Nihon News Part I - "Ils sont fous les Japonais!"
Greetings from Kanazawa!
My first impression of Japan was Kansai Airport in
Osaka: clean, well designed and well organized, but
somewhat forbidding in its linoleum whiteness. Stefan
Gaechter met me there, and a newfound friend of his
helped us get the train ticket to Kanazawa. In
Kanazawa (pop. about 400'000), waiting for our bus, we
were joined by the local drunk who force-fed us sushi,
chattered away in Japanese (we understood the
occasional "oggEH"), and pulled on my beard. He then
began to sing fragments of "Oh my darling Clementine"
and "Oh when the saints." The effects of alcohol seem
to be globally the same.
Next day Sunday we trekked to the Rifare building
where we were to meet our respective host family. My
host father and host mother, whom I will refer to as
Otousan and Okaasan, came to pick me up, and once home
I was introduced to their children: Kotaro (16), Kenji
(14), Shingo (12), and Mika (10; the only girl). By
Japanese standards a large family, but, as I later
found out, I was already homestay student number 12!
I soon settled into my routine: Japanese class from
9am to 12pm in Rifare, occasionally followed by
cultural activities in the afternoon. The library in
the same building offers computers for e-mailing. The
first week, I walked to Rifare (40 min); since then I
have taken the bike. (This might change come rainy
season.)
The Japanese seem to have an odd relationship to
bikes. They possess some of the best bike technology
worldwide, but they ride simply horrible bikes.
Let me expand on those bikes. The average Japanese
bike is painted silver, too small for even a Japanese,
and frequently not equipped with a gear-shifting
system. If it is, they barely use it; I have cycled
behind a Japanese who rode a fourteen-speed bike but
never changed gears for roughly a kilometer of city
traffic. Usually, the Japanese bicycle also boasts a
wireframe basket in front of the handlebars, which is
handy, but decreases mechanical stability
considerably. The irony is that some really neat
technology flows into these nevertheless crappy bikes:
rear wheel disc brakes, planetary gear systems, or
even occasionally a chainless bike (clean pants!).
The Japanese also have an odd relationship with the
act of biking. While cycling, they'll smoke, talk on
their cell phone, listen to music, carry an open
umbrella, have their girlfriend stand on the rear
axle, or manage any combination of the above. They
also seem to choose the side of the road or sidewalk
either randomly or for reasons of expedience, and
frequently do not even slow down at stop signs. When
asked, Kotaro denied knowledge of any rules of the
road for bicycles (except "one passenger only"); a
month into my stay I finally discovered a rule book in
the library. Thus, rules (sensible rules) do exist,
and the general unanimous disregard thereof is all the
more surprising as the Japanese are generally a very
rule-abiding and courteous people. Indeed, I think
their rowdy cycling can be explained by a lack of
awareness of the danger involved. Last week, I had to
slam on my brakes to avoid crashing into a high-school
girl leisurely cycling across a red light. Her look
was one of innocent surprise, and she probably went on
to tell her friends of the wide-eyed gaijin that
nearly broadsided her... Needless to say, I am quite
awake once I get to Rifare.
This e-mail is getting rather longish, and I still
haven't described Kanazawa, our cultural activities,
my outings, home life, or the strange results of
Japanese fascination with foreign languages (as
evidenced for example in a chocolate called PetitBit).
I hope to cover some of these topics in future
mailings. Until then, sayonara, and let me hear from
you!
Yours,
Stephan Stuecklin
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