I've been helping a friend for the last two days - she and her 'half' kids had to move out in a hurry, big hurry. As she's a gaijin, outsider/foreigner, her kids are considered to be only half-Japanese, haafu, the bottle's half-empty, and despite having a Japanese father, and born in Japan, they will not be given Japanese nationality, because they are only half. This is despite the fact that every day the population of Japan goes down by 450, due to the declining birthrate.
We were all weekend in a panic trying to clear out the house, where they had lived for two years. Mid-afternoon a posse of neighbours turned up outside - had they come to ask how she was? Perhaps to offer help? No way - they had come to point out that she had put the rubbish out on a Sunday when the rubbish collection day was Monday so could she please take the rubbish to the municipal garbage dump today and not leave it overnight, under nets, and it was only plastic, not food, but still - it's the principle that counts?
On the way to my friend's house I was on the train and a small, frail, bent-double old lady fell down on the floor of the train. She couldn't get up without help. No-body moved an inch. She kept trying but men, women, young and old, all sat still staring into the mid-distance as if nothing was happening. It took a gaijin, me, to go over and help this little old lady up to her feet in the middle of a train carriage. No-one taught them what to do and say when a little old lady falls down in the middle of a train - so they don't move a muscle.
A couple of days ago I was on the train on the way to work and I realised something unusual was going on - I could hear people talking. This is very unusual. Normally, and I speak from experience, 200-300 people can be packed into a train carriage and you will usually not hear a word. Utter silence - apart from the clickety-clack of the trains on their rails and the earphone muzak. But here I was next to a North American mother talking to her 10-ish year old son, or less - I couldn't help overhearing, as they were next to me, and their non-stop conversation ranged all over the place, and included the meaning of government - what does government mean - what do they do, etc.
And I thought - how unusual - and I compared that 10-year-old to the 18 and 19 year olds that I confront every day, who usually list their hobbies as sleep, shopping and going to Disneyland, if that.
The other day I went to the Post Office to send some money to my bank account in England. There is a form to fill in: Name and address of sender of money - me, Japan. Name and address of receiver of money: me, Japan. Name and address of payer in of money - me, Japan. They couldn't handle this. An hour later and three, maybe four forms filled in in triplicate, we finally arrived at something which the bureaucrat could accept: Sender of money - me, my present address in Japan. Receiver of money - me, at my last address in Japan, in England.. So not only did I no longer live there, at that address in Japan, but clearly that Japanese address was not part of Britain - but nevertheless this surreal combination of nonsensities satisfied the screwed up version of reality that this particular Japanese bureaucrat felt he needed. Reality? Who needs reality?
Welcome to Disney-Japan.
We were all weekend in a panic trying to clear out the house, where they had lived for two years. Mid-afternoon a posse of neighbours turned up outside - had they come to ask how she was? Perhaps to offer help? No way - they had come to point out that she had put the rubbish out on a Sunday when the rubbish collection day was Monday so could she please take the rubbish to the municipal garbage dump today and not leave it overnight, under nets, and it was only plastic, not food, but still - it's the principle that counts?
On the way to my friend's house I was on the train and a small, frail, bent-double old lady fell down on the floor of the train. She couldn't get up without help. No-body moved an inch. She kept trying but men, women, young and old, all sat still staring into the mid-distance as if nothing was happening. It took a gaijin, me, to go over and help this little old lady up to her feet in the middle of a train carriage. No-one taught them what to do and say when a little old lady falls down in the middle of a train - so they don't move a muscle.
A couple of days ago I was on the train on the way to work and I realised something unusual was going on - I could hear people talking. This is very unusual. Normally, and I speak from experience, 200-300 people can be packed into a train carriage and you will usually not hear a word. Utter silence - apart from the clickety-clack of the trains on their rails and the earphone muzak. But here I was next to a North American mother talking to her 10-ish year old son, or less - I couldn't help overhearing, as they were next to me, and their non-stop conversation ranged all over the place, and included the meaning of government - what does government mean - what do they do, etc.
And I thought - how unusual - and I compared that 10-year-old to the 18 and 19 year olds that I confront every day, who usually list their hobbies as sleep, shopping and going to Disneyland, if that.
The other day I went to the Post Office to send some money to my bank account in England. There is a form to fill in: Name and address of sender of money - me, Japan. Name and address of receiver of money: me, Japan. Name and address of payer in of money - me, Japan. They couldn't handle this. An hour later and three, maybe four forms filled in in triplicate, we finally arrived at something which the bureaucrat could accept: Sender of money - me, my present address in Japan. Receiver of money - me, at my last address in Japan, in England.. So not only did I no longer live there, at that address in Japan, but clearly that Japanese address was not part of Britain - but nevertheless this surreal combination of nonsensities satisfied the screwed up version of reality that this particular Japanese bureaucrat felt he needed. Reality? Who needs reality?
Welcome to Disney-Japan.
Rant over.
