Part II: A few things I miss about the US and a few things I don’t really get about Jland. (Part I was 10 things that I really like.)
In no particular order (starting with the misses and ending with the “what?!”)…
- Pandora radio. Oh how I miss thee. I didn’t realize how I pretty much exclusively listened to Pandora until I got to Japan and couldn’t use it anymore (for copyright reasons or something).
- Qdoba, Panera, and many other restaurants (flavors, atmospheres, and prices).
- Mulch. I miss the smell and look of fresh, dark, damp, soft mulch.
- The cutsy girl way of saying “oishii!!!” (delicious) while their mouths are half-full. I see this all of the time on TV, hear it on the radio, and see friends do it. My suggestion: take bite. Chew. Swallow. Say, “This is delicious!” or something original without expectorating all over the place.
- Sakura tea. If I wanted to drink salt water, I’d swim in the ocean. To drink salt water with a few flower petals in it by choice is…not something that I get.
- Grouchy and lonely-looking old men. I used to think that grandpas, universally, were jovial friends (both in the US and Kosovo). Here – not entirely friendly. I have a lot to learn about masculinity in Japan (and the HUGE difference between generations with both genders).
- The sound at game centers and pachinko (“innocent” gambling-esque) places. Imagine cranked up electronic songs, instructions in high-pitched voices, and noises coming from dozens (if not hundreds) of games. Add flashing lights, cigarette smoke, and a running-away-Roberta. Seriously, even thinking about that atmosphere makes me wrinkle my nose and slump.
- Pantyhose. I went to a more formal event and wore nylons for the first time since…10th grade? Yuck. I see women just running errands wearing them, and I can thing of few things I would rather wear less.
- Aprons. I understand the practical side of them. But women wear them a lot. (I mean a lot a lot.) Like they walk around town in them. Japan has uniforms for everything, and I think some women wear their aprons as a uniform (“my place is in the kitchen”??). I know I’m overreacting, but I often want to squeak, “Take off your apron! You make it look like like feminism never happened!!”
As I’ve mentioned before, I wonder which of these will continue to grate and which ones I won’t even think about this time next year. Hm.
