I HEAR A SYMPHONY

A friend wrote me a while back, saying, "So there's really no central heating in Japan?  What about the robots?  This is the country that invents high-tech robots, right?"  It's true- what Japan lacks in attention to personal comfort, it more than makes up for in technological advancements, such as robots that help prevent snoring, or this rather controversial process that may save us when the world ends (I really don't recommend clicking on this link if you just ate or are about to eat).  And, behold!  A bathroom mirror that somehow repels condensation from the shower! (After seeing this photo, a couple of friends remarked, "If they can keep one part of the mirror from fogging up, why don't they apply the same treatment to the entire mirror?"  Let's not get greedy here, people.)
 

Magical

However, I think Japan's greatest unsung (no pun intended) achievement is subliminal messaging through music.  While shopping with friends, "Auld Lang Syne" started playing over the loudspeakers.  It was September.  "How weird," I remarked, "Don't the Japanese know that we play this at New Year's?"  "Oh, they're not just playing this [for the sake of playing it]," a friend responded, "They're letting us know that the store is closing."  This is an excellent example of the subtly nice ways the Japanese make a decisive point.  Another situation: when a party breaks up and it's time for the guests to leave, the host or hostess says a phrase that literally translates as "bamboo rope," but in context means, "The party is opened."  An English paraphrase would be: "You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here."
 
I've mentioned before the infernal speakers right outside my bedroom that blare public announcements from our town hall.  However, in addition to the 7am wake up call on Sundays, the speakers also provide another service: various jingles throughout the day to mark an appropriate activity.  Each song is different (though they're all reminiscent of the music that an ice cream truck plays), and lasts maybe 1-2 minutes.  At 7am, the wake up song strikes.  At noon, the music signifies it's time for lunch, causing everyone to start salivating in a Pavlovian manner. Finally, at 5pm we have the "going home" music, reportedly designed to lure children back home after school like an automated Pied Piper.  
 
Rajio taisou is a morning calisthenics routine broadcast on radio and television that the Japanese perform every day.  Interestingly, it was introduced in Japan in the 1920s after Met Life Insurance Co. started a radio broadcast routine in major cities in the U.S.  During the 1930s and 40s, the Japanese routine was used to keep soldiers at home and abroad in top condition.  Today, the routine has been re-choreographed so that it is decidedly less militaristic in nature.  Some people do it at home, others do it at the start of work with their colleagues.  Friends who live in more urbane areas have told me that they've glanced outside their windows at the appointed rajio taisou time (7am), to see construction workers, etc. moving in unison.  You can check out the raijio taisou routine here. Honestly, given the Japanese love of the campy and flamboyant, I'm amazed that Richard Simmons hasn't become a major import.  Ring those cowbells!        

MAKE 'EM LAUGH

This may surprise you, but I like humor the way some people like a martini: dry, sophisticated, and maybe even a little salty.  Japan, however, rivals Canada in its earnest manner of taking everything literally, rendering most dry humor ineffectual.  Not to say that the Japanese are not funny (or Canadians, for that matter).  They are, and I really enjoy joking around with people at school and in the neighborhood.  However, some kinds of humor just don't translate.  One mode is not necessarily better than another- it's all relative.  Still, I was taken aback when one of my adult eikaiwa members, Mr. M, asked me, "How do you learn to tell a joke?"  How does one answer that question?  I think for most people, we start out with formulas, like knock-knock jokes, or jokes you might find on the back of a cereal box.  In time, we evolve as humorists, and start making more situational quips.  Mr. M's question generated a long discussion about humor, and the divides among people in terms of what they find funny.

Another adult eikaiwa member said to me about her time studying abroad in Wyoming (yes, you read that right): "Americans are so...childish.  When I was living with my host family, they would act like children sometimes."  "Like what?" I asked. "They would put, the cold thing...[an ice cube] down someone's shirt.  Even the adults would do this!"  I couldn't help but be a little nettled by her critique, particularly given the standard of high comedy here, as evidenced by my sporadic exposure to Japanese media.  I don't have a TV in my apartment, which usually doesn't bother me, though I'm somewhat convinced that I'm missing out on some of Japan's most fascinating wackiness.  On the other hand, I can't see myself tuning in every week to a game show in which men are asked to repeat tongue twisters, and then penalized with a blow to the nether regions with the Chinko Machine (lit., Penis Machine) if they make a mistake.  I'll take the worst of American TV programming (reality shows) over the chinko machine any day.