Relearning Life's Little Chores

Friday August 11, 1989

To the south of our apartment is an undeveloped hill. If I position myself just right, I can rest my eyes on the expanse of green. It would be very soothing, except that the noise of the cicadas (semi) is deafening. I feel like I've walked into the set of a Tarzan movie. I'm slowly becoming acclimated; the cicadas' whine melts into the background noise.

We have been in Beppu almost a week, but have spent only two days in our own apartment. Yesterday, we got back from the English Summer Seminar about 15:30. It felt so good to be home and alone. I tried to organize the apartment again and to establish a routine. Every little thing takes such a long time here.

For example, because the washing machine is so small, I have to do three loads of laundry for every one load I'd have done in an American washing machine. But, we have no dryer and there is only enough room on our apartment balcony to hang out one load of wash at a time. This means I must take some time every day to do laundry (rather than doing it all on the weekend). Now I understand why there is laundry hanging from every balcony every day.

The clothesline itself is quite different. Not a "line" at all, it consists of two plastic aqua poles, the modern equivalent of bamboo poles, that run almost the length of the balcony. I guess that this system developed in response to the need for airing out futons (although, in this neighborhood, most futons are hung over the balcony rail). For small items, such as socks, one clips them to special hangers. The clothespins are plastic, and very, very small compared with American clothespins. The Japanese housewives slip the arms of shirts through the poles to hang them, but I just put the shirts on hangars and hang them as if they were in a closet. Now if only the closets had clothes rods. But they don't, as they are not designed for hanging clothes at all, but for storing futons. I have no wardrobe and no dresser, so I've put a bookshelf in the closet to put folded clothes on. I have yet to discover a solution to my long dresses. Maybe that's one reason so many women wear skirts and shirts sets instead of one piece dresses.

Marushoku is comparitively new and modern next to the other stores on the main shopping street in Kamegawa. But it is half the size of the smallest grocery store in Austin, the Tom Thumb in Cassis Village. Some food items we readily recognize--like Ritz crackers. Others are quite mysterious. For me, who is used to the prices at Whole Food Market, the prices here are not outrageous--certainly nothing as bad as I feared. For example, a package of chicken meat is about 300 yen. And the prepared meals of tempura and sushi are each under 300 yen. When you compare that to restaurant prices or even to a 100 yen soft drink from a vending machine, then the supermarket prices seem very reasonable. I noticed that grapes are 300 yen in the supermarket, but that the same package can be had at the green grocer for only 100 yen.

Bathing also takes time, planning, and instruction. The first night we were here Murakami-sensei called to say the housemother and next-door-neighbor, Negoro-san, would come over and show us how to take a "basu". We got ready to go out, thinking she was going to tell us how to take a bus, but it turned out she came to show us how to take a bath.

First, I must fill the plastic, aqua bathtub with cold water (this apartment has no hot running water). Then I must turn on the recirculating heater. Then I sit naked on a stool in the bathroom, and dip water out of the bathtub and pour it over myself, soap down, wash, and rinse off. After I'm completely clean, I can get into the bath. This part is heavenly and I would give anything to have a bathtub like this in America. The first time I pulled the plug, I was alarmed when the water went gushing out on the bathroom floor. Not to worry, though. This is the design as there is a drain in the middle of the bathroom floor. Not only does this simplify plumbing installation and maintenace, it simplifies cleaning the bathroom.

Posted by M Sinclair Stevens
August 11, 1989

Comments

Like many things, I incorporated the Japanese-style "clothesline" into my life in Texas when I returned to Austin. I hung up a clothes rod from a closet outside on the edge of my porch and put my clothes on hangers to dry. I brought back a bag of those little clothespins, too--one of my many small purchases at the 100-yen shop.

Comment by: M Sinclair Stevens. Posted August 15, 2002 08:23 AM.

I lived in Japan and loved those folding plastic rectangle cloths dryers with pegs to clip the cloths to. The whole unit could be either hung from a rope or clasped to a bamboo rod.The big clip allowed the unit to spin in the wind which helped to dry the cloths quicker This really saved electricty. I can not find anywhere in the USA. I am trying to find a source to buy many of them. Another wonderful item not in the USA is the toilet seat cover, which makes a cold toilet seat bearable to sit on. It is funny how Americans put up with sitting on freezing cold toilets in the winter! Of course the Japanese have a whole "science' for making toilets comfortable to sit on, such as electric seat warmers. Here is to innovativeness to make our everydays lives a little easier!

Comment by: patrice. Posted December 15, 2005 08:14 PM.

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