On Sunday, Judy and I went up to Omiya in Saitama to spend the afternoon with some friends. From November 2002 through January 2003, I lived there in a tiny one-room apartment about 10 minutes from the station (Judy joined me in September after she switched jobs).

Unfortunately, the majority of my time in Omiya was marked by a number of troubles, especially involving my apartment, such as: the fact that it had paper walls and zero insulation, meaning during the winter it was colder inside than outside; the robbery in June 2003, resulting in the loss of not only all of my valuables, but two years’ worth of digital photos as well; the Humidity Incident of August 2003, during which everything in my apartment became covered with mold; the two ladies of the night who moved in next door and woke us up every day at 4:00 in the morning when they returned from their “exploits”; and countless others.

Yet, despite all of this, when we were back there this past weekend, I actually found myself feeling somewhat nostalgic for the time I lived there. Strange, in a way. All in all, I suppose Omiya is a decent place to live for a person who works an hour and a half outside of Tokyo, but as far as I’m concerned, nothing compares to living in the big smoke (sure, neither place has much in the way of charm, but what whuddaya gonna do?).

- - - - - -

Here are a few older photos taken at the Hikawa Shrine, which is about a 20 minutes’ walk from Omiya Station:

The food replica business is thriving in Japan — a visit to nearly any restaurant in any region will confirm this. In the front window you will likely find highly detailed replicas of a sampling of the shop’s dishes intricately made out of plastic or wax . Of course, food replicas aren’t limited only to storefront displays; one can find a wide range of objects, from keychains to rubber erasers, faithfully crafted to resemble popular food items.

Well, it appears that it was inevitable that this trend would be taken one step further to see the melding of the replication of culinary delights with state-of-the-art technology. Solid Alliance, a Yokohama-based company, has done the incredible and created a line of USB memory drives hand-made in the form of popular types of sushi. Never before has a portable disk drive looked so darn tasty.

Solid Alliance also makes rubber ducky USB drive as well.

Sure, it’s nearly February, but for anyone still without a 2005 calendar, fret no more. The folks at the Engrish-laden guide to oddball tourist attractions in Japan, How to walk of Japan, have given the world a glorious gift in the form of the 2005 “Love Position of Animal” calendar!

That’s right, 12 months of CorelDraw-produced images of various animals engaging in the magnificent act of procreation! While I’m not an expert on the intricacies of animal mating practices, I can say with near certainty that most of the depictions of animals coupling in the calendar appear to be physiologically accurate! (Except for the kangaroos, who, as this infamous photo has taught us, don’t hump face-to-face.)

The calendar is available for free download, so there’s no excuse not to have this stunning work of art hanging in your bedroom or office cubicle. Proudly display your love of nature and fondness for gettin’ freaky together with this one-of-a-kind calendar. You’ll be the envy of all your peers!

I went to see the doctor yesterday. During the countless hours that I spent in the waiting room with absolutely fuck-all to do, I got to thinking about the differences between the procedure for visiting a doctor in America and the procedure for visiting a doctor in Japan.

Now, I’ve been to see doctors here in Japan a number of times, but I can hardly be considered an expert. However, to anyone curious about what a typical visit to a Japanese hospital is like, the following should hopefully give you a basic idea [and to all those people who couldn’t care less, feel free to go back to looking at porn now].

For the sake of comparison, here is the typical procedure when seeing a doctor in the States:

1. First, you make an appointment for a specific date and time (i.e., Thursday, January 26th at 1:45pm)
2. On the day of the appointment, you go to the hospital about 10-15 minutes prior to the appointment time in order to register
3. You go directly to the department in which you have the appointment, register and pay the co-payment, usually $10 to $20, depending on the type of insurance you have (assuming you have insurance, that is)
4. Then you sit down in the waiting room and flip through old magazines
5. About 10-15 minutes later, a nurse will call your name and lead to you a small private examination room
6. You will then sit and wait for another five minutes or so
7. Shortly thereafter, the doctor will arrive and will carry out his/her examination in complete privacy
8. If you require medication, the doctor will illegibly write out a prescription for you on a little pad
9. You then part ways and go to the pharmacy, either inside the hospital or elsewhere (if necessary), where a pharmacist will give you your medicine and offer you a private consultation if you have any questions about your medication
10. OK, you’re done!

Now, here is the procedure at a typical Japanese hospital:

1. First you make an appointment for a specific day, however whether or not you can schedule a particular time depends on the hospital — many only have “Reception Hours” (i.e., generally between 11:30am and 3:30pm), the only time during which you’ll be able to see a doctor
2. On the day of the appointment, you go to the hospital and register at the front desk, after which you’ll receive a print-out with your data on it (again, the procedure varies by hospital — some use automated machines, others make you stand in line to deal with an attendant)
3. Then you go to the department in which you have the appointment and give your print-out to the attendant there
4. You take a seat in a (magazine-less) waiting room and wait for anywhere between 1 to 3 hours
5. During that time, you will likely fall asleep and dream about sexy Japanese nurses giving you a sponge bath
6. Just when you reach the point when you’re ready to start randomly taking out other patients in order to shorten the line a bit, you will hear your name being called over the announcement system, requesting you to go sit in the hallway outside of the examination rooms
7. There you will wait for another 20-40 minutes
8. Finally, the doctor will call your name and you will enter the examination room (which isn’t even a “room” per se, but rather a three-walled space, behind which is an open area that connects all of the other adjoining exam rooms)
9. The doctor will carry out his examination while nurses bustle past you in and out of the room
10. If you require medication, the doctor will print out a prescription for you on the computer on his desk
11. Afterwards, you will head back to the main entrance to the payment counter to pay the bill for the day’s visit in total — in cash
12. You can then go to one of the many pharmacies surrounding the hospital (if necessary), where a pharmacist will give you your medicine and loudly ask intrusive questions about your condition in earshot of all of the other people waiting
13. At last, you can finally go home, feeling far worse than you did when you first arrived at the hospital

Yep, there really wasn’t a point to that, except to say that time does not pass any slower than when you are sitting in a hospital waiting room surrounded by elderly Japanese folks who have nothing better to do than stare at the foreigner in their midst.

Oh, and let it be noted that the world can never have too many sexy Japanese nurses!

Anyone vaguely aware of the existence of a world outside of their own shitty little backwater town is likely to know that Japanese people are inordinately obsessed with the concept of cuteness. Hello Kitty is probably the most widely-known iconic example of this affixiation, however, from ridiculous outfits for dogs to colorful comics graphically depicting the symptoms of colon cancer to hentai rape videos, absolutely nothing in Japan is safe from “cuteification.”

Just as one would expect, this obsession extends to children as well, and these tiny versions of people are one of the hottest commodities in the cuteness market. However, this can lead to unusual and even dangerous general attitudes towards children. For some, children are just another fashionable accessory; an object of the most extreme level of cuteness, which can be decorated and posed to the parents’ (read: owners’) liking. The realities of raising a child are often not considered when the decision to have a child is made (assuming there is any kind of decision-making process in the first place), occasionally resulting in tragic consequences.

I can’t tell you the number of times that I have seen kids wandering around crowded public places wailing for their parents who are nowhere to be found; kids being left in locked cars in parking lots while their parents play pachinko; and kids jumping around in the front seats of moving vehicles while their mothers pay more attention to the conversations they are having on their cell phones than the road ahead.

Of course, things like this happen in every other country as well, but for some reason offenses seem especially flagrant in Japan. Take for example the following seemingly innocent photo, which I stumbled upon on the site of the owner of a liquor store in Ibaraki:

Sure, it’s kind of a funny picture, but who in their right mind would place their infant child on the back of a live swan?! One of the most traumatic experiences of my childhood was the time that I was chased and pecked at by one of those things at my neighborhood park when I was about three years old. I would never put a child of my own anywhere near one of those filthy beasts.

But somehow I doubt the notion of any such risks passed through the minds of the parents when they plopped their first-born baby on the back of a live and potentially dangerous creature floating in a filthy pond. Nope, to them it was probably just too kawaii a pose to pass up.

Pure class.

That’s what I strive for with every personal and professional endeavor I undertake in my life, as well as what this site is all about. That is why I feel it is my pleasure — nay, duty — to share with you a site that I stumbled upon by means of a completely innocent Google search:

Märchen Kingdom

Now, seeing as it is not my intention to offend anyone, I think I’ll refrain from posting any samples of the work created by the highly talented and clearly mentally disturbed artist who runs that site. However, if drawings of young girls defecated profusely or sporting raging erections are your kind of thing, I would definitely recommend a visit.

Class of the highest calibre, indeed.

- - - - - - -

WTF? Redux

Many people are aware of Japan’s love for excessive packaging.

Behold a particularly ridiculous example that Judy picked up at the supermarket the other day:

On Saturday, Judy and I met up with a couple of my officemates to go bowling. It was the first time that I had been bowling in several years, and the first time that Judy had hung out with any of my coworkers ever. Despite the hour-and-a-half wait for an open lane, the rest of the afternoon was a lot of fun and we enjoyed three games of bowling and one slightly poorly-received joke about “superior ball handling skills” (it seems the expression doesn’t translate very well into Japanese).

Afterwards, we went to dinner and, in the Japanese tradition, imbibed a number of alcoholic beverages. As this was the first time for these particular coworkers and I to spend time together outside a work setting, we were able to get to know each other on a more personal level. At one point, the conversation turned to the topic of work (surprise surprise) and I was amused to hear some my officemates’ opinions about our company and some of the other people we work with. It was definitely a relief to learn that I am not alone in some of my gripes about working there. Apparently Japanese offices are miserable places for Japanese people to work, too.

- - - - - - -

Here are two photos from the bowling alley, one of my coworkers and the other of the funky Japanese bowling shoes we were wearing:

Some people seriously have way too much free time on their hands.

I haven’t even been back at work for a full week yet, but I’m already starting to slide back into my old routine of working 13-hour days. I cannot let that happen.

The reason for my overtime tonight relates to a little something known as “the challenges of cross-cultural communication,” also commonly referred to as “dealing with gobbledygook-talkin’ weirdos who smell funny.”

You see, two years ago one of the managers in my company — my former boss, in fact — was dispatched to our joint venture company in the States to help improve operations. Yesterday we received a letter from the American president of said venture containing an extensive list of employee complaints against the manager from my company; apparently he has been undertaking his role as Executive Vice President a bit, shall we say, “unconventionally.”

I’m not at liberty to get into specifics, but as I read through the incident reports in preparation for helping to draw up a response from our side, I couldn’t help but chuckle at how poorly the Japanese management style doesn’t work in America. Sure, you have sucessful management practices that took the business world by storm in the 80s, such as just-in-time production, kaizen (continuous improvement) and the 5S, but beneath the stoic exterior of the typical Japanese businessman lies an uncharacteristicly immature and erratic underbelly.

Therefore, whereas the American side of our joint venture decried actions such as shouting at and shoving employees, throwing objects and wildly striking machinery with a hammer as “unacceptable conduct,” I see them as what they are: aspects of Japanese management that are little-known outside of Japan (well, except for the hitting-things-with-a-hammer part).

By now, most of the world is familiar with the rigid hierarchy in Japanese society. The adherence to theis hierarchy is even more severe within a Japanese company: underlings kowtow to their superiors’ merciless demands and superiors berate and scold their underlings like misbehaving children (mid-level managers can go from superior to underling and back within an instant without even so much as a bat of an eye).

While I personally have never been on the receiving end of such treatment (I reckon I would react in a most un-Japanese of ways), I have beared witness to maniacal displays of managerial tyranny time and time again throughout my company. There’s nothing worse than sitting quietly while your coworker is subject to a five-minute public tirade. . . um, except maybe being on the receiving end on one yourself, I suppose.

Anyway, my company finally created a generic response to the letter, which of course had to be translated by yours truly (once again, despite the fact that my company has an official translator and it’s not me). None of the people on the Japanese side seem to have any problem with the manager’s behavior, but rather are trying to focus on why he chose to act in such a manner, i.e., what the American employees did wrong to evoke the manager’s reaction.

Ironically, during the course of the entire year that I worked under that manager, not once did I ever see him put on a display such as those mentioned in the list of complaints. Maybe he’s just dealing with culture shock as a result of being forced to live in the midwest.

It’s funny how you can be away from work for a few weeks on holiday, but as soon as you get back it feels like you never left in the first place.

Despite the piles of work that greet me each day, I’ve been making a concerted effort to spend less time at the office. So far I’ve only been marginally successful, but I’m going to keep up the fight. I can’t go back to spending all of my waking hours at work.

Must not. . . become. . . Japanese!

Anyhow, I’m kind of short on time at the moment, so I’m just going to throw up a few photos from my trip back to California. Even though I carried my camera with me nearly everywhere I went, I regrettably took precious few photos.

Here are a few that I actually managed to snap of some friends:

Meet the latest and greatest example of superior Japanese ingenuity — the Men’s Som!

No longer is it necessary to expend excessive amounts of energy in order to bring yourself to climax by manual stimulation — simply insert your member into the patented Kung-Fu Grip sheath and sit back to enjoy the smooth adjustable-speed wanking motion of the Men’s Som!

Now you can revel in the rapturous delight of self-pleasure without having to break a sweat or divert your eyes from your pornographic material of choice. Moreover, the Men’s Som completely eliminates the risk of damage to your favorite adult magazines because it leaves your hands free and clean to turn the pages at will. Never again will you suffer from annoying slimy fingers or painful “pincher’s wrist!”

Order your Men’s Som today and discover the incredible sensation of sexual contact with another human being! (Well, almost.)

Operators are standing by!

Only ¥35,800 plus shipping & handling.
Warning: As with any electrical device, there is a risk of electrical shock when using the Men’s Som.
Robo-Wank, Inc. is not liable for injury or disfigurement resulting from the misuse of this product.

Well, I’m back.

After a hectic couple of days running last-minute errands and saying goodbyes to family and friends, it was time for me to catch my plane back to Japan. Despite the delays, it seemed that the 11-hour flight was going to be relatively smooth as usual. That is, until the plane took off and I got acquainted with the man seated beside me.

His name was Phil and he was a tugboat sailor in the US Navy on his way to Thailand to assist with the tsunami relief effort. He seemed like a nice guy at first, but after downing seven or eight consecutive complementary cocktails he became increasingly belligerent and decided that he wanted to talk to me — very loudly — for the entire duration of the flight. Cue a succession of one-way conversations about highly inappropriate and offensive subject matter, such as the fact that the woman two rows ahead of us wasn’t wearing a bra and “forgot to turn off her headlights,” the joys of “bumpin’ uglies” with curvaceous South American women and utterly insipid (yet extremely detailed) tales of drunken sailor revelry. The glares from the other passengers around the cabin had no effect on him, nor did my feigning sleep every time he got up to go to “take a piss” (as he loudly proclaimed each time). Thanks for reinforcing all of my stereotypes about people in the military, Phil!

Judy and I met up in the Narita airport (as she had arrived back from Vancouver about an hour before I got in) and we made the journey back to our apartment. We had a great time catching up, sharing stories from our respective holidays and making plans for what we want to do in 2005. However, by dusk the following evening we were both coming down with a cold. Damn that recycled cabin air!

So now it’s back to the daily grind. Every day since I got back to Japan has been a cacophony of new year’s greetings, as it is the custom in these parts to exchange an “akemashite omedetou gozaimasu” with everyone you know when seeing them for the first time in the new year. It’s fun with the first five people or so (well, not really), but eventually a mumbled “ak’shtebuhb’busssss” is all one can muster.

As always, my time in California went by way too quickly; I wasn’t able to see everyone I wanted to see, to do everything I wanted to do nor eat everything I wanted to eat. But, nonetheless, I had a wonderful time. I’m not one for sappy reminiscences, so instead here’s a boring photo of my hometown of Cupertino (well, part of it) and the surrounding Santa Clara Valley:

I’m not sure yet when I’ll have a chance to go back, but hopefully this post-vacation glow will stay with me for another few days before it’s sucked out of me by the oppressive drudgery of my day-to-day life.

Happy New Year, everyone!

It’s hard to believe that 2005 has arrived and so has my time to return to Japan. I’ve had a great time back here in California — spending time with family, hanging out with friends, eating lots of food, sleeping way too much, speaking English — but now it’s time to go back to my life in Tokyo (and yes, I am excited about it).

All night I’ve been saying goodbye to friends, but now I’ve got to try to find a way to fit everything into my bags and hopefully even get a couple of hours of sleep before it’s time to leave for the airport in the morning.

I hope you all had a fun New Year’s Eve!