The Unmade Made Bed

I'm liking this haphazard approach to styling. It seems a lot more real to me than tight hospital corners. Not that I want to crawl into someone else's messy bed but the thought of my own comfy unmade bed makes me happy. Especially at the weekend. 

Hey-o that last bed is mine. I keep it simple in summer with a thin feather comforter + plain white duvet cover. Top sheets are too much hassle – must be the European in me. Or the slacker.

What do you think of casual styling? Too messy and unkempt? Are you a smooth-with-neat-corners type or the effortless-comfort-don't-care type?

Wishing you a happy, lazy weekend regardless.

★

This Japanese House: The Kitchen

It's about damn time, yo. I'm closing in on two years here and I finally, FINALLY have the kitchen to a point that it doesn't make me break down into a sobbing wreck.

Okay, I'm exaggerating slightly. But it did give me all the sads for a long time. Then I thought get over your badself because fuck it, this is Japan. This is a rental house in Japan. This is a far cry from my white marble dream kitchen that, let's face it, isn't ever going to happen for most of us way down here in the 99%.

Time to give THIS kitchen some love! With all its imperfections. No more drippy in-depth complaining about how I don't have an oven, garbage disposal, or dishwasher, or about the ugly faucet, or the harsh overhead fluorescent light I never ever turn on, or about the redundant, awkward sliding door to the bathroom right next to the refrigerator, or that the 5'10" back door is sized for midgets Japanese people and we couldn't figure out how to open it for three months, or the confusing little fish broiler drawer beneath the stovetop in which I always burn toast, or the beige fake marble plastic wall panels, or the counters that are almost 4" shorter than standard western counter height, or the totally wack storage space ... in the floor.

Nope. Not talking about those things beyond listing them just now. Check. I also won't start in on the pathetic longing for my other kitchens, 1 & 2.

Instead I'll point out the very affordable cute little white perfectly-sized fridge from Muji.

And the über cool black hood ...

... over the adorable yet hardworking 3-burner gas stovetop.

And the amazingly low-maintenance stainless steel countertop that I LOVE.

Hey-o, check out my fancy Sori Yanagi kettle I picked up for half the price I'd pay outside of Japan.

Oh how I prefer kitchen drawers over cabinets. See how I covered those drawers with removable chalkboard wallpaper because they're pink.

Here are the shelves I built for about $40 and mounted on the sliding doorframe to the bathroom. (there's a normal door to the bathroom from the hallway, too)

Oh yeah, and not to mention just the whole charming wabi-sabi Japanness of it all. Gotta say I'm pret-ty stoked I'm not too mortified to post photos of this kitchen out on the scary Internets. Trying to keep it real by focusing on and appreciating what's good and accepting what I cannot change. Just like that dumb quote tells us – you know, the one hipsters tattoo on their midriffs.

So what do you think? Does my bizarro kitchen or house change any perceptions you may have had about living in Japan? (see more house here, here & here)

★

Screw Household Convenience, This is Japan

Here is the entirety of my Japanese kitchen except for the refrigerator. See if you can spot the dishwasher. Oh, you can't because there isn't one.

I live in Japan without the following items: dishwasher, garbage disposal, clothes dryer, oven, insulated walls, central heating, fenced yard, outdoor seating or privacy, and garage. No, I didn't become a Buddhist nun and move to a monastery deep in a bamboo forest, this is just how everyday Japanese people live.

Wait. Japan?? ... Land of fancy cameras, hi-tech gadgets, video games, stereo equipment, televisions, Hello Kitty, and ubiquitous hybrid cars?

Yes. Japan.

Right? Imagine my surprise. Let's start with dishwashers. Except for camping trips, the last time I had no dishwasher was in college when I lived in a cute little converted 1-car garage in Boulder. WTF, Japaaann.

Here are some reasons I've come up with for this gaping hole in daily household life:

The gender problem. Like many other shall we disrespectfully call them less enlightened societies, home care in Japan is built into the duties of women. Traditionally their role is to accept these duties quietly and willingly, which they have historically done. Think 1950s America. Until the last few decades, Japanese women have been given few equal opportunities in the career world. It's still generally accepted that most women will stay in the home and work their asses off there all day, primarily because they lack first world modern conveniences. I call it oppressive but then I'm just an insensitive, lazy westerner.

Lack of space. Lots of city-dwellers in the western world live in cramped spaces and wash dishes by hand too, female or not. In cities it's about lack of space in Japan too, many Japanese apartments don't have kitchens at all, let alone space for anything more than 2 burners and a mini refrigerator. But I live in a house, surrounded by average homes that are in fact big, even by US standards (like 2,000 square feet) so the lack-of-space excuse doesn't fly. Also, when I lived in a small city apartment in Europe we had a smaller kitchen than we do in Japan yet it included an 18" dishwasher. So it's not really about lack of space.

The trade philosophy. I suspect it's also about Japanese isolationism and the government's long-term unwillingness to trade with the rest of the world. Well, they definitely trade OUT (PlayStation anyone? Toyota? Canon?) yet they bring IN very little, theoretically to keep their economy going (until now, that is) by selling few goods domestically that are not Japanese. And they basically don't make dishwashers, or import them. (Samsung and LG are Korean brands, the lucky bastards!) At the Ikea here in Japan I did notice dishwashers on their show floor are all made by the Swedish company Electrolux, and were not available for sale.  In fact, Japan does not allow Ikea to sell any appliances.

A few countertop dishwashers are made here – you know, the kind that hook up to the sink. This Panasonic looks like spawn of a toaster oven and bread maker. It also looks cheap and gadgety and probably doesn't work well if it's anything like my washing machine, which doesn't actually clean unless you run it for two or three cycles. And where does this beast go when it's not in use? Are you supposed to leave it out, taking up precious counter space? Yeah. NO.

Kitchen design. I know we all like to think that everyone in Japan lives in modern minimalistic design heaven, but that simply isn't the case for I'd say about 95% of the population. Japanese houses are built quickly out of cheap materials and are not meant to last. Homes are extremely utilitarian, and they're pretty much all the same inside. The Acme grade kitchen unit (like mine, pictured up above) is one big piece and exists almost identically in most homes.

Obedience. Japanese people don't complain and they're surprisingly nationalistic and trust their big companies and government to keep the country happy. It has served them well and really, why have a dishwasher when you've never needed one before? Fuck innovation and convenience. This is Japan.

I'm clearly still working on acceptance here. To embrace my new role as top dish dog, quite the dubious honor, I have tips for life without a mechanized dishwasher:

+ one pot cooking
+ make lots of sandwiches
+ get take out and dine out often
+ snacks (but avoid too many Funyuns)
+ daytime water glass = evening wine glass
+ never thought I'd say this but use paper plates and eat off paper towels whenever possible
+ wash and dry immediately and put everything away to avoid depression, bugs, and counter-surfing boxer dogs
+ try to remember to use rubber gloves (I almost never do)
+ if you have more than one person in your household, switch daily between washing and drying
+ to avoid further depression and feeling as if feminism was just a figment of your imagination, use good dish soap you really like – believe it or not I actually order Mrs. Meyers through iHerb (they have all kinds of great stuff and ship to Japan for only $4)
+ ditto for dish towels – when I'm stateside I nab plain white flour sack towels at Target 

Desperate times, yo! Okaaay, more like first world problems, Japan-style.

★

I Hate You Japan

I did my first I Love You Japan post but now I'm going to lay right into this country. Sure it's fun to live here and every day is an adventure. I like adventures. But on a daily basis some of them become tiresome, real fast.

And now, the #1 reason Japan sucks ass:

MY HOUSE IS COLD AS FUCK IN WINTER.

That's a picture of my house. Snow started falling this week and I'm painfully reminded of its inefficiencies. Heated toilet seats are nice and all, but seriously? That's NO replacement for a warm house, people! Is it really too much to ask? These days, in what's known to be the most developed Asian country and some would argue the most modern country in the world? Yes, apparently it is too much to ask.

Let me explain. Houses here have no central heating. Whatsoever. In anyone's house anywhere in Japan. Instead kerosine heaters heat one or two rooms that are kept shut off from the rest of the house. Also, homes in Japan are constructed with little or no insulation and paper-thin walls. I can't really figure this one out. My only theory is if the house falls down during an earthquake the walls won't be heavy enough to kill people ... as much. But that's all I got.

To stay warm people are fond of using electric space heaters, the aforementioned heated toilet seats, heated lap blankets, heated shawls and hand muffs (powered by USB port – I kid you not), heated rugs, heated foot pillows, hot water bottles, heating pad inserts for clothing, "heat wipes" (chemically heated wet wipes), and probably the dumbest of all, the Kotatsu.

This brilliantly designed contraption is a coffee table draped by comforter or blanket with a heater inside. Um no, I'd rather get in a sleeping bag with my dogs than take part in that aesthetic nightmare. Sorry. Would you want your living room to always look like a kid fort? Didn't think so. No matter how cozy and "exotic" these things look.

Here's another one, just in case you think I'm making this shit up. Note the obtrusive kerosine heater in the corner.

We have one kerosine heater in the main room, which is the living room and kitchen. The heater runs all the time and thankfully it's is hooked up to the ugly tank outside that also heats our water via the slightly less ugly (and extremely loud) on-demand water heater next to it. Both sit outside of all homes for the world to see, so I'm guessing city code requires them to stay out there in sub-zero winter temperatures. Because that makes so much sense.

Anyway. About that kerosine, a very nice man comes by in his cute little truck to fill the outdoor tank. He has no set schedule and sometimes he shows up every week or so, but sometimes not for weeks and we nearly die from exposure when the tank runs out. When we figure out what's going on we get someone who speaks Japanese to call the gas company and they send him over. That happened three or four times last winter. Good times.

Back inside, smack next to the bed in the bedroom upstairs is another kerosene heater we have to re-fill by hand every few days. (I keep it strategically hidden under a sheepskin in summer.) Can't tell you how many times we turned it on to warm up the room before heading up to bed, only to find it empty and cold, oh because there's no gauge on it. (Yeah, there's intelligence for you.) Refilling this thing is a real joy: Take its inner tank out, try not to drip gas on the bed (or tatami, stairs, hall, my slippers, the dogs, etc.) go outside with dish gloves on to avoid getting gas all over hands – the horrible smell takes days to dissipate – and attempt to pour or, if fingers aren't frozen yet, hand-pump kerosine from portable tanks, also left out there by the gas man. If he showed up that week.

The rest of the rooms are all cold all the time. When I say cold I mean you see your breath from December through March. I put on a down jacket to go in those rooms. So much fun!

It's not like I haven't been proactive. I've asked around. The expats laugh and say "Welcome to Akita!" A friend from New Zealand even calls winter here inhumane. Japanese people totally accept this way because to them there IS no other way. One guy suggested I put bubble wrap on the windows, so I went to the hardware store to investigate. The stuff is made specifically for windows, but it looks like aluminum foil. Sorry Japanese dude, I refuse to put foil on my windows LIKE A CRACK HOUSE. I don't care if there's no crack in Japan, I have standards.

So living through the cold months in Japan is one step away from winter camping. I'm from Colorado, I like camping, I like winter, I've even winter camped before ... but living like this every day?? It's rough. Not to mention totally inefficient and expensive. I don't think I'll ever understand it.

Okay, rant over. That was a long one. Believe it or not I'm trying to stay positive about living here but I'm still a realist and (I hope) this exercise will be cathartic so maybe I won't attempt hara-kiri before I split Japan. In other words, good on you for being my virtual therapist.

★

Rad Black Cabinets in My Japanese Kitchen

Before (duh)

Boom. Black is beautiful.

No more mottled mauve or pink-beige or whatever fucktard color that is. 

Removable chalkboard wallpaper, people. Took an entire half day. (and that's probably because I don't have hand-eye coordination)

The trickiest bit was smoothing out the bubbles once I'd stuck each piece in the right place.

Best part? When I check out of here I'll just rip it all off and be on my way.