Japanory

The Child’s First Sleepover

Thursday 14^th June 2007 - Friday 15^th June 2007

She's only five years old and has never had a sleepover anywhere. She's not a great sleeper in her own bed: in any other bed - hotels, Nana's etc - she's impossible. Am I worried about this? NO! A night with no child… perfect! Someone else's problem for a change…

Basically, the school have arranged for the Reception kids to have their own group sleepover in the school library. They explained (in a letter) that this would be a good experience for them as from Year 1 they will go on a field trip away. I presume they've had homesickness problems with Year 1 children before, so this is their way of preparing the little ones for sleeping away from home.

What a great idea! They will be with all their friends in a fairly familiar environment. What an adventure for them! Teachers and teaching assistants will be sleeping there too the doors will be locked. They'll watch a movie, have a "midnight feast" (the teachers will change the time on the clock, heh heh!) and then the children will snuggle into their sleeping bags. I don't expect any sleeping to happen, but who cares?

We're given a list of things to take in - one of which is a camera "with the express rule that NO photographs of teachers in their pyjamas will be developed and displayed!"

But you'd think from the reactions from most of the mums that the school planned on kidnapping them all to sell into slavery! The general consensus was "no way is my kid going on that sleepover!" At the beginning of the week, most children were not going.

Upon further questioning of the reluctant mums, the real reason for their reticence became clear… the Friday after the sleepover was a free day. The children wouldn't be going to school as we are to collect them at 9am. This would mean certain mothers wouldn't get their free day of "ladies who lunch", manicures, gym sessions or whatever self-indulgent things they do during their week.

Fortunately kiddy peer-pressure prevailed and all the children, bar a handful, attended the sleepover.

Tim and I treated ourselves to a night out at the local Indian restaurant and very nice it was too.

The next morning I collected an extremely tired but very happy little girl from school. All the teachers looked dead on their feet! I suppose it's one thing teaching kids all day (I couldn't do that) but it's entirely another thing to take care of around 50 or 60 all night too!

Rhiannon was full of stories about her adventure. She seems to have it in her head that someone moved them all around while they were asleep because she was next to X when she went to bed, but woke up next to Y. Goodness knows what that was all about! (I may add to this post another day when I can ask Rhiannon about her memories of it)

We spent a gentle day watching TV together as she was exhausted. And an early night for her!

The unlucky children who didn't join in the sleepover had to go to school as normal that day… was it really worth depriving a child of this adventure just to save the day for the mother's manicure?

 

An Eventful Day which Required a Certificate…

Monday 11^th June 2007

I made Rhiannon a Star Certificate today. She deserved it.

Firstly, she was stoic about Tim heading off to Seoul this morning. Usually she gets upset but she's getting used to the idea now that Daddy has to travel away sometimes for work. Mainly though, it's because he's promised to bring her (another) present from there!

Then when I picked her up from Aikido after school she proudly brandished a real certificate for "Making a Good Effort". I think it's so important for children to be rewarded in this way. It encourages them to continue trying, makes them feel very special and boosts their self-esteem. When I was a kid, the thinking was that no rewards or recognition were required (for whatever dumb reason), so even though I was a pretty good athlete, I have nothing to prove that.

The rest of the certificate said this…

She told a boy to kiss her and he did

She played football with the big boys

When she fell over and cut her knee, with blood, she didn't cry at all

She helped rescue a mole from Raymi and Ginger by being very brave and chasing the cats away.

Then she helped mummy catch the mole and find it a new home and set it free

I shall explain:

After she showed me the Aikido certificate in the car on the way home, she shyly whispered that she had something to tell me and would I be cross?

"Of course not", I said, rather nervously, thinking, "oh no! What had she done? Got into trouble, sent to the Head Mistress?"

No, - she had indeed, dared a boy in her class to kiss her during play time, and he did! I wish I could remember who this boy way, but I can't. I tried not to laugh…

Next on the list - more boys! We could be in trouble in years to come…

There are a couple of boys who live next door to us and regularly play football outside the house. Rhiannon often presses her nose up against the window to watch, but lacks the Japanese language skills to talk to them and (usually) the nerve to ask if she can join in. They are some years older than her with the eldest being about 13 or so. But today, with her confidence massively boosted by the day's events she went out and they very kindly allowed her to play footie with them.

Now she's also the world's greatest drama queen when it comes to any injury; a bruise causes a meltdown and demands for a plaster, so you can imagine the palaver she creates when she gets a proper cut or graze that produces blood. Not today though! She fell on the tarmac and got a good scrape with a lot of blood that needed a real pad, not just a teeny plaster! And as the certificate states - no tears!! Being brave in front of the boys…

They went indoors after this to do their homework and Rhiannon got her skipping rope out to continue her playing outside.

Suddenly, she came running in shouting that Raymi (our cat) and his little stray friend - who we have unimaginatively named Ginger - were "being weird down the alleyway - I think they might be fighting". I could hear no fighting sounds, but went out to see what she was talking about. Sure enough, the two cats were being "weird", but it didn't take me long to work out what they were up to - they were chasing some kind of creature and playing with it. They were running up and down behind our linked-neighbour's house.

The only way to rescue whatever it was they were after was for Rhiannon to squeeze through the hedge separating our gardens and chase the cats away. I wouldn't fit. So I went down the other side of the houses armed with a plastic bucket to head the cats off and discovered a mole! Alive and unhurt, thankfully. I retrieved a scared little girl from the narrow alleyway and she helped me guide the mole into the bucket. This was the first mole she's ever seen, so we had a little natural history lesson, said a very firm no, we couldn't keep it as a pet and asked her where did she think it would prefer to live?

Just down the road is a route to an ancient, unused and dry waterway circling Shinjuku-Gyoen garden so we took it down there where Rhiannon scrambled down the bank and set it free in the little wilderness.

I must admit to being surprised at finding a mole in the middle of Tokyo! And I was very proud of Rhiannon today, hence the certificate.

Extra Aikido

Saturday 9^th June 2007

Pacific Aikido - the group who run the childrens' classes at school - have set up some Saturday sessions for those kids who wish to progress quicker through the grades.

Rhiannon is enjoying aikido so much, she insists that we sign her up for them, even though we usually prefer to keep our weekends free from school / sport related activities. But it's only for a few weeks and means Rhiannon will get her yellow belt sooner rather than later.

Who are we to curb such enthusiasm?

We drop Rhiannon off for her hour and a half session and then Tim and I wander down the delightfully named Cat Street to the nearest Starbucks. It's very pleasant for us to spend this rare grown-up time together, talking with each other without a kid interrupting or eavesdropping.

It's very easy to lose yourself in the parenthood trap and ignore each other's feelings and needs, so this short "us" time is valuable and very enjoyable.

Flowing Noodles and Taiko

Saturday 2^nd June 2007

My calendar entry for this day just says "BBQ - take food and drink". Luckily my photos reminded me more about the event.

It was held on a sunny day, held and attended by most of the families at Tim's workplace. The kids had free run of the playground, the adults had free run at the icy lager and sausages. There are a few children of Rhiannon's age so she had a fabulous time. And they are at an age where they all wear pink!

Something that I've noticed here - whenever a photo is taken of a Japanese person, the photographee holds two fingers up in a V sign - the peace version, not the other one so prevalent in the UK… It hasn't taken long for Rhiannon and the other children to pick up on this pose! Note the famous drink - Pocari Sweat! Great name, harmless taste and not too many chemicals to set Rhiannon off on one of her post additive hyper sessions.

Games had been set up for the children to play. One of which was a Japanese special called "Nagashi Somen" or "Flowing Somen". Somen are a type of noodle served cold during these hot summer months. The flowing part comes from the fun part… a thick bamboo tube is set up on a slight slant and iced water is poured down it - along with the noodles. The game is to catch the noodles with chopsticks before they fall into the drain. This isn't just a children's game, by the way, some restaurants do this and recently a new Nagashi Somen record distance was set with the tube running for 2,500 metres!

Then we were treated to an amazing Taiko performance. Drums touch a very deep part of my soul and, although I don't have the co-ordination to drum myself, I more than appreciate the beat. Drum performances of any kind always set the hairs on the back of my neck up. Sometimes they move me to tears. Weird, I know! Taiko isn't just drumming - it's an athletic performance art with stylised movements and poses. Mesmerising!

“So Many Animals”

1^st June 2007

No, this is not a post about Japanese wildlife (I'll do one of those another day!). This is the title of a song the Reception children presented at their first performance assembly. It turns out that each class (or entire year for the little ones in Reception) hold their own assembly once or twice a year.

We had to decorate a white t-shirt with some animal pictures which provided a weekend of wonderfully messy entertainment for Rhiannon (and a near nervous breakdown for Tim who is a little obsessive about cleanliness, tidiness and getting things "right".)

Not having attending one of these events before, I was intrigued to see how it was run. And I was incredibly impressed at how well the children behaved - both those in the audience and those "on stage". Mums and Dads were seated at the back of the hall, armed with various video cameras and normal cameras. Teachers lined the sides and their students were led in quietly and sat down without fuss.

After a short introduction by the head teacher, the children sung this song. I won't inflict the actual video on you, and I can't find a decent copy of the original on YouTube, but it was originally sung by Hi-5 if you are inclined to look for yourself. I can't get the darn thing out of my head now I've refreshed my memory of it, so beware!

Some kids are natural and outgoing performers. Rhiannon is not. She did pretty well though. She didn't take her eyes off the teachers prompting the movements to do, and I could see she was not entirely happy about being in front of so many people.

After the performance, the rest of the kids were led back to their class and the attending parents were allowed to grab a quick hug and a series of photos. Unfortunately, my camera wasn't really up to speed so the photos didn't come out well enough to display.

I found it strangely proud and moving to see my little girl performing, even though she obviously found it difficult. But it wasn't a tear-jerker. More an ear-jerker...

 

How to Wear a Kimono…

Wednesday 23^rd May 2007

Today, school is having its annual Japanese Day. The kids dress up as something typically Japanese and participate in various cultural activities such as Ikebana, Sho-do (Japanese calligraphy) and origami.

The note from school made comment upon the types of outfits the children could wear - presumably to get more variety and imagination. Suggestions include manga characters (I have no idea about these and no real interest to be frank), aikido Gi, and various uniforms worn by most workers in Japan.

However, a five year old girl is, of course, going to want to wear a kimono.

Rhiannon has a nice little souvenir-type of "kimono" which will do. Despite her protestations that she wants a Real Kimono, they cost a huge amount of money, so the answer is a firm "no"! I did buy some tabi - little white socks with a separate toe so they fit the zori. Zori are shoes with a wedge-type heel (shown on the left).

Geta (below right) are another type of sandal that has either a separate heel or blocks of wood at each end. The latter look impossible to walk in and are commonly worn by men in traditional clothing. I have actually seen men riding scooters wearing these!

I also bought a gold "obi". Again, this isn't the real thing but will certainly do for a small girl for what is, essentially, a fancy dress day. A real obi is the wide belt that wraps twice around the body and then tied at the back in an incredibly complex knot. Formal obi for women measure 4 metres long and 30cm wide and are made of silk brocade, often heavily embroidered. Young girls tie their obi in a butterfly bow, while older or married women use a simpler fold called a taiko because it is drum shaped. Like men's bow-ties, you can now buy pre-tied obi apparently.

Now, bearing in mind that we are in Japan, attending a school with many children of Japanese descent, I'm worried that I will not get the dress right. There are very specific rules to wearing this beautiful outfit and I am terrified about getting it wrong and offending someone. Getting properly dressed in the full regalia is extremely complicated and people can take classes on how to put on a kimono. There are also professional dressers for hire.

So I spent a LOT of time researching and reading about the subject. Absolutely fascinating!

We got up early in the morning to get Rhiannon ready. I was pretty sure she wouldn't want to wear the outfit all day. Plus running around at break time… so I made sure she had shorts and a t-shirt on underneath for the inevitable disrobing. I pinned up her flyaway hair with about 100 clips and consulted my book for the correct way to wrap the kimono… wrap the right side of the kimono over the body, then the left side wraps over the top. Right on top of left is only used to dress a corpse for burial.

So I checked and double checked. All good. Added the "obi" and tied it in a wonky bow (I've never been able to tie a nice straight bow), and put the belt of her kimono over the top of the obi. I was rather pleased with my efforts.

 

So off we went to school to be greeted by the striking sight of hundreds of little girls in colourful kimonos, looking like a rainbow of butterflies, but much louder. Such a beautiful change from their normal dull navy uniform. The boys were wearing a range of Happi coats and aikido gi, but the girls stole the day.

Then I saw my good friend Yoko and her daughter Natalie, my heart leapt into my mouth.

Oh my god! Natalie's kimono was wrapped the opposite way to Rhiannon's. Had I made a huge mistake? If anyone should know the correct way of wearing this, it would be Yoko, being pure Japanese and having studied her culture too. Yikes!!! So I asked her.

Laughing, she shrugged and said she'd always had someone dress her in kimono so hadn't taken much notice. She didn't know which way round and besides, she was running late and didn't notice.

 

I think I may have taken this a bit too seriously! But the research I did was interesting and absorbing and provided material for one of my Tokyo Tales articles.

At the end of the school day I collected a very dishevelled Rhiannon. It's already pretty hot here at this time of year, so although she was still wearing her kimono and obi, she was all disarrayed and extremely hot. She said "my tummy was too hot in the obi and I wouldn't want to wear this all the time! I couldn't run properly and my legs get tangled up".

The major highlight of her day was this:
"There's a MAN teacher in year one and he dressed up in a PINK kimono and had a pink wig too!!! He's really funny and I hope he's my teacher next year!"

 

(Note - Rhiannon attended a State school in the UK for a couple of months where there were no male teachers at all. She genuinely did not know that men could be teachers. I've spoken to other friends with children in the UK school system and they all say the same - there are few, if any, male teachers. What a sad reflection of the UK society that men no longer feel safe in a teaching environment. I fondly remember many of my male teachers - mostly for their eccentricity, sometimes for their teaching. How things have changed. And not in a good way.)

Sports Day for Reception Children

Friday 4th May 2007

Ok, so it's not called Sports day - it's known as "Race Day". No idea why.

But today I discover to my distress, that my daughter is not sporty. In her races she is more intent on gazing around her and waving at "her audience".

Tim told me off for being too competitive. Perhaps I was a little over-critical at times… I surprised myself to be honest. I'd never considered myself as competitive, but sports were the only thing I excelled at when I was at school.

In fact, I recently discovered that the high jump record I set at Okehampton Comprehensive School in 1978 still hasn't been beaten. I feel disgustingly smug about this!

Yes, that was 1978… sadly not a typo.

The kid's races just involved running up and down a tennis court and attempting to throw bean bags into a basket a few feet away. In the picture above, Rhiannon was supposed to run in and out of the poles. She forgot. Ah well, we'll work on that.

But then the parents were invited to race! Wheeeee!

Forgetting I haven't run anywhere for about 20 years or even partaken in any kind of sport for nigh on 25 years, I leapt at the chance to show off. And perhaps give Rhiannon a little persuasion to buck her ideas up when it comes to athletics… OK, I admit to being a little ashamed. Not much though!

The Parents' Race was a relay. Our team won the ladies race and I also got into the men's race somehow. No idea how.

But the wonderfully misogynistic males of the expat community made me run the last leg as I was a woman *rolls eyes*. Then the chap before me dropped the baton before handing it to me and therefore we lost. Hah! Macho guy loses.

Thankfully Tim's photos of me didn't come out - I was too fast for the camera…

Yeah, right!

The School's Spring Fair

Saturday 28th April 2007

This will be a short post as my memory of the day is buried under 3 years worth of other, more interesting, memories.

The School's annual Spring Fair was held in the compound of the British Embassy. Stalls included the cake stall, which I failed completely to contribute to, various junk stalls - read "stuff that people want to get rid of" like toys etc. There were also simple competitions for the kids such as tombolas and hook a duck.

The latter press-ganged me into helping out whereupon all the other mothers disappeared for an hour, leaving me alone with what seemed like hundreds of small children. I didn't like this. In the end, I just gave out gifts to any kid that had a go. The look on their faces if they didn't win a piece of plastic crap wasn't worth the hassle.

I spotted another mum from the same class, grabbed her to run the stall and scarpered to try and find Tim and Rhiannon. But I was distracted by a rather fascinating "outsider" stall selling table runners made from antique obi material. Beautiful items, so I treated myself to a couple.

Then I spotted a very large sheep. No, I wasn't hallucinating - I poked it to make sure. It was definately a sheep. A very large one (but I forget the breed now). Attached to it was a man who ran an organic farm somewhere near Fuji. I'm afraid I rather monopolised him for a while as I do like sheep (my best friend runs a sheep farm in Wales) and the ludicrousness of seeing a sheep in the middle of Tokyo, albeit the British Embassy, really tickled my sense of humour.

We were treated to a haunting musical interlude by some kimono-clad ladies playing traditional Japanese instruments.

Finally I found the rest of my family just in time for the raffle. The prizes were excellent, flights, hotels, really high-level stuff. We didn't win anything, of course. Just as the last ticket was drawn, a huge crash of thunder boomed out and the heavens opened.

I've never seen so many people leave so quickly.

Too late I discovered there was beer and Pimms stalls. Ah well...

The School Ball... for Children Only

29^th March 2007

What a fabulous idea! All the Reception year children are having a proper Ball this afternoon as an end of term treat. Parents are not allowed, except for a quick visit to take photos. Rhiannon tells me they have been practising dancing at school; "proper dancing - with BOYS"! From this I presume the teachers have attempted to instruct the children on how to waltz. How I wish I could be a fly on the wall.

The invitation states "Wicked Step-mothers and Step-Fathers to leave immediately. Ball starts at 5.30pm; carriages at 7.30pm"!

The theme, well considered for 5 year olds, is "Princes and Princesses". My little diva girl is so excited that she spends the entire time from returning home from school until it's time to leave getting primped and pampered. She wanted make-up, which I duly applied then rubbed most of it off before she noticed. Of course she HAD to wear her high-heeled sparkly silver shoes (bought by Tim, not my choice!)

And she gets a chance to wear her bridesmaid dress again, so that makes us both happy. I spent a lot of money having that made and there's little opportunity for her to wear it as it's too precious for standard dressing-up games.

We arrived at the school to see a long line of delightfully dressed up kids and proud mums. The school have even set out a red carpet for them to walk on, how thoughtful.

It's very easy for girls to dress up, but for boys, the challenge is somewhat more difficult. But there are so many extraordinarily resourceful and creative mums that the Princes looked fantastic. A lot of work had gone into their outfits.

A professional photographer was in place and each child had their picture taken by him before moving downstairs to the gym; sorry Ballroom.

Wow! The teachers had really pulled out all the stops and had turned it into a beautifully magical place. It was quite dark so was hard to see who else was there let alone take photos. The ceiling was decorated with streamers and fairy lights, a live band made up of some of the teachers played at one end with a bar set up at the other end. My daughter headed straight for the bar...

She completely ignored me from that point on so I was able to catch a rather scary glimpse into the future. I took some snaps to remind me that these childhood years don't last long and soon this bar-hopping, boy-chatting-up and partying will be "for real" in the not too distant future.

Before long, the order rang out that all parents were to leave. Reluctantly we drift away. I grab a quick hug from Rhiannon before she heads back to the bar and torments a boy or two on the way.

After the Ball I collect a rather dishevelled, tired and over-excited princess who had an absolutely wonderful time. She wouldn't tell me much about what they did, but she was extremely impressed with the live band because she didn't realise her favourite teachers could "do that"! I tried to find out who she danced with, but she wouldn't tell me.

Perhaps this was a good lesson for us parents too.

A School Meeting

Wednesday, 21^st March 2007

Today is a school holiday because the teachers are running a "how your child is doing" session with the class teacher. I don't remember the proper name for it.

I don't like schools. Hated it when I was there, hate them as a mother. But I have to pretend to be a grown-up once in a while so off I went at the appointed time.

Rhiannon wasn't allowed into the meeting and instead had to go to a common room on a different floor where she was supposed to play and wait patiently while I did my Mum stuff with her teacher.

Now Rhiannon is still painfully shy in many situations, doesn't like being left alone and is not enjoying school much. She's had a few run-ins with some of the children but not a lot of information is passed between school and parents. I was lucky in that one of the first things I was told (by another mum, not the school) that I MUST check the school newsletters online each week to find out what will be happening the following week.

After one particularly violent incident when Rhiannon was punched hard by a boy in her class for no reason, I had a word with her teacher. This is not encouraged at all, but hey! my kid, my right to know, thank you very much!

My complaint was brushed away with a wave of the hand, literally, and the not completely encouraging information that yes, they knew about it and to let them deal with it, don't interfere. Oh, and that particular boy "had a few problems". (As it turned out, Rhiannon stood up to him, befriended him and they became inseparable until he moved away a year later).

Anyway, back to the meeting. After peeling Rhiannon off me to leave her in the common room I made my way to the class to meet the teacher.

I was shown Rhiannon's work books and then was bluntly told that she really wasn't up to speed with anything, she was well behind all the other children and "didn't seem to be trying". I was made to feel that it was all my fault. Mind you, that is a Mum's guilt isn't it? Everything your child does is "the parents' fault".

Devastated, angry and upset, I told the teacher that considering Rhiannon hadn't been to school since mid-November last year, I thought she wasn't doing too badly. Teacher expressed amazement at this: apparently she was totally unaware of how much school Rhiannon had missed due to there not being a place for her here until January. How could she NOT be aware, when she was told this as soon as Rhiannon joined? So now this will be taken into consideration. Too little, too late.

No wonder the poor girl wasn't enjoying school; she was being made to feel incompetent by the teacher! Not only is she having to try and catch up with school work among children who have been having extra-curricular tuition too, she has to learn how to mix with a lot of children in a school which appears to have very little pastoral care.

I vowed never again to go to school report meetings; Tim can deal with them in future as he's far more mature than me when it comes to school stuff.

Yet Another Spoiled Playdate

20^th March 2007

Rhiannon has a lovely new friend in her class, Natalie. Her mum is pretty wonderful too so I've invited them both for a playdate. Well, the kids will play while Yoko and I sit and gossip! They arrived about a month ago from London, although you can guess by her name that Yoko is Japanese and her husband is American.

But two other children were suddenly thrust upon me too... by the ever-imposing M. I have no idea on the niceties of how to refuse to allow kids to come and play, especially as they were with her when she asked, but in the interests of my daughter making friends, I reluctantly agreed. She just said "Can my two come to your place today?" I know I could say no, but I'm still finding my feet here so my mouth said "yes".

I collected Yoko and the four children from school in the car. It was a very tight squeeze and the arguing started even before we reached the bottom of the hill from school.

"You're squashing me", "Move over", "I don't WANT to sit on your lap..."

Arrived home with great relief and prised the children from the car and sent them off upstairs. Peace at last.

I made tea and Yoko and I settled down to get to know each other a bit better. Our first topic of conversation was, of course, how did the other two kids end up to be invited? Natalie is extremely shy and Yoko was hoping for a quiet playdate – as was I.

Yoko has been speaking to the various Japanese mums at school and was imparting some fascinating information received from them about how peculiar Maria is and how it would be best for most people's state of mind if they just kept away from her. This I was beginning to understand; she has a way of making one feel inadequate, angry and sympathetic all at the same time.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

Puzzled, I got up to answer it. We don't really get callers here unless it's the postman and it was far too late for him.

Ohmigod! It was M in the flesh! Not only had she invited the children, she'd invited herself!

She was obviously taken aback to see Yoko and a flash of offended jealousy went across her face. Hmmm.

Reading between the lines, she didn't trust me not to let her children watch "uneducational TV" and needed to ensure Rhiannon played nicely. Grrrr.

Needless to say the playdate wasn't a great success for us adults. And one of M's children broke something very precious of Rhiannon's. But of course, M wasn't going to believe that for one minute so luckily for us all, the date was cut short.

I will not be inviting them back again anytime soon.

But I will be seeing Yoko and Natalie as much as possible.

 

To The Ballet

Sunday 18^th March 2007

Today is Mothers' Day so I was treated to a lie-in, a delicious breakfast in bed made by my lovely girl (toast and marmalade), the obligatory bunch of flowers and a pretty homemade card which I will add to my collection; I've saved them all, of course.

I wish every day was Mothers' Day...

This afternoon, we have tickets to go to a special ballet performance laid on for children at the Tokyo American Club, commonly known as TAC. TAC is a member's only club which requires a lot of money to become a member, recommendations and seconded applications, then you're put onto a waiting list. We won't be joining.

It's an impressive place though, with many function rooms, a hall with a proper stage, gymnasium, an enormous swimming pool and probably a heap of other things too. No expense spared.

To say Tim is not a ballet fan would be an understatement, but he was forced to come along as an education. We took our seats ready for the performance. Tim has a 'thing' about sitting next to strangers – he doesn't like it – so he always takes the seat on the aisle if at all possible. This time, there was just one empty seat next to him so he thought he was safe.

However, just before the ballet was about to start, a vision of utter loveliness came and sat in the spare chair next to Tim: a tall, stunningly beautiful Japanese girl with luscious long hair and wearing in a micro-mini, high boots and displaying a very plunging neckline. Generously, I offered to swap seats with him, but for some reason he was perfectly happy to stay where he was in close proximity to this total stranger! He joyfully agreed he was very pleased we'd insisted he come to the ballet.

Sadly, his pretty companion left after a while and we next saw her on the stage, introducing the ballet! She was Riyo Mori, who would become Miss Universe a couple of months later.

The ballet commenced and after it had finished, the children in the audience were called up on stage to have their photos taken with the ballerinas. Rhiannon desperately wanted to be photographed with them but seemed to lose the ability to smile due to shyness!

Arrrr, ‘ere be Pirates!

Friday 16^th March 2007

Today is Pirate Day in Rhiannon's reception year.

No, I have no idea why either, but there you go.

It's a chance for her to get dressed up and have some fun.

I managed to get a cute girly outfit from EBay – she wasn't going to go "ugly", as she put it. And I am needlework-challenged, so there was no hope of me making anything.

She happily posed for photos and insisted on taking in her sword too. I do not envy the teachers there today – she's quite handy with her sword, and even though it's plastic, it packs quite a whack.

Parking is getting to be a bit of a pain at school now: the car park is regularly full of vans as there is some work going on nearby so we have to ensure we arrive early to have any chance of getting a space. The same goes for the reverse school run too.

All reception kids have to be collected in person from a small courtyard inside the school. It's mayhem. By Year 1, we can do something called "Pass" where the child comes outside the school and you can collect and drop off at the door. I dream of this day. Roll on September!

So I take her up to her classroom as usual, admiring lots of creatively dressed "pirates", and was delighted to see that the teachers had also dressed up. All the mums were gathered at the door taking photos too.

Rhiannon immediately went in and started a swordfight with one of the lads. Hah!

I beat a hasty retreat before any tears start - child's, not mine!

In the evening, Tim stomped in demanding to know how I'd pranged the car!

I hadn't, but it's got a dent and scrape in the wing so somebody obviously clipped it in the car park and I hadn't even noticed. Ah well, it's unusual to see any car here in Tokyo without a bump.

One of those Busy Days

A slightly full diary: I've been invited to coffee at one of the school mum's homes. She has lived here for nearly 20 years so I go expecting an interesting morning.

Finding her home was an education in driving and trying to understand the GPS, but I got there in the end. Some of these streets are so narrow it defies belief that a car can actually go down them. And this narrowness is compounded by the strange habit of planting the many telegraph poles about 2 feet into the road. Her residence was in a very British looking cul-de-sac and I was puzzled to see the wall bordering her house covered in lots of black plastic padding. It transpired she was unable to manoeuvre her very large SUV in and out of the driveway without scraping it so her husband had padded the walls!

It was a nice, if rather bland coffee morning, translated as no imparted gossip or scandal. This woman has a lot of fascinating things to look at, mostly crafts she's done herself; like washi paper covered books and boxes and a particularly lovely doll all dressed in a miniature kimono, all dutifully admired.

And I found my way home again too! Then to "the office" to drop the car off for Tim. But that was a scary trip. There was one huge junction that, if I took the wrong road, I'd end up on the freeway heading off to somewhere far, far away. I had no idea where I was going: one drawback of the road system here is that there are roads underground and roads high in the air with a couple of parallel roads running at ground level. At these points, the GPS gets a bit confused as all the roads are on top of each other so you have no idea if you've taken the right one because they all merge together on the digital screen. So I shot across the massive junction and at one heart-stopping moment thought I'd gone the wrong way up a ramp. Thankfully I had taken the right road and swore to myself I'd never take that route ever again. Way too scary.

All this is because my lovely hand-carved lantern and bowl is to be delivered to work ready for him to bring home tonight, so he needs the car.

However, I forgot to tell him that it came apart into three pieces: a base, the main part and a little ball to cap it off. I also neglected to remind him that they were hewn from solid granite...

Oh dear.

It took three of them just to lift the bowl, probably giving them all hernias. Then the ball fell off the top of the lantern and chipped a little. But not too badly and I console myself that it adds to the aged character of it. Tim had to bring a friend home with him to help him carry the items around the side to the garden. I couldn't resist pretending to dither about the ultimate position of these items in my tiny space, but they both swore a lot at me so I relented quickly and made some tea.

Rhiannon has gone to for a playdate; (to the same family as mentioned here Playdate from Hell .) I'm not too happy about this as there seems to be some tension between the girls, but I need to time to work and Rhiannon really needs the companionship of kids her age in order to help her settle in and learn about peer relationships. And it was offered so I'm certainly not going to turn it down. We'll see how it transpires. However, I do send Tim to collect her as I don't want to spend more time with the mother than I absolutely have to.

I still can't put my finger on why she rubs me up the wrong way, but it appears I am not alone, from what I hear from other mums.

    

Playdate from Hell

Friday 16^th February 2007

Oh great. Tim had to go away on business in the middle of half term week. He's such a good hands-on Dad that this makes life harder for me. And I don't like that!

Still, M has invited herself and her two girls over for a playdate today, so that should ease the load a bit.

How wrong I was.

She said she'd be over just after lunch, so about 1pm. I gave the house a really good tidy up and waited. And waited. And waited...

Eventually she rolled up at nearly 4 o'clock. No phone call to explain, or was I expecting too much? Apparently they had been out buying new school books. Why they need books I didn't find out until a bit later.

The first thing M said when she sailed through the door was "Oh, I do love a messy house! It makes it look so quaint and lived in"!! [Insert many under-the-breath swear words here]

Not a great start. It got worse.

I made tea, my usual lazy way – tea bag in cup. But no, that wasn't right! She proceeded to lecture me on how I needed to use a teapot as she drinks a lot of tea and this method won't keep up with her needs... And which tea I should buy. And where to buy a teapot. I have teapots, I just don't use them much. We make a date to go to Kappabashi, "kitchenware town" where all the ceramics and all sorts of interesting things are sold. Like teapots.

Then she proceeds to look through all my things, inspecting my books and ornaments as if to check my credentials. Not a problem, I'm happy with my credentials and don't need affirmations from her. She found nothing to criticise and sat her not insubstantial frame down on the sofa.

She tells me that she's so happy to have found me, and that her daughters need a "nice English speaking girl with a good vocabulary as a friend". What an odd comment!

However, the girls didn't really get on.

Three is always a crowd with children, especially when a couple stick together like the two sisters, and one is a bossy little madam like my daughter. So there were constant interruptions by all the girls of "Muuu-uuum, this has happened", "she won't let me play", "she has broken my toy", and other bickering. Most of the time, and if I was on my own with them, this would have been dealt with in my standard way: "play nicely or come in here where I can see you", depending on how much telling off was required. But M has a rather different way of parenting in which every incident was psychologically dissected and somehow, very cleverly, the blame always seemed to lie with Rhiannon or me. It was over two years ago now, so I can't remember the specifics, just the feeling I was left with. This wasn't really apparent until after they'd all gone, so cunningly was it done.

Between information and advice upon everything under the sun, freely given by her, I discover that her kids are being what I believe is known as 'hot housed'. The girls are 5 and 6 (although there has since been talk that the ages have been misinformed in order for them to get into a higher year at school so they may be a year younger than this). Their bedtimes are no earlier 10pm because they spend their entire evenings doing various classes from ballet, violin, piano, Japanese plus a lot of extra home learning. They are never allowed to watch anything on TV that might possibly be construed as entertainment and all reading books are educational. All weekends are taken up ferrying the children around to various educational facilities and basically, life revolves around them.

Each to their own, but I don't want to be told that my way is wrong, which is what was being implied.

Once they finally left, I felt exhausted and drained. But worse, on analysing the afternoon and the various veiled remarks, I felt like the worst mum in the world! Later I felt angry that someone could make me feel like that.

My eyes are beginning to be opened to this woman now and what I see is not pleasant. I will go to Kappabashi with her and see how that transpires, because I need someone to show me around (yes, OK, I'm using her), but I will see if I can organise the next playdate, if there is one, so that I have just one child, not both.

Snow Town Yeti!

Tuesday 13^th February 2007

 
OK, I agree this is a bizarre title, but it is the name of an actual place; a snow resort at the base of Mount Fuji. http://www.yeti-resort.com/e/index.html

As it's half term, and Tim has to go away for most of the week, he's taken a day off work to take us for our first real trip in the new car. We did go to Costco at the weekend, but that's not really a trip worth blogging about again (yes, we bought more toilet paper!).

We read about Snow Town Yeti in a magazine here called Tokyo Families. This is a very useful little mag giving ideas for days out suitable for children.

Miraculously, Tim has managed to work out how to use the Japanese GPS system in the car. In fact, I don't think he's been doing much else at work this past week apart from playing with the car which has been on the premises while the paperwork was being completed. One thing that made me laugh was his utter horror when he saw the digital map flash up with numerous swastikas. Swastikas, as I'm sure many of you know, are a symbol for Buddhist temples and we have a lot of them around here; the sign was used long before the Nazis took the symbol on.

So, Snow Town Yeti has been plugged in as a destination and we are almost ready to go.

First of all though, we have to get suitably attired for it. I possess nothing remotely appropriate for playing in the snow apart from a huge duvet parka. Ski-trousers and sensible boots are not part of my wardrobe, but then I never needed them sledging as a kid so probably don't now...

Rhiannon is to be kitted out in many layers of clothes under her "zoot-suit", an all-in-one waterproof affair she's had since she was two. Way too big for her then, she's finally fitting into it perfectly. New snow boots have been purchased for her. And her red puffa jacket to match Daddy's.

There's a cute story attached to this jacket: when I was pregnant, Tim went to China on business and returned with matching red jackets for all of us, bump included. Now, I find his and hers matching clothes incredibly icky and quickly donated mine to someone else. However, the jacket he thought would perfectly fit our soon-to-be-newborn was enormous! Not having had much contact with babies, he actually thought this jacket was newborn sized... *horrifying thought*. It didn't fit her until she was four years old!

Sledges have been bought, but the shop only had two left so we'll have to take turns. I can't find an old cattle-feed bag like I used to possess in my childhood – now that was a good sledge.

And off we go.

The lady in the GPS only speaks Japanese, but is very polite and doesn't get annoyed when we make a mistake. But the pictorial map seems easy enough to follow. The toll roads are fairly straightforward too, the cost is 700 yen per gate, and each gate is manned by cheerful individuals (what a job! Amazing they can be so jolly.) Getting to the main freeway was quite tricky as the entrances are really well hidden and it took a few attempts to understand that the small green arrows meant "This way to the main road".

An aside – why are they called "Freeways" when you have to pay to go on them?

En-route, I enjoyed gazing out the window watching the world go by, experiencing a whole new side of Tokyo not yet seen. From the huge skyscrapers of Shinjuku to the smaller, more traditional buildings. Many, many highly decorated shrines and temples and fascinating little shops. Lots of opportunities for a little giggle too as this sign indicates.

After some time, Mount Fuji appears straight ahead of us. Although still far away, this mountain takes your breath away with its symmetrical beauty and suddenness of appearance. Unexpectedly looming in the distance, it's snow-capped peak beckons and even the car- driver's nightmare, Rhiannon, perks up. "Are we there yet?"

Success! We find Snow Town Yeti and have some simple fun by watching the temperature drop as the car climbs the mountain (thermometer in the car). It got to about -10°C upon arrival. My jeans are not seeming like such a good idea right now.

The car park is empty and free, but apparently this is because all the Japanese schools are not on holiday so we are lucky. Entrance is straightforward too – we aren't going skiing or hiring anything, so the price is minimal. And we're in!

The layout is a few shops selling and hiring equipment, vending machines, of course and a restaurant. Outside the restaurant are a number of fire pits which look like they will come in useful later. Steps lead down to the snow. The snow isn't 'real', but created by a snow machine. Who cares? We certainly don't! It's not plastic; it's cold and is frozen water droplets, therefore it is real snow.

The place is almost empty and we spend the next four hours having an absolute whale of a time! I love sledging!! Interestingly none of us are into skiing – me for my dodgy knees, Rhiannon because she's a scaredy cat and Tim just doesn't see the attraction. One day I'll try it, just to see, but for now I'm happy to return to my childhood and slide as fast as I can down hills on a piece of plastic.

From time to time we take a break and grab some coffee or hot chocolate from the vending machine and sit around the firepit before heading back to the slope. We had some food, but it was revolting, like a particularly bad McDonalds.

Four hours of sledging is a great exercise – I found muscles I didn't even know existed. And surprisingly didn't get too cold. It was a beautiful day, and of course, the exercise kept me toasty warm.

After a while, the snow had compacted to the perfect consistency and rather than being stopped by the small upward slope at the bottom of the run we started going up it. Rhiannon very nearly went over the edge which frightened her a little!

Around the top of the hill the snow had melted and while Tim and I drank another tin of coffee Rhiannon wandered off to a baby's playground whereupon she promptly fell over in the mud. Time to call it a day

Days like this usually end in tears for a five year old. We all slept very well that night, but trying to move the next morning was painful!

Party Girl

[Random date – before the last few posts anyway!]

Rhiannon has been invited to a birthday party. The birthday girl is the daughter of one of Tim's colleagues and a year or two older than Rhiannon, but so sweet for my girl to be included.

She is SO happy about this as you can see from her photo! A chance for my little diva to get all dressed up and mix with some new people.

Sadly, she's been finding it hard to settle in school, having missed out on so much schooling during and after our move. The level of teaching is far above that of her school in the UK so she is lagging behind significantly, despite our efforts to help at home. She's a stubborn little soul. There are also peer problems.

Even at reception age, little girls can be bitchy, which is quite shocking really. Rhiannon desperately wants to be friends with the "alpha" girl, who knows how to play a mean game: one day she's all friendly, the next she doesn't want to speak to Rhiannon. My poor girl cannot understand this at all and I find it heartbreaking to see her try desperately hard to work out why people are like this. I try to tell her to find someone else to play with, but she's set on this girl.

Another issue is the "fitting in" aspect that I guess all young children want. Many of the girls in class are of Asian origin, with dark hair and eyes. Rhiannon, being blonde and blue-eyed stands out and occasionally says she wants to look like everyone else.

Plus she's in a class with a particularly disruptive boy. And the teacher spends more time keeping this one lad in order than looking out for the other pupils. He seems to thrive on one-to-one with the teacher and knows that misbehaviour is the way to get it. Every day there is some sort of altercation to report, but even though I've tried talking with the teachers, nothing is done. Apparently, this particular boy has "known issues": on Rhiannon's first day of school he punched her in the chest, hard, for no known reason. I've spent hours advising her on how to deal with him, ending up with telling her to stand up to him, rather than run off crying to the teacher. She's very kind hearted and one day, while the lad was picking on someone else, Rhiannon stepped in and did just that – stood up to him. He backed off and some weeks later, they became firm friends, culminating in mutual playdates.

But I digress...

Perhaps this party will help her feel wanted by her sort-of peers and it's always good to have an older friend at school.

The party was held in a room above the Hard Rock Café and she had an absolutely fantastic time with games, plenty of food and the obligatory goody bag. They played bingo, which she needed help with as she's not au-fait with the game.

It's good to see Rhiannon smiling properly again.

In Praise of Buses!

Rhiannon and I are at the end of our tether with this awful school run. Going in isn't too bad. Well, it is, but at least Rhiannon is fresh at the start of the day and there aren't too many people around at that time. But the 'going-home-run' is atrocious.

One traumatic afternoon (for both of us), Rhiannon tantrummed for nearly the entire journey – a whole hour straight. She's never done this before, ever. Along with the whole change of country, culture shock, the new school, (which is more pressured than the exceedingly gentle schooling she'd experienced in the UK) it's hardly surprising the poor child is so shattered.

We have an incredibly frazzled mum and daughter at the end of each day. There's no 'happy family' for Tim to return home to at the end of his work day. He can't work out what the problem is – I am very tempted to suggest he does the school run a couple of days and see how he copes! Not well, would be my guess.

But! An end to the nightmarish school run could finally be in sight.

My gorgeous friend, Tere, has told me in great detail about the buses. I hadn't even thought of using a bus, doh! She has even gone to the trouble of obtaining a bus route map and worked out how I can get to school on the bus, which bus to catch, and even how to how to pay when getting on board.

Not only that, she told me there was a bus stop just across the road from my house! I cannot believe I hadn't noticed it and went to investigate. Sure enough, there it is! But I can't read the timetable as it's all in Japanese. I make a guess and plan a trial run. Unfortunately, there are only 2 or 3 buses every hour but it looks like the one we need is just right for getting to school on time. And the timetable appears to be fairly straightforward as long as I remember which column means weekdays and which refers to the weekend.

This could be the miracle cure to the endless waste of time that I'm spending on the school run. It's taking a minimum of four hours out of my day.

So, at the weekend, we go on adventure and take the bus to Shibuya. What a revolution!! The number 81 bus picks us up. It only costs 200 yen for any length of journey, and Rhiannon travels free of charge due to her age - she doesn't start paying until she's 6 years old. The seats have no leg room for tall gaijin, but that's not a problem for Rhiannon, of course! Then at Shibuya, we hop off and work out where to go from there. It's as easy as pie and will only be a few hundred yards walk to school, instead of a couple of miles.

What a breakthrough! I'm so happy!!

 

A Playdate

January 13^th 2007

Today is the day for our first ever playdate in Japan. We are due there at 10am.

I woke up at 11am. Oops!

In my defence... OK, no defence, I was hung-over after a late night at the bar yesterday.

So, an apologetic phone call to the mum, who was tangibly unimpressed, and the quickest dressing-and-heading-out-of-the-house-run on record. Rhiannon and I make our weary way to the station for a two-change Metro trip to Roppongi. Once out of the station we immediately become hopelessly lost in a shopping mall of labyrinthine proportions and properties.

At one point we had to venture up an escalator with a height nearing that of Fuji itself. We distracted ourselves from our slight acrophobia by admiring a colossal advertising hoarding portraying David Beckham with a cut face. This brought a lot of questions from Rhiannon who still hasn’t grasped the concept of advertising. “Who is he? How did he cut his face? Why hasn’t someone given him a plaster?” and “He is rather cute, isn’t he Mummy?” Erm, not my taste, but he’s better than thinking of how high this escalator is!

Another phone call, and the mum, whom I shall call M, talked us through the miles of bland corridors and funky sculptures and water features to the correct exit.

Thankfully, we found the apartment without much difficulty, but I’ll never make it through Roppongi Hills alone! What a complicated piece of planning, especially for someone like me who gets lost just crossing a road.

Now, usually with playdates, us mum’s tend to take to opportunity to drop the child off and beat a hasty retreat to go and indulge in some child-free time. Not this time though. I was fully expected to stay and chat with M. OK, I’ve not actually planned anything so I settled down in the hope of making a new friend.

M is a large American woman married to a quiet, slight Japanese man. Apparently gaijin woman + Japanese man is quite a rare pairing, but I haven’t worked out why. Her husband appeared bearing a tray of tea and disappeared back into the kitchen, where he stayed for the entire time I was there. Apart from his regular and soundless visits to refill the endless cups of tea, I saw nothing more of him. Was he a servant? Or didn’t he like to socialise? It was all rather odd.

Their apartment was beautifully decorated and crammed with some incredible Japanese antiques such as rare tansu, (cabinets), screens and scrolls. I imagined this was like a Real Japanese Home.

Rhiannon went off to play with the two girls and M proceeded to educate me.

Now, this is quite hard to write in retrospect as things have since changed between us, but at this particular time, I was very open to learning all I could about Japan and its beautiful culture and objets d’art.

So, I learned a lot and we organised a trip for the two of us to visit Kappabashi – AKA Kitchen Town - a wonderful sounding place where shops selling ceramics, plastic food and all kinds of fascinating kitchen stuff.

Lunchtime approached and the husband brought us both a small meal on neat trays while he served the children a different lunch in the kitchen.

From time to time, a minor argument would erupt between the kids, and one or other of them would traipse in with “Muuuu-uum, so-and-so did this...” My reaction to these common upsets was normally to listen and encourage Rhiannon to “deal with it”, but M had a very different approach which was somehow belittling to me and Rhiannon. She would set the children down and proceed to give a psychobabble lecture which always seemed to make me out to be a bad mother or, worse, to insinuate that Rhiannon was badly behaved.

It was all very subtly done however, and it wasn’t until later in our acquaintance that this became a problem. At the time, I just put it down to a culture difference, her being a much more capable mother than myself and perhaps a little showing-off to a newbie. I was also feeling very guilty about being so late for the date and the obvious disapproval she projected about my being hungover!

After many hours, I could take no more tea and information, so we left and went home.

 

 

 

Ups and Downs of the School Run

On the way to school I noticed one of the large film screens around Shibuya station showing videos of one of my favourite bands – the Red Hot Chili Peppers. As I gazed at the screen a date flashed up and I realised with elation that they were coming to perform in Tokyo! I've been trying to see this band for nigh on 20 years but have always been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Could it be possible that I finally get to see them? Oh, I LOVE my new home!

Now all I needed to do was find out how to speak Japanese and get some tickets. I decided to pass the task onto Tim who could ask his colleagues for help. I care not that he isn't a massive fan like me; we will go and see them if at all possible, and that is that.

I collect Rhiannon and we head home.

The school run is already dragging us down and Rhiannon is so tired at the end of the day that the walk to the station in Shibuya is a real chore. She insists on walking on all the building edges, up steps, down steps, around bollards and generally being a pain as all the time she insists on holding my hand which drags me around too. Then she complains about being tired and having achey legs. I'm not surprised; with all the to-ing and fro-ing she is walking ten times as far as she needs to.

She is also obsessed with all the vending machines and we have to stop at each one, of which there are many, to inspect the contents and hassle me for a drink. I counter this with a promise of something from the one nearest home as it is considered rude to drink and eat on the Metro. And so it continues as a whinging child and I enter the overcrowded Metro.

We are both completely frazzled by the time we get home, two hours after I left. There must be an easier way of doing the school run, but sadly I don't know what. Some people catch cabs, but this is an expensive option and besides, I tried this once and couldn't convey to the taxi driver where I wanted to go. But it is very tempting. Perhaps I should try and find a map.

First Day of School

 

9th January 2007

Finally! I thought this day would never come, but here we are, getting ready for Rhiannon's first day at her new school.

Considering that she left her school in the UK nearly two months ago, and really enjoyed staying at home with Mum, she's surprisingly upbeat about going. Considering that Mum has had nearly two months of daughter NOT being at school, she's incredibly upbeat about the first day of term.

The uniform arrived in good time, having been ordered from the official school outlet in America (!) and we had to purchase a small backpack, lunchbox, snack-box and water bottle the previous weekend.

However, our five-year-old fashion-diva was most unimpressed with the uniform and declared it to be "baby's clothes". She has a point.

In the UK, primary schools mostly have "grown-up" uniforms for the girls of smart dresses. Here the first two years, Reception and Year 1, wear t-shirts and tracksuit bottoms, with a logo-embroidered sweatshirt which is almost impossible for a child to take off themselves. I suppose this is in line with other countries where "school" doesn't really start until the children are in their 7th year, and everything up to then is considered kindergarten.

I don't know. I just have to force my reluctant child into the unflattering and dull navy blue outfit in time for the daunting school run.

And then we're off. Hoofing up the road to the Metro for what we already know is an appalling and long trip to the school. I just hope I can remember the way!

Luckily, I do, but once at the school I don't remember the route to Rhiannon's new classroom and it takes a couple of wrong turnings before we finally find the correct room. And that is a long walk too.

We say our goodbyes, but then Rhiannon "had a moment " and became nervous, clingy and upset before being led away "to help get some pens out" by the wonderful, compassionate and capable teaching assistant, Miss Irene.

With great relief, yet feeling a little raw emotionally, I pushed my way through the crowds of mums greeting each other after the holidays, and finally found myself outside the school with nearly 6 hours all to myself.

What to do? For the first time in weeks I only have to please myself: I don't have to take anyone else's wants, needs or feelings into account and can do precisely what I want for a few hours.

Rather than trek home, I decide to explore the area today and see if I can finally get a grip on the location of the school in relation to the rest of the area. I've spent too long being lost around here and I need to remedy that. So I started with breakfast at Starbucks in Tower Records which was the only place open at 9am.

To my surprise, I soon discovered that nothing in Tokyo (apart from Starbucks) opens before 11am. OK, a few shops open at 10am, but mostly it is 11 or even midday! Well, that's going to solve one shopaholic's problem. I won't be able to go shopping just after dropping Rhiannon off at school and, as the shops compensate by staying open late in the evenings, I won't be able to shop then either as I will be Mum again. My wallet will thank me.

Somehow, I found my way to Tokyo Hands again and was gratified to find that at least this shop was open from 10am, so spent a good proportion of the day in there.

The hours went very quickly and I was soon back at the school ready for pick-up time and the long walk and ride home. Rhiannon had had a great day and, although tired, was happy to go back again, thank goodness!

IT'S CHRIIIISTMAASSSSSS!!!

Our first Christmas in Tokyo started early, as can be expected with an over-excited 5 year old.

But not with the happy sounds one would normally hear. Rhiannon marched into our room at 5.30am, crying her eyes out!

Between her sobbing she cried "Santa hasn't been to see me and I have been good, mostly". 

Bless her, she was so bleary that she'd stepped right over her stocking without noticing it. So I took her back to her room to "see if Santa had hidden it" (rather amazed I was on the ball at that time in the morning...)

Cue one very happy child!

After breakfast, the doorbell rang. We'd forgotten that it was a normal working day here, and the postman was delivering. Along with a number of Christmas cards, he brought a large and heavy parcel from Tim.

How wonderful! He'd got me a breadmaker!! Now, this isn't normally something I would get happy about receiving for Christmas, and ordinarily would contribute to considering divorce proceedings. But bread here tastes horrible and costs around £3 for half a dozen slices, so it was a welcome gift.

This was a well-travelled breadmaker apparently. It was ordered from the States as the electricity here is only 100V rather than the 240V in the UK (which is why I hadn't shipped mine from there). American electrical goods work here, whereas UK machines need a huge, clumsy transformer. But I digress: the breadmaker had travelled to Jamaica (a computer operator error, I guess, as Jamaica is just above Japan on the standard list of countries), then back to Kentucky and then up the coast to Alaska where it got stuck in a snowstorm. But fortuitously arrived on Christmas Day.

Lunch was a success. Apart from the lack of Christmas pudding and the fact that the mysterious "cakes" I'd brought were completely disgusting! I think they were made from rice and contained red-bean paste. An acquired taste, that none of us will acquire any time soon.

Standard after-lunch constitutional around the gardens again, then for more exploring up the little alleyways surrounding our house. We discovered a tiny shrine not far away, which is very picturesque.

What a lovely day, wonderful gifts, lovely family and no miserable British weather. In the evening, once Rhiannon had finally been packed off to bed, we were able to relax with a good film and no boring BBC TV repeats.

Heaven!

Backtracking a little...

This is the drawback of not keeping a diary! I've forgotten to include details of our luggage arriving a couple of days before Mum reached Tokyo... so...

 

Finally! Our main shipment of luggage has been released from customs and a large red lorry arrived one fine morning. Something to keep us occupied at last.

With extreme efficiency and skill, the driver somehow reversed the lorry up our tiny road and a gang of men managed to unload what seemed to be hundreds of boxes in record time.

Even though they offered to unpack everything, I preferred to do this myself. So they just put the boxes in the relevant rooms and left me to get on with it. I set Rhiannon to task to unpack her million soft toys while I hurried through the remaining boxes to find the Christmas gifts while I had the chance to hide them.

Much joy was experienced when I discovered our box of necessities like tea and biscuits. As I mentioned previously, it's amazing how something so mundane becomes exciting.

I didn't disctract myself for too long in this box, but it was a little like Christmas already. However, most of the time I thought to myself "why on earth did we think it was important to bring this?"

This is something that commonly occurs when you've lived without the 'normal' home-comforts for a while. You become used to living a minimalist life, so when suddenly all sorts of extra items arrive, however familar and missed they are, you feel overwhelmed with possessions. 

Priorities change, but it's all here now and we can't send it back.

Rhiannon is completely over the moon with her re-discovery of much missed toys, so I guess that makes it all worthwhile.

18th December 2006 or thereabouts...

Grumpiness...

Oh, I can’t wait for school to start! Rhiannon is becoming stir crazy and driving me up the wall. She doesn’t like walking anywhere (can't say I blame her there, to be honest!); she doesn’t want to do this or that, just stay in playing PC games, watching TV or worse, playing Barbies’! Of course, with Mum here, I am obliged to show her the sights, and, with Tim at work, this means my whinging daughter has to come too. Counting the days to the start of the school term in January...

In emails to friends, my words were “She is being a right royal pain in the ass”, so, even though I cannot remember exactly what she was doing, she was obviously being rather annoying.

I can’t even escape to the PC in the evenings as Tim’s on there all night while I entertain Mum until she finally goes to bed at midnight. Whatever happened to her jetlag?

Still, Mum’s been wonderful – her stamina is as incredible as usual and I end up totally exhausted after traipsing around showing her the few places we've  discovered so far. We went to Tokyo Hands a couple of times, where Mum was in her element with all the craft stuff. I also bought a few more Christmas decorations to show willing: I'm a bit "Bah, Humbug!" about Christmas.

And she kindly bought me a whole load of houseplants so I'm finally beginning to feel that this house is home now. Getting them back was interesting on the Metro and we had to have one large tree delivered. I’m still not entirely sure how I managed to do that with no Japanese language skills at all. But sure enough, it arrived later that day - how wonderful!

At this point I still had no idea what we are going to have for Christmas dinner! None of us fancied the epic trek to Nissin, and the local supermarket doesn’t stock any meat larger than a chicken leg.

Then, a revelation! On one of our exploratory trips around Shibuya, we discovered that the department stores have food halls in their basements! Usually running over 2 floors, with one floor housing a supermarket while the other has all kinds of unusual and tasty looking ready meals.

The supermarket we found was like Harrods Food Hall on steroids. It had the most amazing items on sale and we managed to find, of all things, Marmite!

Meat is still extremely expensive but we did find a nice big chicken, so that’s what we will be having for Christmas Day. It was the only recognisable and affordable thing. Half a kilo of stewing steak was £20... so I'd better make sure I make THE most fabulous stew! Luckily we don't like turkey, anyway.

 

We spent more time gazing at the unusual foods on display than actual shopping. Some of the fish was incredible and the veggies totally mindblowing in their unusualness. And as for the mushrooms... well, they look like the things Mum always said not to eat in her garden because they're poisonous.

 

 

A giant fish-head gazing up at us through its dead eyes made us jump. I guess it was a tuna but the size just blew me away – easily the size of two human adult heads. There was also a slice of fish that cost approximately £500 for something the size of a lamb chop. Again, I have no idea what it was, but the price was seriously impressive.

Also incredible were the number and size of “gift fruit” – melons the size of footballs selling for £100. Apples twice the size of the ones we’re used to in Britain for £10 each and luscious peaches of similar proportions and prices. Each were lovingly wrapped and presented.

We bought the “ordinary” ones.

Sadly we were unable to find a Christmas Pudding, so we will forgo that tradition this year, and instead buy a typically Japanese Christmas Cake instead. A beautiful (yet very un-Christmassy) confection of cream, sponge and strawberries.

 

We've also got blue crisps (!) and something completely unknown as an experiment. I don't know whether it's sweet or savoury so that should be fun. They are little pink cakey looking items, tastefully decorated.

I feel slightly more relaxed now that I know what we are going to eat for our first Christmas dinner in Japan.

 

17 Days into our New Life

10^th December 2006 and a few days after that...

 We've had to borrow someone's laptop as all our urgent stuff still hasn't arrived. Hopefully it shouldn't be much longer before I get my proper PC up and running and I can get back in touch with my online world of work. And of course, all the Winter clothes and Christmas presents, so carefully bought and concealed, are still not here.

We've now been in Tokyo for 17days and it already feels just like home in some ways. We've been out and about every day, just wandering around to get our bearings, so now we feel that we've got some kind of idea where we are in relation to everwhere. Travel is easy by Metro, but finding a particular address or store is nigh on impossible. Luckily people are very kind and helpful, and will approach a lost looking gaijin to assist. One young man even walked with us to the shop we were looking for, It is very easy to get lost, with streets wandering off in all directions.

Raymi is moping around constantly looking for his brother. It tugs on the heartstrings to see him looking so forlorn. And quite strange as they never really seemed to be that close. Raymi doesn't miaow, he just squeaks occassionally, but he's developed an endearing "chirrup" whenever he sees me, as if to say "Hello, you're still here. That's good. But where's Inti?"

  

It has suddenly struck me that it’s nearly Christmas! Help!!

Mum will be arriving from the UK soon and there are still boxes piled up all around. I have no presents. I have no idea what we will have for Christmas dinner. In fact, I have very little idea on anything very much.

What a bit of luck that Rhiannon has a couple of inset mornings at school planned. We’ve tried the public transport school run several times but it takes so long, the prospect seems pretty daunting. However, we bravely set out and, thanks to Tim’s comprehensive map of Shibuya station, we make it to school pretty much on time. She’s only there for the morning as her class is practising for the Xmas concert.

It hardly seems worth me trekking all the way back home again, so I take myself off for a little exploring session.

I found the most useful store for souvenirs – Oriental Bazaar – and stocked up an a ridiculous number of items for presents, just in case our luggage doesn't arrive in time.

When I picked Rhiannon up at lunchtime, she happily presented me with a box of freshly made peppermint creams packaged in a little box she’d made and decorated herself. All this in one morning at her new school. That’s more than she achieved in an entire term at the school in England!

Tomorrow, we are invited to the school’s Christmas Concert to be held in a “real” theatre”!

Back home, I make progress on the unpacking and life is shaping up nicely. Only another twenty boxes to go!!

 

How a Child Copes with Becoming an Expat

It’s all a big change for a small child - moving to a completely different country - yet Rhiannon is coping brilliantly on the whole.

Apart from a few moments when she becomes overwhelmed missing her friends in the UK, she has settled into her new life remarkably well. She has had a lot of time off school though. She left her first school in the UK early in November and a place won't be available here until January, so this means we are spending a lot of time together. Maybe this is helping her get used to the whole new life ahead of her.

However, I am very much looking forward to being able to visit the shops on my own when she has her two acclimatisation days at school... I need some 'me time'!

Overall, Rhiannon has taken to city life like a duck to water; she hops on and off the Metro like a seasoned commuter and isn’t fazed by the crowds and noise at all, which is quite surprising as she hated loud noises in the UK.

One difficulty we’ve encountered is the incredibly dry air in Tokyo at this time of year, which is compounded by our hot air heating system. Two problems this has caused are flyaway hair (Rhiannon) and a huge static build-up (me).

Rhiannon’s long, fine hair is completely unmanageable and the cat won’t come near me due to the sharp shock he receives through his nose on contact. A friend kindly suggested I fit an earthing strip to either myself or the cat!

As this wasn’t entirely practical, and Rhiannon won’t allow her hair to be cut, we bought some humidifiers which helped not a jot. I guess we’ll get used to it.

Unfortunately, the dryness also proved too much for Rhiannon’s delicate nasal membranes and the poor girl succumbed to frequent severe nosebleeds which upset her considerably. Her nosebleeds occur almost every night around 3am. Mercifully, we eventually found a remedy; she rubs Vaseline in her nostrils each night and this has solved the problem.

Another predicament is Rhiannon’s fear of the ‘shower toilets’ found in most stores. She was startled by her first experience in one when an automatic ‘running water’ sound turned on automatically, and is absolutely terrified by the wires and buttons attached to the seat. Logic will not prevail in this case. She is just about OK with the heated seats, but would much rather use the Japanese style facilities.

Something to keep working on!

 

Life goes on

To keep ourselves occupied, Rhiannon and I visit the school she’ll be attending from January. This involves a walk to the Metro, two trains and then the impossible task of trying to find the right exit at Shibuya Station, probably the most complicated station on the planet.

There are several floors, not escalators or lifts and numerous exits. Not one of them is marked in English and they all lead to radically different parts of this hectic and complicated area.

Once outside, you are greeted by an incredible number of people crossing a massive interchange striped with many pedestrian crossings at angles to the road.

This YouTube video gives you an idea of what it’s like http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=ThaPhSf67Ds

It took us twenty five minutes to get from home to Shibuya and a further hour and a half to find the school! We spent a very long time being lost. Needless to say, neither of us took in much information about the school, but Rhiannon does have the opportunity to join her class for a couple of mornings later this week. We are also invited to the school’s Christmas Show.

The following day we tried again, using a different station. This time it only took us an hour to find the school. Oh dear.

The thought of this school run twice a day is daunting and depressing. So Tim went out one evening and drew us a beautifully precise map of how to get out and where to go.

It would become my lifeline for some weeks until I got to grips with the route.

 

Last Week of November – roughly!

Tim has gone away on business and our luggage still hasn’t arrived! We know that it reached Japan on 31^st October, so it’s just being held up in customs.

What is slightly worrying is that I am beginning to like not having loads of stuff around and, although I do miss my books, I could easily live in this minimalist way. For those of you who actually know me, you will find this extremely hard to believe. Rest assured, I am back to my normal, cluttered self!

Rhiannon has been playing computer games (educational, of course!) and hasn’t missed TV at all. But she is anxious about her toys, "I hope nobody plays with my toys before they get delivered to me", she frets.

She hasn’t got a place in school until the new term starts in January so we are able to spend some time together exploring and so on. It’s hard to know where to go when we don’t actually have anyone who can show us. Tim is busy settling into work and we don’t know any other families with children.

Rhiannon’s school in the UK kindly gave us some workbooks so my intention was to do some home tuition in the meantime. So we have been playing “schools”, but she doesn’t understand quite grasp the intention and wants to be the teacher while I play the child.

Instead, we spend a lot of time searching for food. Me = hunter-gatherer!

The supermarket is within walking distance, but not quite close enough to make it easy to carry enough shopping for more than a couple of days. But Rhiannon and I do enjoy looking at the wares even if we have no idea what they are or how to eat them.  I'm sure I've seen krill in packets and some small white worms, with eyes! These are the same things we have found in the cat food… Oddly, none of the cat food contains meat – just fish. I was under the impression that cats HAD to have meat. Anyway, Inti and Raymi aren’t too impressed, but they’ll eat when they are hungry enough.

We have also found "Asparagus Biscuits", hmmm, and various green items that appear to be green tea flavoured. Not very appetising.

No 'real' meat (that's affordable) and many things that look like bits of an animal us Westerners just don't recognise anymore. And as for the mushrooms! My word, I never knew there were so many edible types. I am sure some of them are the things my mother said never to touch!

All the food we like is expensive; for example, a loaf of sliced bread (the only type available) costs about £3 for 8 slices! So I have ordered a breadmaker from the States. I couldn't bring any electronic goods with me as the voltage here is just 100V so nothing would work without a transformer. Also saw a slice of fish, about the size of a small beef steak. It was the equivalent of £75! Wow!!

I've even taken to haunting expat food websites and for a while I was actually believing it might be nice to spend £60 to have some teabags sent to me!

Even though there are lots of Christmas lights up and trees twinkling with fairy lights everywhere, Christmas isn't celebrated here and the day itself is a normal working day. Piped Christmas Carols entertain us in the stores but they are 'poppy' rather than choral.

One of our frequent expeditions is to find Christmas decorations and general bits and pieces. I was terribly organised and sent my cards before we left the UK and also bought Rhiannon's gifts - which haven't arrived yet... But we need a tree and some extra decorations.

We've also been doing a lot of walking. I cannot believe just how many stairs there are in the Metro stations and some of the distances to walk between changes are incredible. The Japanese must be very fit. I am just exhausted.

A lot of this is to do with getting very lost most of the time, but we always get home eventually.