NOBLE STUBBORNNESS

That’s the original motto of the university. Nowadays, they prefer the newer “Mastery for Service,” but you can still find plaques in English with the old stubbornness motto – perhaps part of that tradition of noble stubbornness!

We’re nearing the end of week 2 here, and I’m happy to say I know my way around (both walking and by train) better than the first week. My contract is signed. I’ve figured out how to use my Japanese washing machine (in Japanese script) – but not my refrigerator, which I can’t seem to get cooler because I still can’t read the settings.

Most of my neighbors at Canaan House apartment complex - 15 minutes' walk from campus - are fellow teachers here, so we help each other out. The other new teacher, Susan from Ohio, shares the same landing with me, and we’ve been out once this week together to try a local ramen place that a Japanese staff member recommended. (It was 4 times further from the train station than I had understood. One elderly lady hair dresser who we stopped to ask directions of walked with us the entire way for about 10 minutes!)



Got up the nerve Sunday to take the train down two stops to the main Nishinomiya station, which has a sky walk directly to the new glitzy “Nishinomiya Gardens” mall. (They use the English name.) Four stories of fascinating familiarity and bewildering differences. Banana Republic, Cold Stone Creamery - yes. Cul de Paris (“anus of Paris”) - no. In fact, I doubt the French would recognize that last one.

I was flummoxed at one stationery store when the cashier kept asking 'ik-kai?' (“one time?” Or did she mean, “first floor?”) I just kept saying “ii desu!” (that’s fine) and finally got the bag. Turns out you can opt to split your purchase price into several payments – although how many Japanese couldn’t afford a $33 purchase?

The other thing that strikes the North American shopper here is the relentless verbiage of the store/restaurant help (who seem to be everywhere). They assault every entering customer with a kind of nasal ‘irasshaimase-e-e-e!’ (welcome!) over and over and jointly chime in ‘arigato gozaimashita-a-a-a’ as they leave, and every new clerk you encounter bows and asks if you need help. Fortunately, you aren’t expected to carry on a lengthy conversation, just nod wanly in their direction.

This weekend, I’ve booked a room (“6 tatami mats”-size) at a semi-traditional Japanese inn in classical Kyoto, about an hour away. A nice get-away before classes start and one of Japan’s more tourist-friendly (and English-speaking) destinations.

Domo arigato gozaimashita-a-a-a-a!