. Then I spent several hours wandering in circles around the two mall buildings. I went to Seiyu, as A-san had recommended to me. It was hard to figure out the physical division between Seiyu and the “specialty stores.” I looked for the red archways of Seiyu for guidance. At Seiyu I bought lint roller refills, sheets (they cost 980 yen each instead of the 3300 yen it costs at Daiei), and a towel. I looked at their futon set, but their 3-piece set, which only had the top and bottom futons and a pillow, cost the same as Daiei’s 6-piece set, which includes covers for each of those (and, I discovered when I bought it later that day, also includes free shipping). I looked at drying racks too, since I wasn’t comfortable with stretching a string across the room from the closet bar to the curtain rod and hanging all my laundry on it. I found the same racks that I saw at Daiei, for the same price. I suddenly wondered if perhaps F-sensei would happen to have a spare drying rack laying around. I tried calling him, but he didn’t understand the type of rack I was talking about, and suggested I buy one from the 100 yen store. I knew the 100 yen store carried the circular type that you hang and clip things to, but that wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted something big enough to handle a lot of clothes. But I wasn’t able to express myself properly, and the store was too loud anyway, so I gave up and let F-sensei make plans to send me pictures of his tiny hanging rack for me to consider.

I also looked for fridges. They had one fridge that was smaller than the ones at Yodobashi and Labi, but still had separate sections for freezer and fridge. I need to look at the price and the measurements though, and compare.

When I was done shopping, I felt hungry again, so I went up to the top floor and ate a caramel cheesecake crepe, and drank oolong tea to wash it down. A bunch of middle school girls (15+) and sat in all the seats, so I squatted near the stairs to eat. When I finished eating, I found my way back to the subway station and took the train to Sendai Station so I could purchase the bed set at Daiei.

When I got to Sendai Station, I looked at the map. I spotted Loft, and realized I hadn’t been there yet. So I went there and wandered through the floors. The bottom two floors were pachinko. Strangely, there was a no-smoking sign on the escalator, but I could definitely smell cigarette smoke coming from the parlors.

Loft also had bedding and curtains and various other goods, but they were more expensive than Daiei and Seiyu. The number of stores that sell variations of the same things (that are not clothes) astonishes me. Bedding is for sale in Daiei, Seiyu, Loft, and a bunch of other specialty stores housed in the same buildings as these large stores. Depending on the store, prices can get pretty high. It’s also interesting because they sell bedding for both Japanese futon-style beds (on the floor) and Western-style beds (on stands with mattresses), although they use the word “futon” for certain types of bedding for both styles. Loft was also crowded with middle school and high schoolers.

I left Loft and walked briefly to SPAL to see what they sold, but I was getting tired, so I just went around one floor and back out onto the walkways by the station. I wanted to go to Daiei now, so I followed the walkway to Labi, and I took the escalator down into the basement to Daiso, the 100 yen store. I was looking for an exit, but I couldn’t see any from the escalator, and they weren’t labeled on the floor guides on the wall. I guessed that the exit was probably on Floor 1, so I went back up to Labi and exited into the shopping streets. After taking a moment to get oriented, I managed to find my way to Daiei. I went to the 6^th floor to buy the 6-piece bed set. When I brought it to the register, I wasn’t intending to deliver it; I wanted to ask about options (carrying it, taxi, delivery). However, the cashier immediately pulled out a delivery slip and asked if it would be okay if it arrived tomorrow. It didn’t seem to cost extra, so I didn’t ask further. What I did ask was whether this set actually contained all the items it said it did, since it was the same size or smaller than the bedding packs that only contained a top futon or a bottom futon. I didn’t know the word she used, but I assume her explanation meant that the bedding had been vacuum-packed, since she said that it would expand once I removed it from the packaging.

After purchasing the bedding, I went to look at the drying racks on the same floor. When I couldn’t find the type I was looking for, I realized the one I wanted was actually on the bottom floor. But in this section there were also large mirrors, which I had been wanting. The bathroom mirror in my room was small and inaccessible if the floor was wet; plus it had water stains that wouldn’t go away with cleaning. They had mirrors for about 2000 yen ($20). I decided to go to the mirror store I had spotted on the corner of one of the shopping streets, so I could compare prices and sizes. I knew that when I move out I’ll have to dispose of everything I buy, so I should take that into consideration.

I went to the mirror store, but I only walked in for brief second before walking out again. The cheapest mirror was 1500 yen ($15), but it was tiny. All the other mirrors were more in the ranger of 10,000 to 30,000 yen ($100-$300). I didn’t need a mirror as expensive as that. I gave up and started walking home.

I decided to eat at a ramen shop called Kakashiya I often passed on the way to the city center. I paced in front of the restaurant, staring at the posters picturing different types of ramen, as I debated whether or not to go in. From the view of the door, all the customers seemed to be men, and I hoped that this wasn’t one of those restaurants that caters mainly to (old) salarymen. Finally, I told myself, “You came all the way to Japan, and since it’s a restaurant they’ll definitely serve you food!” And I went in. I was immediately reassured because neither pair of customers were salarymen. One was a couple, and the other was a pair of men in their late 20s/early 30s. I stood awkwardly, not knowing where to sit. The man behind the counter noticed me and welcomed me. I asked if it was okay to sit anywhere, and he said sure, gesturing in a vague way that encouraged the bar more than the one table. I sat down at the bar. I stared up at the signs around the restaurant featuring various menu items until I noticed the menu on the table in front of me. I browsed the menu, but I didn’t see the item I had seen on one of the posters outside. I ordered it anyway. From my seat at the bar, I could see the cook preparing the ramen in front of me. I only paid slight attention though, getting lost in thought and drinking water from the pitcher next to me.

My assari ramen was delicious, although it definitely tasted of fish (which may be normal for assari ramen). The broth was very salty, so after I finished the noodles, I leisurely (meaning 15+ minutes) alternated drinking sips of broth and gulping down water. My stomach was hard and round by the time I finished, but my thirst was quenched. I probably drank 2L of liquid, between the soup and the water. I felt sleepy when I finished. I asked the waiter some questions about the menu, including what the name of the restaurant meant. Apparently it was created by taking one kanji character from the names of the master and the owner (2 separate people), and then adding the kanji for “house.” Finally, I paid my check and started slowly walking home. My full belly and the time sitting made my back feel better, but the added weight made my legs more tired, so I felt like a drunk person walking. Sheets are heavy.

I got home at around 8:40pm. I decided to organize all the papers piled on and next to my desk, since I had picked up more during the day. When I moved my desk chair, I noticed the wheels had left dents in the floor. I had slightly noticed it before, but even though the floor looked like a hardwood floor, it was strangely soft, sort of like memory foam but harder. Perhaps it was some sort of linoleum. I hope the dents aren’t permanent, because that could be expensive to fix. I guess I’ll have to look for some sort of floor cover, but I haven’t really seen anything except rugs.

By the time it was 9:30pm, my eyes were getting heavy, but I needed to write this. (I’ve been making lots of typing errors, such as typing “you” instead of “used” or writing the same word twice or skipping words.) The radio was playing; it hadn’t thumped so much because a pop song was playing when I turned it on. I noticed that the radio station had more talking than music; they never played any songs in a row, the songs sort of sounded like they might have faded off early, and the radio personas talked a lot about their personal lives and random stuff for long amounts of time in between songs and commercials (which did occur consecutively). Like with Japanese TV, there were barely any transitions between elements, if any: a song would fade away to an awkward pause that would be replaced by the radio persona talking, who would be abruptly cut off by a commercial, which would be abruptly cut off by the person. I was irritated because I wanted to hear music! If I wanted to hear words I would listen to the news station.

Writing these entries takes about 1-2 hours.

Monday, 9/29/2014 Banks, Bills, and Daiei

Today I woke up at 6:40 am. I went back to sleep and got up at 8:15am. I got ready, opened my windows, and ate my onigiri. It was about 9am, so I attempted to use the radio again. The left speaker thudded as before, but as I left it on and experimented with the settings and stations, the thudding changed speed, getting slightly faster and weaker, and then going away all together. It was strange, because at first the right speaker seemed to be working, but after I plugged in my headphones and took them out to see if that made the thudding stop (it did), the right speaker stopped making noise. The left speaker worked though, once it worked away the thudding. I found a Japanese music station, a Japanese Western oldies station, a classical music station, and a Sendai news station. There seemed to be much fewer stations than in America. I only found about 5-6 six stations total out of the AM and FM settings.

I left my room at about 10am. I should’ve bought a bottle of water before going to the bank. It took a very long time, and my mouth was parched. I was trying to get the stamp that connects my bank account with Kobe University removed, but it turns out that I need to live in Japan for 6 consecutive months before it can be removed. I succeeded in updating my address and phone number, though. The employee also kindly explained that I should pay by rental insurance bills and rent bills at the banks where the accounts are registered.

While I was at the bank waiting, I thought about random things. I remembered the recent scandal caused by the hacking of the cloud accounts of several female celebrities and the acquisition of their nude photos. Why were they all female, I wondered. Would anyone waste their energy hacking to get nude photos of a male celebrity? Would it be a big media splash if they did? Perhaps the sexualization of the female body is so extreme in comparison to the male body that nobody gets so excited they want to steal photos of a man. But the thought of seeing past the clothes of a woman is strong enough to lead to action, and to media headlines. If the female body wasn’t so sexualized, no one would care if they saw a celebrity naked. It would be just like seeing a male celebrity naked. Maybe a little surprise, but not a big deal.

After the bank, I stopped at the 7-11 next door and bought a bottle of water and a green tea ice cream bar with red beans in it. It tried to eat it, but it was frozen solid; my teeth couldn’t penetrate. I decided to go to 77 bank (read “shichi juu shichi ginkou) to give it time to melt. The main branch was right across the street. I found the door that led to the ATMs and got in line. I went to an open ATM. There was no English option, so I did my best with the Japanese. There was a line waiting, so I felt pressured to be quick, but I gave up on that halfway through. On the screen that asked me to choose the branch of the bank where the account my rent would be paid to belonged, I had difficulty. I couldn’t read the buttons on the screen, and I couldn’t read the name of the branch on the paper I had that detailed the account information. Knowing that staring at the paper wouldn’t help me, I asked the person next in line to read the bank’s name to me. He did, and I tried to put it in. Somehow, I couldn’t get the correct name to come up, so it took me 4 or 5 tries before the right kanji finally appeared. After that things were smooth until it was time to put in the cash. There was an ATM charge, which made the change uneven, and I hadn’t prepped it beforehand. The machine kept taking my money and counting it as soon as I put it in, so I had to add it in parts, since my hands were full of my belongings and instructions and money.

After the money was in, at the end of the transaction was an option that surprised me. It offered to create a card so that next time I pay to this account, I just insert the card; I won’t need to input the bank name and account number and all that information. I wasn’t quite sure if that was actually what the Japanese said, but I thought, hell yeah! I don’t want to go through all this again. I had my tutor check it later that day, and he confirmed what it was.

I was going to go to the post office next, but first, ice cream. I leaned against a wall, as I stared at my map eating ice cream. According to my map, there was a post office right around the corner from 77 bank, but I couldn’t see it. After I finished my ice cream, I ended up walking around a block to find it. Fortunately, the university had given me a sheet of instructions, so it was easier this time. However, I guess I took too long entering and checking the 18-digit customer number, because the ATM timed out on me and I had to start all over. Other than that, I had no problem with paying this bill.

Then I walked to campus. In the Economics building, I went to the room where I think exchange and interaction are supposed to take place. My tutor was there, sitting right across from the door, so I noticed his haircut right away. I sat down across from him and organized my papers. I was tired out from the walk and the lack of real lunch, which I didn’t notice until I got hungry around 3pm. I asked my tutor how to connect to the internet, and he connected me to a pocket wireless device. I turned in my receipt for paying my rental insurance bill, and I confirmed that I needed a bank account with 100,000 yen ($1000) in it to prove I could pay my rent. The office said I could wait till I got my professor’s signature for a different form to show my proof of money as well. I borrowed a copy of the economics classes, which was book full of syllabuses. I looked at the classes my professor was teaching, and realized that these were the exact class I wanted/needed to take for my research. I returned the copy to the office.

The tutor and some of the other Japanese students in the room were all busy working on homework and presentations due that afternoon. My tutor finished his at about 4:30pm, and one of the staff members drove him to his destination in one of the other staff member’s car. Her own car had been lent to someone else, which she had forgotten until they were about to leave. One of the other students was working on a short essay assignment he needed to submit online by 5pm. He was busy going through a box of tissues and applying Blistex to his nose since he refused to take medicine for his hay fever. He turned out to be from Kobe, and the staff commented on how his accent would be familiar to me.

When my tutor left, he apparently took the pocket wifi with him, because I suddenly found the internet connection severed. I transferred my activities to the open Mac computer. After I registered for the JLPT, I gathered my stuff to leave. Several people returned to the office, but I left soon after.

The people in that room were always talking about eating and doing stuff together, but I could never overhear enough details to feel confident asking about their plans. I thought about calling the exchange students, but I wanted to hang out with Japanese people, not with English speakers. So I walked from campus to Daiei.

I was very hungry at this point, so as soon I got to Daiei, I went to floor B1 to the little food court. I got a burger with mystery meat, egg, green onion, and teriyaki sauce, and then I ate a “fresh fruits and custard” crepe. I thought about eating at the noodle place, but even though it was only 6 or 7pm, it somehow seemed closed. As I was eating, I couldn’t avoid noticing the very loud and energetic old people at the table on the opposite side of the seating area. There was one man in particular whose voice was the loudest, and then one of the women with him would pipe up with a question or comment in a less audible voice, and he would reply.

I went up to throw my trash away before I left. As I was putting my trash away, I heard them say phrases like “I wonder if she’s American” and “is she a student?” and I realized they were talking about me. I turned to them in surprise. They looked excited and engaged me in conversation, offering me a seat. I sat down and talked to them. The loud man turned out to be wheelchair-bound. He and the man sitting next to him both wore baseball caps. The outspoken woman sat next to the loud man and had a large purse which seemed to contain everything she needed. She had a pretty sparkly pink pen, and she took it out to write on the back of receipts. She wrote her name. She shook my hand several times, which caused the loud man to make fun of her. They all had it wrong about the hand shaking, since they kept giving me their left hands instead of their rights. She tried to get the quieter, pointy faced woman next to her to interact with me, but she was hesitant.

The conversation turned to how I came to Daiei. When I told them I walked, they were shocked. It’s so far! they exclaimed. And you’re a girl, and it’s nighttime, the man added. Then he offered to give me his old bike for free, since he couldn’t use it anymore. They all became excited about this, including the quieter woman. They repeated how convenient it would be to get a free bike, since bikes are expensive. I couldn’t refuse, since I would like a free bike, and I didn’t want to be rude. I was worried what kind of condition the bike would be in, though. The man was middle-aged, young compared to the others, but he didn’t look like he had ridden a bike in quite a while. We agreed to meet again next Monday so he could give me the bike. It seemed that the old people came pretty often to Daiei. The louder woman used her pink pen to write down a reminder for me to come.

Then a younger middle-aged man (who had a tired, fragile look) came out of the elevator carrying a couple of black tote bags. He seemed intimidated by my presence among his acquaintances, but soon we started talking. We had to talk over the older people’s conversation. The older people were enthusiastically explaining how much they appreciated a nice American like me who was so good at Japanese. It turned out that this new man had actually seen me a few days earlier when I ate at Daiei with the English-speaking exchange students.

Then another old woman came, but she was too intimidated to talk to me, and the space at the two tables we were sitting at was full. We exchanged a few nods, but she ended up sitting with the other man. A little while after that, I got up my courage to say goodbye. I went back to my table, gathered up my stuff, and went to the 6^th floor to do my shopping. I bought a blanket that was way cheaper than all the others for some reason (maybe because it was Aeon brand?), and a storage box that doubles as a chair, which was recommended to me by A-san.

Then I took the escalator down to the 3^rd floor, where I stopped to look at the clothes. I ended up buying a skirt, since all the walking I was doing made my legs sweat in my jeans. Then I walked home. I decided to take a route through the shopping streets. It was about 8pm. The bleached-brunette young adults were out advertising their restaurants and other nighttime businesses. Almost all of them had bleached their hair brown. Their uniform consisted of black clothes and ankle-lengths waist aprons. I had seen this before, and I had walked the main streets, so for variety, I decided to take the side streets that were littered with bright signs. Immediately everything got shadier. There were more salarymen walking. There were taxicabs cruising around. I passed bars and buildings with women in high heels and costumes standing in front of them. There were groups of employees or men in suits (who may have been employees of some sort) standing in groups of three. They gave me funny looks as I walked by with my arms full of my shopping. I had been thinking of “downtown” as a business district, but I had only been thinking of the daytime businesses. At night, Kokubunmachi was full of less-talked-about business activity. I was glad when I got out of that area.

The storage box was very heavy, so by the time I got back to my apartment, my arm muscles kept shaking when I tried to hold or pick up anything, no matter how light.

The people in one of the nearby apartments were loud today. I heard stomping and voices for the first time.