Misadventures of a Reluctant Housewife (part one)

Okay, let me start off by saying that I am a reluctant housewife. I mean this as no disrespect to non-reluctant housewives out there. Housewifing is a full-time job. It's just not a job I have any talent for. So I salute you, those of you who can excel at this role.

I'm not sure if it's the fact that I've never done without a job or school before. I'm not sure if it's the fact that I'm completely sure housewife experience will not impress the universities I apply to for masters school. I'm not sure if it's the fact that the first time I ever put my atrophied domestic skills to use, I choose to do it in Japan. I'm not sure what it is, but I'm finding this job to be a lot more difficult than I foresaw.


Now I know some of you are nodding sagely as they read, just as I know that some of you are thinking "Pftt. How bout' some cheese with that whine?" I'd like to dedicate this blog post to all of the latter people.

Ahem. You may be all smug and cocky now, but you wouldn't last ten minutes as a Japanese housewife! I know your type. You'd shatter under the pressure like a balsa wood airplane in the hands of an energetic grade schooler.

Oh you want an example?

Fine. Let's start with something easy. Grocery store run. We all gotta eat. As a Japanese housewife you absolutely must be able to buy groceries.

First, I get on my maa maa cheri other wise known as a one speed, upright bicycle with a basket. You didn't realize you'd need a basket? See? This is why you need me, you're green.
Anyway I get on my bike and ride to the store. When I ride I ride on the left side of the street. I know your Western brain wants to turn those handle bars over to the right side of the street, but that way leads to swift and messy downfall. The left side is where its at.

On my commute to the store I pass this thing :


What is that smiling thing? I have no clue. I wonder every time I pass it.

Eventually I do get to the store and it looks like this:
That's right Jois. The store's name is Jois. Care to try pronouncing that? Yeah I thought not.I start off with something easy: sugar. I want to make sweet tea and that means I need sugar.

Sugar comes in kilos here, and is sold in bricks. Let me tell you from experience, buying bricks of white powder that come by the kilo makes you feel like a little bit like a drug dealer. Oh and before I forget, on the same isle are kilo sized bricks of salt. They are NEARLY IDENTICAL if you can't read Japanese.
After sugar, the temptation to continue shopping habits that were established in America comes on strong. This temptation is soon squelched by the fact that western food is outrageously expensive here. I submit three food items that are relatively cheap in America: pasta sauce, Budweiser beer and spam.
Pasta is the refuge of every broke college student. It's cheap, filling and somewhat nutritious. Above yous see the price of 348 yen for a tiny jar. ( Yen to Dollar 101: move that decimal two spaces over and you have a rough approximation of your price in dollars. 348 yen= $3.48) Also, take into consideration that every meal has to feed people who walk or bike everywhere and you suddenly realize that it's going to take at least three of these little jars to do the trick.
Your eyes do not deceive you. It is about $2.05 for a single Budweiser beer when it is on sale. Guinness is a heart-breaking three dollars a pop.

Look at that! A tin of spam for $5.48. You can buy real meat for that kind of money. (Yes that is spam sushi. I don't know either.)

Okay, so it's too expensive to shop like an American. Time to start shopping like a Japanese housewife. I head to the fish isle, and I am completely overwhelmed. Guys, you have no idea how many different kinds of fish there are. You also don't know how lucky you have it, when most of your fish comes in precious little pre-cut fillets. Fish that stare back at you are part of life here. Occasionally swallowing a bone (because there are roughly eleven billiondy in every fish and they are impossible to see) is also a part of life.
Here's a few little snap shots of the fish sections:
Consequentially, if anyone knows what these hermit-crab looking things are, do let me know.


This is squid.
And this is octopus. Now here's a question for the ages. Red tags mean that items are on sale. Red tags usually go on items that are nearing their expiration dates. Should I risk buying red-tag octopus or squid?


Are you starting to grasp it? How difficult it can be to be a Japanese housewife? Very well. A small break for now. More later.
(To be continued in part two)