While it doesn’t at first seem like it should be interesting, for the first few weeks I was in Japan I was just amazed by every little thing. Japanese stoplights are exciting (they’re horizontal!). Ultra-advanced cell phones are exciting (although they’re behind on the mp3 player trend). Coin-operated bike racks are exciting. Hot drinks in vending machines are exciting. Everything is exciting! It wasn’t bad enough that I took pictures of every little thing, fortunately, but I’ve known people to go down that road.

Anyway, I’ve since calmed down and settled into a routine. Since I live in the suburbs, I get the feeling that I’m actually getting the everyday life experience (as opposed to the kids living in Roppongi, which is basically Tokyo’s foreigner party district).

My day starts at around 6:30 every morning. I have to get up that early in order to have enough time to do my thing, eat breakfast, and catch an 8-something train. The shower is a particularly special experience, although I don’t use it the way everyone else does. You’re supposed to sit on a small stool and soap down/shave/whatever you do, first, then rinse off and soak in the extremely hot bath for a little while (everyone has to use the same water, so you’d better hope the people before you were clean). I don’t have time for this, unfortunately, but the room can be transformed easily into a shower.

I get in a good twenty minutes of children’s TV programming over a traditional breakfast (a bowl of hot rice with a raw egg cracked over it and some soy sauce, hopefully with miso soup on the side) before I have to run. On that note, milk here is actually half-and-half, if you’ve ever had it. Please try some over your breakfast where possible. Anyway.

I walk about twenty minutes to the train station, because the bus is a hassle and costs money. On my way I pass a lot of neatly uniformed high school students and business people who seem to have never seen a foreigner in their lives. There I meet up with a friend for an hour and a half of commute. We only get to sit if we don’t get on the express train, so our choice is generally made by how much homework and how much sleep we managed the night before.

The local train is nice, but I recommend riding the express just once or twice. They actually pay people to push everyone into the train so the doors can close; there is no breathing room, and people will begin to hate you for your large backpack. Stopping at each station is a lot of fun, especially when everyone falls over onto everyone else. Girls, however, should watch whom they stand next to. Butt-grabbing is not above your average businessman. Your defense is to have your cell phone out, because they will be afraid of you taking their picture in the act. Also, if you are being stared at by anyone, do not act uncomfortable. Stare back. The person will stop almost immediately. Works like a charm.

We debark in Tokyo, for another twenty-minute hike through suburbia. On escalators, you will find that in most places, a set of stairs will be accompanied by an escalator—sometimes there won’t even be stairs. In Japan, people drive on the left side of the street, walk on the left side of the side walk, and stand on the left side of the elevator. Do not stand on the right if you don’t want to make people very, very angry and huffy with you.

And then, we finally arrive at school, a little after ten. Packages from home are a godsend, so frequent mail-checking is a staple of the day. After mail call, we spend a morning in Japanese or Japanese culture, depending on the day, where every little detail of Japan is drilled into our heads for an hour or so. As for lunch, while we thought at first it would be fun to eat “real” ramen all the time, we have since learned that it is expensive and almost impossible to finish a bowl of. We hit the conbini (convenience store) for cheap lunch boxes. Japanese food, if you are not eating crap all the time, is really good for you. From just eating the usual diet and walking a little every day, I’ve already lost about ten pounds, and my case would be considered average.

If it’s Wednesday, we hit yoga after that for an hour. I highly recommend yoga, it works wonders for balance, concentration, and tightening your big American behind. If not, we hang out in the caf’, where the Americans and Japanese mix it up for whacky mealtime adventures. If we’re feeling adventurous, we snack off for a field trip to Tokyo Tower or shopping in Shibuya or Akihabara. Last week we went to Ginza, where we accidentally found ourselves in the Eastern Grounds of the Imperial Palace. Of course, we couldn’t go in—the emperor doesn’t like kids on his lawn—but we photographed the surrounding area plenty.

In the afternoons, I have a class on Japanese comics—I won’t lie, it’s a buffer course, and we watch cartoons—and a special course on non-governmental organizations that I had to go through applications and screenings to get into. This course is actually run on a grant, and it’s sending us all to work at a foundation in India for a few weeks at the end of the semester, all expenses paid. The bulk of the grade is going to come from our fieldwork, so they’re having a hard time finding ways to grade our performance so far. I’m only taking four classes, but I do not recommend any more and I do not recommend any hard classes. You want to have fun abroad. If it’s down to a weekend trip or an A paper, you’ll choose the trip nine times out of ten, I guarantee. Speaking of which, I have a few most excellent ones coming up. Expect to hear more on that later in the week.

After classes, we have a variety of activities to choose from. If it’s a Wednesday, we go spend a few hours at the hot springs. If it’s a Friday, we head to archery club. Any one of a number of shopping districts is a short ride away. In addition, the school keeps us busy with varied culture activities. If we’re tired, it’s straight home (two hours approximately) to a hot mama-made dinner and a few hours of crazy Japanese television.

I get most of my Japanese practice during this time, chatting with my mother, playing with the kids, and just watching the telly. After about nine cups of tea, I head upstairs to lay on my futon and work/play on the Internet before bed. You will learn to live by your futon—Japanese homes are not heated. You also hang your clothes to dry, in you window—so don’t expect privacy.

This is also the time for emails, calling home, and writing posts for you guys, and it’s about 8 a.m. your time, 10 p.m. my time, on the same day. I think this might be the most disorienting thing of them all. You will also feel the loneliest for home around this time. But whatever you do, no matter how lonely you get or how bad your day was, you never go home in that culture shock moment. You ride it out. It is not that bad. Believe me, I know somebody who did, and they will probably always regret it. If you’ve actually made it abroad, you definitely have the will power to make it in your new home. Chin up. It’s gonna be good.

Til next time.