(This entry (and the few that will follow shortly) were written back at my flat and have be postponed pending transfer to a computer with ‘net access, I’m getting a phone with access soon, but until then things are still going to be moving somewhat slowly here…)
I’ve moved! The third time in two months. It nearly all went smoothly this time, plenty of time for packing, not too much stress. Everything was going fine, it even looked like I was going to turn up early, until the taxi driver got lost. Very lost. I couldn’t keep track of the number of people he stopped and asked, but I remember at least 8. What kind of a town is this?
Maybe I’m at an unfair advantage here because I wouldn’t expect to be able to understand the map so I tend to overcompensate by paying particular attention to locations and shapes and things (and my locational sense is a particular strength anyway).
We finally arrive at the right place half an hour late, thankfully the landlord (or agent or whatever he is) is still waiting for me so I don’t have to make frantic calls to people who don’t speak much English to try to explain what happened.
Much of the procedure was the same as the English ritual of moving into a new house, though I was rather freaked out by the handing over of money, I just pulled out a wad of notes and handed them over (I think I counted the right amount, but I can never be sure), he just put them away without counting them. I’m not sure if this is normal behaviour or a special show for me (and any other gaijin who happens to rent a place) or just a deeply trusting person. Whatever, I got a reciept for the full amount.
Then I get shown around where to the rubbish and how to get into the mail box (I’ve still got to do that myself sometime, I couldn’t make it work this morning) and all of that. And then abandoned to unpack (again) and get on with my life.
The flat is small but reasonably well equipped. The kitchenette is limiting, with only a single hob and no work space. The bathroom is equally, erm, well, lets put it like this, I can’t put my hands on my hips and turn around without sustaining a bruised elbow. And the bath isn’t really a bath, I somehow felt like I was in Brazil (the film, not the country) squishing up in the bath where, even with my knees under my chin, I only just had space to move around, with the noise of the air conditioner in the background and the plastic and flickering flourescents everywhere.
So I went out for a wander and to get some provisions. Everywhere was closed on Sunday afternoon. I’d not seen the shops anywhere else close, let alone in daylight. Oh well, I found the family mart open.
Back to the flat and suddenly the local addiction to gadgets takes on an ugly prospect. How do I work all these damned appliances? What are they supposed to do anyway? I think I’ve figured out most of them, theres still one I’m unsure about, but I’m just going to fill it with water and see what happens. After a few hours of randomly pushing buttons I’ve washed and dried some clothes, retuned the best channel on the TV to noise, overcooked some rice and still got no idea how the microwave works or, indeed, if it does work.
After all that fun I decided I’d take a walk to Harajuku to see if I could figure out where it was. Disturbingly it now takes me less time to walk to the nearest alternative market (or department store, but thats in the other direction) than it took me to drive to the nearest sensible shop from my last house.
I found the other half of the Harajuku lanes (whatever they’re called), full of loads of little shops and market stalls and stuff. This is where all the gothic lolita shops are, it seems. And a cowpoo shop. But I didn’t linger too long around there.
On my way to work on Monday morning, I noticed I was living on the next block to “Freaks of go go creator”. No comment on whether this is a good thing. This area itself seems to be the clothing design quarter of the city, mainly mens fashion around my particular area, with ladys fashion closer to the station. Which means I get the benefit of walking against an endless flow of well dressed beautiful young females on their way to work as I’m heading to the station of a morning, an unexpected benefit of this location.
And the next task is to find a mobile phone. You’d have thought that working where I do there’d be no problem finding people who knew about phones. Somehow, though, its being a bit more difficult than I’d expected. I think I need to get a Foma phone, the Docomo 3G standard (WCDMA to you and I), these seem to come with two cameras and 384kbps burst data capabilities and connection to Japanese windows…which I’m hoping I can skirt around by careful application of sticking plaster and a little software trickery. Anyone out there got any comments? Important things are data capability (I’ve *got* to get on the net through this computer) and reasonably priced international calls, unimportant things are handset cost (I found an ideal one at 80000Yen = ~400quid, WCDMA/GSM dual stack, camera, etc, but couldn’t find a connection to go with it, how gratuitous would it be to have two working camera phones at Whitby? Alternatively if anyone happens by a Vodafone shop and they’ve got one could you drop it in the post for me?…ta!) and inclusive local calls.
Of course, before I can get a phone out here I need an alien registration card. I should be able to get one of those now that I’ve got an address…if only I can work out how to get one, I think I’ve got to find the ward office and present myself, my passport, some photographs and an application form. Then I have to wait a couple of weeks until they’ve processed some paperwork, then I’m official. For a few months at least. It also means I can apply for a reentry permit so I can leave the country and reenter, otherwise I need to reapply for a visa, which is not something I really have the patience to go through again. So the practicality of getting to my cousins wedding in Canada is looking a little doubtful (despite having tried to move the money side of things around to make it affordable). I’m going to see what they say on Friday (I’ve got a day full of meetings tomorrow), how long it will take.
Today saw my first real shopping trip since moving in on Sunday, and my first meal involving cooking rather than just microwaving things from packets with pictures of cows and mushrooms on the outside. It was an experimental beef and sweetcorn chilli, which was largely a success, and can probably move to alpha release state once I’ve toned down the chilliness somewhat. Not sure the hotel margarine really helped…not even sure what thats all about, but the top brands of most of the packaged food I found was labelled with the name (and sometimes picture) of an expensive sounding hotel.
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