Japanory

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.

    

Delusions of Nigella...

March 2007

I wish I could be one of those wonderful people who can happily throw a perfect meal together, look glamorous and entertain like a "grown-up". Like Nigella Lawson.

In my head, I can do it, but in real life, I just find it an appalling trial. I'm not a natural socialite and cooking just doesn't work out the way it should: but I blame this cooker which only seems to cook from the bottom up. Stuff burns on the base before the top is cooked.

Anyway, so many people have been lovely to us since our arrival, inviting us out, showing us around and entertaining us that I decide that we will have a "do" at our house.

I sent invites to loads of people, expecting about two thirds to come, but they ALL say yes! Panic immediately sets in. I try to calm myself by planning exactly what I will serve and write a shopping list. It bodes well that I actually remember to take this list to the shop, as I usually leave it behind.

Realising I didn't have enough crockery I made a quick dash to Oriental Bazaar and bought some attractive, cheap, yet beautiful dishes and plates.

Planning and preparing the menu was my personal nightmare, but for once it all went well. Some items I created in advance and froze while some I had to make in the morning. By some miracle, it all worked out well with no disasters! It would be tempting fate to repeat this. Besides, I do find it all very stressful.

For once my edible offerings were fit for human consumption! Homemade breadsticks – about 200 of them as it turned out (I sent people home with them at the end of the afternoon!), teeny savoury scones, smoked salmon and bagels, dips and chips. And the strawberries dipped in chocolate were a massive hit; so easy to do but they used up a lot of precious chocolate.

There were so many people that most had to sit on the floor or stand around the table. Everyone very kindly bought gifts – a fabulous tradition here: the first time you go to someone's house, you take a little gift. I got lots of bottles of wine, bunches of flowers and potted orchids. How delightful!

People came with children and babies. Rhiannon was in her element with a handsome older boy to play with. He's an absolute charmer and is very good with the little ones. I played with the newborns and my stress levels dropped away. I had a lovely time talking to well-travelled, intellectual people.

But I still don't think I'll do another one for some considerable time. And I am certainly no Nigella.

Time to Breathe

March 2007

Life is settling down into a routine now.

School run is a breeze now I have the car so I manage to get home at about 9.15am. Then I sit in front of the PC until it's time to go back to school at around 2.30pm.

Things I do while sitting in front of the computer:

• Listen to BBC Radio through the PC. This is quite weird as I use their "Listen Again" option so often hear news that happened several days ago. I do like it though as it keeps me in the loop of UK news and current affairs.
• Check email: I have 2 personal accounts and a business account. Reply as necessary.
• Make a cup of tea.
• Check my work forum: this takes a little time as due to the time difference everyone has posted stuff while I was asleep so there's quite a bit to catch up on. I add my comments, help and assist as much as possible. Unfortunately, my priorities have changed now and, as I no longer run my own magazine I am beginning to feel I don't belong here. I work for them behind the scenes, but can't contribute much to the work-related threads on the forum. Also, it's not really the place for personal chit-chat.
• Look at the news sites to see what's happening in the world.
• Make another cuppa.
• Look at the USGS website to see if there were any earthquakes I slept through. They have an option to complete a form if you felt one, so I always do this when I can.
• Look at the weather forecast.
• Repeat most of the above in case I've missed anything... did I tell you I am the Queen of Procrastination?!
• Then I settle down to work.

I'm scheduled to write the Tokyo Tales articles on a regular basis so I make a list of subjects and copy some emails and forum posts to help me remember things. [Now I'm writing this blog I'm so glad I kept these notes. I'm still more than two years behind and have no idea if I'll ever catch up.]

I also do quite a lot of the administration required for this work website so sometimes I dedicate the entire day to this as it's one of those jobs that have to be done in one go otherwise I'll lose track of where I am, archiving and so on. The software running the site is clunky but easy to use as long as I concentrate hard.

However, while I was in the UK, a nice part of my day was to phone various stay-at-home friends while the kids were at school. We would have a nice gossip in peace without the children interrupting or other-halves overhearing. Sadly, I can't do this anymore and I really miss it.

I can phone people in my evening, which is morning in the UK, but this takes up my evening when I should be spending it with Tim. During my day, it's the early hours of the morning in Britain and I know of no friends of mine that would appreciate receiving a call from me just to chat at this time.

So, I feel a bit lonely.

And March is always a hard time emotionally for me. Until now, being so busy has alleviated the depression, but now it hits with a vengeance.

Basically, from 1^st February to 16^th March is my "downtime" – it was on 1^st February 2004 that Dad had a massive stroke and turned our lives upside-down and 16^th March 2004 when death finally released him from the prison his brain had put him in.

It was the worst six weeks of my life. And sadly, these six weeks replay themselves each year.

Then one day I stumbled across a website that I consider to be a lifesaver. It's a forum where I can chat with lots of lovely mums, mostly from the UK, but some are in the US or Australia / New Zealand. Many are insomniacs so are online when my day starts. It's a place where advice can be sought and answered with amazing insight, the general chit-chat is fabulous and drama, support and venting of problems large or small is considered beneficial. I joined immediately and soon felt part of a caring cyberfamily.

The website? The Bad Mother's Club www.badmothersclub.co.uk/jsp/index.jsp?lnk=308

Thank you Badmums!

The founder of the site, Stephanie Calman has written these books which are highly entertaining.

Work, Work, and Driving for the First Time

20^th February to 23^rd February 2007

Four whole days of work. And I promised I wouldn't go on about this any more, so I won't.

Organising the school run and child care was tricky, but with the help of some well planned playdates at other peoples' homes, and help from Tim, all went smoothly.

Tim drove us both to the school for the morning drop-off and then continued with me to the office. On the day's I finished early, I would catch the train to school, which is a through run from the office, collect Rhiannon and catch the bus from Shibuya home. On days when this wouldn't work, I was lucky enough to manipulate Rhiannon into a playdate where Tim would collect her later in the evening. Perfectly civilised!

But Tim is going away on business next week, so I have to grab the car by the bull horns and drive it sometime. This I do on a day when I only have a half day course scheduled.

 

 

My First Driving Experience

One thing in my favour is that in Japan the driving is done on the correct side of the road! They drive on the left, the same as in Britain. All the signs seem similar, so I gathered my courage and set off on an exploratory drive around before heading off to the school. Tim showed me how to use the GPS – press this button, select that one and then press this one – all written in Kanji, so I just have to remember the positions. Far left, 2^nd from bottom right, centre, then far left again.

Nervously, I crawled out of the gates at work, turned left onto a really busy road as instructed by Tim, then left again as instructed on the map... and promptly got lost in the maze of tiny streets! Thankfully, the lady in the GPS got me back on track; track being a huge eight-laned road.

From the sublime to the ridiculous.

The roads here seem to be either very wide and multi-laned or extremely narrow. The narrow, single car-width roads are quaint and fascinating but dreadful to drive along due to the curious positioning of telegraph poles which for reasons unknown are placed at least two feet out from the house walls. These narrow roads are often two-way roads as well, which is quite frankly scary. Combined with people aimlessly ambling along the centre of the road, oblivious to the vehicle behind them driven by a terrified and lost gaijin because they are plugged into their personal stereo, this all makes for, shall we say, an "interesting experience".

It also appears that pedestrians have right of way. What an unusual rule! Correctly so, in my opinion, but a bit of a shock to start with. All pedestrian crossings seem to be located on large junctions, so when turning left, you are suddenly confronted by a sea of people making their casual way across while you wait. Now something makes sense. Nobody crosses the road here unless the 'green man' light is on. Even if there is no car within 2 miles, you wait until the green man says go... Also, nobody 'jaywalks'.

This is all very different from traversing the roads in Britain where you learn to judge a vehicles speed, distance and your chance of survival very quickly as a pedestrian.

Also, to my utter joy, I discovered there do not appear to be roundabouts here in Tokyo! I loathe roundabouts and harbour evil thoughts to the people who invented them, most especially the ones with several lanes and more exits than Shibuya station. Woe betide you if you find yourself in the wrong lane for your exit on one of these monsters; you could be circling for hours without escape. And I don't believe they help the flow of traffic at all.

Instead of roundabouts, Tokyo is littered with traffic lights instead. Every hundred metres or so... and that is not an exaggeration.

I don't mind traffic lights: you know where you are with them. Red means stop, green means go. Easy. However, orange seems to have a slightly different meaning to the one we're used to in the UK. Here, amber seems to imply "if you think you can get through before the light turns red, then go for it – and even if you don't, go for it anyway!".

Anyway, I survived my first drive! I managed to find my way home with just a slight detour then back to school again.

Next I had to negotiate the car park. Once again, most car parks have a different system to the UK and it is one that WORKS. It used to be like this in Britain, but things changed. Here, you pull a ticket from the machine on the way in to lift up the barrier then pay on your way out based on how long you were parked there. No "Pay and Display"!

This ridiculous system used in Britain means you have to guess how long your shopping trip will take before paying for the ticket. As any shopaholic / mum / living human knows, you just cannot gauge how long an expedition will take as too many random factors come into play. What if you get distracted by the special offers? How about those times when your toddler needs to use the toilet just as the time for your ticket runs out? And let's not even mention the queues at the supermarket...

Unfortunately, the car park is closely packed and full of people carriers. Negotiating your way into a parking space is quite tricky and reversing in seems to be the norm. Something I'm not ready to attempt just yet! A cute addition is the inclusion of small 'stop' bumps – short barriers to stop your wheels just before you hit the car parked in the adjacent parking place.

Now I understand why every car in Tokyo sports a few small bumps or scratches somewhere on its bodywork. I wonder how long ours will remain bump-free?

A Day Just for Me

 

Monday 19th February 2007

With Tim taking full charge of Rhiannon today, I can treat myself to a "Me Day". Bliss!

To start, I will be going to a lesson at the Tokyo Union Church. The part that runs the classes is called the Tokyo Union Church Women's' Society - TUCWS. Their range of courses is incredible and I hope to attend many more, time allowing.

The course I am attending today is all about Japanese Gardens. I'm hoping to learn just how to create one, the meaning and history behind them and most importantly, where to buy the goodies that contribute to them, like plants, rocks and gravel. I'm still awaiting delivery of my lovely lantern and bowl and have read that they need to be placed just so, I'm eager to discover why.

It was held in the kitchen, which was strange, and led by a gentle Japanese lady and attended by about half a dozen other ladies, all American. However, the class didn't delve into the whys, wherefores and how's but was more geared towards a series of poorly photocopied handouts showing where to go and visit the most famous of them. A lot of time was spent telling us how to get to them using public transport, which bus to use and where to disembark.

I was rather disappointed but learned a little bit, but still no nearer finding out where to find a garden centre.

 

 

After this, I had a hair appointment at one of the only hair salons in Tokyo that cater for Westerners - "Sin Den". Just a cut today, but will book up for a colour soon. My hair at this time is brown with a cerise fringe and sides. I had it done before leaving the UK in the hope that it would dissuade the Embassy from trying to employ me... it didn't exactly work, did it?!

Armed with a map, I discovered the hair salon was within walking distance of the church, so I wandered down some tiny and confusing streets but still couldn't find it. So I called them and they talked me in.

Lovely place, all lush and decorated in black. The hair washing stations had beds rather than chairs, but don't quite fit me and my legs stuck out from the knees down. Good haircut, so will return.

Then to head home, I decided to walk as it was such a lovely day and I was fairly sure that it wasn't too far away. I discovered that once on the main road, it was about a half hour walk to get home. It was fascinating to see some of the shops and buildings. One in particular caught my attention: a magnificent florists with some enormous and very expensive plants on sale. One instalment was particularly beautiful, a deep red bowl, about a metre in diameter and filled with water. The water was covered with duckweed, a pest in British ponds, but used to great artistic effect in this case.

A nice "Me Day". Back to school tomorrow for Rhiannon and a full week of work for me.

 

Short and Sweet

Saturday 17^th February 2007

Tim's not due back until this evening yet we have been invited to a "meet the baby" do at one of his colleague's homes. Although I feel a bit awkward visiting someone I haven't yet met, I force myself in order to gain quality of life by meeting new people.

Luckily, their home is within walking distance, a couple of blocks away so Rhiannon and I head off. She takes the opportunity to ride her bike, which does little for my nerves.

We ended up having a lovely afternoon, meeting a gorgeous new baby girl, her parents and other lovely couples and individuals. Lovely food, great music and interesting conversation with intelligent people.

What a relief after yesterday!

Tim's arrival home was greeted with much joy by Rhiannon and relief by me.

He's taking Monday off in lieu so I can go to my very first class at the church. (Still find that a hard sentence to write. Me, going to a church! Hah!!)

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.

To Drive or Not to Drive...?

We finally have the car. Hurray! Just in time for the half term holidays coming up.

But I'm too terrified to drive in Tokyo just now, so Tim uses it to get to work while Rhiannon and I take the bus as it is so easy.

Why am I terrified? Well, I learnt to drive in Devon, many, many years ago. Lovely, gentle Devon where there is little traffic to negotiate, tiny single-track lanes lined with soft grassy hedges and easy, simple roads with no roundabouts. I am a dab-hand at reversing quickly and adeptly to a passing place; I can wait patiently while a herd of cows or flock of sheep bustle past me; emergency braking when confronted with a combine harvester on a blind corner is no problem and passing tractors on a bend road was a risk I was willing to take.

And then I moved to London. This was in 1988, just as the "hot-hatch" problem arose (I had an XR2 at the time). From costing around £300 to insure in Devon, the cost suddenly shot up to astronomical regions. And that was with the only two insurance companies willing to quote for someone under the age of 25. Insuring it would have cost more than the car was worth, so I reluctantly sold it (for more than I paid for it, hee hee!) and went onto permanent public transport for the next 12 years.

I lived next to two train stations so it wasn't a problem. Well, that's a misnomer as we're talking about London public transport, but I'm sure you know what I mean.

Then I met Tim, and moved to Northampton where I was forced back into driving again as I had to get from home to the train station, 7 miles away, usually at 6am, for my commute to London. My nerve deserted me and I found I was really scared of driving! How ridiculous. In my defence, the area was littered with far too many roundabouts than are necessary or healthy, and filter lanes which I had never used before. Plus I have no sense of direction and can get lost just crossing a road.

Tim bought me a GPS / SatNav system which helped me no end. But it took a long time for me to feel comfortable driving again.

So Tokyo's notorious traffic, multi-laned roads and complicated road signs are somewhat daunting to me at the moment.

I will overcome, of course.

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.

We Have Wheels!

Unbounded joy! Tim has found us a car!!

Second-hand cars here are very cheap compared to the UK and we never buy new anyway. And we also don't follow the crowd of other expats who buy the biggest people carriers they can find then wonder why they can't negotiate the tiny streets without dinging the bodywork. However, they do have some fancy gadgets in them including a rear-view camera with alarms that go off when they reverse too close to something.

So, we will soon have a little pale-gold coloured Toyota. The British name for it is the Corolla Verso while here it's known as a Spacio.

Happy, happy, happy!

There is the small matter of a large pile of paperwork first, so that has been completely delegated to Tim to deal with. All the driving licence stuff has been completed as you will have seen from a previous post.

To own a car in Japan you also have to prove you have a parking space! What a brilliant idea – something for the UK to think about, in my opinion.

Transfer of ownership forms have to be completed for used cars, mandatory and optional insurance bought, and the number plate to be re-registered in our name. The optional insurance is actually compulsory if you want full coverage. Nice little ploy.

Luckily, being diplomats, we are exempt from car tax and the compulsory shaken, Japan's version of the MOT. Pronounced 'shah-ken' (which is a shame, as the spelling pronounced in English is more apt) this is a very expensive and compulsory inspection; which is why most people don't buy second-hand cars, preferring instead to get a new vehicle every couple of years. I believe a shaken costs around £1200-£1500!

Further driving costs are toll roads, which can add quite a considerable outlay to your journey, but petrol is really cheap. At the time (early 2007) the cost of a litre of fuel was about .50p. Plus we get this duty free due to our diplomatic status. We are indeed privileged.

Sorry to all readers in the UK who have to pay exorbitant rates for your petrol.

Hopefully none of this will take too long and we can get out and explore Japan

A Homes and Gardens Interlude

Before I start back on the "rack-my-brains-for-memories-and-guess-the-date-in-the-diary" posts, I thought I'd show you my little garden.

When requesting a home here, we really didn't want to live in an apartment, mainly due to having the cats (now singular, after sadly losing Inti shortly after our arrival). I'd lived in flat for far too many years when in London and really wanted my own front door and direct access to the outside world without going downstairs.

We didn't want to live on the Embassy compound as I felt that Tim would never be free from work. By living away, people would think twice before calling on his services. Also, as I work from home, I need my solitude. Actually, I LIKE solitude and this house fits the bill perfectly.

I also love gardening, and had dreams of cultivating a green space to indulge in. Failing that, I thought I might try my hand at creating a Zen garden. Somewhere to sit in the sun.

Anyway, we struck gold when this house unexpectedly came up for rent: the previous occupants had left earlier than expected, and the landlord was so keen to keep British people in it that he lowered the rent to within our limits.

Our house in England would fit into the front room; the space here is amazing and puts paid to all the belief about miniature homes here in Tokyo. I don't deny they exist as I've seen them, but there are a surprising number of enormous houses and apartments to be found too.

I cannot stand the decor though: beige, taupe and green. Not much I can do about that, just going to cover it all up with bookshelves, pictures and the like.

We are also conveniently situated up a little cul-de-sac, so Rhiannon is free to practise riding her bicycle outside without fear of traffic accidents. Within a few weeks of us arriving, she'd mastered riding without stabilisers! Shame the same cannot be said about her mother...

About two blocks away is a very busy main road, so I was very wary about letting the cat out. However, I took the nervous plunge and let him go out through our French doors. Most pet cats here never go outside, but it would be cruel to make Raymi become in indoor cat after enjoying his first couple of years exploring the outside world.

The garden is tiny, but backs onto our landlord's garden which is huge and beautifully laid out. Beyond that is a deep gully, which I think was an original water or irrigation way some centuries ago. After that, is Shinjuku-gyoen garden.

So, as long as Raymi goes that way, he's safe from traffic. [Two years on, he's proved he has no interest in going further than the first block of houses, so you don't need to worry about some horrible event coming up while I catch up with this blog! Hope I haven't jinxed this subject now!!] He stayed close to home for the first few ventures outside, and I trained him to come in by rattling a box of treats, then rewarding him for coming when called. I've also trained him to sit before having a treat.

As I said, the garden is minute, but contains 3 trees: one evergreen something, one deciduous dogwood and a ratty little conifer. An old, rusty windchime has embedded into one of the tree branches and the chime fell off when Rhiannon touched it.

There are also two plastic troughs containing a wisteria and an unidentified plant that has small white flowers. The wisteria has never flowered. Bulbs also push their way through the mass of roots in the troughs, but add little to the aesthetics of the garden. I will leave them though.

Sharp, coarse gravel covers the "walking" area and a few smooth pebbles cover the miniscule "garden" which is delineated by larger pebbles. I made the garden area a little bigger by moving the big pebbles.

Also we discovered an extremely rusty barbecue, a wooden box to keep tools in - I found a small green trowel - and some discarded potplants. One was an orchid so I brought that inside and managed to coax a flower from it before it died.

Mum is a fervent gardener, so tried to get me to buy a heap of plants when she visited, but we couldn't find a garden centre. Besides, I wanted to see if anything came up in the spring first. I did have a go at digging, to see what the soil was like. It is an incredible rich black loam, which I assume is either silt or ancient volcanic in origin. However, it's full of roots from the trees and not been dug before. When you dig down far enough, you reach solid clay. I wish I knew more about geology!

So, there is the photo of the garden as we found it. Pretty bleak really.

But, it's early days [pretending I'm at two years ago again...]

The only things I have planted so far are some clumps of "cat grass" - something readily available and much enjoyed by Raymi, although I have to feed it to him as he hasn't grasped the idea of munching it himself. Daft animal.

I have plans, I just don't know what they are yet! But I have bought some books on Japanese Gardens, so perhaps a Zen garden will be on the cards.

To be continued...

“Stimulated Patients”

Monday 5^th February 2007

Back to the Nihon Medical School today for the full-on English lessons for the young doctors. It's a long trek to the other side of Tokyo for what turned out to be really hard and intensive work. All for payment by a train ticket! Still, it's all a good life experience.

Again, minor hysteria and many giggles amongst us "teachers"; not helped by me sitting next to a fabulous girl from the Czech Republic with a wicked sense of humour who had me in stitches all day. Unintended pun!

This is the very first time this exercise has been attempted so everyone, heads of sections, teachers and students, were going through a steep learning curve. The med students looked frankly terrified and we all had to rotate, change desks after each "interview" spending just 10 minutes with each student. This included running the session then reporting on their progress to the entire class of about a hundred people. Rather humiliating for the students, I felt.

Most of them had very little English, so this was quite a trial. I can see the reasoning behind it: more gaijin are in Japan than ever before, and therefore many turn up in hospital where without an interpreter, life would be very difficult for both patient and doctor.

We are performing as "simulated patients", pretending to present a specific range of symptoms for the doctors to identify, diagnose and suggest treatment. It was too tempting to go into dramatic overdrive and pretend to suffer suitably, rather than read from our script. One of the leaders kept saying "stimulated" instead of "simulated", which did nothing to quell our hysterical giggles.

After a few reports, the head doctor had to step in and tell us precisely how the Japanese had to be reported on. It's normal here to NOT praise out of hand. Negative criticism is expected; they don't quite understand outright commendation and it embarrasses them - allegedly. My students looked very pleased to be congratulated. It must have been extremely difficult for them to conduct an entire day in an alien language that they probably hadn't spoken since having a few lessons at school. Not to mention using English medical terminology.

However, as they are trying to encourage the learning of English and move into a more international environment they told us to insert the negative between two positives. And example: "You welcomed me very nicely and kept up good eye contact. However, I felt very distracted by your constant hand gestures. If you can control this, I believe you may make a good doctor".

In Britain, this is known as a "shit sandwich".

At one point, a very long discussion broke out with the entire class with the masters as to whether it was correct to mention a woman's weight during a medical appointment. The Americans felt this was a huge insult to the woman while the Europeans couldn't really see the problem. The Japanese looked horrified that it was even an issue!

At the end of the day, I was exhilarated with being part of something so different and hopefully effective to the future of Japanese medicine.

Work continues

Monday and Tuesday, 29^th – 30^th January 2007

All day training on both these days (don't forget the school run at each end – how do people do this full time? Amazed respect to them).

Two classes per day.
Nice day on Monday – PowerPoint, not so nice day on Tuesday – Advanced Excel, my 2^nd least favourite subject!

On Monday, all goes well until lunchtime when Tim takes me to a tiny Japanese restaurant for lunch. Fabulously basic place, with the option to sit or kneel on the floor. We take the tiny section containing chairs and place our order.

Then wait for our meal. And wait. And wait some more...

The time arrives for my afternoon course to start when the meal arrives!

Cue urgent phone calls to the office for a minor postponement and a plea to Tim to do the school run, thankfully granted. This really isn't turning out too well, is it? What must they think of my professionalism?

Fantastic food though, shame about the service.

On Tuesday, having learned my lesson, I bring in sandwiches!

Absolutely shattered, very little voice left so I'm pleased I have a couple of days grace until the next course on Friday morning. I won't bother blogging any more about this for fear of boring you all to tears.

Suffice it to say, I survived, and for a second time, pledged NEVER AGAIN!

On an up-note, one of the "handymen" I trained was so pleased with me helping him out that he asked how he could repay me.

At this point, I'd decided to try and sparkle up my tiny garden a little so asked if he could find me some plants to put in it while he was doing his gardening work.

I was just joking, thinking this would be a particularly out-of-order request, but if you don't ask...!

Never Say Never!

25^th January 2007

Today I have to go to work.

(Silent screaming!)

I will have to stand in a classroom teaching people how to use their PCs and Microsoft for the first time in exactly six years.

And still do the school run at each end of the day.

Today's course (Basic Excel) was normally taught over a full day, but this time I have to squeeze it into three and a half hours.

It's hard to put into words how I feel about all this, – when I gave up working all those years ago due to a difficult pregnancy, I was well past my burn-out date for this type of work. As a freelancer, I used to alternate a few months training with a few months as helpdesk and support work. This helped keep me sane.

However, the final couple of years of my IT freelancing career were all of these jobs lumped together in one glorious and adventurous mission. I kept at it, although I was "close to the edge", is as it allowed me to travel all over the world, from Moscow to the Solomon Islands (but I'll save all those stories for another blog!).

So, when I finally had to resign due to health reasons, and to become a full-time mum, I swore I would NEVER go back to that work again. Ten years of IT training was enough for me.

Never say "never"...

So, words to explain how I feel... dread, frustration, anxious, irritation, horrified, yet surprisingly calm as I do know my stuff, and slightly exhilarated.

Interesting selection of students, from high-powered bosses to the "hired help" who are, frankly terrified. I separate them to alleviate their terror from being up close to the Big Boss and in doing so, have made a friend for life!

By the end of the day I am absolutely exhausted with sore feet and a sore throat from talking and 'projecting' my voice. Out of practise!

The course went well and it was actually hard to spread it over the time allowed. I've always managed to keep the course time down because I don't waste time telling the students what they don't need to know for their job. However, I used to be on a daily rate of pay, now I'm on an hourly rate, so I need to keep my hours UP!

However, all the angst with this particular job came hurtling back once I realised I'd been given the wrong information as usual. So I ended up having to have lots of meetings with various people to find out precisely what was expected and had to cancel tomorrow's course.

The upside is that I get to go out to lunch with Tim, which is lovely and something we haven't done for years.

Small world though: in January 2001, Tim and I were working in Vienna and met a rather memorable couple. I'd bumped into a guy here a couple of times who looked vaguely familiar, then spotted his wife's name on the phone list and had a lightbulb moment - it was the same couple!

Anyway, this night I stayed up until midnight rewriting all the courses for next week to incorporate what the students actually know rather than what they think they know... a big difference. I think I may have bitten off more than I can chew – it's going to be a tough week.

Think of the money... it's the only thing keeping me going!

Bus Bliss

Oh, what a difference finding the bus has made to my life!

We can leave for school almost an hour later, meaning a lot less shouting (from Mum) and a lot less resistance (from Rhiannon). It's a new experience for Rhiannon who hasn't had the pleasure of riding a bus before, and we can see more of the surrounding areas.

The bus route seems to finish just around the corner of Shibuya station and then there is a little walk to school, but nothing compared to taking the Metro.

The scenery en-route is fascinating. Just up the road from us is a small area of greenery – trees, shrubs and some large rocks. Very pretty. Interspersed amongst the trees are a number of blue tarpaulins fashioned into tents and lean-tos. It's a small and seemingly permanent area for homeless people. What a very appealing place to set up 'home'.

Then we travel through Harajuku, the centre of fashionable Tokyo along with an incredibly busy station. And home to an enormous multi-storey shop called 'Snoopy Town'. What do you think it sells? Yup: everything to do with Snoopy and his friends! After this the bus negotiates the unbelievably hectic crossings around Shibuya, including the famous Hachiko crossing. This takes some time but it's still way better than taking the train as I get to people-watch to my heart's content.

On one bus journey, we spot a mum with her daughter who is wearing the BST school uniform, so we pop over to say "Hello". The mum is Japanese and married to a Greek man, while the girl is in the year above Rhiannon. We have a lovely chat and then the mum asks me why I get off the bus so early? It appears that, if I had a little more knowledge and more patience, the bus doesn't terminate at the stop where we normally disembark. After waiting there for 5 or 10 minutes, it then moves up the road to stop literally just across the road from school. Bliss!

Returning home is even simpler. After dropping Rhiannon off at school, I can nip back across the road and within a few minutes catch the bus home. I still have to watch very carefully where to get off and press the little button to ring the stopping bell, otherwise I end up some distance away and have to retrace my steps by about half a kilometre.

The reverse school run works just as well, with enough time for Rhiannon to get a little play in the small playground near school before catching the bus home, arriving more than an hour earlier than before. Happy child = happy mum.

I've bought myself an MP3 player – something I've never been too keen on as I prefer not to have things stuck in my ears. But have since discovered the joy of tuning out. However, after finding myself singing aloud to some Leftfield track (oops!), I decided to download some Japanese lessons instead. Might as well use my extra time for good intentions. I've learned how to say "hello" for the different times of day, finally mastered "thank you"... and that's about it so far.

After a few drinks, I agree to do something different...

Monday 22^nd January 2007

This is something new. It appears that I've offered to help some student doctors learn English! It's amazing what one will agree to after a few drinks!!

One of the other wives I've met through Tim's work is a GP and has contacts around Tokyo. She's persuaded a few of us who are at a loose end to help out in a brand new training session in some teaching hospital on the other side of Tokyo.

Today is the "train the trainers" induction. And even better, we'll get paid for it!

So, after a blissful school run on the bus we met up at a Metro station and headed off on quite a long journey to this hospital. Once at our destination Metro station, we proceeded, as is normal, to get completely lost. It seems most people get lost in Tokyo on a daily basis so everyone is incredibly helpful. However, if the person we've asked directions of doesn't know the way, they won't actually say they don't know – saving face? Or just wanting to help? I don't know; instead they confidently give directions to somewhere else, anywhere! I guess they hope we will find someone more clued up. An interesting yet frustrating characteristic.

Eventually after much walking and luck, we find the hospital; a huge, imposing and unprepossessing building with many pale and exhausted-looking young people in white coats bustling around. Just like hospitals in the UK, really. I think I was expecting something extremely modern, state-of-the-art and high-tech. This it most certainly wasn't.

There was a vending machine, of course, so I grabbed a tin of coffee and swigged it down. I quite like the vending machine coffee as it's hot and sweet. The taste isn't really coffee, but it will do the job.

We found out where to go and squeezed into a very small and rickety lift along with a few other gaijin who were all there for the same session. One of them carried rather a lot of extra weight... and the lift started complaining! The maximum weight it could carry was exceeded and it was not going to move until this was sorted. Unembarrassed, the large gentleman got out and the lift worked again.

Next, a trail of bemused gaijin wandered down a low-ceilinged corridor and found a huge room set up with a number of desks and a speaker's podium at the front.

There were about 70 gaijin of all ages, nationalities, skills and reasons for being there. Most were after the promised money, some were there for the experience and others were there as favours to friends. A couple of back-packing types barely had any English themselves, this didn't bode well for the poor students. Feeling a little nervous we got a bit giggly and silly, but soon behaved ourselves when the "teachers" came in.

Names were taken, paperwork handed out, instruction leaflets and scripts to read from. How to work with the students, some of whom had barely any English at all, apparently, and pep-talks from a number of high ranking doctors.

Then the bombshell – we WEREN'T going to get paid for this! Oh, the uproar that caused! Misinformation, change of mind, who knows; but there was a lot of unrest and complaining so a gopher was dispatched to find out what had happened.

Meanwhile, we broke for coffee.

On our return, the powers-that-be had come up with a compromise – we wouldn't get cash, but we would get a railcard to the same value – about £25 per day's attendance for the actual training to commence next week.

Not particularly happy about this, but as I do use the Metro it will be useful.

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!!

 

IT Training Work Looming

Friday, 19^th January 2007

Today I had another meeting to find out precisely what sort of computer training they want me to do at the Embassy. I've been given a scary list. Well, it's scary only because a lot of it is entitled "Advanced" and I haven't done anything "Advanced" since I stopped IT Training in 2001.

However, on speaking to some of the potential students on an informal basis (in the bar...) it appears this requirement has been greatly exaggerated. Thank goodness!

Long ago, when PCs and Microsoft were first introduced into the Embassies worldwide, intensive training was provided for all staff on all the products they were to use. I was lucky enough to be taken on to help with this and got to travel the world, go to exotic locations and meet interesting people. All in the line of work of, course. Ah, those were the days!

Of course, staff members move on and move in, so quite a few people never received the initial training and, unless they already had the computer skills, were expected to just pick it up as they worked. As most of us know, this isn't the best way to learn for many people.

So, rather than pay a fortune to bring someone all the way over from the UK to run classes, I will do it instead. Luckily, my speciality is tailoring courses to suit the trainees so I found out what they knew and set myself the task of creating bespoke courses in all the Microsoft Office programs.

The first course is scheduled for next Thursday, 25^th January. Yikes! I have a lot of work to do before then. I am nervous, cross and excited all at the same time...

Costco and Toilet Paper

Now, why would an enormous globally present supermarket warrant a blog post of its own?
Because it was a trip away from home and because I’ve never been to one. Ever!

My lovely friend Tere, was kind enough to offer to drive me to Costco so I could to stock up on essentials such as toilet roll and Western food. Toilet roll is very thin here, and is only sold in packets of two. We have three toilets in our house so it runs out rapidly. Half a roll equals the same, erm... absorbency as a few sheets of Andrex.

OK, too much information there! On with the trip...

After we’d dropped our children off at school, I got into Tere’s car for an interesting drive. Tere is from Costa Rica and drives like a true Latino. Which means that when she found herself in the wrong lane, she thought nothing of driving over the zebra crossing in order to get into the correct lane. Numerous times she stopped to jab the GPS as it was giving conflicting information – allegedly. I must admit to closing my eyes a couple of times, but we reached Costco intact.

Then she said, “Of course, Costco only take American Express or cash, do you have AmEx?”
Uhhh, NO! And I don’t have much cash either!! Oh dear. It looks like I won’t be bulk buying after all.

Costco was as large as an aircraft hanger and spanned two floors. What an experience! Huge trays of meat, sacks of fruit and veg and a staggering number of, mostly American, foodstuffs. Crates of wine and many other enticing articles were out of my reach having no means of paying for them.

Luckily, all the items were labelled in English as well as Japanese but I nearly made a terrible mistake. Boxes of sugar were displayed alongside other white granules. I grabbed what I thought was granulated sugar, then, as an afterthought, read the label... it was Monosodium Glutamate! Eeeew!!

But I did stock up on cat food and cat litter, plus some lovely bread and a few other bits and pieces.

And I bought a giant pack of toilet paper.

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.

 

 

 

Taking Control of my Days

 

12^th January 2007

Today I made some life-progress!

I committed to two new things, both of which I have never done before.

To start, I went to a coffee morning at the school. Held in the large, sunny school library, it was completely packed with mums. Coffee and real English tea was available so I made sure I indulged freely in the tea. The librarian, a wonderful Swedish man, provided a feast of delicious home-made cakes which didn’t last long.

Feeling very much like the new girl at school (which actually, I was) I drifted around trying, and completely failing, to get included in conversations.  So I people-watched for a while; a mix of nationalities, including Japanese, is represented at the school but the people attending the coffee morning were all gaijin. Most had expensively highlighted hair, loud voices and enormous glittering diamond rings. I feel very different and most definitely a bystander. I wonder if this is a Mummy Mafia that has been much written about in the British press.

I discovered that someone was handing out booklets so I asked for a copy. It’s entitled “Tokyo ABC – A Parent’s Guide to Life, Living and Getting Out of the car Parks!” which bodes well for some useful and amusing content.

After an indeterminate length of time (three cups of tea) I decided to leave. There were far too many people there, all ostentatiously greeting and gossiping with old friends and not particularly interested in talking to newbies, apart from the typically female 'once-over' - the slow, top-to-toe sweeping look that is designed to make one feel inferior. Never works with me, just makes me laugh!

So, clutching my new book, I headed off to find something else to do.

I found a Starbucks, and grasped at the familiar to rediscover my equilibrium – and find a toilet after all those cuppas!

Settling down to have a flick through this interesting and useful book, the first page I looked at declared “don’t stay at home alone” and “find something to do”.

OK, let’s do that.                               

Many of the people that had taken the time to talk to me (not from the school) had mentioned a church that ran cultural courses as part of their Women’s Group. Now, I do not ‘do’ church, but seeing the list of classes they ran I decided to go and see what was open to me. I knew the name of the church so I hailed a cab only to discover that it was located just up the road! Luckily the cabbies here are very honest and he told me – in sign language and Japanese – where it was, rather than letting me get in and taking me on a scenic, money-making drive as they would in many other countries.

I always have a slight reservation in entering churches, fearing I’ll be struck down for my disbelief – which is a ridiculous statement if you analyse it. Venturing in I met Rose, the lovely receptionist, who handed me a brochure and I sat down to peruse the class list.

Between the school run times and finances, I narrowed my wish list down and booked in to learn Ikebana. I didn’t realise there was more than one school of this floral arrangement discipline, and two of the three were in the afternoons, making it tricky to get back to school in time to collect Rhiannon. So I chose the one that was running on Monday mornings – Sogetsu Ikebana. I also put my name down for a one day lesson on Japanese Gardens and another to do some enamelling. How refined of me!

Feeling very pleased with myself, I headed home so I would have time for a short rest before heading out for the much dreaded two-hour school run.

 

 

 

 

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.

Being Grumpy

It's amazing how cross and disgruntled this little job is making me! I haven't even got into the training room yet and I am already very grumpy about the work next week. It's only a few days over the next month so why am I getting so worked up about it?

Mainly I think it's because I spent an extremely intensive period doing the same line of work, for similar people, so I know what to expect. And also because I know that this will be very different as in my previous incarnation of 'IT Trainer', I never had to see the trainees again: this time Tim will be working with the people and we will both see them over the next four years. So I have to be nice to them...

One ray of light is, by some miracle, I found all my old training materials on an old portion of my hard drive so all I have to do is adapt them for these special courses. I am overjoyed as I thought all this work was on my old laptop which no longer functions as anything other than a large doorstop.

This took a weight off my mind so I started writing my first Tokyo Tales article instead.

I'd just got my creative flow going when an American woman who befriended me at the school door phoned for a chat. She's rather pushy but I'll give anyone a chance (and she is the only one who's spoken to me at school so far) so I arrange a playdate for our kids at the weekend. Somehow she stayed on the phone for over an hour even though I tried to get away.

My creative flow was completely washed away now, so I turned to another project.

Tim had mentioned someone at work who knew the owner of one of the English language papers and I should send in my CV. As my CV is so far out of date it's almost in a different century, this required some careful contemplation.

I got as far as changing my name and address when the computer crashed and wouldn't restart. Great. Just great.

OK. Now what?

Oh, time for the school run! It takes around two hours each way so this doesn't leave me much time during the day. Especially when an hour is wasted on the telephone.

“I’ve Got You a Job!”

10^th January 2007

These were Tim's opening words to me when he arrived home from work last night.

Yikes! I don't want a job. I already have a job and I certainly don't want to work in the same place as Tim. Not because I don't want to work with him as I've already done that in the past. What fills me with horror though is the idea of working for other people having been self-employed for more years than I was employed.

I'm speechless. But not for long as Tim explains the details further. It turns out that the office were about to contact London to send someone out to provide IT training to a few members of staff when Tim leapt in with "Oh, no need to call them, that's what Carole does!"

DID, not DOES!!

I gave up this work in 2001 when I was pregnant with Rhiannon and I had absolutely no intention of ever getting into it again. Admittedly it was extremely profitable and was a job I once loved, but towards the end of what had been many years running the same courses again and again, I was burnt out and unable to continue. I swore to myself I would never, ever do that work again.

Never say never.

My blood ran cold and I started to protest. But Tim was so excited I had to hear him out. From the information he gave me, there was almost no way I could get out of this and agreed to see the people involved.

So into the office I went, with a heavy heart and tried to pretend I was all efficient and organised.

They were ecstatic at finding someone over here that was qualified to do this work. Everything was in place already, including the special systems knowledge I already had from my previous contract with them all those years ago.

In an effort to finally wriggle out of the work I quoted a very high price for my time.

They accepted and I was obligated.

Panic!

Because I had declared my intention never to do this job again, I had thrown out all my text books, notes and exercises in the UK just before moving here. I will have to rewrite everything in less than a week.

DOUBLE PANIC!! And a lot of swearing...

 

 

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!

To See the Emperor...

Chronological crisis again... let's go back to...

2nd January 2007

Stuck for something to do, we decided to join the crowds and visit the Emperor in his Palace!

The Imperial family here don’t meet the masses as our British Royal family do, but the masses are graciously permitted to go and see them in their Palace on two occasions each year: on the current Emperor’s birthday, 23rd December and also 2nd January, which is when we decided to venture there.

We caught the train and basically followed the multitudes along a long road bordering a rather strange field full of enormous bonsai trees. The trees were rigorously pruned into gloriously stylised shapes, just as traditional bonsai trees are, with one exception; these trees were a couple of metres high and laid out like an orchard.

Along the red-cone-lined route were gentlemen handing out Japanese flags and we were given one each. We thought we may be treated with suspicion being gaijin, but the atmosphere was incredibly friendly and happy.

Across the moat which is lined with huge, grey stones and through a magnificent set of doors.

We weren’t allowed to stop and take photos, as I discovered when I tried to snap a particularly beautiful view. I was gently, yet firmly moved along by the palace police. I still got the photo though! But it seemed to be OK to take photos as long as we kept moving.

There were set times for the Imperial family to appear at the window and we arrived with about 20 minutes to wait; which was lucky! The crowds seemed to be well controlled as the area in front of the palace didn’t get overfull and there was no disagreeable pushing and shoving.

I was rather disappointed with the lack of grandness the palace displayed. It appeared to be just two storeys high and surrounded by windows. But I later discovered that it had been rebuilt after being destroyed in World War 2 and was built to be earthquake-proof.

Over the loudspeakers came various speeches which, of course, were undecipherable to us. However, one particular speech seemed different to/from the rest. Spoken by a women with a soothing mellifluous voice the speech had the sound of a prayer. This feeling was emphasised by most of the crowd lowering their heads. It was the most relaxing and comforting sound I‘ve ever heard, and would love to know the words.

A sense of expectation was palpable.

From time to time the smartly attired palace guards would change position, which caused a ripple of anticipation throughout the crowd. 

Then, they appeared!

Japan’s Imperial Family can be seen at their window amidst happy cheers and much flag waving.

They waved and smiled for a while; the Emperor said a few words and then they all went back inside.

And that was it!

A Testing Day...

4^th January 2007

 

  

Mum’s flying back to the UK today and we are due to go to the Driving Test Centre to get our Japanese driving licenses sorted out.

 

 

Two cars are coming to collect us, one to take Mum to Narita Airport and one to take me, Tim and Rhiannon to the test centre. Both cars are due at the same time, 8 o’clock in the morning.  With our lack of language skills, the potential for a comedic outcome is very high. Can you imagine the confusion? What if Mum gets in the wrong car and ends up at the license centre?!

 

 

Luckily, it all worked out just fine with the car taking Mum to the airport arriving first. Of course, it was sad waving goodbye to her but she’ll be back again in just a few months for Easter. She’s a great traveller, my Mum, and spends her year travelling to remote areas on botanical trips, hunting rare flowers and then committing them to paper: she’s a recognised and successful botanical artist. Not bad for a lady in her seventies!

  

  

 

 

So, on to our adventure at the Japanese driving centre...

  

 

 

This was something Tim sprung on me at the last minute so I had no idea what to expect. Mind you, neither did he, so we were both entering the arena blind. The plan was that our driver, loaned by Tim’s work, was to accompany us in to help with translations and other necessary guidance.

  

 

 

With plenty of books and colouring-in paraphernalia to keep Rhiannon occupied, we nervously set off. Personally, I was more nervous of how Rhiannon was going to react to a lot of waiting, which was the only thing we’d been warned about. However, she was remarkably good, which made a change!

  

 

 

We arrived at the centre at about 8.30am and discovered there was absolutely nowhere for our driver to park. So we ended up sending him back and entered the unknown realm alone and apprehensive. Not only that, but we would have to find our way back again on public transport which was a daunting prospect – but that was after the first trial – getting through the licensing procedures unaccompanied.

  

 

 

The building reminded me of a school; cavernous, painted an institutional beige with rooms, corridors and doors everywhere. Various young people wandered around like lost souls so we joined them in our search for the correct place to start.  

  

 

 

With great relief we found the route to the “Foreigners” area was signposted in English. Our first port of call was a small window half hidden in a corner where we handed over various items of paperwork to a stern woman to deal with. And then sat and waited. And waited some more. This was the main theme of the morning.

  

 

 

Suddenly another couple of gaijin arrived from a different direction. They’d already been through this process so I pounced and grilled the poor people on what happens next. I do like to be prepared, and thankfully they were extremely helpful and explained what precisely would happen amidst the waiting.

 

They told us that we would have to take a sight test and explained what this involved, which was very useful.

  

Being British, we wouldn’t have to take the practical driving test, thank goodness! This is reserved for those foreigners who drive on the right: Japan drives on the left (hooray!), so makes it so much easier for us Brits to convert our license.

  

 

 

Our names were called and we were directed to another department on a different floor in order to pay our fees, then return to the same window again. After some more waiting, we were sent for our sight test.

  

 

 

A large room in yet another part of the building was the setting for this. Our spirits sank at the sight of a long queue of people snaked along the corridor, but the process was remarkably quick.

  

We reached an inspector with a grim and bored expression on his face. He was sat in front of a large grey machine. I went first and sign language was the order of the day. Translation:

Inspector: “Do you wear glasses or contact lenses?”

Me: “Yes”

Inspector: “Read this” and thrust a laminated A4 sheet at me which showed how to do the eye test. I was given very little time to read it before he snatched it away again, but luckily I can speed read so understood what was expected of me.

  

There were several circles with segments missing and I had to show which side of the circle the gap was. (See the picture for a visual explanation). There was also to be a colour test; primary colours to be identified. Easy!

  

 

The sight test commenced with me looking through binoculars attached to the grey machine. A screen lit up with a circle on the top right. I had to wave my arms to show which position the missing segment was on. The circles bounced around the screen getting progressively smaller and smaller. Fun! The colour test was a breeze as the inspector had obviously learnt the English for red, blue and yellow. Again, coloured lights were flashed up on the screen and I just had to state the colour.

  

 

 

I passed!

  

 

 

Then it was Tim’s turn... Hah! He didn’t read the document fast enough and went a bit Basil Fawlty, raising his voice a little too much. Besides, I think it was time for the inspector’s break as he was getting a little fed up by now so there seemed to be some misunderstandings along the way.

  

Translation:

Inspector: probably thinking, “oh no, not another gaijin” “Do you wear glasses or contact lenses?”

Tim: “HUH?”

Inspector: “DO YOU WEAR GLASSES OR CONTACT LENSES?”

Tim: “YES!”

Inspector: “HUH? DO. YOU. WEAR. GLASSES. OR. CONTACT. LENSES???”                    

Tim: “YES, I. WEAR. CONTACT. LENS” pointing to one of his eyes (he wears lenses in both eyes, by the way).

Inspector: rolling his eyes now, handed Tim an eyepiece to cover the one eye he’d pointed to... obviously thinking Tim wore just one contact lens! So Tim had to do the sight test with one eye.

 

 

  

The colour test was even funnier. For some reason best known to himself Tim thought the colours were traffic light colours, so instead of saying “blue” he kept saying “green”! By this time the inspector was visibly annoyed and possibly about to fail him, so between my giggles I whispered to Tim, “It’s blue, you twit!”...

  

 

 

Eventually, he passed too.

  

 

 

Time for a break... so we went for a can of vending machine coffee and a cigarette to recover before the next bout.

  

 

 

Now we had to get a photograph taken as the ones we’d brought with us were unsuitable for some reason. So off we went to yet another room for our pictures to be taken, and then to another place so we could stamp them out to the right size. And back to “our window” once more for some more waiting.

  

 

 

Oh, at some point we also had to watch a video about safe driving, but as we couldn’t understand a word of it, we took the opportunity to have some more coffee and a snack.

  

 

 

Finally, at 12.30pm we were finished and left the building clutching our brand new Japanese driving licenses. What an interesting morning!

  

 

 

Finding our way home was a little tricky as we had only vague directions in Japanese to get to the train station, but obviously we made it.

 

 

 

I wonder if and when we will get a car? It will make life so much easier.

 

 

New Year's Eve 2006

Since becoming parents, we hadn't really bothered with the whole New Year thing in the UK and usually just watched a bit of TV then went to bed. Both of us had done plenty of partying in the past, so didn't miss it at all. Personally, I find New Year's Eve a rather emotional event for some reason, and nowadays just treat it as a normal evening.

But, for our first New Year's Eve in Japan we thought we really ought to do something special.

However, we weren't entirely sure precisely what to do, bearing in mind we had a 5 year old child to include, as well as my Mum...

At the time, we had no idea on the significance and tradition of this special day in Japan so were only basing our expectations on the UK celebrations.

Our options seemed to be one of two things: either visit a shrine along with several thousand Tokyoites or spend the evening at the work bar, where a special evening had been planned for the first time as a number of new people had just arrived.

Tim and I spent a couple of days researching our options: I talked to the young blue-haired lad in the conbeni - corner shop - who proved to be an asset as he spoke a little English and was eager to chat whenever I popped in for milk. Tim spoke to his colleagues at work.

While some couples were off to see what happened at a shrine, my conbeni friend said an emphatic "no" to this when I mentioned it to him. I think because he'd seen Rhiannon and was worried she'd be crushed by the crowds. Further questioning discovered that all the shrine-goers throw coins a long distance, so, in the position of caring parents, we decided to take his advice and not go. This left the work 'do', so that is where we ended up.

What a strange evening that was!

A few people, none of whom knew each other, sat in a soulless bar clutching drinks tried to make small-talk above the sound of some random music, while an overtired, but excited 5 year old ran around trying unsuccessfully to find something to do.

Accutely aware of being in a bar with my Mother for the first time, I was unable to relax as I felt I should keep an eye on her. Apart from the weirdness the actual fact engendered, New Year's Eve has always been a very poignant time as something had happened the New Year's Eve shortly before Dad died - it seems he'd had a premonition that it was to be his last New Year on earth and photos of the event show a scared man looking at the camera. Very painful.

So, we edgily sipped champagne, watched the clock until it said midnight, kissed each other and headed off home, expecting to see and hear fireworks and crowds of people.

But nothing! No fireworks, no people, no singing or shouting, no drunken louts lying in gutters or staggering along the street, no pools of vomit everywhere, nothing!

The whole journey home was a quiet as the grave, not a soul to be seen. This was my first sense of culture shock, it was just so incredibly different, yet pleasantly so.

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.

Christmas Eve 2006

In the evening, I joyfully announced to my friends online in the UK that I’d be having Christmas before them and then settled down to wrapping presents. Not as easy a job as expected as Japan does not seem to have wrapping paper of any kind, let alone any of the size we’re used to. And certainly not any Christmas paper. We forgot the Japanese don’t celebrate Christmas.

Rhiannon has received her letter from Santa, complete with reindeer food and a special key so that he can find his way in without a chimney! We have used this fabulous place every year so far, and cannot fault them in any way www.specialletters.com. The wonderful people here (especially Sharon) work so hard to make each year’s letter very special and personal. It’s wonderful to be able to keep the magic alive in this way – I wonder how long Rhiannon will continue to believe?

 So, Christmas Eve is over, food has finally been found for tomorrow, wine is chilling in the fridge, Mum is doing sudokus, Tim is grumpy - all is normal!

Rhiannon has put the special reindeer food out on the doorstep (apparently it glows once she’s asleep, so guiding Rudolph and friends to the correct house) along with a can of beer and a snack for Santa! She’s trotted happily off to bed with her stocking.

Due to her light sleeping habits (grrr!) she has to leave her stocking outside her room, which does make it easier to fill, but has drawbacks if (or more usually, when) she gets up during the night. If the stocking is filled too early, none of us will get any sleep at all. So we have to drop it off in the early hours of the morning, just in case...

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.

 

An International Supermarket!

It's amazing how something so mundane can become exciting and adventurous!

Some friends took us to an international supermarket called Nissin where we are assured we will be able to get all kinds of necessary groceries. Hooray!!

However, this involved numerous and complex changes on the Metro and a lot of walking. Not very practical.

The first floor is a general supermarket, and the top floor is just full to the brim with alcohol: I have never seen so many bottles of booze in one place - not even at the parties I used to attend in my 'youth'!

We managed to buy some recognisable items, including some small joints of meat and cereals, so we are now set for the next week or so. I have to pretend to mum that we eat properly, of course!

But the struggle to carry all the shopping bags home was totally exhausting, so I can't see us doing that very often. We literally walked miles.

Our First Visitor

Mum’s arrived!

I had been dreadfully worried about her as, just before we left the UK, she confessed that her blood pressure was dangerously high, and I can’t help feeling that our move was contributing to this. She’d been hiding the fact as "she didn't want to worry me", even telling my brother not to tell me - some hope, he never calls anyway. 

This is typical of Mum: many years after the event she eventually got around to telling me about her heart attack.  Parents can be such a worry: I thought it was supposed to be the other way around.

We also lost a good family friend last month after a long and painful deterioration. Gordon had been a massive influence to me and, together with my darling dad, introduced me to the marvellous hobbies of conservation, wildlife and bird-watching, and I will remember him fondly. And console myself with the thought of him and Dad happy in "heaven" searching for afterlife wildlife.

But, back to Mum...

She stepped out of the taxi from the airport looking absolutely fabulous and healthy! I’m sure the enforced 12 hours of sitting on a plane with her feet up did wonders for her. She isn't one for taking a rest so I was much relieved. It's only been a few weeks since I last saw her, but it seems like a lifetime ago.

Our house appears to be very difficult to find, even with state-of-the art GPS systems. I'd posted her a photo of the front aspect so she could show the driver, but we haven't found a map yet. However, it worked, after a few missed turnings, and the driver was very pleased with himself, grinning broadly and giving us the thumbs up.

After a reviving cup of coffee we set off to counteract her jetlag and show her the neighbouring Shinjuku Gyoen Garden. The perfect antidote for a tired and exhausted botanical artist and nature lover like mum!

At only 200yen to enter (less than £1), this is a cheap and beautiful place to spend time, and Rhiannon and I have spent a lot of time here since arriving. The Autumn colours are particularly spectacular in the brilliant blue sky and clear sunshine. Ginko trees are still bright yellow, and the acers are an almost unbelievable shade of red. Rhiannon has fun running through the fallen leaves, like generations of children before her. We did laugh though, when she jumped into a particularly thick and crunch-looking pile... and disappeared up to her waist!http://www.env.go.jp/garden/shinjukugyoen/english/index.html

It was hard to get Mum away from the garden and, being so close to home, she is already planning a sketching visit later during her stay.

 

Shake, Rattle and Roll

Something strange happened this evening. Rhiannon was in bed and Tim and I were pottering around when suddenly there was a loud “whump” which rattled the large, French windows in our dining room.

To me, this sounded a lot like the wind I heard as a child growing up on the edge of Dartmoor, so I took little notice of it, apart from wondering what the weather was doing.

Minutes later, another “whump” sounded and the ground shook, and carried on shaking for, ooh, all of a few seconds. But it felt a lot longer than that. Our first earthquakes! Luckily, it didn’t wake Rhiannon up.

Although fully aware of the high seismic activity in Japan I had taken the ostrich approach and had neglected to find out what we were supposed to do when “the Big One” hit.  So, somewhat nervously I started googling.

I found a website http://earthquake.usgs.gov/eqcenter/recenteqsww/Maps/region/Asia.php which gives details of the strength of the tremor and discovered this one measured a mere 4.6 on the Richter Scale – a minor earthquake. Minor in geological terms, maybe, but pretty major for me! I am not looking forward to experiencing anything larger than that. I was shaking long after the ground had stopped.

Sometimes it is really not a good idea to google.

I had a very sleepless night and resolved to buy myself some pyjamas.

Christmas Concert

Once again, we braved the trip to school. This involves a 15 minute walk to our nearest Metro station, two stops in the wrong direction, then change lines to head in the right direction.

The change of lines involves walking nearly a kilometre.

Neither Rhiannon, nor I, enjoy this one little bit. We are both inherently lazy.

Once at Shibuya, I consult Tim's wonderful map and we make  our way to the correct exit. Another 15 minutes walk and we are finally at the school. All this with a complaining 5 year old.

And then all the way back again in the afternoon. There must be an easier way?!

Anyway, we are directed to the concert hall where we are regaled with the most fabulous school concert I have ever seen! It's a real theatre, with a stage and proper seating. Although it was so packed that we ended up moving seats several times before ending up sitting on the steps in the aisle. Not good for my poor back.

First up are the young Taiko drummers, a crescendo of sound that sends the hairs on the back of my neck into overdrive. Next are the Reception classes, all dressed up in shiny, colourful costumes and fully confident of their part in the little skit they are performing.

As I’m sat there, with tears in my eyes (and they aren’t even MY children!) proudly imagining my daughter up on stage next year, Rhiannon looks completely horrified and loudly states “I am NEVER going up there!”

The rest of the concert was equally impressive and I was left with a feeling of relief that my daughter would be attending such a progressive and interesting school.

Apart from the nightmare school-run, that is.

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.

 

Tragedy

Sunday 3^rd December 2006

We returned home this evening, after a day out, to be met by the awful sight of my cat, Inti, dragging himself pitifully across the floor while Raymi fussed around him looking anxious.

Rhiannon was in hysterics and I wasn’t far off. We had no idea what had happened, but his back legs were completely paralysed and a strange smell emanated from him. Tim’s precious wooden carving from the South Pacific was in two pieces on the floor having originally been placed on the top of the bookshelf. So, our first thought was that Inti had been injured by the falling statue or some other mishap.

Not being useful in any traumatic situation, I immediately panicked and telephoned the first person I could think of, our liaison helper. But she was unable to find out where a vet would be at this time of night, on a Sunday.

Then I had a brainwave and sent Tim to our neighbours, who speak both English and Japanese, for help. They were fantastic; found a vet and offered to drive me and the cat over there immediately. By this time it was about 9pm.

We had trouble finding the vet, then trouble parking. But we made it in the end. A lot of paperwork had to be completed, in Japanese – there is no way I could have done this on my own, and I will be forever grateful to our neighbours. Finally, Inti was taken into be examined and I was asked to pay several thousand yen up front. We were told to go home and come back later after they had done numerous tests – it really didn’t sound very hopeful.

At 11pm our neighbours received a call for us to go back.

It was very bad news indeed. Inti had a grossly enlarged heart – cardiomyopathy – probably from birth and there was not enough room in the ventricles to make it work properly. He should never have been cleared to fly over here. (The vet was really quite judgmental of me and made me feel worse than I already did, but my vet in the UK had said absolutely nothing to me about this, so how could I have known?)

The paralysis was caused by a massive blood clot in the artery leading to his back legs and the odd smell was his body shutting down. Inti was in an incubator with drips and so on in order to assist him and I was invited in to see him. Heartbreakingly, he purred and licked my hand as he normally does. I kept the British stiff-upper-lip as my neighbours were watching, but I think the vet thought I was heartless.

I asked for a prognosis. If he survived the night, Inti would never walk again, and must be kept quiet and indoors for the rest of his life, which would probably span only another six months at best. He would require daily injections and medication. This is no life for a two-year old cat, especially one who loved life and was particularly playful and spirited.

So I did what I believe many people would do – I requested that he be put to sleep.

I certainly did not expect the reaction I got from the Japanese vet. It was as if I was asking her to kill my child! “We do not euthanase”, she snapped, “We are doctors who make our animal children better”.

There was no point in arguing; to do so would have put my neighbours in a very awkward position and I was too stressed to think straight at this stage. So we went home.

The next day, I took a taxi to the vet to see how Inti was doing. I had to take Rhiannon too, which made the whole situation harder than it already was. He was alive, but incredibly ill. Once again he greeted me with purrs and licks. This was tortuous: he had no life ahead of him and the kindest thing to do would be to “euthanase” him, but this was hard to get across to the vet without Rhiannon hearing the conversation. Once again the vet refused.

Such a painful day: Rhiannon asked constant questions requiring in-depth medical information as well as asking distressing things like “would Inti die and be with Grandad”. I told her yes, Inti will die as his heart wasn’t well, but I didn’t know when.

Another 24 hours passed, Inti was not recovering and the vets refused to put him out of his misery.

In the end I had to get the “fixer” at Tim’s work to call them and make it happen. But even this didn’t go according to plan, as I had to visit once again to “say goodbye” and to sign some papers. And the deed was finally done the following day.

The vets asked if I “wanted a bone”. This puzzled and upset me, but apparently is common practise here. After the body is cremated (humans too) a vertebra is kept as a memento.

I refused.

And cried a lot.

Tokyu Hands

1^st December 2006

We discovered the most amazing shop today called Tokyu Hands. 

It sells everything you could ever want and a lot of things you couldn’t imagine owning, ever. From acupuncture needles to aquariums, piano wire to paper, kitchenware to kitten toys, chopsticks to chemistry equipment, it’s all here. I foresee many happy hours spent in this shop.

It also sold some Christmas trees and decorations, hurray!

So, we now have a Christmas tree (fake), but upon returning home I remembered that one of the few things I hadn’t shipped over from the UK was… Christmas decorations. Oops! The reason I hadn’t sent them was that I was bored with them and thought, incorrectly as it turned out, that I would be able to get much nicer ones here. So we will be having a minimalist Christmas this year, which pleases me after the chaos of the unpacking yesterday after the lovely empty space of the previous weeks.

We also bought a load of picture hangers so Tim was able to put up our many pictures and make the house seem more like a home. It’s amazing the difference that one job made.

The walls appear to be made of cardboard and large pictures have to be hung from wires suspended from a rail around the top of the walls. I suspect this has something to do with earthquakes, a subject I am trying hard to ignore for now. Smaller pictures go up with just a pushpin holding them.

Being British, I feel I have to mention the weather. The only grey day was the one on which we arrived, and since then the weather has been glorious. Brilliant blue sky, sunny, crisp and cold, each and every day. The trees are turning, showing brilliant reds, oranges and yellow. Ginko trees are dropping their bright yellow leaves like snow and there are many pretty little birds bouncing and chirping in the hedges outside. I need to get a bird book, but I believe they are White Eyes and a Japanese version of a Great Tit, although this one is pinker than the British yellow version.

Luggage at Last!

30th November 2006

Finally! Our non-urgent luggage has arrived! Ah well, better than nothing, I suppose.

Somehow a large lorry reversed up the very narrow lane to our house and a large gang of men unloaded the boxes. They were all prepared to unpack it all for us too, but I wanted to do it myself.

It was like having an early Christmas, discovering things we hadn’t seen for so long. English tea! Green and Black’s chocolate!! How clever I was to remember to pack those.

Soon, the house was a complete tip. We set about filling shelves and cabinets and wondering, once again, why had we packed all these random items? Why on earth had I bought a box of old pens? Why hadn’t we left more of Rhiannon’s toys behind? She hadn’t missed them and we could have taken the opportunity to pass them on.

I wonder when our "urgent" luggage will get here? Christmas presents, my PC, our winter clothes and so on?

Eventually we found a home for everything and a very kind person gave us their old TV. So, for the first time, we were able to connect our video and DVD system and sit down with a nice cup of tea and watch a film or two.

The house seems much smaller now with all our things around.

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.

 

Our Cats Have Arrived!

24th November 2006

Inti and Raymi, our gorgeous two-year-old tabby boys were delivered straight to the door from the airport. What a horrible trip for them, poor things! At least we knew what to expect and why. Raymi is fine, if a little exhausted, but Inti is very twitchy, nervous and just not himself. We feed them treats and make a huge fuss of them and they soon settle down enough to explore their new home.

The top of the empty bookshelves is considered to be the safest place to be for now, so there they perch while Rhiannon practises her skipping - in the house! The cats are eminently sensible.

Then some of our luggage arrived!!

Tim started work today, leaving me to do all the unpacking - quite a good move on his part, I thought.

My meticulous packing plan involved shipping our unimportant goods, such as summer clothes and general knick-knacks (aka 'stuff'), two months before our departure from the UK, with the intention of them arriving a couple of weeks after our arrival in Japan.

Our urgent possessions were flown over so that they would arrive first.

You can guess what actually happened, can’t you?

Summer clothes arrived first and our urgent goods were to be delayed in customs for over a week. We survive by borrowing bedding, crockery and, my greatest necessity, a laptop, from friends. As my mother was due to arrive before Christmas, I threw a good deal of the 'stuff' randomly into cupboards intending to sort it out in the New Year. I look at it and think "why on earth did I bring that?!"

I still haven’t found time to do this and I fear I'm now stuck with my lack of organisation.

 

Time to explore our environs again!

What a wonderful discovery! A National Garden is right on our doorstep: Shinjuku Gyoen Garden is a large, beautiful, green space with plenty of space for a super-active child to run off some energy chasing fallen leaves. And for a rather stressed and jet-lagged Mum to find some tranquility and fresh air. I think I will be spending a lot of time here.

The Japanese touches are perfect; huge stone lanterns, a magnificent tea-house and massive carp in the many lakes. There was even an enormous greenhouse that we shall investigate another day. At least my mother will have somewhere green to go - she's not a fan of cities, preferring to explore wilder regions hunting for unusual plants to paint.

A Japanese gentleman insisted on taking our photos and, once again, Rhiannon was treated to lots of "kawaii" comments. She really must get used to it!

Jet lag is really kicking in now. I've never really experienced it before as whenever I've been due to have it I've been on an adreneline 'high' due either to work or excitement on holidays. The way it's affecting me this time is a general 'spaced-out' feeling, and waking at 3am absolutely starving yet too tired to get up and eat. Unfortunately, it does not seem to affect Rhiannon at all and she awakes as normal in her 6am-full-speed-ahead mode. Not fun for Mum.

 

Our First (Very) Full Day

The following day was a Public Holiday so some friends could take us sightseeing. They showed us how to use the Metro and we quickly got the hang of getting around, but the stations themselves are challenging. Finding the right exit was initially done by trial and error - usually error - but luckily we discovered the many maps with "you are here" written in English. Also gratifying was the way that many people took pity on these poor gaijin looking lost and many times we were approached with offers of help.

Having lived in London for many years, I am used to the crowds and navigating underground railways, but Tim and Rhiannon were wide-eyed at it all. We find the Metro incredibly cheap, immaculately clean and exceptionally efficient. The large pot plants that adorn the stations amaze and cheer us, and our most used phrase about nearly all aspects of Tokyo is, "can you imagine this in the UK?!" The plants would be stolen and / or vandalised within minutes.

Despite spending her entire life deep in the suburbs of an East Midlands town, Rhiannon seems to be a natural city-girl and experienced no qualms about the crowds or the Metro, which was advantageous because our first excursion was to Shibuya; what a baptism of fire! The busiest place in Tokyo on a normal day: on a Public Holiday it was incredible. Hachiko crossing was a sea of people ambling across at less than normal walking speed.

As a blue-eyed blondie, Rhiannon gets masses of attention when we are out and about. We hear "kawaii!" (cute!) a lot and someone even told her she looked like "a doll"! She was not amused. Initially, she became cross and embarrassed about it all but soon started to enjoy the interest with a shy smile.

Our next excursion was to Asakusa, which gave us a taste of a slightly more traditional Japan, with its rows of wooden stalls leading to the Sensoji Temple. Again it was incredibly busy so we didn't stay long - just enough time to get a taste for the area and to see the famous Philippe Starck Asahi Brewery building with its golden 'flame', or 'golden poo', as it was soon christened... The building to the left represents a glass of golden beer with a foaming head.

On the way home we made our first foray to our local supermarket. We have been blessed with a nearby Marusho and didn't discover the expat essentials of Costco and Nissin for several weeks. Rhiannon expressed a desire for fish-fingers and baked beans, bless her! The look on her face was an absolute picture when she saw the extensive fish displays in Marusho. Fish fingers were quickly forgotten and she decided she wanted an octopus and some of the "pretty jewels" (glistening red salmon eggs). I had to refuse as I have no idea how to deal with an octopus and we finally settled on chicken and vegetables for the time being.

I decided to buy something unfamiliar on each shopping trip, but this hasn't been successful. The baps I bought were filled with azuki - red bean paste, which was a surprise, and not a taste we are accustomed to. Rhiannon chose something she thought were packets of sherbet that turned out to be furikake, a mix of seaweed and seeds. Surprisingly, she didn't like it - such English tastes will soon change, I'm sure.