Spring in Japan

I am an admittedly miserable git in the winter in Japan. It's cold here. There's no such thing as central heating. It gets dark before 5PM. And it's cloudy all the time. Then one day the blossoms come out. And the sun. And it warms up. As do I!

OK, I'll try to keep this one short. Not my usual long winded spiel. These pics speak for themselves. You can see what it's like around where I live.

First, here are a few pics from my balcony. You can see my cool made-in-china balcony table where I'll have my morning espresso. And it's just warm enough in the morning to start doing that.

Pictures not enough? OK, here are 33 seconds in living colour.

One thing I love about my apartment is that it's long and fairly narrow -- basically the same design as the short 5-storey one in this next picture. Which is basically the same as 99% of other "danchi" (団地) in Japan. I have windows on both sides, so I get direct sunlight from sun up to sun down.

Anyway, this next pic is from the other side of my place, from the bedroom window. The high rise buildings in the back are quite new and nice. It's like New York at night -- all lit up and gorgeous. So even with my low rent, I get a great view. They, however, do not. In spite of their high rent, they have to look at our plain-Jane danchi. I think I definitely have the better deal here.



And now a few perspective shots. These are from the road below my apartment. The first one is just a shot of the sakura trees. And the other pic is looking up at my apartment. I'm on the top floor on the leftmost end.

If you've never seen Japan in spring, think about taking a few days stop over next time you're flying over us. It's a fun place to visit!

My permanent residence visa...GOT IT!

After 5 long months of wondering "Will I get it???", I got the call today from my immigration lawyer. I got my permanent residence status!! Booya! For those not familiar with the life of a gaijin in Japan, this is a HUGE deal. It means you are free to do what you want. You are no longer tied to an employer just for the sake of a visa. You can open a business. You can get a loan on the same conditions as a Japanese national. But mostly, it's just the peace of mind knowing that you no longer have to go through the visa renewal process ever again. It makes Japan your home.

OK, without any further ado, here is the visa.

This makes it official. I got the call from my immigration lawyer today. I went in, paid the remaining balance of 25,000yen (about $250) owed to their office (you only pay in the case of getting the visa), and I went next door to immigration and got the permanent residence status stamp on my passport. My shiny, new "Eijyuken" 永住権 stamp (永＝forever 住=live 権=right). Domo! Otsukare!

OK, I've been here 17 years, paid my taxes, kept the same job the entire time, and haven't done anything illegal, so I'm not surprised that I got it...but I am relieved. The immigration office is notorious for refusing people with no explanation. Also, the average time it takes to get the visa is something like 10 months to a year. Mine was 5 months, almost to the day. So it was quite fast. And well timed, because I was about to go and reapply for my normal work visa on Friday. The only bad news is that when I applied for the tax papers I needed, they found that I had missed paying a certain part of my taxes for a year – an honest mistake on the part of the city hall office – to the tune of almost $5,000. That hurt a bit. But I got my visa, so I still think it was worth it. Who's kidding who, you gotta pay taxes anyway, right?

Well, since this visa really doesn’t change much for me, there’s no point in going on about it. I just wanted to share the good news. So now on to the more important information -- about the application procedure in case any other hopeful gaijin are reading this with the intent of getting their Eijyuken. Here's the story of my application ordeal…

First, before you start, let it be known that the amount of paperwork involved in applying for the Eijyuken is significant, and it's all in Japanese. I'd heard from friends who had it that the actual application was easy to do, but I hate hassle, and I didn't want to take a chance of screwing up, so I applied via an immigration lawyer. I'm glad I did. If you are applying, I'd recommend you do the same. The initial fee was 25,000 yen (about $250) and I paid the same again today. I think it was worth every yen. Even assuming I had no problems (which I did, see below), having to go into the immigration office and get the Japanese forms explaining what I need, then trying to hunt that stuff down without guidance would have been annoying and challenging, even for a guy with the Level 1 Japanese proficiency (which, as it turns out, I have).

What really makes the law office worthwhile is the insider information. They know exactly what the immigration people look for -- particularly about tax documentation. As it turns out, there was a small problem with mine. It seems that for 1 year the city hall had not collected my city tax off of my paycheck. This required further forms, plus a letter that city hall wrote for me explaining that this was entirely their fault, and I was in no way responsible for the screw up. But that was an expensive letter, as I had to pay half of my outstanding 430,000 yen tax bill in one shot to get it. Then I kissed a good chunk of my last royalties check goodbye in February to pay the rest. Leggo my money, yo!

In any case, going through the law office was exactly the right thing to do. I never would have finished the application had it not been for the guidance I got from them. Plus, the guys I dealt with were super nice, spoke fluent English, and became good enough friends that I'm taking them out for beers next week to celebrate. The office I went through is the one beside the immigration office at the Chiba City Hall in Chiba Minato. I think they are about the cheapest in Japan, so if you live in Chiba, Hi-5s all around. If you live in Tokyo or other prefectures, you need a slightly bigger piggy bank.

And now, for other foreigners thinking of doing their residence visa, here's a rundown of what you need. Note that in addition to your own forms, you also need to ask a gainfully employed Japanese national to be your "guarantor" (保証人). I am lucky to have an amazingly cool Japanese buddy who did this for me. It's asking a lot -- they have to reveal all their tax information to you. So Masa, I am going to take you out for major beers and all the 焼肉 you can eat for this one, bro!

From the guarantor:
1. Their proof of citizenship
2. A certificate of employment
3. One copy of their most recent earnings statement from work. Just one year
4. A form the guarantor must sign saying how they know you

From you (required)
1. Your alien registration card ("gaijin card")
2. Proof of current employment (from employer)
3. A copy of your earnings statements report for the last 3 years (from employer)
4. A copy of your citizen's tax form for the last 3 years (from city hall/city tax office)
5. A copy of your payment of tax forms for the last 3 years (from city hall / city tax office)
6. A copy of your bank account balance or other proof of current wealth level
7. Passport

Other documents (optional, but suggested)
1. A letter stating your reasons for requesting the visa. Good time to show commitment to community and Japan.
2. Your Japanese proficiency certification
3. A copy of any degrees or other qualifications

And if you need this stuff in Japanese, here it is:
身分保証人から：
１．住民票
２．在職証明書
３．源泉徴収票または、住民税課税証明書
４．本人と保証人の関係の説明書

本人から（必要）
１．外国人登録証明書
２．在職証明書
３．源泉徴収票(３年分)
４．住民税課税証明書（３年分）
５．住民税納税証明書（３年分）
６．遺産の証明：残高証明書、通帳コピーなど
７．パスポート

本人から（追加）
１．本人が書く説明書。永住権を申し込む理由、日本においての貢献などの説明。
２．日本語能力試験結果書
３．修士課程などの卒業書のコピー

So what does all this paperwork look like?

Good luck!!

As for me, no more visas, baby! Time for a few drinks!

NO REGI BUKURO

Japan is always said to be a land of contradiction. Foreigners also often say that they feel that Japanese society is a bit cold. Well, I found an example of both while going through the checkout at the local supermarket... No Regi Bukuro!!

Yesterday I stopped by the fairly large supermarket on my way home to get a few things. While waiting for the checkout, I saw a woman in front of me take a small cardboard sign, about 10cm X 8cm. and put it on top of her shopping basket. Hmmmm....what could that be, I thought. This is what it was:

The blue lettering at the top says "No Regi Bukuro"...ie, No plastic bags! Then in white, it says, "For customers who do not need plastic bags, please put this card in your cart." It's to promote the "My bag" notion of people bringing their own cloth shopping bags to reduce plastic use. I applaud this effort from a country that loves packaging. As an example, if you buy a package of cookies, each one will be individually wrapped in plastic. Several will be put into a larger plastic package, and several of these are put on a hard plastic tray. These are then packaged with the brand package. And all of this typically ends up in a plastic shopping bag. So by at least eliminating the shopping bags, they are 1/6th closer to reducing plastic waste. Kudos!

Now for my usual armchair critic opinion of this...

First, I think it's a nice example of contradiction in Japan. Not because of what they are doing, but because of how they are doing it. I mean, why create a dozen of these cards for each cash register -- using paper and plastic and paint -- for every cash register in every major supermarket in Japan? If people don't need bags, all they have to do is say, "No bags, please." Instead, they are reducing plastic in order to make more room in the incinerators for these cards. "Let's reduce garbage by making more." Ok, the cards are not used on the same scale, I admit. But the contradiction still exists, as does the foolishness of whoever created cards when all people have to do is say "No."

Which brings me to a small insight into Japanese communication. The cards are not at the front of the queue -- they are right at the register. In fact, you almost have to ask the check out girl to move your basket in order to take one and put it in your basket as she's already removing items and checking them. It's nice to know that Japanese people are equally cold to their own, and not just to the foreign community. I've been going to to the same sports club every week for the last 2 years, and still they greet me as if it's the first time they've ever seen my face. But they do that to the Japanese customers, too.

Interestingly, when teaching this kind of "transactional" language in English, corpus studies show that just as important as the language needed to shop is the language needed to small talk, as friendly interactions are a part of daily community life, even between strangers. I've found this to be true pretty much everywhere I've ever travelled. This shopping card device is almost an institutional encouragement NOT to be friendly, and NOT to interact verbally.

Never a dull moment in Japan, kids!

For the record, I would say that Japanese society is cold, not the people. As an example, a student of mine got a job at a family restaurant near the university, "Big Boy." I was in there for a few hours working on my computer late at night and watched the manager teach her how to serve customers. She had to repeat a highly formalized and ritualized set of utterances -- no room for smiles or anything but business. And she must have done it about 200 times. At school, she was a fun and friendly person. Lots of smiles. But to customers, she's a drone. As with a lot of service personnel, she's been more or less brainwashed that there's no place for civility in a business transaction.

I hope this will change soon!! I could use with a few more smiles when I'm shopping :)

How to wash your butt in Japan

Japan is famous for using English in ways that have no meaning in advertising and on T-shirts. While this Japlish is funny, I find myself more interested in examples of correct English grammar.

To quote a once-famous TV commercial, "You've come a long way baby!" When I first arrived in Japan, finding a grammatically correct English sentence was about as likely as finding a good espresso. They just didn't exist. Everything was a bastardized form of English known as Japlish. There are plenty of sites out there that contain some hilarious examples.

Things have changed since then. Every year more signs, menus, instructions are at least grammatically correct. But I still find them pretty hilarious. For instance, I got a kick out of these explanations at a "washlet" toilet in Narita International Airport. For those of you who have never been to Japan, a washlet is a toilet with a heated seat and a rocket-ship control panel beside it that allows you to shoot warm water to clean your bum (you can, of course, control the temperature). You can then turn on an air dryer that dries you off. No chafing, no fuss, no muss. It's like a car wash for your ass.

Anyway, I found the explanation hilariously literal, especially the "washing the rear" and "rear washing stopped." It's quite typically Japanese to give too much information, to the point where it's almost insulting. Great vocabulary choices, however.

Advertising has also changed. (Almost) gone are the days of strings of "feel good" words like, Fuzzy furry bunnies we are love to everyone with happy dream. Now you can read complete sentences. But it still maintains a certain Japanese flair to it. Like, f'rinstance, this can of chu-hai. Chu-hai is a mix of Korean sho-chu alcohol with some kind of fruit mix. Yes, it's a bit foofy, but they go down as easy as fruit juice, and I can count it as a serving of fruit, as they have grapefruit chunks in them. Efficiently intoxicating!

While the main slogan was fine, "Enjoy the refreshing real Japanese taste," I found the subtext on the "Samurai Chu-Hi" to be pretty chucklatious: "A samurai never breaks his word." The implication here is that if you drink this, you will have all of the character and integrity of a Japanese Samurai. And all the marketing savvy of an company that puts their most ethnically distinctive label on a can of Korean alcohol. Kudos!


OK, now that I'm writing all this here, it's lost its initial humorous impact, which probably means I was already efficiently intoxicated when I read it and decided it worthy of being put up on the Internet. I'll try to find something a bit more refreshingly real to post next time around.

STOP THE PRESSES!

OK, I think I spoke too soon. Here's a sign from the bathroom in the city hall building. Looks like they have a ways to go still.

And shortly after leaving city hall, I went to Starbucks where a girl was wearing a sweatshirt with: Grammatically perfect, but still wackily Japanese.

Ravishing Virgins Are of The Same Mind

A perfect candidate sentence to prove why Chomsky's Transformational Generative Grammar is bullocks.

Japanese Taxes: What do I get for my tax yen?

I recently complained in a blog entry about the huge waste of taxes being used to support an amazingly inefficient public sector. And so it was an ironic turn of events when I found myself seeing the benefits of my taxes even as I was on my way to pay a late tax claim.

In a recent blog entry I tore a strip out of the inefficiency of the Japanese public sector. Having to watch 11 people getting paid to do one address change for me was just too annoying to ignore. So you can imagine my frustration when I got my notice a few months ago that the Oami tax office had neglected to take almost $5,000 of taxes from my pay a few years ago. I found out this gem when I was in getting the papers I needed to apply for my permanent residence visa. There's nothing quite so infuriating as paying a lump sum of cash at an office where half of the staff is chatting, slurping noodles at their desk, and mistakes are made at every turn.

But then I had a small revelation. And it came, rather coincidentally, when I was taking out money to pay this very tax bill. How much money? Well, as shown in the photo, it was about $2,500 (￥250,000) for this installment. Is this a lot of money? No, not in Japan. What is notable about this photo is that it is not a check or a bank transfer. It’s cash. Cold, hard cash that I withdrew from a convenience store ATM. At midnight, no less. And I put it in my wallet and walked home. Alone. Can you imagine doing that in any other country in the world? I certainly can’t. Not without an armed escort, anyway. But in Japan, walking around with cash is no problem because Japan is so safe.

Ok, I admit. I was careful when I took the money out, thanks to my residual paranoia from being raised in a country where most people won’t even walk around with $250 in their wallet, let alone $2,500. So I made sure that the 7-eleven was mostly empty when I took out the money, and I did keep an eye on one guy who happened to be walking about 100m behind me. But mostly what was on my mind was, "Holy shit! I would NEVER do this in another country." It was a reminder that Japan is safe. It's so safe that I don't even think about it. Indeed, if you asked a Japanese person what are the "safe" and "unsafe" parts of Tokyo, I don't think they could give you an answer. Every place is safe. At least out on the streets. A lot of people seem to knife and hack their family and neighbors up in the privacy of their own home, but if you're walking in public, you can do so with no worries.

So I suppose in the end, I have something to be thankful about my tax money, or at least for having chosen to spend most of my adult life in Japan. In fact, it was really painful paying this tax bill. But I have to remember that I'm not just paying for the salary of the guy with the 60s' hairdo picking his nose over his noodles at his desk, I'm also paying for a system that allows me to work in a safe and secure environment. And you can't put a price on safety. So thanks for that one Japan. I owe you.