There are myriads of wonderful discoveries to be made in Japan, but the first I came into contact with on a recent trip disconcerted me. Upon arrival in Tokyo, I walked into a blindingly clean bathroom at the airport (cleaner than mine at home?) to be confronted by a toilet which was a triumph of high-tech engineering.
As I approached it, a veritable tsunami occurred within the bowl, water swirling around with such gay abandon I stepped back. What the hell had happened? I had touched nothing. I later found out the noise was to prevent your neighbour from hearing you pee. Being in an international venue, at least there was a notice explaining, in pictures, how to flush the thing—a task more complicated than you might think. There was obviously nothing so vulgar as a button to push or something to pull, or even something obvious to hover your hand over. A discreet metal plate in the wall. Then another tsunami.
I walked out thinking I had conquered this bit of local culture, at least—but no. There are many brands (TOTO being the elite) and types of toilets in Japan, adorned with a dizzying array of functions—to warm the seat, deodorise, etc etc. It’s all somewhat similar to a sophisticated car wash! In one hotel, the toilet would sense your presence and the lid would slowly rise as you approached, like some large carnivorous jungle flower. It was a little disturbing at first. Apparently some can even make you a quick cup of coffee or print out a shopping list, but I have not met them yet 🙂
I loved everything about our trip—the food, the wonderful trees everywhere, the people bowing to each other. It is a very elegant custom and a lot more hygienic than the European fashion of kissing all and sundry. A lot of working people such as taxi drivers still wear white gloves.
Not many Japanese speak English, and why should they? They are a population of 123 million on their islands and inhabit their own world. The communication problems are easily solved with little pocket translators that everyone seems to carry. We relied heavily on Google Translate—for example, when arriving at a restaurant to discover the name was only written in kanji.
Also they use laminated photos, or even fake versions of the food (see above) so you can see what you’re ordering. I loved it that even the food they qualified as ‘western’ had a Japanese twist to it—a sliced pickled radish here, a sliver of raw fish there.
Everything was delicious—tempura and sushi made to order before our eyes, street food, even the onigiri (rice balls or triangles) from the 7-eleven.
There are vending machines everywhere—selling beer, soft drinks, ice cream and all sorts of other stuff. It is very amusing when everything looks so different from the stuff at home. It all costs thousands in yen (but we did refuel the car for the equivalent of €23…)
A visit to the food hall in the basement of department stores is a voyage in itself. Almost nothing is recognisable…
Also, the cars! Models that are not sold in Europe. I totally fell in love with the little boxy cars in Okinawa, where we spent a few days. Especially the little mint green Suzuki.
I liked everything about our trip, so much so that, if I could possibly learn Japanese, I would seriously consider never coming back. Meanwhile, I am sorely tempted to acquire a TOTO toilet but sadly I do not think a Normandy plumber could cope with it.
More Japanese discoveries in later posts. Stay tuned.
Letters from Athens 