How Japan puzzles me

After living in Japan for 5 months, you'd think that I've witnessed a lot of random stuff there, and that there wasn't much left that could surprise me. Stuff such as never passing stuff from person to person via chopsticks because that's what you do with a dead person's bones; not licking off the single grain of rice stuck to the side of your chopsticks because that's improper; being sure to turn your shoes around when you take them off when you visit someone's home; saying random phrases in specific situations, etc. Like i said, really random stuff. Perhaps the culmination of all weird stuff i saw in Japan was during my final week there, where I was in Hirosaki in Aomori Prefecture, where the few of us doing research there decided to visit a local arcade (because it was one of the only places in that rural town open past 4pm), and saw this:

That would be Jeff fishing for a giant shrimp at only 100 yen a play! Complete with preparation directions above the tank

Giant shrimp aside, there were other things that i observed and heard that I found counter-intuitive.
- My host mom asked me on my first day staying with them to avoid using the AC unless absolutely necessary because electricity expensive. Reasonable enough, right? I found it odd, however, that she'd be willing to dish out the extra money to keep two toilet seats in the house warmed 24/7. Maybe you're the type of person that doesn't like sitting on cold toilet seats, but personally, i find sitting on warm toilet seats reminiscent of the thought of, "Eww.. someone was just here..."
- As a soon to be Assistant Language Teacher in Japan, according to many orientations and emails from my predecessor, it is unacceptable to wear jeans to work. However, teachers often will dress nicely to work, then change once at school into track suits and wear them the whole day. Track suits! How are track suits more professional than jeans?!
- Women would rather buy cute high-heeled shoes that absolutely kill their feet, rather than flat, comfortable, non-attractive shoes. Whatever happened to health first?
- Most stores only sell women's shoes from size 22 to 24.5, which roughly translated i think, are sizes 5 - 8ish. So if you're one of the unfortunate souls whose shoe size is a 8.5 in America, you're not going to easily find shoes that are size 25 or higher without a hefty price, as only large department stores only carry those sizes at $100 or more (trust me, i've looked...@_@). Is Japan not aware that not every woman living in Japan is the size of a 12-year-old? There were definitely people I saw there who were taller than me who would need shoes larger than 25. Oh, and get this: sizes 25 and over are considered "Model sizes." What a laugh. I guess that means either 1) most models have big feet, and hence are probably taller, which according to the Japanese shoe system, makes about 2% of the population even eligible to be a model, or 2) I should be a model in Japan!

As if all that and other stuff in between wasn't odd enough, I was flipping through my JET Handbook today when i found more shocking stuff. Like what, you say? Like...
- "The place of honor in a car is the seat directly behind the driver. In the elevator, the rear left corner of the elevator (when looking in the elevator)."
- Regarding funerals: "At the wake, if there is a reception desk, offer your condolence gift consisting of cash in a special envelope or place it in the enamel tray next to the register and sign in. For funerals, giving old notes is symbolic of being caught unprepared for an untimely death."
- Regarding births (which i didn't know even though my host sister had a baby while i was in Kyoto): "Gift-Giving Tradition: Gifts (clothes, toys, cash) given 1-2 weeks after a healthy baby's birth. Gift-Returning Tradition: A simple gift (wooden bowl or cup) with the baby's name on it, or a thank you note. Comments: Make sure the baby has been born healthy before giving a gift." Uhm, what if it's not born healthy? It doesn't deserve presents?? *looking around*...
- Regarding hospital visits: "Gift-Giving Tradition: Cut flowers, books etc. Don't give plants (their roots imply a long hospital stay) or camellias (the way the blossoms drop reminds Japanese people of death)." What?!!

While that's all that i can find for now, I'm sure there'll be even more oddities as i learn my way around the sticks. Stay tuned for more puzzling random customs of the Japanese (^^)v

I'm in the mood to put up wedding pictures!

Morning of the wedding: me on only 4 hours of sleep

My attempt at an artistic photo. In the back: the makeup artist working on my sister's hair

The makeup artist perfecting my sister's makeup

One of my favorite pictures. Earl and my dad, the fathers of the groom and bride, before the festivities begin

The best man, Ford (the groom's nephew), and me, the maid of honor

At the Tea Ceremony: the bride and groom giving relatives tea, and in return, they [usually] receive money or some sort of gift


My dad concentrating much too hard on what i think *should* be the easiest job in the wedding party


So my sister met Loren at her first job out of school at a biotech company called Lynx. While they were working there, they both met Francesca, and since the three of them are good friends, they made her the chaplain at the wedding. You can see her working hard in the picture above =)


Me giving my toast


... followed by my brother giving his

My parents getting a good laugh out of their attempt to dance

The bride and groom, Lana and Loren

Perhaps the best picture I've ever seen of my maternal grandmother

me, my sister, and my mom

If only I could look like this everyday ;D


Before the cake cutting. My sister in her Chinese dress


Seriously, my sister hired the best DJ ever. He played music that everyone would know, and was smart enough to lure everyone onto the dance floor by starting out with some 70s music (ie. Bee Gees - Saturday Night Fever), and just played some really fun, non-annoying songs. Here we are dancing the night away following the reception (getting jiggy to the YMCA). I dont know if you can tell, but I have this huge look of satisfaction on my face. Could be from the quality music the DJ was playing. Most likely it was from the thought that we successfully married my sister to a really great guy *sniffle*

Sweet Victory

After what's felt like an eternity, I've finally done it. I've finally managed to convince my sister to move her clothes out of the closet in my room. Victory!

Since I was about 5, I've shared a room with my sister in my San Bruno home. Needless to say, two girls can acquire a lot of stuff over the course of 18 years. Now, she lived in that room by herself when we first moved in, so she's had a longer claim to the room than I. Plus the fact that we're 8 years apart, she had more personal possessions and clothing than I when i was 5. Long story short, the closet in our room has always been "her closet."

I think back in November of 2003, she moved to San Jose with her fiancee at the time. She and Loren have been living there ever since, slowly acquiring furniture and all the necessities of a real home. Even though they have a 3 bedroom home and each of them have their own storage bedrooms complete with closets in each to store all their junk, my sister has not moved the other third of her wardrobe out of the closet in my room. That is, until this past Sunday.

Since moving in back home after graduation, i've been struggling to figure out where to put all my clothes. A few years ago, my parents bought a wardrobe for all of my stuff since my sister left no room for me in the closet. When i took a look at my wardrobe upon moving back home, it was stuffed with my dad's shirts. Fine, i'll put my stuff in my sister's closet. Right? Wrong. That was stuffed with my brother's clothing. An hour later, I shifted everyone's clothing to their own closets to make room for my own. However, since i lack drawers, i sadly still haven't emptied out my giant garbage bags full of my clothing. In a conversation with Jonny last night:

Me: Sadly, I still have all my clothes in the blue garbage bags. And it's not even the light blue bags. It's those bright blue bags that make it obvious when you pass by my room that "hey, she's got garbage bags in her room."
Jonny: Wait, what about your laundry?
Me: What?
Jonny: What do you do about your freshly washed laundry? Do you fold them up and put them back in the garbage bags?
Me: *sigh* Yeah.

Anyway, on Sunday, my sister came home for dinner, and afterwards, i marched her over to our closet, presented her with two bags (one for her, one for charity), and asked her to empty out her clothing. She was actually really cooperative, which is surprising considering she had said an hour earlier that she was leaving. "If you're so willing to do this now, why didn't you move your clothes out earlier?" To which she replied, "Because mom didn't want me to." Regardless, she got out the majority of her clothes, but still has a few piles to go.

The next day, i was eating dinner with my family when I realized something, which i promptly told my dad: "It's taken her 9 months to finally do as I asked her on her wedding day," in reference to my toast at her wedding back in October. I thought it was amusing, but my parents didn't seem as excited about her moving out the last of her clothes from my room. At which point, my dad said, "You know, it's sometimes a good thing to leave some clothes back at home in case she ever decides to come back."

"Uhm, she's been moved out for 3 years now. Don't you think she's decided by now that she likes Loren enough to spend the rest of her life with him?"

"Well, to her, leaving her clothes here could be a sign of ties back to here. If she moves all her stuff out, it's as though she's breaking all her ties with her family, which we don't want."

"But knowing her, leaving clothing at home isn't because she wants to maintain ties at home. It's because she's too lazy to fill up her own home with junk."

I do have to admit though, my dad brought up a good point. Does leaving our junk at home secretly mean for us that we belong there? That home is where our stuff is? Is it an excuse to go home every now and then? To retrieve this and that? As much as our parents complain and nag us to clean up or throw out our stuff, do they deep down want our stuff there to reassure them that we remember them? Is it mutually welcomed bait for us to go home? Would our parents feel abandoned or forgotten if we moved all of our stuff out of their house? Think about it. Feel free to comment on it -- I'd be interested to hear/read your thoughts.

Finally, in reference to my wedding toast earlier, I'm attaching it below because I'm so dang proud of it. I practiced that thing for countless hours, executed it perfectly, and to this day, can still say the whole thing word for word (yes, i know i'm a nerd). Enjoy!

My sister (the bride), and me, the maid of honor (and only bridesmaid)

"Hello everyone and thank you for coming today. My name is Evelyn and I’m Lana’s little sister. Coming from a family of only three kids, two of which are girls, in a 3 bedroom home, naturally, the daughters will share a room. Soo, Lana was my first and longest running roommate. Now, since there’s an 8-year difference between us, we were always experiencing different things at different times. For example, I’d want to play Monopoly or UNO, and she’d just want to finish her Physics homework.

But despite all that, we both grew up. I went to high school, she graduated from college and started a new job. I was learning Algebra, and she was getting to know who would become the fine gentleman sitting next to her today.

I can’t quite remember my first occasion meeting Loren, but I do remember my first impression: “Wow. He loves Biology.” But joking aside, over the past few years, I’ve come to see what a good match they make. And after living with them every other day last summer, I’ve also seen the cozy home they’ve made for themselves, and I couldn’t be happier for them.

So, to Loren: Welcome officially to the family!

And to Day-Day: From the days of “Evelyn, get me my slippers,” to “Evelyn, let’s go shopping!” to “Evelyn, you want to be my bridesmaid,” thank you for being my first best friend, and for always watching over and taking care of me. Now please move your stuff out of my closet☺

To a long, happy, fruitful marriage! Cheers!"

My Big Backyard

Yesterday, for the first time since i've graduated, i actually extended the effort to exercise. Yay me! I decided to run around my neighborhood, quickly forgetting that i live on the only flat road in my suburban paradise. everywhere surrounding me are hills, and lucky for me, to get anywhere away from my house, that means travelling up steep inclines first. I ended up getting winded on steep hill #2 as usual. Someday, i'm going to conquer that hill. I really will. Perhaps when i'm in shape.*sigh* after getting past consecutive steep hill #3, i finally arrived at my old Chinese school, which faces a former high school in my district, but for as long as i can remember, has not been used. It would have been perfect though, as getting up there is only a 10 minute walk. When i was little, i'd often bike up there with my brother, and together, we'd circle the school for a while. He, trying to be the cool guy he thought he was, would try making me race him down very long straight lanes in the back of the school, attempting to simulate a drag race he wasn't old enough (or dumb enough) to participate in, as he didn't have a driver's license at the time.

It wasn't until I got up to the school that i realized how long it really had been since i had walked around that area. I stopped going to Chinese school sophomore year of high school, but on occasion will run past it. But this abandoned high school... I think the last time i stepped foot on the campus was at least middle school if not even before that. I realized how similar its construction was to my high school, and couldn't help but wonder how many people in my area still remember what it was like to go to school there.. have it as their home for the 4 years before their cliques broke up as they each parted ways to pursue higher education or otherwise. It was kinda deja vu-ish. It had the familiarity of home even without my ever truly entering it. Odd.

After my run, i made my way back home, but this time different from all my other runs in the past. I actually slowly made my way home, carefully looking at each of the homes on my block for the first time since high school. Even though i went home every now and then while i was in college, i never really appreciated my neighbors' homes. Had i taken a look sooner, i would have seen how different the face of my street is from the days of my childhood. My first best friend was named Renee, and she and her family lived at the end of my block (my house is pretty much in the middle of the block). I played at her house countless times during my childhood, and most of my fond memories of my street surround playing with her and her sister. However, she and her family moved away just after 4th grade, and with her departure, my frequency of playing outside and visiting her end of the street. Since then, the new family that lives in her home has repainted the outside of the house, planted new trees, replaced the shutters, and countless other things that just make the house look different than it used to. It's no longer reminiscent of the peeling off-white paint it once had on its walls.

As i progressed closer to my home, i looked at the other houses. Across the street from Renee's house was the policeman's home. he has 3 kids and i can't even keep track of how old they are now. his youngest was probably 4+ years younger than me, but at any rate, they've completely painted their house too. and the house next door to them. and the house next door to that, where one of my classmates from elementary school used to live. i'm not sure if he's still living there, but when my family moved in back in '88, his family was already there. the house across the street from them also was repainted a few years back, and yet another one of my classmates lives there (yeah, 3 of us in the same year within a 4 house radius from one another. go figure).

As i kept walking down the street, i noticed really drastic changes from the image i still have from my childhood. cars parked in front of homes, house trims, house colors, shrubbery, floral colors... so many things have changed, yet i've never really let myself take it in.

As if this rude awakening wasn't enough, once i got home, i was still pretty hot from my run, so i decided to walk around my backyard for a bit to cool down. goodness -- even my backyard has changed without me knowing. when i was still little (sizewise), i would bike around on my [at the time] kickass purple bike. and really, i'd do it for hours. i just remember the backyard being juuuust big enough for me to be able to keep up my momentum. Now, i'd say on average over the last 8 years, i've probably stepped outside onto my backyard about twice a year. and that's being generous. i generally never go out the backyard, because there's really nothing out there for me to do. there's a lot of dead grass, funny looking fruit trees, dirt, and squirrels; and that's about it. mostly the only reason why i'll go out there is for a bbq when my dad fires up his grill once or twice a year.

I walked around the corner of the house to where my bedroom window faces the backyard. And for the first time, i noticed that the huge shrub that would always grow so tall that my dad would have to keep trimming it because we'd be unable to see outside my window without the shrub obstructing the view, was cut down pretty far. in fact, i wouldn't really call it a bush or shrub anymore. maybe a stick and a couple of leaves is more appropriate. I hadn't really thought about how much that bush/shrub reminded me of when i was little and my sister still hadn't started college yet. she'd make a point of opening the drapes each day so we'd have natural sunlight in the room, but we'd always see the shrub peeking into our room. now the shrub is no more and my sister in my room is no more. oh how time flies.

despite all this nostalgia running through my head, the biggest surprise came last. As i headed out of my backyard, i saw a cluster of 3 plums sitting on top of the dirt at the bottom of the steps of our raised garden area. And then it hit me. Why it was i loved summer so much when i was younger. The plum tree. I loved that plum tree. Every summer, it have bountiful fruits just dropping everywhere. and then there were the times that my dad and i would use his homemade plum-picker to get the ripe looking plums higher up on the tree. That tree was enormous. it was so big that a good portion of it would umbrella over our neighbor's yard, so every summer, they'd be eating our plums too. We had so many plums that the moment we picked them, we'd have to put them in bags and give them away to neighbors, family, friends, etc. Those were truly glorious summers. There'd be this rotating pattern of tons of plums, many but not as many plums the next year.. my brother and i would try to predict how many plums there'd be that year relative to the year before... And speaking of my brother, that reminds me of plum pits. you know, the huge seed in the middle. So birds were always the enemy. The goal was always to get to the good fruit higher up in the tree before the birds could, because birds would peck at the best fruit once or twice, then abandon that plum and start pecking at another one. So by the end of the week, there'd be this huge collection of shiny, ripe fruit on the floor of the tree... but when you turned it around, there'd be a huge hole from where the birds would have pecked at them. darn those birds. anyway, a lot of times, the pits would fall down too if the fruit never reached full term, so my bro, in attempt to be athletic and abuse his big brother powers, would make me pitch plum pits to him as he used his favorite stick as a bat (probably a good 3 feet long) to try to hit the pits over our fence and onto the hill that lies beyond my backyard. Ah yes. Those were the days. But what happened to the plums? A few years ago, my dad had to cut down a part of it because the tree was dying/dead. Now only about half of what i remember that tree being remains. There are still some fruits, but we're lucky to get very many that birds haven't claimed for themselves first. I actually walked up to where the tree stands, and for the first time since at least middle school, i took a good look at the tree's branches. whereas ten years ago i was plotting a way to somehow climb onto the branches so i could sit there and read (it always a little bit too high for me to attempt to climb), today, the branches are covered in moss. many of the branches come to a sudden stop where my dad had the tree cut. there aren't nearly as many plums littering the tree floor anymore. And then something else struck me. There was this feeling of openness in the backyard that i never felt before. That's when i realized that it was due to the neighboring tree being completely gone. You see, back when i still played in the backyard, all the trees were big and dominating, and my parents had such an extensive garden that there were trees and plants were forming elegant and colorful walls everywhere you turned. however, i dont think el nino treated our backyard well at all, and life in the back of the house has never been the same since. between the missing tree, a large portion of the plum tree gone, and the shrub outside my window diminished to hobbit size, there's a feeling of a lot more open space... the sky is more visible.... but consequently, the backyard feels more desolate and less thriving with life.

And as i sit here in retrospect, i see now what people mean by our childhoods flying by. Sadly, i'm slowly seeing how growing up means going out into the unknown and unexpected. As much as i want them to, things wont stay the same forever. People will come and go from my life. Neighbors will move out and new ones will move in. Others around us will seemingly grow older, only for us to slowly come to terms with the fact that we ourselves are growing older too. My days of running around on Renee's front lawn with her and her little sister in our bathing suits through the sprinklers are past. I won't ride my bike up and down the street with Lisa from up the street anymore. Days of my father asking me, "which one should i pick?" and me pointing at the ripest plum i see and him getting them down for me because i was too short and too small to handle the plum-picker have past. Houses have lost their old coats and donned new ones, while i still have yet to shed my old skin. i still wander around believing that time hasn't passed at all. But alas, my time has come. I have no more school to use as an excuse to delay adulthood. I'm stuck on a never-ending conveyor belt that doesn't let me walk backwards, shuttling me onto the next phase of my life already when again, i haven't acknowledged much less accepted the fact that the past can't be relived. Despite the fact that i'm sad that my youth has come to an end, i know i have a lot to look forward to. Life doesn't just freeze frame. That's why we have to keep moving, and with it, keep up our optimism that there is something more exciting up ahead. Even though we should look ahead, i also believe that we should cherish memories that mean a lot to us. What we love, after all, is what makes us all unique and who we are. Even though now, when i stand next to my plum tree, it seems a lot smaller than i ever remember it being, and the rest of my backyard seems to be smaller as well, the image i'll recall in my mind will be the backyard that made me happy. My big backyard of my childhood.