Sephora Lockout

I don't know what is going on in Sephora land at the moment.

With the 20% off sale I was excited to go and get my family and friends a bunch of Christmas gifts and perhaps a few exciting new additions to my own collection on the side. But, no. I live in Japan. A place which, it seems, Sephora is deliberately blocking out of this major sale.

I guess the politically correct way to say that would be 'ALLEGEDLY' deliberately blocking.

Granted I have only recently been able to purchase from Sephora. I went on a trip to Hawaii back in July of this year and was overwhelmed by the excitement of a store centered around us beauty product obsessed. A shop you could walk into a complete and utter mess and walk out of with a brand new face.

So many brands and a variety of prices it's hard for me to find a reason not to validify my expenses resulting in almost immediate upgrade to VIB level.

I thought when I returned to Japan a week later, laden with nail polish, lipstick and bronzer, I would never have a chance like that again. Japan is sorely lacking in the ranges I crave and, especially, the colours I need for my porcelain white skin. But then, I discovered Sephora.com the remedy to all my woes.

I saved a bit more and by the time my Hawaiian purchases had run dry I was ready to make another order. I anticipated my new makeups arrival every waking second. When it finally came I played around and changed my whole makeup routine. With the help of Kat Von D I was now an eyeliner specialist where before I would get frustrated before I even began.

As my makeup once again began to dry up I started saving again and researching into more new and exciting brands. A constant flow of filling and emptying my basket. I looked forward to the help of First Aid to clear my dry spots in the colder season and the use of Bite lipstick to give me gorgeous lips but still keep it appropriate for the work place. I even listed up a bunch of gift sets ready for the season of giving.

Then I got the 20% off email.

I could've screamed but the walls here in Japan are very thin and explaining my excitement over a beauty sale to my neighbour would've been a hassle and my vain would have been open to judgement.

I counted down the days and talked over my intended purchases with my friends. I even recommended and directed a few new-to-makeup types to the site and showed them my favourites.

But for the past few days I have been completely blocked from the site.

A supposed 404 message stopped me at every link.

I read the articles online and, while I still don't believe they are 100% the truth, I do find some of the evidence astounding.

What I'm trying to say to you, Sephora, is; I'm here for the love of makeup, not the blatantly illegal profit making business.

Twitter keeps assuring me that the tech people are on it and it will be fixed soon but the time is almost up and I have no answers.

Whether or not this will stop me from purchasing from Sephora in the future, I do not know. But it will, most certainly, stop me from refreshing my supply for now and you can bet I will not be buying Christmas gifts from Sephora this year.

You missed out on one loyal customer Sephora. I will not be going back to the norm once this sale ends.

As Walt Disney said to P.L. Travers, "That ship has sailed".

Autumn Jewellery Ideas

I have had these pieces for a while but have been hesitant to use them due to what is deemed "work appropriate" in my office. However, after seeing one particularly glamourous co-worker wearing a beautiful necklace with bright blue thread and diamantés I decided it was time to give them a go.

This is not how I would wear them to work (a little too out there perhaps) but I will definitely be incorporating them into my work wear from now on.

Necklace and Ring from H&M

Necklace and Rings from H&M

Necklace from H&M(?) and Ring from TopShop

You always need a little glam in the colder weather. 

Autumn Retail Therapy

After an awful week of work I could think of nothing better but heading down to the mall and shopping up some Autumn goodies at Plaza.

Some delicious deep reds for Autumn

I headed in fully intending to come out with a nude nailpolish for work in perhaps a grey or beige tone but ended up at the completely opposite end of the spectrum with this beautiful oxblood. Essie nail polish has only arrived in our local plaza in the last month or so and there could be no worse temptation. This Bordeaux colour was exactly what my heart really wanted despite my practical intentions.

Essie's Bordeaux

As the Autumn turns into Winter our skin suffers more and more with the wind and dry air of the season. So, I thought this would be the perfect time to try the 'Chulip' lip-balm I've seen recently on the shelves of Plaza. Each balm is named after a city and after going through every scent I settled on Paris. I can't say this actually smells or relates very closely to Paris but it is a perfectly yummy berry scent. 

Chulip's Paris Lip-balm

Finally, my attention was drawn to the Revlon Colorburst Matte Balms. In all honesty, I could have bought the lot. They are perfectly smooth and feel almost moisturising. They have great application too and the colours are great for the colder months. I chose number 15 as it would be deep but subtle enough for work. I love this colour and will no doubt be wearing it for the next few months in between my other favourite for the season, Bite's Musk lipstick.

Revlon Colorburst Matte Balms no.15

P.S. the lovely book background is Barnes and Nobles collectors edition of Grimm's fairytales

From Tuna to LGBT

My co-workers are the best thing about this job.

They are so busy and tired from constant work but somehow this results in the best laughs I've had in my time here. Today was no exception.

The first thing said to me this morning was 'Early bird gets the Sea Chicken'. Not in English of course but it was equally as non-sensical in Japanese.

I walked over to the break table to find a whole tray of different 'sea chicken' cans; or canned Tuna as we would say. They were facinated by my 'excellent' pronunciation of Tuna. This is not the first time I've been complimented about my English ability either. You'd almost think it was my native language.

My Kacho (boss) then spent the rest of the day educating the office on the pronunciation of Tuna (read: chuna) and talking about Chuna Sarada (read: Tuna Salad) because... nope I'm lost.

For the first half of the day all I was hearing was whispers from co-workers about Chuna and Chuna Sarada UNTIL someone found a book which I think is about discrimination in schools.

As I typed away at my orientation prep I suddenly heard someone in a very loud voice announce "LGBT". I immediately stopped my work out of amusement and looked to my right as two male colleagues hunched over the book like giddy school girls. "Re-zu-bi-an, gei..." they began as I smiled and asked them if I could help. One of them began indicating to the other that I was watching and jabbed his finger in my direction. They did the usual Japanese "hohhh..." to show interest and continued silently.

I'm not sure they knew what they were reading until he said it out loud.

Now all I hear in the office is:

"Chuna"

"Eru-ji-bi-chi" (LGBT)

"Chuna"

"Gei"

"Chuna"

"Chuna Sarada"

It doesn't take much to make me laugh.

::EDIT::
And I just had 'Unagi Bone Powder' explained to me for the n-th time. Oh Hamamatsu.

The Hawaiian Miracle

To continue the Legend of the Broken Foot from my last post, I am now no longer broken. It's a miracle.

So last week I spent one beautiful week on the island of Oahu in Hawaii. It was just what I needed and one of the best trips I've ever been on. Hawaii is gorgeous, shopping was perfect, and the water helped wash away all my stress.

I'm now back at work at my desk job in Japan and all the wonderful healing I experienced in Hawaii has been completely rinsed out of me along with the super typhoon now looming over the city.

But the magic that occurred in Hawaii has at least given me back the ability to walk.

On Tuesday this week, a few days after getting back from my trip, I headed to the doctor to get an x-ray on my foot. I was pretty anxious about this visit because I had completely ignored all medical advice and only used my crutches to get the wheelchair pass at the airport (great speedy service for anyone who hates waiting in line - no medical form needed but then why would anyone subject themselves to going around on crutches). As soon as I got to the hotel in Hawaii I tucked my crutches into the side of my bag in the presence of a very surprised hotel worker who then watched me walk off into the sunset never to pick up those crutches again until my return journey.

Yes, I could have further injured myself and yes, it hurt like hell at times but the ability to carry shopping bags and walk down the sandy beach was well worth it. It did however make me think that perhaps I had condemned myself to extra plaster cast time for a bunch of new dresses and pretty makeup.

I was the only person in the waiting room on Tuesday evening and was greeted by all the nurses warmly. Everyone was curious as to how my trip had been and whether it had been difficult on the cruthces ("oh, umm, yes, but it was fine"). The nurse took me in to get the x-ray right away and my leg was twisted from side to side while I struggled to keep balance on the bed in my precarious position.

The doctor said nothing as he suddenly left the x-ray room and headed to his office so I took the initiative to get off the bed and crutch my way over to the other room. He stared at the x-ray for a few minutes only using one of the 4 shots we took.

He then pulled up my old x-ray and started saying "so fast, so fast, so fast" repeatedly under his breath.

"So fast?" I ask.

"So fast" He confirms.

After a few minutes of mumbling to himself the nurse starts nodding and I am yet again left with the feeling that my doctor is telepathic. But he eventually turned to me and said "It's healed. Well almost."

He then spent 10minutes pointing at the before and after photos claiming there were two more fractures that, to my knowledge, he hadn't identified before but that now all of them were gone apart from one faint line of the major fracture right through my 5th metatarsal. The entire medical centre was flabbergast and talked fervently about the miracles of Hawaiian 'power spots'.

They started talking about 'rehabilitation' which I presumed would consist of exercises and walking with balance bars but I was lead through to a room out the back where my foot was faced with the random placement of suction cups connected to a huge machine with a dial. The nurse began to turn the dial and told me to call out when I felt 'buzzing'. My foot was electrocuted for 6 minutes while I sat there laughing my head off. It wasn't even triggering the area where my foot had been broken.

After six minutes they gave me some clear pain gel for my foot and told me to come back in 2 weeks and that would do it. I kindly thanked them and threw my crutches to the side as soon as I made it back to my apartment.

So to summarise, Hawaii is the miracle cure (how many times did I say miracle in this entry?) and electricity will stimulate your freshly healed bones and .... rehabilitate... them...?

Tune in next time for how to heal a cold in Korea.

The Legacy of the Broken Foot

This blog has become a bit of an eternal pit of despair.

So let's lighten the mood.

I broke my foot.

Well, that started well.

Last Wednesday I was working through my lunch break at the city theatre. I was in charge of opening some side doors of theatre to let local elementary students, who had come to watch a play, out to the toilets. The play itself was a bit of a mess but we'll leave that story untouched for now.

So just before the play was about to end myself and an older lady who works with me in the office headed down the oddly spaced stairs in pitch black darkness to open the doors when WHOOPS I miss a step, presumably thinking I was already at the door, and roll my ankle before landing dead on target, right on top of it.

At this point I was sitting on the floor next to a large number of ES students in complete shock thinking of how loud my landing must have sounded. I began to stand up when S#&% my ankle buckles. I scramble for the handrail on the wall beside me only to find that there isn't one.... GREAT DESIGN. So I cling to whatever wall can hold me and shuffle down the last few stairs with my co-worker strolling along beside me. I burst my way through the heavy theatre doors and out into the open.

There is still no handrail and only an open space before the first available chair to plant myself on. My co-worker mutters beside me about it being a 'little fall' and 'probably not that bad' which makes me want to slap her but I also think that it's probably not broken as I'm sure it would hurt a lot worse if it was.

I finally hop across the floor to the closest seat to find the cast of the play standing in their positions outside the front doors to wave farewell to the students... tears streaming down my face, I'm sure I would be a fantastic farewell gift. While a couple other co-workers came to join me I spent a few minutes wiping up tears and smiling and occasionally waving to the concerned faces of children exiting the theatre.

Once all the students had left a wheelchair was brought to me while my co-workers suggested a photo op. Tears continued to fall as I fake laughed at their apparent lack of empathy. Other co-workers had thankfully called the office and asked someone to drive a car down to the theatre to pick me up and take me back to work (I had a meeting at 13.00) but, to my relief, it was decided a doctor was a better destination. Luckily there is a massive hospital right next to our office building. One of my co-workers run over to tell them of my predicament and... they turned us away. Too many operations meaning that there were no doctors left.

BUT... WHAT?! Your radiographers do operations too? Your nurses are all in the operations and there's not a single person who can place ice on a foot?! Do emergencies not happen in the perfect land of Japan?!?!

But wait there's more.

Another hospital had the same reaction but my co-workers were not phased. There are a number of doctors in the area and surely one of them would be able to check my foot. But then we realised... most businesses close on Wednesday. Sure enough a few phone calls later all the nearest doctors were closed. Except one, Hachiya-san.

A little further away than ideal but still close enough to be convenient we headed over to their clinic to get some x-rays done.

My poor male colleague had to try and push me up the ramp to the clinic, me being twice his size, but thankfully this time there WAS a handrail and I pulled along with him.

Once in the clinic, no one spoke to me directly. All focus on the two Japanese people accompanying me. After all this trouble I was thinking, let's hope there is a break otherwise I will be deemed the most melodramatic person in the office. Sash and crown ceremony included.

I sat awkwardly on the x-ray table as they twisted and turned my foot and then was left there with no word on what to do next. Then from the room behind me I could hear 'oh, it's a fracture. What do you call fracture in English? Hold on I'll look it up.' I appreciate the translation but right now I'd just like to sort the foot out and go home.

5minutes later they let me off the cold, hard x-ray table and put me back in the wheelchair. They spun me into the doctor's room and the doctor began a 20minute spiel on how 'you can see it in this x-ray but not in this one', 'if we turn the foot here we can see it but if we go back to this one, you can't!' like it was some miracle illusion. I was just thinking about what this would mean for my trip to Hawaii next week. By this time my co-workers had entered the consultation room behind me unannounced or invited and were also hearing all about the mysterious disappearing fracture.

Then, after showing a little interest in the fracture, the doctor went and searched his own name for x-rays and found his foot, with a MUCH worse fracture, and began explaining how much it hurt. Surprisingly, my mind was still on the pain in my foot and Hawaii.

They then took me into another room and sat me on a bed where they prepared a removable cast that could be wrapped up in bandages to keep it together where it opened like a book otherwise. I considered the possibility of a moon boot until I tried to describe it and had the circle conversation as follows;

'You mean a plaster cast?'

'No, no. It's like a big hard boot you wear and it sets the foot in the right position.'

'Yes, yes. A plaster cast.'

'No, I mean, it's removable and you just strap it on.'

'Hmmmm.... like a plaster cast'

I began doubting myself, like maybe moon boots were a creation of my own mind to let myself believe I could still swim in a weeks time. Internet searches later confirmed my sanity.

So after chatting to my doctors they told me to check in tomorrow and the next day to check the swelling.

I was then taken all the way back to work where I continued on doing overtime and explaining what happened to every single person who saw the crutches and confirming that 'yes, it hurts'.

The next day I went in to work in the morning via the generous offer of a lift from a co-worker (they really are lovely people no matter what I say) before bailing at around 10am due to general exhaustion and pain. There is however, no way to get to work other than car, walk or bike so I'm a little marooned in my small apartment but I do live downtown so if I can pad up my armpits enough I can get to a cafe or pharmacy if need be.

In the afternoon, I went to the doctors where they undid my wrappings and then did them up again before telling me to come again tomorrow. Not exactly sure what happened there. I'm pretty sure my doctor and nurse are telepathic because they only spoke 2 words the entire 2minute consultation.

I went into a panic the rest of the day before my next appointment because I was terrified they would ignore me again and put on a plaster cast. I devised ways of removing the plaster cast myself in the back of my mind along with the appropriate excuses (pushed into a pool and whatnot).

When I arrived the next day at the clinic I went over in my mind the words for blood clot and health risk and as I entered the room where all the plaster cast supplies were prepared I spluttered out a 'what do I do?' and 'blood clot?!?' and 'I'm so sorry' while two nurses and a doctor stared at me. One nurse was visibly annoyed and I'm pretty sure had it just been her and my rather push-over doctor I would be in a cast right now but the other nurse smiled and thanked me for voicing my concerns while the doctor rushed back to his computer and took his time to go over what I had just said before agreeing with the nice nurse that I can't have a cast on. The angry nurse simply gathered all the materials in front of me and eyed me as she rushed to put them back in the cabinet. I apologised as often and as Japanese-like as I could manage.

Wrapping up my leg again and sending me on my way I left the clinic with the soothing thought that at least I could swim on the expensive trip I had been planning for months. Really all I wanted to do anyway... and maybe a pedicure.

So now I'm back at work getting things ready for my trip away although my passion for getting things done has been severely damaged as I look at the recommendation by the doctor to take a month off. Wishful thinking, Mr. Doctor, this is Japan.

Sorry for the long post but I wanted to get it all done before I forget. I hope you see the humour in the situation because, as I told a co-worker, 'If I don't laugh at all of this, I'll cry'.

Minor Success

So, this week I was faced with a huge personal wall at work. If you know me you know I have a lot of anxieties and a growing list of phobias but something that has always been near impossible for me was calling strangers on the phone. It may sound silly to some people but it’s actually a fairly common fear, perhaps not to the extent that I have taken it but people often have anxieties over using the phone.

It make sense when you think that you don’t know who you are speaking to, you can’t see their face or body language to read cues, and even if you plan for what you are going to say you have no idea what their response might be.

My fear has been around for a long time and it used to be worse. When I was around 17 or 18 I started working in my father’s medical practice as a receptionist. As you can already tell, having a phone phobia is not the best for someone whose work is with phones. Back then I was still terrified of even answering the phone. I remember my first day where I was made to answer a few phone calls and after the first few fell apart completely. I rushed into the back room to cry. But by just having to face my fear I was made to get over it. It took a wee while but eventually I became able to answer phones just fine. If I wasn’t I wouldn’t have been able to continue in that line of work for 6 years.

In this day and age, it is a lot easier to avoid calling people. Email, text, online forms, Google; we have everything we need to be anti-social and live in our box of comfort. I have always used those forms of contact to my advantage, avoiding all forms of phone calls aside from automated phone systems. There have been a few unavoidable circumstances; dealing with taxes, student loans, calling someone back after they left a message. But overall, I’ve been fairly successful.

Until this week, where I was faced with something more difficult than just a phone　call to a stranger. A phone call to a stranger from my work place in my second language. Needless to say I spent my week in a perpetual circle of panic attacks. The worst lasting at least 4 hours of my work day. Heart palpitations, sweating, difficulty breathing, nausea, stomach pain, headaches, repetitive thought patterns, crying and rage spells. It’s been one hell of a week. And all over a bunch of phone calls. I’m fully aware of the ridiculousness of this all but that doesn’t make it any easier.

Perhaps I should expand on why this is so hard for me aside from the phone fear. I’m also terrified of offending people (the formalities of Japanese are not easy to grasp), I’m worried about misrepresenting my workplace (a government office), I’m scared of not being able to express myself enough that it will make sense to the person on the other end, and I feel completely unprepared and unqualified for the job that I’ve been asked to do after the phone calls are made (visiting schools to evaluate their assistant language teacher’s teaching). These are the thoughts that run through my head creating a whole mix of doubt and anger and fear.

But yesterday, I bit the bullet. I made 4 phone calls resulting in 2 confirmations and all within an hour. They weren’t easy or smooth but they did work. The battle isn’t over, I still have 10 places to confirm with and then comes the actual visiting of the places I’ve called but yesterday I had a taste of minor success. I proved to myself that even my poor business Japanese can be understood over the phone, I didn’t die when I made the call, no body called work to say a rude foreigner called them and made no sense what so ever, and I even managed to arrange a few of the visits I needed to.

The job isn’t any more pleasant for me and I get butterflies in my stomach just thinking about making more calls or visiting more places by myself but I’m just happy that I showed my own mind that I’m not completely useless and if I make enough effort I can push past my anxiety and be a functional human being.

Losing the Love of My Life

I’m at a point in my time here in Japan that I’m fed up of the culture differences, language barrier and general misunderstandings that I see everything in Japan as attributing or part of this negativity.

This is simply not true. I try to tell myself, day in and day out, that I used to LOVE Japan and in fact I once spent a year in Tokyo loving life in Japan and having very little difficulty with the language and culture. But my mind won’t listen and I’m strugglingto find the reason why I even liked Japan in the first place.

Yesterday was a public holiday and I spent my day off as usual, at home, playing games, eating and generally perusing the interwebs. I decided to watch some of the old variety shows that I once was addicted to and found that I wasn’t sure whether I liked them anymore and noticed things in them that hadn’t occurred to me before. The way someone subtly voiced their opinion or how formal one person was to another, their body language in regards to their sempai. I didn’t mean to pick up on these things but my newly acquired knowledge of the office politics in Japan and how Japanese people work together pointed out these small interactions amongst the pure entertainment those shows used to be to me.

I notice at work my Japanese seems to be devolving rather than improving and my confidence has completely dropped out of the game. My pride in my language abilities and all the compliments I used to receive about my ability have disappeared into my past and I’m now a blubbering foreigner who can’t remember the word for ‘apple’.

The major problem with all of this is that, even though I am obviously able to look at this objectively and see how ridiculous it’s all become, I haven’t been able to snap out of it. It reminds me of something the keynote speaker at the JET Programme Tokyo Orientation said about culture shock; “Some of us never come into the phase of acceptance”. The ‘phase of acceptance’ being the final stage of culture shock where you come to terms with the differences and accept them.

As I remind myself that there are many things I enjoy about Japan I can’t help but create a mental pro and con list of reasons to stay in Japan. My con list is starting to get very heavy and I feel my desperation to leave this country and go somewhere new getting stronger and stronger.

I don’t know if that feeling is simply coming from my dislike for my current job but I have a feeling there are certain things about this office that areinherent in any office and will follow me wherever I go. I never thought I’d be the kind of person who is unable to let go of the ‘western way’ and adapt. I’ve always been very accepting of other cultures and it fuels my love of travelling but perhaps it’s not entirely my fault. Maybe, it’s Japan’s inability to adapt themselves.

I started watching a movie last night called Ikiru (to live) made by Director Kurosawa in 1952. The first 5 minutes show exactly why the Japanese office confuses and frustrates me (namely bureaucracy) but then I realised this movie was made over 60 years ago! I knew Japan hadn’t changed for a while but 60 years is a long time to go without improving your system for the better. The only thing that wasdifferent was that my desk has a computer (without internet access) and that I use a fax machine (though snail mail is also frequently used).

I don’t know if one morning in the next year or so I will wake up and just snap out of this but I sure hope so. I hate to see my passion and dedication to Japan evaporate into nothing after 10 years of study. In the mean time I’m just focussing on things that do make me happy and trying to tie Japan into that.

But maybe it’s time to conclude that, for me at least, Japan is just meant to be a place to admire from afar.

Being a CIR on the JET Programme

When I signed up for my position as a Coordinator of International Relations on the JET Programme the last thing I expected was to be fixing someone’s toilet seat or inspecting a Shingles rash. But my position has brought me many of these little surprises in the past 9 months.

I had not expected to get into the JET programme at all. I had messed up my application about 3 or 4 times and had completely bombed the interview. I was off on a two month trip around Europe when I heard that I was accepted onto the shortlist and needed to complete a health check. With only one or two days in each city it was not an easy thing to arrange. But here I am, in a job I never signed up for, filling out people’s holiday requests while I watch my year spin on.

The Coordinator of International Relations position on the JET programme never claimed to be straight forward and it’s true that some of the items listed on their official website relate to my own job; translation and interpreting. However, when someone asks me what my position is I don’t even refer to the coordinating of culture but rather the mother of 12 (soon to be 24) ALTs (Assistant Language Teachers).

There is another position on the JET program called a PA (Prefectural Advisor) or in my case a CA (City Advisor). I first found out about this position through an email 2 weeks before my arrival in Japan in July 2013 when a current CIR in my city asked if I knew I would be a CA. I didn't.

I spent my last few weeks before moving my whole life over to a city I’d never been to googling what on earth a CA really was. The conclusion of my research; a counsellor. My research wasn’t entirely correct.

A CA is more of an administrative FAQ book which JET programme participants are encouraged to contact 24/7. My first few months on the job were stressed with everyone in my city (bar one) being a new JET participant including myself yet all the questions regarding the area (which I had never visited), being a teacher (which I had only a fleeting 1 hour of experience with), and how to use [insert household appliance here] being aimed at me.

I was asked to interpret with no prior notice and no knowledge of the subject on a regular basis. This, you have probably guessed, was a disaster due to the fact that I hadn’t actively used my Japanese for at least 18 months. I umm-ed and ahh-ed my way through the days of seminars and bureaucratic paper work until my head felt like it was about to burst.

Messages sent in the early hours of the morning or through my desperately leisurely weekends taunted me and hours of overtime accumulated without compensation. I tried to keep on top by keeping extensive memos in small notebooks that were always on my person but I am now on my 6th notebook and yet to comprehend anything I’ve written so far.

I was told, by the internet, that most of my jobs in the beginning would be easy, Japanese to English translations but I’ve had more English to Japanese translations than Japanese essays I’ve written in my past 10 years of Japanese study in just the first few months of work here. Sometimes I do native check for the translation group upstairs but most of the time I am filling out transportation reimbursement forms, holiday requests and going over lesson plans from the around 100 Elementary Schools and close to 50 Junior High Schools.

And all the rush and panic I felt 9months ago will be starting over again when 13 new ALTs arrive in the summer.

You’d think that after all this craziness I would’ve done the sensible thing and found an alternate employment but maybe the craziness drove me crazy because I’ve signed on for another year.

The office I work in is filled with people who feel the same as me, if not worse. Teachers who are supposed to be in classrooms but are instead charged with answering phone calls and filling out paperwork. Yet, despite their predicament, they are always working their hardest to smile and support each other.

Although I may not agree with all the office politics and processes that go on in a Japanese work place I do admire their ability to deal with unpleasant situations. Even if it’s just stapling a few programs together for a co-workers upcoming event or taking a unsatisfied parent’s phone call even though the person in charge of the case is away on sick leave and they have no idea what it’s about.

They sit through being yelled at, being despised by families, being criticised by the media, and even being accused of stealing money from the taxpayer. Despite all this negativity flowing around they still put on a smile every day, welcome each other back energetically after like it’s their own home, and crack jokes about sexual harassment (in a very non-offensive way).

It’s thanks to these people that even when I’m feeling stressed and tired I’m able to keep smiling even through the napping hours in the afternoon.

Unfortunately, their influence may not keep me here for much longer then what I’ve already signed up for but it has taught me priceless lessons about the power of positivity and also the benefits of calling for help on even the smallest of things.

Being a CIR has not given me what I hoped for but there is always a lesson to be learnt from whatever situation you find yourself in.

My Amazing Japanese

Hello there,

The common hurdle a lot of foreigners in Japan are faced with is ‘compliments’.

Now I know this sounds lovely and Japanese people being renowned as polite and kind would make this point obvious but anyone who has been to Japan to live or study for an extended period of time will understand the drop in my stomach anytime someone praises my use of chopsticks or ability to greet.

“Wow! You can use chopsticks?” Someone asks me, 8 months into my second period of living in Japan.

This is not the first, nor the second, third or fourth, time I have received this admiration from a Japanese co-worker. Each time I reply gently with a “Yes, actually we use chopsticks in New Zealand too.” This never fails to shock and mystify my sweet Japanese colleagues and they relish in their new found knowledge… until a few weeks later when they see me eating rice and are once again astonished at my nifty fingers.

Not your average fork and knife using hands

I am aware that not all foreigners are as lucky as me to have grown up in a country which is one of the most multicultural on the planet. As a New Zealander I was introduced to Asian culture early on and learnt to enjoy my sushi and chicken chow mein through the practical use of chopsticks. Maybe, someone from a less multicultural country or a New Zealander who might have preferred the use of a knife and fork, being complimented on their use of chopsticks every few weeks would be a welcome recognition of their growth. But as a practiced chopsticks semi-expert, it is a constant reminder of patience and the joker’s smile.

A common conversation in the office is as follows:

*writing up new schedule for meeting*

Co-worker: “Wow”

Me: “Wow?”

Co-worker: “You know Kanji (Chinese characters)?”

Me: “Yes, the computer comes up with them automatically anyway.”

Co-worker: “Wow”

Me: “I have had to learn a few over the 10 years I’ve been studying Japanese”

Co-worker: “Wow”

The co-worker remains in this stunned condition for about 5 seconds before reporting their findings to the rest of my co-workers for them all to join in the chorus of “Wow”.

While I appreciate the kind reminder that my Japanese degree has paid off, when this ritual admiration repeats, on average, every two weeks it does get a bit tiring. There are worse conversations of course; the ‘konnichiwa’ expert. Any foreigner trying to have a go at communication in Japan will face this at some point.

Me: “Konnichiwa” (hello)

Other person: “Wow. Your Japanese is amazing!”

Me: “I said nothing.”

And repeat.

Encouraging for the everyday tourist but excruciating for the live in foreigner just trying to buy some shampoo at their regular supermarket.

I know this all sounds a bit ridiculously picky to anyone who has never lived in Japan before but I wrote this for all my fellow non-Japanese workers and students in the country who will no doubt understand the wonderfully blurry line between compliments and patronising.

Whether or not the repeating of the same compliments is a part of Japanese culture or just my co-workers poor memory I don’t know.

Just thought you might want to know.