Fucking Japanese Toilets

So, this is was my 4th day in Japan. According to my "studying abroad guide," I am still well within the honeymoon period where everything is great, I can laugh at the little mistakes and different cultural norms, everything is new and interesting, and, above all, I am happy. It is kinda depressing, honestly, to think that after a couple weeks I will be dropped from paradise into the cold pool of harsh reality: my cultural faux pauxs will longer be tolerated, -- I should learn by then -- my inability to communicate what I really want to say, due to a lack of vocab/grammar, will no longer be a nuisance but something that hobbles and obfuscates day to day interaction, as well as the knowledge that these friends, with the exceptions of the ones that speak English fluently, really won't know me. I understand "actions speak louder than words," and through that I can communicate, but at the same time my actions are tinted through whatever cultural lens the people around me are using, be it a small town in Germany or Finnland, the countryside of Japan, a bustling city in Spain, or a quaint suburb in Korea. This shit sucks, man. I'm all about communicating and being understood, but this is a whole new challenge.

// End edging-on-self-pity complaints regarding studying abroad

In other news, Japan's still awesome. I've met tons of people over the last few days, and have also spearheaded the whole "make a FB group for people in the program in order to meet new people" initiative. However, the most interesting person I have met is not a fellow student in the program, but my tutor, an energetic and animated character named Satoru （悟）: he's a godsend. Now, lot's of people are my kinda people, but he's the kind of strange enthusiastic individual that yells in the face of conformity while at the same time not coming off as a tool. He is who he is, and that's fackin' phenomenal. Plus he has a sky blue car to drive me around the town. +1 for Graham, Boo Yah

These past few days have revolved around getting settled into the program, including getting a local residency card, signing up for insurance, taking the placement tests for class (bombed or DOMINATED WITH MY #2 PENCIL, who knows?), and just getting my shit together. Man, I think I understand to an extent why people hate moving. The whole process of uprooting your life and moving elsewhere is painfully long and tedious. So much paperwork. So many possessions you can't bring and have to buy new. So many strange things to get used to.  This ain't no "let's go to Tufts, kids" trip, this shit is half way around the world. You want cutlery, cooking pans, and basic ingredients so you can avoid eating at the dining hall everyday? BUY THAT SHIT OVER THERE. You want insurance? FILL OUT THIS FORM THAT IS REPLETE WITH WORDS YOU DON'T KNOW. You want to use the toilet? ENJOY THE HEATED SEAT AND SONG IT PLAYS YOU AS YOU FLUSH. Okay, to be honest, the last one is pretty fucking legit. I'm trying to see if I can get a toilet to play "call me maybe".... I'll let you know how it goes.

...
"Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy, but enjoy the heated seat, let me sing to you baby."
Ya know, something like that.

BUT YO
YO YO YO YO YO

Lemme talk about tonight for one quick second. A real quick second. A lickity split second.

Tonight was the first night that I started drinking with my new friends, European, Japanese, and American alike. Social Lubricant, what can I say? It was only just a mishmash of broken English and Japanese, but through the flaming wreck that represented our attempts at communicating, a shining phoenix of respect, admiration, and appreciation arose (for a few reasons): we all were mystified, enthralled with, or excited by the bidet function of the toilet. One friend in particular, Teemu, a Finnish lad that has a great store of English idioms up his sleeves, led the discussion and spoke about the merits of this powerful bidet, hereafter referred to as the "lady button" (his words, not mine). In his childlike wonder he pressed the button without understanding what would unfold, and there he sat, listening to the whirring machinations of this futuristic toilet as a cool jet of water took him by surprise, grasping not only his attention yet also some of his innocence. However, after the potentially traumatic experience, he grew to appreciate it. And called it the lady button. I don't fucking know.

But, more than the mutual appreciate for the "lady button," I found my taste in music overlapped pretty well with one of the Japanese grad students there. We exchanged music for a bit on youtube and I ended up walking away with some new American bands, namely The Bird and The Bee. I in turn showed him Sleigh Bells and Daft Punk.

Ah man, I wish I could write well enough to fully go into detail about everything that happened today (because a lot happened, ya know?). Alas, it is 5 in the morning, and my creative juices ain't flowing like they should be.

ANYWHO, TODAY (abridged version):
Wake up, take placement test, exchange FB names/email addresses with many people, get lunch with tutor and friends, crash the fuck out for a bit, go shopping in town, miss bus back home and walk 40 minutes in the rain carrying groceries and other stuff, go drinking with buddies, talk about misfortune in communication because we aren't good enough at each other's languages, talk music, talk useless physical abilities (fingers like Spock, curl tongue, move ears, bend thumb, suck own penis, etc.), talk about the yawning, so on and so forth.

Quick idea for next time. I was thinking of putting up certain parts of my day in a status post, and then by consensus (so most likely the only person who responds), I'll write about a specific part or two. Let me know what you think.

PEACE,
MOTHA FUCKAS
























BITCHES (ah, almost got you, right?)