The World Is Bigger Than You Think

Our friend in the dumpster

Over time, most trips we take have ended up with a mantra - which later becomes the motto and standard.  

This started with our trip to Ukraine - setting out into the depths of red tape, strange alphabets, post-communist government, and as-yet-unknown children.  Every time we'd come across a food we couldn't identify ("ham" was always interesting), a street that looked a little menacing, a city without a map, a squat outhouse bathroom in the middle of a field, we'd remind ourselves - 
"It's an Adventure!"

When we settled on Japan as our locations (adding in the Philippines didn't happen until 3 weeks before the trip) many people asked us, "Why Japan?  Why not Europe where you know the culture and languages?"  

Steven would tell them, 
"Because we want our kids to know that the world is bigger that they think.  And there is so much more than cultures and languages that we already know." 

(Well, that and because Steven's passport expires in 5 months and many countries won't let him in without 6 months of validity.) 

We've been home for 3 weeks and it's been interesting to mull over the things that are so very different - how the world really is so much bigger and so much richer and so much more amazing than we realized.  

Some of them are rich and profound, which I touched on in my posts about Hiroshima and the Imperial Palace. 

Some of them, though we thought were expected, were nothing like what we expected. 

We don't fit.  

Since we were bringing two people over 6' tall, we knew we would stand out and that there would be places Steven and Jonathan might hit their heads. 

But seriously - we didn't fit!! 

Those are Susan's feet. (size 8.  Only Irene's are smaller.)  The step didn't even reach the ball of my foot.  Most of us had to climb the stairs as if they were a ladder.

 This is not the lamp over a table - he's used to hitting his head on those.  This is on the sidewalk.



The crowds

We were pleasantly surprised at this one.  
Every trip advisor warned us of the horrible crowds, the mash of bodies with people whose jobs it was to shove passengers back in as they spill out upon doors opening.  

This was taken during rush hour on the busiest train line in Tokyo.  It obviously was full, but it certainly wasn't intolerable.  
Excepting that one bus.....



Translations can be funny 

Otherwise known as hand gel. 

Some of them are unexpected. 

Eating while walking is frowned upon.  

If you stop and stand in an alcove or corner, that's okay, but you don't munch while you go.  
This is so much so that vending machines have a recycling bin right next to them.  You get a drink, finish it, and then move on. 




Our first day here.  Oops.

This really messed with our vacation style since on most trips we almost always eat breakfast and lunch while walking from one place to another.  Good thing it was Lent - we fasted a lot.



However, sleeping in public is totally normal. 

Working yourself to exhaustion is praiseworthy.  One of the words for "goodbye" is otsukaresama deshita. 
"You are tired." 

Everywhere you went, people would be sleeping - on the metros, on public benches, even leaning up against buildings.  There are societal rules for how to sleep at work or school.
They even have signs on the subways for appropriate positions for sleep during different traffic patterns! 

And, of course,
 the toilets.

If you, like I, have previously heard nor cared about Japanese washroom fixtures, 

here is a brief tutorial and another brief tutorial.  

(I originally listed them numerically, but it was pointed out that might be considered a terrible pun.)

Phrases I never expected to say: 

There is so much to say about the toilets! 

In really busy public restrooms, there is a panel on the wall with a map of the bathroom stalls - they light up white or red, depending on if they are vacant or in use.  I greatly regret I never got a photo. 

My first car had less technology than these toilets. 

They need a control panel.  

The lower end varieties (really! No pun intended!) have the controls affixed to the seat. 

But if you spring for the fancy one, it has a remote control panel. 

Usually it's affixed to the wall. 

I'll admit, the idea of a portable remote that could be removed and turned on from a distance on unsuspecting guests makes us laugh. 

To save space and water, they install a sink in the back of the toilet.  This way, you can wash your hands while the tank refills.  Very fitting with the philosophy of mottainai.   

Along with the standard toilet paper and seat covers, most public restrooms also have wall-mounted sanitizing spray (like Lysol) and instructions on how to clean the seat before use.

Now, the seats themselves include such things as:  


 Heated seat.
(Remember I previously mentioned that many places don't have central heating nor adequate insulation)

Seemingly limitless different bidet functions.

 Music (or other white noise) when you sit down.
The button is labeled: Privacy giving.


I never thought I'd be so fascinated and appreciative of bathroom fixtures.

Ours is being delivered next week.

Reminiscent of our other travels


It's slightly comforting to know you can find an Irish pub anywhere.  

Some are culturally and historically fascinating. 

Doors 

Doorways into almost everything are tiny.  Restaurants, stores, apartments, you name it.  Numerous Tardis references were made because once you walk through, it either expands out to be larger or walks you up (equally claustrophobic) stairs to a larger space. 

With seven of us and only one able to walk through at a time, removing shoes had a queue longer than some at Disneyland!

This doorway leads to a 3-story, 3 bedroom apartment.


It seems that, in olden days, taxes were calculated based on how large your building was from the front.  
The only guarantees in life being death and taxes, since we cannot evade death, we must try to evade taxes. 


The same building - you aren't taxed for vertical space!

Merchants and homeowners would band together to fit 3 or 4 doorways in the space of one shopfront, extending the building back and up to fit them all.

Some are just odd


Douglas Adams was clearly Japanese.
Bathrooms in Japan (which are, by the by, called "comfort rooms" in the Philippines) never have paper towels and very rarely have hand dryers. At first, we couldn't figure out what we were supposed to do - do you dry them with toilet paper?  On your pants?  (that is quite uncomfortable when it's nearly freezing outside.) 

After a few days, we started noticing that every store around had a large display of washcloths and/or handkerchiefs.  Everyone assumed that everyone would have, in their pocket, a hand-drying cloth.  

So yes, dear friends, always bring your towel.  


There are vending machines everywhere.  
The average train platform has 8-10 vending machines - not train station, train platform.   There were far more in the lower floors of the station. 

But - they are all drinks. 

Some are hot vending machines, should you want coffee or tea.



Some are cold machines, should you want water or soda. 
There is the very rare ice cream vending machine at super-tourist locations. 




But in our entire time there, we did not see a single food vending machine.  

Some are irritating

There are, seriously, no public trash cans.  


Recycling containers next to every aforementioned vending machine, yes, but nary a trash can to be seen.  


One more than one occasion I carried an empty coffee cup for more than a mile before I was able to throw it away.  

They vacuum the streets, but you can't throw away your trash. 

However, there are signs everywhere that announce "We Are A Litter Free City"  and "Beautiful City!  Throw Your Trash Away!" 

Even so, there are still issues like this


This was on the walk between our apartment and the train station. And every day we itched to figure out some way to clean them up. 

Lines.  

Lines are very important here.  Very important. 

We were not standing inside the lines.  We got very dirty looks. 
(That and the eating.  But mostly the lines.) 
Most faux pas (including eating) got us patronizing smiles of "awww, the cute tourists."  
There was no such empathy for disorderly line-standing. We got dirty looks every time we didn't stand in the lines.  

Do you know how challenging it is to corral 7 people and all their luggage inside these tiny lines?  And certainly never turn or use any hand gestures - you will hit the person in the tiny line next to you. 

Some are endearing. 

Beauty

Beauty is something that we lack in America.  Not beauty of face or clothes, but beauty of spirit and environment.  

Beauty is so important here - everything is given a chance to show that.  I begin to understand Mari Kondo's "spark joy" idea, though I think she just misses the mark.  

Since it's cherry blossom season, everything is decorated in sakura. 

Even the raw meat is given beauty.  

The idea of "sparking joy" - which actually translates to a heart's flutter or throb - is a philosophy that we could do with a bit more in our society.  The things which make your heart smile just a bit - someone vacuuming the sidewalk or a child on a swingset squealing with excitement - make the world better. 

Not that everything we see or touch must make us joyful (schlepping diarrhea pills and a pound of paper copies of every bit of documentation possible in case something is stolen makes my heart sink, not soar) 
but... if it is possible to make the mundane lovely, we should. 

The world is bigger and more beautiful than we could have imagined.