Japan`s underberry

I started this entry when I was in a worse mood, now I`m quite keen on Japan as I`m in an izakaya mood and have just had a lovely Japanese lesson with Marikosan, the undervalued receptionist (all Shane receptionists are, but Mariko seems very special) at Koga. For one, she is teaching me for free, claiming it is good practise for her future career as a Japanese teacher, but having been through a similar process myself, I know two minutes in front of a class of real students will far outweigh anything she could learn by practising on me. I haven`t told her yet. Along with this, I got home to find a package of internet shopping perched by my door, unstolen by human hands. I know Britain is not awash with thieving vermin, and will berate any guide-quoting Japanese tourist who claims otherwise, but it`s nice that this happens because postmen know that this is safe and are not just being lazy and shirking off taking it back to the depot. I`ve also had a few emails about apartments, so hopefully the stress of potentially being homeless by the end of the month will be alleviated enough for me to sleep tonight and the black bags under my eyes will go out with the gomi in the morning.

My home viewing for this evening has not been quite so pleasurable. I saw the same drama last week, and its plot centres around a man`s boss raping the man`s wife. However, the `drama` unfolds not from the ensuing court case, but from the resulting domestics as the wife disapproves of her husband accepting the sly boss`s backhanders. The boss performs the deed and heads off to a hostess bar, then the disrupted family are left bereft of trust as the wife tries to work out how the husband got hold of that very expensive new briefcase... Rape fantasies are big business here. Many of my male friends have complained of `friends of theirs` watching Japanese porn only to find the important bits pixellated (childlike breasts and any flesh that isn`t revealed by a school uniform, which is not much) or that through the pixellation the very clear outline of a man violently attacking an unwilling, childlike victim can be seen. Sex on TV rarely gets beyond some samurais peeping into a women`s onsen, though the women are still unwilling (and pure and worth attacking, I assume).

On Monday, I was speaking to Yoshiko about the prevalence of infidelity in Japan, possibly not a sensitive conversation, given that she is a Japanese wife whose husband is most likely out at every opportunity spending his pocket money on hostesses. She explained that men`s attitudes to infidelity, and the period samurai dramas depiction of onsen perving, stem from long ago, when the Shogun would spot a young lovely he fancied, and whether she was up for it or married or whatever, he`d have her dragged into his harem. Later, he`d stroll in wearing white kimono and point at the lucky woman and she`d be prepared for him.

This has been adjusted more recently to companies providing prostitutes for men on company away days. A colleague`s wife went on a team-bonder and, while getting into her PE kit, heard from the men`s changing rooms the unmistakable grunts of four or five prostitutes servicing the 20 or 30 male staff. She decided to quit her company, though she would have to be of a certain age to hope to find re-employment elsewhere. The saying here is that women are like Christmas cake, no good after the 25th.

These days, modern Japan offers women a lot for tolerating this gross objectification, like their husband`s whole salary. He hands it over on pay day and is given back an allowance, which he will promptly squander on other women. The wives must have some inkling of this, it is so widespread (think everyone, everywhere, and with no shame), but they give the men a budget that allows for hostessing. I`d give mine sandwiches, yoghurt and bus fare.

In the midst of all this, Princess Kiko has given the Imperial Palace the male heir it has been longing for, allowing the Government to pause the debate over legislation changing the line of succession to perhaps allow the Crown Prince and Princess Masako`s daughter to ascend the throne. Kiko`s son has leap-frogged over her depressive sister-in-law`s offspring, Aiko, who had prompted the debate. Though only for now, as some see this as a perfect opportunity to have the debate in a less personal way discussing whether Aiko, Mako or Kako will make a better leader.

Most of these discussions have been fuelled, not only by the ruling elite`s preference for a male leader, but the country`s dislike for Masako. Her critics demanding she and the Crown Prince divorce. Princess Masako was initially a very successul diplomat and was reluctant to marry the Prince as she didn`t want to give up her career. Eventually he asked too many times for her to refuse him politely again and they married and, according to my Daily Mailian students, fell in love. He was already a bit stalkerish long before then from what I can work out. She then, disappointingly, gave birth to a girl and developed serious depression as the country turned against her. At the end of last year, she braved her first public appointment in a couple of years, having been locked away dealing with her issues or leaning very closely to her husband if she ever did leave the Imperial Palace. Yukiko, the student who no longer thinks George Michael is cool, severely disapproves of Masako`s inability to face the public whilst apparently frolicking (in Japanese terms, this is a muted, pained smile) with her friends. Web forums have flourished with disdain for the poor woman who had tried to avoid this lifestyle as best she could and been calling for their divorce so a real woman can produce a real heir. For now, her sister-in-law has taken a little of the heat off her.

It`s hard to say in the same passage that I enjoy Japan again. You do need to experience it for a long time to see it objectively. I suspect my own positive spin comes from these elements slowly becoming less shocking and allowing me to focus again on the nicer bits. However, the position of women in Japan is grossly inferior to lesser, older men and it has made me fall completely in love with Britain. Many people here say they could never go back home, but I just don`t understand why. On a material level, life can be very enjoyable here, but you have to be blind and dumb to not find the values at work beneath Japanese society chokingly offensive. I eat out more times a week than I used to in a month, and for ugly or unfortunate men, there are other benefits, but there is far more respect for others in Britain. Even counting the bullies, racists, louts and thugs, there is a widespread belief in society that this type of behaviour is wrong. There are rules to stop it, even if people choose to flout them.

This is why I have spates of absolutely HATING the British men who come here and exploit it. Married women are not allowed to work (they are taxed at an exceptionally high rate if they try), are brought up to feel they amount to whatever their Estee Lauder makes them and they (and, to be fair, the men too) should never, ever complain. British men who come here know how wrong this is, it`s far worse for them to milk it than the men who were brought up with it as their normality. Our lot should know better.

You should also know that Stitch is fashionable and Chicken Little is not. As told to me by Miyu today. She is 15, bless her.