Today was one of the days when I didn’t feel like getting
out of bed. I woke up at 7am, when my room was light, but I keep going back to
sleep until my room was bright with sun at 9 or 10am. I got ready, snacked on
the cheesecake squares I had bought in Tokyo as a present to give to somebody
(who turned out to be me), and took down all the curtains. I stuffed them in
the wonderfully huge and convenient BookOff tote bag, along with my dirty
clothes, and went to the coin laundry a little past 11am. When I walked in,
there was an African man and his young son finishing up their laundry. He
greeted me and we talked a little. He asked me what I like about Japan. I said,
“I like how Japanese people will help you, even when you’re a complete
stranger.” He agreed, saying that it was much nicer here compared to the
free-for-all competitiveness in America. He was here in Japan for his postdoc
work.
I was putting the curtains in the washing machine as we
spoke, and our conversation was cut off by an abrupt bout of sneezing caused by
a set of curtains. I sneezed at least 7 times, with tears coming out of my eyes
and snot threatening to flow out of my nose. The African man (I think he told
me his name, but I’ve forgotten) finished up with his laundry and regretfully
apologizing for not bringing his business cards with him, drove away in his
car. My wash started, I hurried back to my apartment to blow my nose and clean
up. Since it was Saturday, I had to endure countless curious gazes from
Japanese people old and young. At my apartment, I cleaned the floor, using felt
cleaning clothes I had bought at the 100 yen store.
I went back to sit with my laundry after I put it in the
dryer, and most of the people passing by peered in the open doors and spotted
me. Their eyes would widen, and their gaze would linger for a moment until they
passed out of sight.
I had brought the International Student Handbook with me to
read. I looked at the campus maps and read a little, but I was painfully bored.
I wondered if the American exchange students would call me to go with them to
the Oktoberfest celebration like they promised they would. I was hungry too,
since I hadn’t eaten real food. I went to look at the menu of the tonkatsu
(pork cutlet) restaurant next door, which looked interesting. They had pancakes
and a strange assortment of foods that barely included tonkatsu. The restaurant
looked very small inside, and since I had put in my clothes for 20 minutes in
the dryer, I didn’t have time. I decided to eat after my laundry was done.
Finally, the curtains were dry (but not the clothes). I
brought everything back to my room. I opened the windows wide because the
weather was really nice, with a strong breeze, clear sky, and warm sun. I had
to catch my papers before they blew all over the room, though. I stretched a
drying line across the room from the bar in the closet to the curtain rod.
Technically, I probably should have strung it outside, but I didn’t want to
face any more spiders. I was pretty sure I had run into a spider web when I opened
my front door earlier, so I didn’t want to test my endurance further. I hung up
my wet clothes. Then I slid the curtain hooks back on the curtains, pushed my
chair again the wall, using my suitcase to steady it, and balancing
precariously, rehung the curtains.
Feeling a sense of accomplishment, I rewarded myself by
going to the take-out restaurant next door. I entered and tried to process all
the menu posters spread on the wall. The employees asked if I was ready to
order, but I said not yet. I realized there was a complete menu pasted to the
counter, so I stepped forward to look at it. Meanwhile, an old man entered
behind me. I ordered my food, and then he ordered his. I took out my wallet to
pay, but the employees ignored me, and the man sat down in a chair to wait. I
took my cue from them and went to the seat on the opposite side of the tiny
room. The restaurant was basically a counter with a small space in front of it
for the customers, and the kitchen behind it, with two female cooks and one man
at the register.
The old man’s food was ready in about 5 minutes. I had to
wait longer for mine. When they gave me my food, I smiled at them and walked
back to my apartment, eager to eat.
After eating, I was gripped by intense boredom and
agoraphobia. I was waiting for the American exchange students to call and make
my day interesting, but the call never came. I cleaned my bathroom, which I
normally hate. I sat in a daze for several minutes. I wanted to go outside and
explore, but there would be too many curious eyes outside on a Saturday. I
mustered up the energy to go shopping, but when I came back, I had nothing to
do once my new stuff was organized. I started making a vocabulary list from the
handout the clerk at the CO-OP had given me. She had suggested I join the
CO-OP, since I could collect points and get a discount. I looked through the
papers, but I was mystified about how to join. There was a possible number I
could call, but I would rather try to do this in person.
It was about 6pm. The Americans weren’t going to call me. I
ignored the loud meowing and squawking of the 6-7 cats outside. They had come
out with the setting sun and were being fed by a young Japanese woman. They
almost sounded like baby birds.
So I went shopping again, this time for food items. I didn’t
have a fridge, so I would only buy enough raw materials for tonight, and make
food that would last until morning. F-sensei had been worried about whether or
not the rice cooker he had given me worked, since it hadn’t been used for a year.
I bought a tiny pack of meat, a floret of broccoli, soy
sauce, oil, a frying pan and lid, sugar, and bananas. Back at the apartment, I
made beef and broccoli stir fry flavored with soy sauce. It turned out a bit
oily. I was too eager to wait for the rice, so I ate half of the dish before
the rice was done. I had a banana while I waited for the rice. I washed the
dishes. Finally, the rice was done. I devoured the rest of the food, and then I
made yaki-onigiri, which are rice balls dipped in soy sauce and sugar (or
something similar; without internet I had to rely on my memory) and cooked in a
pan or on a grill. They turned out pretty good. I ate one and saved the rest
for tomorrow. The plastic wrap from the 100 yen store that I used to wrap the
onigiri seemed more sticky than American plastic wrap, which I liked. The
onigiri wrapped up nicely.
During my walks to and/or past the CO-OP, I occasionally see
guys with leeks sticking out of their backpacks. It reminds me of the Caramell
Dansen meme with the red-head girl from Bleach. The leeks just seem silly.
There’s never any other vegetable sticking out the top of someone’s backpack.
A day without internet is awful. I kept wanting to listen to
music on youtube or check my email, but I couldn’t without walking really far.
I don’t have a smartphone in Japan or America, so I’m used to having internet
access only at home, but not having access is frustrating. I was reading a
Sendai newsletter I picked up from the mailbox area, but I couldn’t check any
of the websites for events mentioned. I had to take note of them to check
later.
Speaking of mail, I get all sorts of random things. The
newsletter was in the mailbox area, but the things in my actual mailbox so far
include a thin, innocuous magazine advertising phone sex work (play the role of
Office Lady, student, etc! Try it and increase your earnings with experience!),
an advertisement for apartment buildings (it appeared to be selling the
building, not the individual apartments; or they were very expensive apartments),
and a quarter piece of notebook paper that advertised a Japanese sweets shop
and listed its items and their prices.
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