Lioness in Japan

For those who may not know this Singlish term, tai tai, it means a lady of leisure. I halted a week’s worth of lessons, packed my bags and hopped on a plane with the kangaroo. I’ve been on many trips with him but this is our first together while he is working and I’m just in for the ride.

We’d have breakfast in the morning, after which, he’d head off to the office and I would take off to discover a new city.

That’s the sun rising over the Gangnam district, a fashionable business and entertainment hub (sort of like Ginza) in Seoul. The kangaroo had to wake up at dawn to work on something or call someone so I dragged my eyelids open to look at Seoul just coming to life — I felt it was going to be a day of cool sights and great food.

This is what they call a bulgogi dish — a beef soup ensemble. I was reminded of my North Asian looks and was greeted by many Korean service staff in rapid-fire Korean. I only knew, “Anyeong haseyo” (hello) and “Kamsa hamida” (thank you) but it was enough for being a tourist. To my relief, I could fall back on Japanese because most Koreans know at least a smattering.

On my way to this delicious lunch, I couldn’t help comparing Tokyo and Seoul. Seoul has buildings that are more spaced out but they have the same overall grey look.

And guess who I ran into?

I couldn’t believe Wentworth Miller is the face of Bean Pole — South Korea’s answer to Gap, perhaps — so I had to take a picture. I felt like a groupie. He does look cute here with his Michael Scofield intense gaze going on, but I have to admit the passionate fires have died down after more than a few kind friends have suggested he bats on the same side. Nothing less attractive than being a fag hag.

Today was my first foray into a tai tai luncheon. Well, not really, but most of the women who attended followed their partners to Japan, like me. But the similarities stop there.

Let me give you a bit of history here: Recently I started volunteering for a social work organization to do some proofreading for a book they are translating. It was interesting work and the coordinator in charge also organises events for foreign women and Japanese women who are married to foreign men. She asked me to join them for their monthly cooking class. I thought, “I like to cook and if I have something in common to talk to these women about — cool.”

I was all for it because I wanted to meet other women but in a more natural scenario. I am so totally over going to these expat events where you introduce yourself to strangers in a bar — it feels forced and you can’t really make friends because it feels like a rotating socializing wheel where everyone is hungry to talk to as many people as possible. Call it friends musical chairs at a frenzied pace. Plus, a spiel that involves a boyfriend gets you quickly dropped from the menu, let me tell you that. Or those “international parties” where most are on the FFF Hunt — Find, Fuck, Fuck-Off.

Back to my original story. So it wasn’t really a cooking class. The coordinators cooked for us. Today’s meal was okonomiyaki, which I like and was keen to learn. We sat at a long table and chatted. Some were regulars and some were new and who helped out in the proofreading project.

It was fun, don’t get me wrong. They brought out cans of beer which relaxed us all. But the topics of conversation revolved around children and international schools. One American lady, Erin, just got pregnant and another Japanese woman brought up a snippet about her experience giving birth in London, “They gave me champagne and wine with dinner everyday. Even the nurse was drinking on duty! In Japan, this is absolutely forbidden.” So this South African lady, Martina, was like, “Yes, just relax. Enjoy your pregnancy. I drank wine and ran till I gave birth.”

The anecdotes were hilarious by these spunky women but it was a world so alien to me. Which international schools are co-ed or single-sex? What Japanese food do kids like most? Kids pick up foreign languages like a sponge and all of them agreed their children speak better nihongo than them. Part-time work is the most they can cope with two tots and a busy corporate warrior hubby. The one thing I could relate to was that the kangaroo also travels three weeks in a month, and even when he is in Tokyo, he’s so busy, I hardly see him either. It was refreshing not to have people look at me in sympathy when they ask me where my man is.

In the end, I felt a bit strange — like I walked into a completely alien world of nappies, cars, morning sickness and babysitters. Weird.

Do they have a group for gals who are not married but have a significant other without kids who work freelance and have flexible hours?

I thought that a weekday update is long overdue. I tend to blog about my weekend adventures so perhaps let’s touch on what goes on in the shoebox in between.

Right now, I’m watching a language program — a Russian lesson in Japanese. Mind-boggling. I think if there’s a more difficult language than nihongo, it’s got to be Russian. There are two Russians who speak perfect Japanese and they are chatting with a Japanese lady who yammers flawlessly in Russian (well, not that I would know but she sounds like the Russians). Such language programs are very popular here. I heard that there are Italian, French, Spanish and English lessons on TV. In fact, I’ve seen computer instruction lessons and mathematics lessons, too. This is a country that loves to learn.

I don’t say that with any sarcasm because I realised, through my students, that many Japanese feel very isolated from the rest of the world. I assumed that the Japanese were happy the way they were but they actually feel left out and want to be involved with what’s going on out there.

As the clock ticked to 11pm, I returned from my last lesson in Roppongi. Mondays and Tuesdays are my most hardcore days where I start teaching at 2pm and finish at 10pm. I actually felt really hungry after and just hoovered some pizza and ice-cream. It’s after midnight and my resolve to jog everyday till my Nagano road trip on Saturday is strengthening every time I look at my satisfied tummy. :`(

Today, I just received my certificate for passing Level Three, or Pre-Intermediate Level, for Japanese. I felt a glow of pride — I made it. Nine months of daily lessons, four hours a day, Mondays to Fridays. I can understand 50 per cent of what’s on TV. Sometimes I even tune into Desperate Housewives in Japanese. Daily life is a breeze, though of course, I’ve my moments when I flub a little. For example, at Ebisu’s Bagel & Bagel, I asked for ice in my juice when she asked me if I wanted it for here or to go. Sometimes they speak so fast, I just rely on the “routine” or “order” of questions service staff ask. Okay, that’s cheating, but on peppy days, I make them say it again. Sometimes twice. Until they crack and speak to me in English but I’d stubbornly answer them in Japanese.

Had a great day as I think all my lessons fired away on time, on target and everyone enjoyed themselves methinks. Cheers to more of such days. On bad days, I get embarrassed for not knowing how to explain a word or phrase (for example, how do you explain a house cannot be equipped with a bus?), or my students would look at me with a perpetual quizzical look, or it feels hard to keep the conversation going. I have to think on my feet constantly and sometimes I longingly look at the time to make it go faster. Hopefully, it’ll get much easier.

I started with one student in February, three in March and now I have 23 students. It sounds like a lot but a handful always cancels so in any given week I have 16-20 classes which is an average of four a day, since I give myself a five-day week.

So that’s what’s going on in my life. I write freelance on the side, too, so busy days, indeed. I look forward to next week when I can just teach and recharge my batteries.

The kangaroo’s mum writes to me occasionally, but does so especially when she knows her son is away from the shoebox. Very sweet of her I must say.

The recent one offered me a couple of children’s rhyming books for my beginner students, plus a gust of encouragement about how I’ve managed to occupy my time productively in Tokyo, plus I don’t complain.

Well I do complain. Just a little. To myself. Or to friends. But just a moment of: Oh the kangaroo has been away for the past month and I’ve only seen him for four days.

But compared to when I first arrived I think I’ve leapt to the next level of self-sufficiency.

I still don’t have many friends but I like being alone. I found a tucked away cinema in Shinjuku to watch Stranger Than Fiction after a light chirasu rice bowl (sashimi on rice). After which I joined the mad crowd in Zara to buy a few pretty pieces of teacher clothes and then picked a sinful snack in Takashimaya’s food hall. I tried to look for my favourite ice-cream mochi (sticky rice-flour balls) but to no avail so I took my tired feet home and cooked dinner. I’m almost done reading Murakami’s Wind-Up Bird Chronicles, while re-runs of Kath & Kim tickle my funny bone in the last moments of wakefulness.

What I’m trying to say is, maybe solitude is really alright.

I finish work around 9 or 10pm these days. Exhaustion usually plagues me in the late afternoon and early evenings but once I get my second wind, I’m not ready to flop down on my futon by midnight.

It takes a while to unwind after a day’s work, doesn’t it? Working during other people’s after-hours gives me a strange schedule. Sometimes I have dinner at 530pm or if I’m not hungry, I’ll wait till 930pm. I hope I won’t put on weight because of such late meals but it usually keeps me awake, craving the company of the TV or a book or an MSN chat with a friend till after 1am or even to 2am.

Saturdays will now begin no later than 10am as I’ve to get my ass down to an 1145am class. I finish at 6pm but it’s a perfect arrangement for weekends when I don’t have much on.

Erasing years of 9am starts and midnight shutdowns on weekdays is a little more disorienting than I thought. But cheers to a new style of ebb and flow.

I killed my first cockroach. As I moved out of the parental home at a pretty late stage in life, I still go through stuff I’ve never done on my own. It was only a few months ago that I fixed my first lightbulb. The kangaroo had to teach me how to use the washing machine when I moved into his pouch in Singapore. Don’t worry, since then, I’ve been quite the domestic goddess.

Today, it was a disgusting critter that has been haunting the shoe box. Yesterday I spotted it scuttling around the fridge, so I left the door ajar for two hours, hoping it would escape.

This afternoon, this black ghoul was running up and down the wall next to the desk while I was pretending to focus on my Japanese homework.

I grabbed a plastic bag and slammed my fist on it. It didn’t die immediately. To which I screamed and screamed as it struggled without one leg — amputated by my clumsiness. Out of horror, I smashed it again and tossed it into a another plastic bag with a shudder.

It’s better this way….than to have this pest sculking around my futon at night. It’s moments like these I wish the kangaroo was around, but I’m not sure about how he deals with cockroaches. He’s not big on blood, but good with electronics.

I’m back in the shoebox. Shanghai was just fantastic. I love the energy this city exudes. I got absolutely trashed on both nights. I didn’t have time to shop but I preferred soaking in the sights than roaming the malls. I feel like I need to tell someone about my fabulous getaway but it’s too late to call anyone.

I was also glad the kangaroo and I spent some quality time together. When I see him again after being two or three weeks apart, I have to take a second look to make sure that he’s really there in the flesh (chuckle). He’ll return on Tuesday night as he has a business meeting tomorrow and be in town for his Tokyo birthday dinner. I need to think of a great restaurant to go to.

This trip was a bit of a turning point, too. For those of you who followed the Caroline drama in my old blog, you’ll be so disappointed to know there was absolutely no cat fight whatsoever when I met her again.

In fact, she was nice — and made small talk with no barbs. I think Mr. D had something to do with it because he was keen to meet her and dragged me along. By then I was so happily tanked on martinis and numerous mysterious test tube cocktails, I didn’t really care to be sulky. I was a little worried but i was more curious to see how our next meeting would be like.

Anyway, I doubt Mr. D would’ve asked me to go meet her if the situation was going to end up in disaster. It was in a thumping club so that helped, too. I don’t know if it’s too soon to say this, but I’m glad this Caroline thing is behind us as it did cause a lot of tension between us. I wouldn’t mind seeing her again. Honestly.

The best girlfriend I made so far in Japan has left Tokyo. I felt sad because I genuinely connected with Juleen. She’s from San Francisco and was here for a term to finish up her degree. Before Tokyo, she spent a term in Hong Kong.

She’s a gregarious personality who radiates warmth. She only moved here in Jan and we only said hello in Feb. She finally bumped into me again in March and a beautiful friendship began. Haha, she said the same thing and it’s a stolen line from Casablanca.

It’s rare to find a girlfriend who loves to jog and lives in the same apartment building as you. She ran really fast so I had to huff and puff to catch up. Friends who challenge you are worth keeping, I say.

Anyway, it’s funny how we are from vastly different countries but we think alike in many ways. We enjoyed exchanging stories over copious amounts of red wine. She loves to travel and she inspired me to explore towns outside of Tokyo. She pretty much hopped onto the Shinkansen almost every weekend of her stay here. She has probably seen more of Japan than I have in her three months here.

I hope to visit her and a coupla other friends in America next year. I always wanted to do a road trip on the greyhound but Juleen warned me against it. Alas, the greyhound is no longer a symbol of romantic escapades but one of poverty and crime. So single gal backpacking should not attempt the greyhound at all. She recommended the Green Tortoise, which is a bus tour group, that goes off the beaten track but still keeps schedules and food in order for you so it’s absolutely hassle-free. It costs only over USD1,500 for a month long trip, not including the air ticket. Is that doable or what?

Anyway, here’s to you Juleen. Thanks for making March and April a little bit more special.

I’m back in the shoebox and feeling amazingly relaxed. Reluctant to fly to Singapore, I am glad I did. I had a fun time and met with friends and loved ones. Perhaps it’s just what I needed because I found I was complaining more about Japan than appreciating the good things. Life felt like a never-ending uphill climb but a bit of sunshine was what the doctor ordered. Maybe I just needed to be assured I belong somewhere — that I could always return to Singapore if the worst-case scenario happened, be it as a success or failure. I feel a lot freer now. Thank you to all my lovelies who made this trip so worthwhile.

Sure, Tokyo seems like a challenging place to live in but have I tried to delve deeper? To discover its hidden treasures? Obviously not. I’m back to tuning into Japanese TV to let the language wash over me. I stopped that for a while because I had enough of listening to Japanese all day outside. What an ungrateful biatch I am! Haha. But I’m ready. I’m even looking forward to class tomorrow morning.

I braced myself for a dip in mood and I would miss my friends but I don’t. Well, not yet — I’ll always miss you dearies! As I jogged round the palace, I admired the vivid green the trees radiated even in the dusky light. The fresh spring air was so rejuvenating — it was so breezy today but it wasn’t chilly like in winter. Even a trip to the supermarket and tidying the shoebox felt new again. I guess it feels comforting to get back to my routine. Rested, bathed and well-fed, I’m in bed about to snuggle up with a book.

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On another note, my flight back has been rather pleasant. Even though my luggage was a good 7 kg overweight (who would’ve thought shoes weighed that much?), but I was waved through with a smiley warning, plus a great seat in the exit row. I was embarrassed to ask for an aisle seat after escaping excess baggage charges or the humiliation of handing over 7 kg worth of my stash to my mum. But the lady behind the counter gave me a top class seat in economy. I asked her: “Not a full flight today?” She replied: “No, ma’am. It’s very full.” I got 31A, then it dawned on me, the kangaroo’s fave seat is 31B.

Why was this the case? The kangaroo is a gold member with SQ and he booked my ticket via his FF points. Aah, VIP by association. He’d be pleased to know how powerful his gold card is. Haha. All that flying around has its perks! He was once late for a flight by three hours and flashed his card. What happened? He bumped someone else off a very overbooked flight. Poor bugger but the kangaroo was laughing all the way to his seat.

Sashiburi ne (It’s been a long time). I’ve been shite updating this beloved blog.

There’s been lots of potential work, actual work and ambien came to visit Tokyo. I wish I could’ve spent more time hanging out with her and her hubby. We ate yummy Jap food and spoke Singlish, which made me very happy. Haha. Unfortunately they were rained out on half of their trip and the poor things found it super cold. The week they were here was unusually chilly for spring.

Alas there has been more change and to be honest I’m struggling to understand what I want out of life. Perhaps there’s no point mulling over this too much and just do what I can for now. Have a little faith in things and people while being in a state of uncertainty. All I know is, this is my time to toughen up, forget about following safer roads, to take risks and to remain optimistic about it all. If I keep worrying about the future, I’ll ignore the wonderful present. My now is really not too bad. I kinda enjoy the travel opportunities that are available to me, thanks to my kangaroo pookiemun.

I didn’t realise how much I miss Singapore. The predictable weather to easy transport, warm and chatty folks, big apartments and cheap cheap food and shopping. Oh I just hoovered a curry puff from Old Chang Kee — foodgasmic. Sigh, I’m not going to try to cram in all the things I love to eat because it’ll just be impossible and I’ll likely end up with a troubled tum.

I just took a cab ride from Toa Payoh to River Valley — it was only SGD6.70. Okay, before I would think it was a fair rate but this amount is what I spend taking the train four times within a tight circle of no more than three or four stations apart in Tokyo. A small packet of brown rice is $0.55 from NTUC while it’s 900 yen for 2 kg of short-grained brown rice which I am frankly not so fond of.

Just now, I went crazy and loaded up on pre-mixes, tea (yes, camomile tea in Tokyo costs 500 yen or SGD6.50 for 10 bags!), cereal and toiletries (I got a huge pot of Pantene conditioner for SGD6 (1,000 yen in Tokyo); three super-sized packs of Watson’s cotton pads for only SGD4.50 whereas in Tokyo I have to pay 400 yen for a small packet). I only spent SGD100 for the load I brought home. Usually a basket of groceries in Japan costs me 5,000 yen (SGD65) and I shop twice or thrice a week, depending if the kangaroo is home or not.

Sorry this is probably not very interesting to Singaporeans but I’m amazed that six months away completely shifted my view of prices. I’m just wowing at how everything is so cheap here. No wonder so many people want to live here. But I can’t buy the experiences I’m having in Japan.

Will update on my visit back home and look out for my Kamakura day trip photos. When I return to Tokyo, I’ll have a full weeks’ worth of public holidays with only bits of work to attend to. I hope to head out of the city for some adventuring. PLUS, more blogging from moi.