Sho Fukamachi Online

The title kind of says it all. Note how the guy isn’t looking at music or even a freaking playlist.

All residential neighbourhoods in Tokyo have a public address system. In mine, every day at 6pm there’s an announcement, set to music, that it’s time for schoolchildren to go home. And whenever there is something to announce, at random times throughout the day, you’ll hear the voice of the “bousai” department echoing through the suburbs.

The local “bousai” (防災) department is something unique to Japan. In a country so unhappily accustomed to natural disasters, they’ve set up a whole network of regional centers for diaster prevention. That’s what “bousai” means – disaster prevention. I live in Toda City, and my local announcements are from “Bousai Toda” – Toda City Disaster Prevention Bureau. Think of it as a regional office of FEMA.

Just a few minutes ago the familar voice erupted from the speakers, and in a booming, echoey voice, informed the citizens that due to inclement weather conditions – very hot, muggy and windless – photochemical smog has reached dangerous levels. Residents are advised to stay inside, closing all doors and windows, and not to look at the sky – the smog has weakened the ozone, allowing harmful UV light through to ground level. It will rain soon, which should alleviate the problem.

Public announcements over city-wide PA systems warning to stay inside due to photochemical smog. You sure don’t get that in Australia.

Coming soon to Starbucks Japan: Iced Pumpkin Spice Latte.

Today I really slammed my head into the top of the doorframe while getting off the Saikyou line at Ikebukuro. I usually don’t do it, but I was being pushed from behind – I had to get out to let all the other people past, then get back on. Anyway, this distraction meant I forgot about the door and .. wham.

RIGHT in front of this big group of schoolgirls! Perfect! Well, that gave them something to titter about. 痛いよ！

One of a very long list I know, but this one is obvious. Westerners (well me, anyway) do not have a special set of clothes for indoor wear. I make no distinction between “outside clothes” and “inside clothes”. I don’t wear a tracksuit in my house, I wear exactly what I’d be wearing outside my house. And if I did wear pyjamas, which I don’t, I’d put them on immediately before going to bed, and change quickly after waking up.

Asians seems to be different, they seem to have “house clothes”. I don’t know why, really. I thought it was because they wear pyjamas to bed because it’s cold .. but it’s not cold, it’s fricking hot, and they’re still wearing pyjamas.

So there you go, a genuine cultural difference. Can’t see myself ever adopting it. It will be a cold day in hell before I ever wear a tracksuit off the atheletics field, and I don’t care if anyone is there to see or not …

This time by topic.

That’s what I told the girl at the supermarket tonight when she asked if I was watching the soccer (probably presuming I was some kind of soccer-mad european). I told her that Australia was playing Japan tomorrow, and “Australia Number One”!!! And then repeated it a few times, just so she understood.

Her response? “わかりました。” That’s right!

As an update to my previous post detailing an amusing conversation I had with a Japanese cleaning lady, in which I attempted to tell her that the washlet on the toilet was broken and ask if maintenance could come and fix it: Today maintenance came and fixed the air conditioner, which wasn’t broken.

UPDATE: The man also cleaned the stove and did something to a screen door. Guess I really got my message across.

I had an amusing conversation today with the japanese cleaning lady, who is aged approximately 2000 and understands no english – in fact she may actually have a negative level of understanding of english. I, who can express myself in only the most basic japanese, was trying to tell her to inform building maintenance that the washlet on the toilet was not working. Following an extended sequence of hand-waving, miming, pointing at the ceiling and bewildered looks from both parties, I believe she will now inform management that I wish the toilet to be removed ASAP.

I love it when japanese people (and probably westerners do it too) think that if they just slow their speech down enough, you’ll finally understand, as if the problem is that you just can’t distinguish the syllables. I can distinguish them fine, I just have no fucking clue what they mean. Ah, there’s nothing like a totally botched conversation to pour cold water on your foreign-language confidence – I’d had quite a successful few days and had been pretty sure I’d be able to make myself understood. Ah well! Life is a journey, as they say. Now I’m going to hide in my room until I’m sure she’s gone.