Ep. 7 Ko-nowing Konos

Far from a vicious vacuum of vice, villainy, and vitriolic viscosity, this veritable village--of a certain city size--of Konosu seems a peaceful place of sleep and slumber. Having lived here for but two weeks, the epicenter of activity--the Elumi shopping mall--is well explored and known. However, outside the mall exists a world both fain and fair; a world filled with the meeting of the known and unknown, a point where feelings of nostalgia mix with the curiosity caused by a circuitous circumference of culture: The Knownish lands. Here reside the Knownish people, so called because while they may be known by appearance or personality, they are known no further than that. Here too reside the Knownish fauna, who are so famed for their trickery of appearing as simple trees of a similar yet subtly-strange variety to what one has back home. Likewise are the Knownish buildings, which contain such Known symbols as these

the ever swirling infinity of red, white, and blue symbolizing the ever entwined--yet never modernly mixed--professions of barber and surgeon. Likewise, on a similar yet more fashionable shop, appears the lettering

So familiar, yet the meaning is hidden behind a cultural wall alien to American sensibilities. Equally un-comprehensible is the unusual usage of, "since" upon this circular sign. Usually symbolizing a certain sagacity and skill, in this case it's decree that said shop has existed since the very beginnings of time ten years ago in 2003 gives the impression of higher dreams than the bright colors suggest. Still, within this town there do indeed lie many secrets; secrets so terrible and grand that they dominate the atmosphere of a one block radius. Still, as an intrepid explorer and adventurous American, it is my duty to uncover those secrets and restore peace, order, rational, and utter chaotic insanity to this world!


I am convinced that 90% of the shops in Konosu fall into one of two varieties. They are either a) hair cutting places, or b) Patisseries. The above two where less than a block apart from each other, with another around the corner from each. Plus the one in the mall...plus the one across the street from the mall...plus the one around the corner from the mall...etc etc etc. The pastry shops, however, are a little more difficult to find, due to their desire to be more refined. They seem to shun bright colors entirely, going for the classy look that only the utterly obtuse obtain. In fact, quite often they are a combined flower and pastry shop. There are four in the mall, all next to each other, though one has been relegated to the position of kiosk. There is another across the street from the mall,

one around the corner from my apartment, etc you get the idea. They are everywhere; and for the life of me I cannot see how they could all stay in business. In fact, I can't see how any of them are in business, since I have never seen a single human being set foot in one; but obviously, the desire of this town for constant haircuts and a near limitless supply of small, sweet treats must go beyond the normal. Still, I have only been here a few weeks; it might make an interesting little experiment to see how many are still around at this time next year.

Anyway, this is the mall where I work:

 And this is the insane intersection near the mall:

True, in terms of sheer messiness this has nothing on kamikaze corner (I must admit, I feel a little strange saying that name while being in Japan, given the differences--and there's another earthquake--in how our respective cultures see that word. But, a name is a name, so I will use it) but it is still intimidating none the less. This is a T shaped intersection--clearly seen here are the arms of the T...

And from here, pretty much directly across the leftmost cross walk from where I was, you can sort of see the intersecting end of the other road. You can also see the brilliant simplicity in their solution. See, the danger in an intersection is that some sad pedestrian will try to walk across and get hit by a car. Within the general perception of the universe, this is considered bad. So, in what was obviously a quest to save lives because people apparently weren't smart enough to go across one way and across the other, all pedestrians walk at the same time. No cars. And, not surprising, this works. People don't have to worry about being hit by cars, and cars don't have to worry about being sent to the scrap heap because their insurance premiums got too high. Overall, an elegant--if strange--system.

There is a building next to the mall. Here is what the sign outside says.

A fairly small and quaint public library. They have their movie section, their music section, and they even have a little section for children where you have to take off your shoes. All in all, a quaint, civic little place of learning and self betterment. This is the building that it's housed in:

The library takes up a fraction of the first floor, the rest being given over to storage and things. The second floor, apparently, has a rather nice--and cheap--Italian restaurant. All in all, a fun little cultural exchange to compliment the library one floor below. The top two floors, however, are something all together different. They are the brand new--and, at $18 a ticket, expensive by US standards--movie theater. I have not gone to a movie yet, but in a land where I feel like I'm in the future, suddenly I know events before they happen. Because this theater shows a lot of international films, and they tend to be several months behind the US. As such, while Japan is only just starting to get promotions for a movie entitled, "Minions" in Japan, I already know the plot (also, hearing minions singing Boberan while on the way to work is a surprisingly good pick-me-up). As such, I should be able to avoid spending my money there for a few months, although I must say that I am tempted to see what they are like.

Speaking of spending money, things in Japan are a little different than the US. For one, Japan is very much a cash based economy. That doesn't mean that places won't accept cards, but that to have someone in front of you pull out their card is akin to having someone ahead of you pull out their checkbook back home: things are about to take far longer than they should. Once the tech-obsessed dipwads have finished the overly laborious process--read: I miss the ease that are swipers back home--and everyone else has gone through, it is now time to pay. In the US, it is considered good manners to pass the money physically from your hand to the employees hand; I don't know why, it just is. Here in Japan, that is not always the case; in fact, in most places, it is considered a tad barbaric to do so. Instead, most registers in Japan have a little pan next to them, either on the counter or on the teller machine. You put your money into the pan, and the checkout person will then take it, ask to make sure that this is how you want to pay, and give you your change. Generally, this change will include what is probably the single most useless currency that I have ever seen: the one yen coin. In a place where all but the cheapest of the cheap costs over 100 yen, why do they feel the need to have a penny? I will admit, we have the darn, useless thing in the US, and it's annoying because you almost never get to use it and it costs more to make than the value of the coin. But at least there it's a decimal place! Here, it's part of the larger total! Of course, since I mentally move the decimal place over two spots anyway, there really isn't any difference between the two coins. Oh wait, there is. In the US, we only really see a penny because something is ._9 cents. Here, I have bought things that end in a six, giving me four of the bloody things. Honestly, I keep carrying four one yen coins around with me to round up, but keep forgetting about them. GGGGAAAAAHHHHHHH!!! I'm drowning in circular aluminum uselessness!
But, back to Japan, your clerk will then give you your change. If you are in a grocery store, they will then hand you the new basket they have placed your items in, put in two plastic bags, and send you on your way to pack your own things into bags. It keeps lines fast, and ensures that you always know where everything is. In a goods store--such as where I got the throw pillows for my couch (that's right, I have throw pillows. This knowledge excites me more than it should, but the fact that I bought throw pillows for MY couch makes me feel so...responsible)--and non-grocery food stores, they will put your purchases in a bag and then carefully take the bag shut. Sometimes, after this, then will then put your smaller bag into a larger one, which they will keep open. I don't know why they do this, but they do. And I'm fine with it, because it ensures that all of my stuff stays dry, but it's still a little bit of a shock every time that they do it.
Now, the last difference in payment can be quite large. ~15% on average, to be precise. That's right, I'm talking about tips. In America, it is expected to tip, so workers wages are comparatively low with the expectation that their tips will make up the difference. In Japan, no one tips. Ever. For anything. So, today I had dinner and decided that I wanted a taste of home. It has been almost a month since I first arrived, and the only truly western thing that I have bought was a box of lucky charms. So, I went to the mall, went to the food court, and opted for the only western delight available to me: Baskin Robbins. I say only because, though there is a KFC in the food court, recent events have confirmed that meat is just not something that I can eat. Anyway, I was planning on a small cone, but when I got there I noticed that they still had a sign up. This was a sign that I had been staring at since it went up about a week and a half ago: crepes. Baskin Robbins was selling crepes. Now, they had moved the sign out of the way, so I hadn't noticed it at first. However, when I saw it I knew that one must be mine. So, I went up and, after a small exchange, ordered one. As this was an American based company, I expected that they would have the crepe in the back, waiting to be heated, then covered in ice creamy goodness and handed to the customer. No. This is Japan, where even McDonalds apparently tastes fresh and their Chicken nuggets apparently taste as though they once came from a real chicken. They gave me a number, and I got to watch as the lady behind the counter frantically made the dough, baked the crepe, prepared the whipped cream, and put on the ice cream, all while simultaneously helping the steady stream of customers who happened to come just behind me. I felt so bad that I was making the end of her day that much worse. In the US we are told that a tip is supposed to be for good service, so if someone treats you well then you tip them extra-well. However, in Japan, no one tips. For anything. Ever. And so, when my crepe was prepared, I thanked her, and felt bad that I could do nothing else for her incredible work ethic.

Now, I'm going to end this post with some pictures, but before I do I must reiterate a point that I made in my first post: I'm not here to talk about my job. Believe me, there are stories that I want to tell, but for my students and my fellow staff members, I won't--they're all positive stories, by the by. The thing is, as culturally illiterate as I am, I could easily say something that, in the US, wouldn't have even blipped on the radar of, "issue", yet here could be counted as a great insult. As an educator, I cannot and will not ever put anyone in my workplace in an awkward position--the surrounding community, however, is a different matter. One final thing about being abroad...(*spoiler alert*) for those of you who have not seen it, the new Star Trek movie starts off with the crew of the Enterprise saving a very technologically unadvanced race from extinction. In the process, they become gods, and the race abandons the religion that they had been following to now worship the Enterprise (*end spoiler*). I hate this part of the movie. I have kvetched to many people about this part of the movie. Why? Because culture lasts. More often than not, when a culture comes across something that it cannot explain, it does not abandon what it has and take up this new thing. Rather, it adapts the new thing to the culture. In the case of the movie, the aliens should have started worshiping the Enterprise as a messenger of the gods, not a supreme god itself. Likewise--and this connects to a story that I'm not posting here--people will always analyze new information within the framework that they have. So, if they make the wrong assumption from some new information, it's simply because they are adapting it to what their culture taught them to think. Anyway, this has been another Adventure in the Austentatious. If you liked it, tell your friends; if you hated it, tell your enemies; and if you don't care either way, tell everyone.



Picture Time:

This is what counts as a park in Konosu: a strip of green between two streets.

Yes, that is an ice cream vending machine. Now that I have seen everything

...

A cute little house that I saw. It's Western influence made it stand out.

I found a shrine, though I have yet to visit it.

Information about the shrine.

The entrance to a cemetery. I will be visiting there, but not with my camera.

I have no idea what this is, but it was on a back road behind a hair cutting place. Any ideas?

When abroad, anything recognizable jumps out at you. Hence this: Century 21.

A small map of Konosu, near the station.
One final thing; If you enjoy reading my blog, and want to hear the sound of my voice, let me know in the comments and I'll start up a video blog as well to give an animated sense to my stories.