お母さんと私 Okaasan and I

Today I met my Okaasan. She’s a sprightly 68 year-old woman and lives in an adorable house with her husband, who is currently in Bangkok (and who might visit in late November, but his schedule is uncertain). She has one grandchild who lives with her son and daughter-in-law in Tokyo…and it’s about to be two! I’m actually moving back into one of the Seminar Houses for about a week so she can go to Tokyo for the birth. I’m so excited for her! I should probably send a gift to the happy couple. Maybe a t-shirt for his kid and some maple syrup for the family?

Luckily, Okaasan had a car, so I didn’t have to haul all three of my suitcases on the bus (or worse, call a cab). Okaasan’s English is very good, for which I am grateful, because my Japanese is not as good. I wish I had studied more over the summer. Okaasan was worried that all of my suitcases wouldn’t fit, but I grew up under the guidance of the Masters of Packing—Mom and Dad—so everything fit perfectly in the back of her tiny, little car. Thanks Mom! Thanks Dad!

Today I learned that driving on the “wrong” side of the road is almost as stressful as walking down them. I felt safer, though, because I was in the car, this time, and not having what felt like close shaves every time a car passed me. Japanese roads are so narrow! I will be taking the bus to school every day, but this bussing involves a transit stage as well! Oh man, public transit, it’s been so long. What if I forget how to do this?! But I’m sure I’ll get it down within a week. Until then, watch for updates about me getting lost!

ETA: Night driving is terrifying. 

It’s still raining here, probably residual from the typhoon. I hope it doesn’t rain much on my birthday. I’m meeting both my speaking partners, Moe and Ikue then…but I need to check when Okaasan wants me home. I think I have a curfew of 7pm (right in time for dinner!).

As I’m writing this, I’ve just finished settling into my room (It’s about 1:45pm). Everything’s unpacked and then put in the drawers, or closet, or shelf they belong in. One of the weirdest things so far is that Okaasan is going to do my laundry. All of it. And she cleans my room every day—I just have to make sure to keep neat and dust every week. This is so weird. My own mother hasn’t cleaned my room (while I have been living in it) for about…ten years or so. Maybe longer. And I’ve been doing my laundry for about that long…I think (I’m sure Mom or Dad will correct me in the comments if I’m mistaken).

My room is really nice. It has some stacking cubes, a desk, a book shelf, a little table (with compartments underneath!), and a bed. Like a western-style bed. I have to admit, the most comfortable I’ve slept in a while was on the futons at Seminar House 3, but I’m oh-so-willing to try the bed. It looks comfy.  I think that this room has hosted many a foreign exchange student. It’s filled with knickknacks from all over, including Thailand, Australia, Ireland, and even Minnesota. I think that maybe I can take pictures of my room, but I believe that taking pictures of the house will have to wait until I’m more integrated into the family, so you guys are on your own to imagine how my home looks for now. There’s also one thing that I’m sure will make a better person out of me: no wireless internet. I have to connect using a LAN cord to the plug downstairs. This means less time for my internet addiction, and more time for creative processes, such as hanging with friends, writing, blogging (in Microsoft Word), and exploring Japan!

Okaasan seems very western. She doesn’t have the traditional Japanese tub—only a shower. We still shower at night though. And I’m not allowed to use it in the morning unless I ask in advance. She also recycles paper—something I was told not a lot of Japanese people do. However Okaasan is very Japanese in many aspects. 

Example 1: the kitchen and laundry rooms are her domain and her domain alone. I have to knock on the door to the kitchen so I can get in, because the eating room can only be accessed through the “nice” room (which I’m guessing is barred for through traffic) or the kitchen.

Example 2: all electric appliances must be turned off and unplugged by 11pm at the latest. 

Example 3: as it write, right now (no pun intended), she is busily vacuuming away.

One thing I don’t understand (yet) is the practice of opening windows in Japan. In the car, Okaasan had the windows open (I believe instead of using air conditioning), but when it started raining, she didn’t close the windows at all! I admit, it was a light sprinkle, but in America, my mom would have had the windows up in a flash. Also, during a mild rainstorm, Okaasan left the windows open. At least in my room, there was water all over the window sill. Of course, this could be because it was typhoon weather, and normal rain usually doesn’t blow into the house. I’m not sure.

And now onto the food!

For lunch, Okaasan made me a sandwich. But what a sandwich it was! It had all sorts of vegetables, chicken/tuna, and salami chunks mixed together in some mayonnaise dressing and presented with a half circle of corn, a spring of basil, grapes, peeled Japanese pears, and usagi ringo (rabbit-shaped apples)! I admit I had some reservations when Okaasan first explained to me what she was putting into it, but I kept face and nodded like a bobble head, telling her that I liked everything that she was showing me. It was totally worth it because it was so delicious. And the bread, oh in Japan, the bread! As shown before with the melon pan, bread is pretty big in Japan. This does not only apply to sweet breads, but regular bread as well. One slice of Japanese bread is equivalent to about 3 slices of American bread in width. They are huge and fluffy (and also delicious). It took my breath away when I saw it, it was so elaborate. And I mean, it was a freakin’ sandwich. Usually you just plop it on a plate and be done with it. But it had a basil garnish. Like I was at some sort of expensive café! I give Okaasan (and Japan) twenty points for presentation.  I only wish I had gotten a picture of it, but I don’t want to seem too weird right away. ;P

Then at 3pm, we had tea time. Okaasan presented me with some yummy “evening tea” with apple pie and mango sherbet. She’s really pulling out all the stops for me! I feel kinda guilty, even though I know if I had a guest I’d be doing the exact same thing. I made the mistake of showing Okaasan the pictures I brought of my home and family during tea time. She spent so much time on them; she didn’t get a chance to eat her apple pie or drink her coffee. I wish that I had shown them to her after she had a little sustenance. She was really amazed by the size of our farm (even though it’s only around 14 acres) and also by the fact that we eat all that we grow, and don’t sell the produce at market. She explained that in Japan, farmers keep only about 40% of what they grow and import a lot of stuff, while in America we keep 100-120% of what we grow and also import stuff in. I don’t think that I explained well enough that we only grow enough food to feed ourselves, and don’t do it for profit. I think that maybe in Japan, that idea is unthinkable (at least with the amount of land that I showed her in the photographs), that such a big farm produces such a (relatively) small amount.

Then she spent some time showing me her pictures. She’s been to Thailand, Myanmar, Korea, and Turkey! She’s an awesome traveler and has such cool pictures. Of course, we spent at least 10 minutes looking at pictures of Ryowa, her grandson. He’s soooo cute! Right now he’s three, but there are many pictures of him as a baby and toddler. かわいい、なぁ (he’s really cute!). We spent about two and a half hours looking at pictures. I wonder if I can call Okaasan’s son Oniisan (big brother). I’m definitely making him and his wife a card for congratulations. Later, I will ask Okaasan.

For dinner we went out to a kaiten (conveyer-belt) sushi restaurant! Never before have I seen such food porn in real life. Those were the best-looking mass made sushi I have ever seen. They looked like things you would see in a magazine or something. Unfortunately, still no pictures. Between the two of us, Okaasan and I demolished 12 plates of sushi. It was delicious and it all amounted to under $17 USD. Best. Welcome. Ever. I got to eat ika (squid), maguro (tuna), tako (boiled octopus), ima (sea breem), and naga tako (rare, raw octopus) among others. I had to keep on convincing Okaasan to choose some stuff to her liking as well. She kept on insisting that it was my night, but I was like, “Okaasan, please don’t make me feel like a sushi-eating monster. Get some for yourself,” and “What do you recommend?” I even got to special order kyuri maki (cucumber roll). You special order by pressing a button, and then a waitress comes to take your order, then the computer tells you when your order is coming towards you on the conveyer belt. I did the ordering in Japanese and everything. Okaasan applauded me after the waitress left. Keitai sushi is very cheap, which is why there’s always a line of families and teenagers waiting for their ticket to be called. I was the tallest person in the place (being the only gaijin) and I towered over everyone. I’m just glad I wasn’t wearing my platform heels. I could feel lots of people staring at me, but I guess that’s the life of the gaijin in Japan. In the car ride home, I impressed Okaasan by knowing about Sei Shonagon’s Makura Shoshi (The Pillow Book) and Kintarou (a Japanese folk legend). Okaasan was wonderful tonight.

I think I’m really going to like it here. I just hope that I’ve made an as good impression on Okaasan as she has on me. I know the Japanese concept of tatamae, or “wrapping” one’s guest from the inner workings of the house, and since it’s my first day here, I know that I’m not going to be treated like family. And I’m okay with that, because right now, I don’t really know how to act like a Japanese family member. I don’t know how much laundry to give Okaasan in a day (but I’m going to ask the CIE), how to compliment her, and I’m still a little shaky on what is actually a compliment and what is a (unspoken) reprimand. In addition, my Japanese is very shaky and I’m only understanding about two thirds of what comes out of Okaasan’s mouth, but I manage to understand through context. And gesturing. Lots and lots of gesturing.

As I write this, it’s actually September 4, 2011, but I have just experienced what I believe to be the Japanese “yes actually means no” phenomenon about using the internet and I don’t want to push Okaasan too far on the first day (or any day afterwords!). Anyways, I have internet access at school, and tomorrow (well, today) starts my first class, a Japanese cultural anthropology class. In the morning, Okaasan and I are going to the City Hall to apply for my Alien Registration card. Then we are exploring the busses, and by “exploring” I mean “showing me which ones to take.” Apparently the bus stop I get on in the morning is not the same one I get off at…

I’m going to bed now, Okaasan insists that moving in day is hard, and I gotta agree. 8:30 tomorrow, we’re eating breakfast and then leaving to start the day!