Sitting in a large room with a tatami floor it takes me a few minutes before I realise that this room is mine for the next six months. As I walk into a room saying the obligatory “ohaiyo gozaimasu” it never fails to steal my breath as I realise this will be the norm for the next year. I am in Japan. I live in a dormitory for Japanese nurses and I work in a hospital surrounded by Japanese co-workers who find it both surreal and amusing that I, a foreigner, can speak basic Japanese including the important saying “oskare sama desu.”
I had arrived in Nagasaki on a plane full of Loud, obnoxious American teenagers and I wondered what happened to the Japan where foreigners were a rarity. Were they going to be in the same city? Was I going to be just another face in the crowd?
When the plane landed, the first thing that hit me was the heat. It was not the humidity of Tokyo, instead it was as if we were on the sun itself. It shone down with unrelenting intensity. I was told, by the news when I watched T.V later that day, that it had been 36 degrees Celsius. In my hometown it wouldn’t even get to 26 degrees. If we were having a good summer we might have a couple of weeks of 23 degrees and then the cold would come straight back.
Walking through the doors into the arrival lounge I was met by my host. A smiling, tiny lady called Oka-san (岡さん) who was impressed that I knew and understood the phrase “yoroshiku onegai shimasu”. She used the work “jouzu”, a word that at the time I didn’t realise I would be hearing quite often when saying good morning; excuse me or my goodbyes when leaving the locker room and the ward. I was led to a typical Japanese car, small and boxy with sat nav and air conditioning where they proceeded to take the scenic route to the placement. It was at least an hour drive with the mountains one side and the ocean the other. It was a spectacular scene.
Arriving at the hospital, I dragged my handbag and heavy hand luggage, 2kg overweight, around the hospital. Bright red cheeks, melting make up and messy hair. I didn’t know it but I would be meeting every one of importance in the hospital looking like that and having my picture taken.
Fun times.
First though I was taken to get my uniform fitted. I had sent them my measurements beforehand but they needed to make sure it fit me just right. The tiny woman took one look at me and pronounced loudly that I was huge and didn’t know if the uniform would fit. Now in England I am a size 10/12 average to small. It was unsettling and made many old emotions and self-loathing flare up. As I listened I realised she meant my height. It was then that I realised I should really listen to the whole conversation.
After the uniform fitting, which was a powdered blue smock top with no shape and high waist trousers, I was taken to the office where I was given my white trainers, which of course had to be men’s, and introduced to the office. My eye was snagged on one of the office workers. Whilst he is not conventionally good looking he has an easy smile and says cheesy jokes which just intrigued me. I nicknamed him Mr fitty.
After being sat down, had the rota for the next few months explained and our insurance and passports photocopied for legal reasons and if anything should happen we were told to wait down stairs as Oka-san got changed so she could take us to our home for the next six months. Both me and Flora, the girl I am partnered with and who I shall explain a bit more about a little later, were dreaming of a nice hot shower and sleep. We were both expecting a small flat with everything we needed. Instead we were given a tatami floored bedroom with a small kitchen, a bathroom with only a toilet and a sink, which only had cold water, and a balcony. The room was one of many in a dormitory for some of the young nurses working at the hospital. The shower room was a traditional Japanese shower room. With a deep bath and three shower heads, with the small stools and bowls to clean yourself before you take a bath. There are no shower curtains and mirrors situated so that you will see every part of the woman behind you. I do so love to see vagina in the morning….
In that instance walking into the room I silently proclaimed that although I am willing to try everything and really want to live like a japanese person this is the one area I shall stick with my British sensibilities. I lock the door. Another bad thing is that there is no internet which is why these posts are delayed. I write them into a little notebook and them copy them here. Tiresome yes but what can I do.
At this point let me describe my partner for the next six months. Her name is Flora and for the foreseeable future all we have is each other. We live next door to each other, we work in the same hospital (though on different floors) we have lunch and dinner together and spend the weekends together. Some of the things we get up to are slightly surreal but I shall talk about them as they should be spoken about.
She can’t really speak any Japanese and every word that she does say is pronounced with a clear upper class British accent. I find it incredibly amusing which she often shrugs off and continues to use that accent whilst asking me what this means or how to say that. Have always had friends who can speak Japanese with a fluency and ability that is astounding and makes me bow my head in deference and shame it’s a nice change. She states that she is glad she is placed with me. Now three weeks in I admit, although silently, that I too am glad we are placed together. At the time though I thought it would be interesting. Two girls from different backgrounds and different classes being forced.
On our first Saturday night in Nagasaki we both thought it a good idea to go down to Dejima Wharf, a row of restaurants and bars by the water, and have one relaxing drink by the water with the night lights and mountain in front of us.
Neither of us realised as we waited for the tram to the bar, that it would turn into a night that we remember with fondness and hilarity.
After the fifth Moscow mule and Tequila Sunrise respectively we both decided it was a brilliant idea to miss the last tram home and walk 10 minutes to the entertainment district.
Walking the Japanese streets at midnight we were not as alone as we thought we would be, nor were we surrounded by drunks like we would have been in England. Our companions were school kids still in their uniforms, salary men and families taking a walk. We even stopped for a few minutes to watch hip hop dancers before walking down some of the backstreets trying to find the perfect place to while away the hours. It was in one of these alleys that we found the ‘WITH BLDG’.
Going to the top floor, we thought the safest option, for there were many hostess bars, would be to go to a piano bar. We were met at the door by a woman who proceeded to tell us that it was a very expensive bar and maybe not the best place for us. However she was a nice lady asking us what we were doing in Japan and where we worked at the moment. When she found out where were working her eyes widened as did her smile. She then told us that the director of our hospital, was a regular patron who she always kept a bottle of expensive wine behind the bar for. She was kind enough to wish us well and point us in the direction of a ‘shot bar’.
By means of eeny, meeny, miny, mo we chose a door and opened it with apprehension hoping we weren’t walking into an embarrassing situation of a hostess bar. We were met with bewildered smiles but were promptly ushered into a very small, very intimate karaoke bar. We were shown to two bar stools at the far end where we could see everyone and everyone could see us. The female manager gave us her business card and proceeded to tell us to call her mama. In return I taught her and the master, a guy who made the drinks, what a black Russian was and she then proceeded to get everyone in the bar to try it. We were spoken to in very fast Japanese and made friends with a large man with a ready laugh who told us he was a director and would reserve us tickets to his play. Apparently it’s a comedy. We are still in two minds where to go or not. At the same time Flora pulled a lovely young man called Koki, whose mother was a ball of energy and wanted the two to get together. This is where it gets a bit surreal.
Now everyone does not want to be the third wheel. Being ignored and sitting there like a lemon. I on the other hand was a third wheel with a difference. Because Flora could not speak Japanese and Koki couldn’t speak English I was forced to be their translator. Awkward most definitely.
At around two in the morning the bar closed. Me and Flora, very drunk and happy proceeded to ask Koki and his incredibly cool, tattooed mother if there were any nightclubs still open. They asked his friend Yuki who looked as if he really didn’t want to be seen with us or associate with the two foreign girls begrudgingly showed us to this little bar where we met two other foreign girls. A girl from Liverpool who spoke with a very thick American accent and a black girl from Chicago wearing only a black tank top, superman knickers and platform boots as she swung around and did tricks on the pole.
Me and flora stayed till about quarter to five in the morning when we decided we had enough fun in the bar and giggling at the slightest thing we thought to go to Lawson’s where we proceeded to proclaim that we were not drunk and got some water. It was coming out of Lawsons giggling over the creep baby in roller skates phone charm attached to Flora’s bottle of water that we ran into two men from the club. A lovely Nigerian man and a Japanese man who offered us a lift. An incredibly giggly Flora said yes and before I knew it we were following them to their car. Before she could say anything more I told them that our address was 3 tram stops away from where is actually was and proceeded to explain that I was a pretty tough chick. They believed me.
It was a stupid thing to do. We should have waited until seven am in McDonald’s or something for the trams to start running but we learn from our mistakes and hindsight is 20/20. We got home safely though. Nothing happened and as we said our good byes to get some sleep we both smiled at the thought that this would be our life for the next six months and it was a perfect hello to a new way of life.
