All for a chicken katsu

 It's fall break for the boys, but not for the parents.  And I'm studying from home right now, so this week is a mix of planning activities out of the house for the boys to do with our nanny and having small excursions when I have breaks in my class.  

Monday we went to try takeout from Taco Rico, a Chipotle-inspired restaurant.  It wasn't bad - we've been in Tokyo long enough that the taste was close enough to be enjoyable.  (I've often found I shouldn't eat my favorite American foods within three months of being in America!)  On the walk to Taco Rico, we passed a lunch spot cooking up tonkatsu (fried pork cutlet), and one kid declared it smelled so good, we had to go back.  

Tuesday the boys explored Tokyo Dome City and ate at Shake Shack (yes, that's here - with local flavor such as a Japanese mushroom burger or a black sesame milk shake, in addition to the more "normal" American options).  So, today became tonkatsu day.  

Two boys opted to make their own lunch from left overs rather than go walk out and about for lunch.  What a treat to (a) have kids old enough now to stay home on their own and make their own lunch and (b) spend an hour with just one of the three! 

As we walked toward where we had smelled that delicious smell on Monday, I warned that some Japanese lunch places have a rotating menu, so maybe the tonkatsu wouldn't be there.  Which sparked an interesting conversation about would the restaurant have, say, five menus (every Monday is tonkatsu?), 20 menus, or 365?  Or maybe it would have tonkatsu every day and only do that.  Sadly, today's choices were spicy chicken curry or a "hambagu" (hamburger patty with other sides).  The boy said usually those would be ok, but he really wanted tonkatsu, soo.... 

We went on a hunt as I was fairly sure I remembered a chicken restaurant had yakitori, chicken curry, and chicken katsu for their daily takeout options.  Thankfully it did.

But, then, we arrived at 11:15 ... and the restaurant didn't open until 11:30.  AND it only took cash, but I didn't quite have enough not having checked my wallet when we left.  After all the walking hunting for katsu, his little legs were a bit tired - and he didn't want to have to walk all the way back home to get cash and then go back.  

But, this being a family-run chicken place, I knocked on the door and of course the wife who doubles as the hostess and order taker opened the door, even thought it was a little early.  I apologized for being early, but explained we were looking for chicken katsu for my son, but I had forgotten my cash.  And would it be too much trouble for him to wait in the entry way while I ran back for some money?  She of course said it was no problem for her to watch him, and off I went while her husband prepared our take out. 

I returned with the payment, and I doubt while I was gone my child even looked up from my phone which I left with him :)  In any case, off we went, chicken katsu in hand.  And said child declared, "next time I want it, I can walk here myself and order myself, because I can point to what I want on the picture paper and easily give her 1,000 yen.  That's good to know!"  So, I guess I don't have to worry about him ever going hungry :) 

Wondering what else is hidden

Every country has its own financial system, but in my experience so far, Japan's is quite unique.  It relies significantly on bank transfers to pay bills - credit cards are used (though not to the extent as in the US) and, aside from PayPal for some online purchases, I haven't really discovered yet other e-payment systems.  ATMs often only function during business hours (pro-tip: most 7-11 convenience stores are 24/7, so if you need to get cash at odd hours, that's my go-to.)

Anyway.  Though we usually try to avoid setting up a local bank account when we move, it seemed inevitable here.  Even if we didn't have, say, soccer team payments, the highway EZ-Pass equivalent can only be linked to a domestic Japanese credit card... which can only be paid by a domestic Japanese bank account.  Thus, as we do hope to take some road trips with our new-to-us Honda Odyssey, no choice but to open a local account.  One of my Japanese teachers dubbed this the "Galapagos Mentality" -- as an island nation, they keep things locally-specific.  

With the post office bank account all set up, we ventured out today to attempt two bank transfers.  The ATM had a "English" button, but no options looked promising.  On the Japanese screen there was a "EZ Pay" button, but clicking that then required a "payment code" which wasn't in any of the bills I had received.  After a few minutes of staring at the other Japanese and English options, I asked the post office employee for some help.  

She showed us which button to push and walked us through the Japanese menu choices - needless to say, it wasn't too hard once we knew what to push and learned the Japanese banking words (not really something taught in diplomatic Japanese classes or in my university literature and culture focused classes).  After she left, we even paid the second bill on our own with only one incorrect button.  Yay. 

Then out of curiosity, we went back to the English menu to see what we had missed.  Only to find that the option choices under the English menu really were completely different.  We never found a way to pay an account in another bank.  

Which makes me wonder, as we go about daily life here, what else might be hidden when using the English version of things rather than the Japanese one?  Thankfully my Japanese is good enough that, with not too much effort, we can power through in the Japanese versions.  But if Greg or Lea are trying something on their own - or if I'm just feeling tired - I think there will definitely be things we will miss.  

I'm 100% sure this probably happened in Vietnam, too, but my Vietnamese was never quite strong enough to be so aware of it.  All the more reason to try and operate as much as possible in Japanese, so we don't get an edited version of what might be out there.

"What is it like, all that moving?"

I spent about 20 minutes on the phone today with an Amica representative, finally closing out all our US-based insurance policies  I really lament that Amica doesn't have policies for people living overseas, because they really have fantastic customer service.  They've been so patient and responsive - from quickly handling a fender bender we had days before we moved to explaining what we should close when based on what situation we were in.  Anyway, that is a different story.  

Today, wrapping up the lose ends, as the agent was reading through the notes in our file over last last two months while we were waiting for the systems to confirm everything was closed out, she said, "wow, Japan. That's really exciting.  What's it like, all that moving?"

I gave her my usual anodyne answer, as that's what people expect to hear: "It has its challenges, but overall is exciting and enjoyable for us."  Then I paused and added, "This move was a little weird, since we don't know when we can visit home next."  She commiserated on the COVID-induced travel restrictions (I mean, even when we were in MD, we didn't visit family in TX, so at some level it doesn't matter where we are).  But, she really wanted to know what it was like to move especially overseas.  

We do it so often, I couldn't really encapsulate it for her well.  But, after I hung up the phone, the perfect example presented itself. 

Moving so much is - having two drawers full of cords and constantly rearranging which ones you are using where, hoping you don't have to buy yet another one, to try and adjust the outlets to fit the way you'd like to set up your house.  In other words, trying to use what you have and know, but also knowing when to let go of the familiar and embrace the new and present.

When you live in one house, you don't really think about the outlets.  Lamps, TVs, gadgets -- all have their proper place.  Maybe an occasional furniture rearrangement or introduction of a new gadget will necessitate a review of what is where, but in general, those sorts of things stay put.  

But over the moves, we've had such oddly placed outlets, and such a variety of plugs, sometimes necessitating transformers, we've accumulated quite the collection. And we try things out and have to adjust when we figure out what does or doesn't work (like after this morning's near meltdown when one child realized, again, he plugged his school laptop into the plug that was attached to the light switch and the switch was off over night... So, what extension cords did we have to enable him to plug in his laptop in that corner of the room rather than another? And praying as we sort through the box that we can use something we have and don't have to buy yet another cord!).  

Thankfully this time, with adjusting a few cords from other rooms, we could use what we had.