First Impressions

I’m staring at what I think is a milk carton, attempting to decipher the code of symbols. I am relying purely on the photo of a white liquid being poured into a glass. After studying Japanese on my own for the past six months I thought I would be prepared, but being unable to decide if the carton I’m holding is milk or some strange yogurt (or none of the above), I obviously have a long way to go.

It is my first night in Japan. I have been awake for almost twenty-four hours since my flight took off from San Francisco, but I am overloaded by the overwhelming sense that I have left Kansas and arrived somewhere completely new. I’ve landed in a textbook, and can prove at least one thing they taught us in school is true: Japan exists.

There are the bright neon signs and the giant television screens where anime characters are used for advertisement. Small cars are maneuvered on the left-hand side of the road. Even more I see people on jitensha, or bicycles, and more than once other foreigners in my group are nearly run over by them. Everywhere I see Japanese symbols and there is a distinct, unique smell I cannot identify tickling my nose. I am still figuring out the money system while clerks in the stores are bowing repeatedly to me as I check out.

I take off my shoes before I can enter the main dormitory, and I have to store them inside the shoe closet (which smells very much like sweaty feet). The dorm itself is cold since Japanese houses are not insulated, but the individual dorm rooms are kept warm with their own heaters. The heater itself is hard for me to understand, since it is not only in Japanese, but is adjusted in Celsius. We sleep on futons spread out on traditional tatami mats. I never imagined sleeping on the floor was so comfortable!

Generally, the people are very kind to us. There is a woman who owns an okonomiyaki shop next to our dormitory who ushered us into her shop when six of us stood outside, unsure if they had room. She made a table especially for us, and while she spoke no English, she was patient while I stumbled over the menu. After paying she handed each of us cute hand-crafted coupons for a 50 yen discount on our next meal (which is only about 50 cents back home…but who’s complaining?).

Most of the time I have no idea what is going on. It is a fantastically frustrating feeling. Enough people on my campus speak English, but I feel as though I have been invited to a party and someone locked the door so I can’t get in. I can only watch, and hope somehow I figure out a way to communicate ASAP—before everyone goes home. It is well worth the effort. There is certain finesse when speaking Japanese that I truly envy, a style that cannot be imitated with English.

These are my first impressions of Japan—no more, and no less. I write this with only one day of experience, and so I am not sure how valid any opinion of mine can be. The excitement of something new can only last so long before I will hopefully find what’s really here. The true culture of the Japanese is a mystery to me, but I am here for four months in order to learn. First thing is first…I need to learn how to find milk in a supermarket.