Matsunuma, of course, being my new neighbourhood, written with the kanji 'pine tree' and 'swamp', though it's really much more charming than that, I assure you!
Made the puddle hop back in November, having applied for and gotten a job in the hobby industry, and since then I've become comfortably ensconced in a tiny apartment in the city of Tatebayashi, somewhere in the wilds of Gunma-ken, about an hour's train ride out of Tokyo.
And so I have been asked by the powers that be to write an article about my experience here, about the culture shock, about anything I feel relevant about Japan. Not sure about relevance, but here are a few of the more striking differences that have stuck in my brain (the full story, poorly updated of late, can be found at http://www.lilbluekat.net/japan/
The first thing that struck me when I got here and started working, is that Japanese people laugh. Not that laughing in and of itself is particularly unusual or culturally diverse, but the Japanese laugh at anything they find strange. It's a knee-jerk reaction. They laugh at the fact that I read shounen manga, build model kits, wear purple boots. It's not malicious laughter; it's just, as near as I can tell, an involuntary reaction to something utterly outside their experience.
My co-workers know very little English, and so I'm forced to stumble through conversations in pidgin Japanese; but I'm learning, and they're learning, and I'm growing increasingly comfortable with them. I had some minor trouble when I started working here; the men wouldn't let me lift any boxes in the warehouse. I'm a girl, after all. It was mildly amusing, but I think I've scared it out of them -- they dared to try to tighten some bolts on some racks after I had already tightened them, and I guess it occurred to these guys that maybe I didn't need macho men around after all.
But my work is secondary to the lifestyle change, having moved from Canada to Japan, and I've seen a lot of things that are very swiftly becoming 'normal' to me. I suspect I'll really miss them when I go back home. I look forward to re-reading this article when I get back to Canada, and seeing how much my own perspective has changed.
Fashion in Japan is very eclectic and, to my perverse mind, delightfully weird. Loose socks are 'out', by the way, though I've seen them on a few girls here in Tatebayashi (and by the way, loose socks are supposed to make your legs look skinny, but they don't, because they remove any shape your legs might have at the ankle, and your legs end up looking like tree trunks). Fur is rather trendy at the moment and you can get just about anything made of real animal fur, from accessories to full suits. The oddest fashion trend I've seen so far, in Tatebayashi and Tokyo alike, is women wearing mini-skirts, legwarmers, and strappy little open sandals.
And right along beside these (to me) oddball fashions, you'll find a straight-backed woman in full kimono, and interestingly enough, it doesn't seem out of place to see her there.
Purikura (the photo sticker booths) are also 'out', but there are still lots of them around. Every other block has a pachinko parlour or a karaoke bar on it. Hostess bars are very clearly marked. There are entire shops with nothing in them but UFO catcher machines, and the UFO catcher machines sometimes dispense some really surprising things -- like little ceramic rice bowls with plastic lids, the fridge to microwave to table sort of thing.
Naturally, manga is everywhere. I get my Weekly Shounen Jump when I get my groceries (and it's only ¥210, which makes me shriek with bitter laughter when I recall how much I've paid for WSJ in the past). There's a BookOff not far from me, with two floors of used manga, books, CDs, video games, and VHS/DVD/LD series and movies. Who could be bored, even in Tatebayashi, with a BookOff close by?
Tokyo is a haven for the raving fan; besides the giant Animate in Ikebukuro, and the several Mandarake shops, there are gazillions of little second-hand shops everywhere.
Hello Kitty is the one bizarre and slightly unnerving phenomenon that I've come across. I like having cartoon characters on things; that makes the little child inside my brain squeal with delight. But Hello Kitty is everywhere -- on bed linens, cutlery, dishes, pots and pans, convenction and microwave ovens, foot massagers, adult clothing, backpacks and purses -- it's really quite eerie.
Schoolboys in uniform are as adorable and sullen and loose-buttonedly defiant as they are in shounen manga (they try to look threatening, but they're just so darned cute, and you can't look threatening in a school uniform, especially when you're part of a flock on matching bicycles). The girls practise their English on me and giggle, and I rarely see one out of uniform -- they have school activities on the weekends and uniforms are required. Very young children sometimes squeak, 'Mama, gaijin da!' when they see me, but for the most part, they just stare. Their mothers, I should note, pay absolutely no attention to the exclamations, or to me.
In Tatebayashi, there are seven stations available on TV without having to pay for them. If anything happens to Masako-sama (the crown princess), all seven stations are broadcasting it; the most recent of these events, of course, was the birth of the new princess, Aiko-sama.
Pokemon is much more fun in Japanese (still stupid, but fun). So is TV Champions. At most times, you can find a 'trendy drama' or a game show of some sort on, so there's almost always mindless programming to be watched, which is nice sometimes.
7-11 is as good a place to eat as any. You can get fresh salads, udon
and soba bowls, cold fried chicken, gyouza (dumplings) and hard-boiled
eggs, and some really terrific soup bentou, just add water and heat for
5 minutes. 
There are plenty of complete meals, plus dessert, for only a
few hundred yen, and it's all pretty darned good. This sort of thing is
never on the shelves overnight; all the salarymen and other worker bee
types are in there first thing in the morning buying lunch, and last
thing at night, buying dinner, and everything gets sold. The selection
varies from day to day.
And of course when you pick up your dinner and dessert at the 7-11, you can get the wine to go with it (or sake, or whiskey, or rum). My current favourite is Grape Chu-Hi (a sake drink similar to the fruity vodka drinks you can get back home).
Fruit is not nearly as expensive as I have heard reported -- with the exceptions of some imported apples and melons. Vegetables are cheap and plentifiul, but then I walk to work along a street peppered with vegetable fields in people's back yards -- it's a very rural area.
KFC is the place to be for New Year's dinner. They take reservations and are always full for the night.
If you're going to work and live in Japan for any length of time, you have to register as a resident alien -- you get a little 'gaijin card', which identifies you to the authorities. You have to carry it around with you wherever you go. There are a lot of things that you can't do without the card, which proves your residence and employment status; for instance, while I can get an actual telephone line in my apartment, I can't get a cell phone account, without the gaijin card. (Amusingly, both services are provided by the same company). Most video rental places also will not rent to gaijin who don't have their alien registration card (made my first few weeks excruciatingly boring, what with seven channels on TV and my videos on a boat somewhere between Canada and Japan)...
The local trains are reasonably-priced, on time, and relatively clean, if crowded (make sure you don't forget your anti-perspirant -- you will be in very close quarters during rush hour); the express trains cost about three times as much but are well worth it at the end of the day when you're footsore -- on the express trains you get a reserved seat, and the seats are big cushy reclining coach seats.
I live in the boonies, really and truly. From the top of the bridge a few minutes' bike ride from my apartment, I can stop and look around and see mountains all around the city. On a clear day, I can see Fuji-san.
Drunken salarymen are hilarious, and insist on speaking English to me.
I've been through one teeny earthquake -- so small that by the time I realised it was an earthquake, it was over.
I had originally written here that I don't really feel like I've settled. But I started this article well over a month ago, and since then I've been to our company 'bounenkai' -- the year-end party -- and that, I can tell you, is a really amazing experience. I've been to a few Christmas parties back home in Canada, with various companies for which I worked, and there is absolutely no comparison.
At a bounenkai, for instance, getting smashed and informing the retail manager (who is second in command only to the guy who owns the company) that he'd damned well better eat his spinach because it's good for him, like it or not -- doesn't get you fired or demoted, or lose you a portion of your year-end bonus. Good thing, too, because with a bottle of sweet wine in me, I tend to be bossy. (just for the record -- he ate his spinach) Drunkenness in Japan is a legitimate excuse; if you do something foolish when you're drunk, well, you were drunk, shou ga nai.
Once we had our (absolutely marvellous) dinner, drinks included, all on the company dime, we headed off to go bowling, during which we mostly sobered up, had a lot of fun, and determined that none of us will ever become professional bowlers.
But after bowling, everyone was still raring to go -- so those who could stand (and who didn't have spouses and children waiting for them at home), the shachou included, piled into cars, picked up a bunch of alcohol and ice cream at the 7-11 and headed over to my place, to sit at the kotatsu, get drunk again, and make fun of the seven channels I get on television.
Never in a millennium would anything like this have happened in any of the companies for which I've slaved in my (granted, relatively short) working life. Perhaps it's just that this little country girl has never had the chance to experience this sort of thing before, and that plenty of Western companies have similar parties. Nevertheless, it's something I'm glad I can take off my 'to do in Japan' list.
The next thing, of course, was Comiket, but that's another story (and probably another article!).
Shall update in a few months, when we'll see if I'm begging to go home, or begging to get a three-year work visa!
Jeanne note: The illos I've used here aren't really trying to imply that Katchan lives now in the backwater boonies where time stands still. They're mostly the work of a woodblock print artist, Kawase Hasui, who worked from the late Taishou periods, 1918, to his death in 1957. You can still find places that look like the Japan he depicted, and the skies you see there, even in polluted Tokyo, look he same as the ones he drew in the mid-20's.