It's finally Fall here in Japan, which means that the massive, Godzilla-repelling heat-lamps and steam-engines that cause the appalling Summers here have been wound down, and mothballed for another 9 months. This year, like last was a little longer than expected, though it seemed like the finishing days of sun and humidity of 2003 were not so mean-spirited as 2002. The Sept. 14-15 festival I mentioned in an earlier post was definitely more tolerable than it had been last year, which meant that everyone was relatively nicer to each other.
It's important to note that this is still Japan to which I refer; the relative level of consideration, the average, the ambiguously named "mean" of behavior from one stranger to another is substantially more courteous than what I'm used to in America. There are times when it's hot enough that one feels like one may die, and humid enough that one wishes to take out another. Said result may actually transpire in the USA, whereas in Japan the person will just think about it, then expire, uttering apologies.
The winds have kicked up, and the electric festival lanterns strung up from post-to-post are bouncing and swaying. People consistenly mention the cold as they step out of the train stations and ubiquitous convenience stores, and into the brisk air. This is my season. I don't like being cold -- no one does; it's just easier to dress up for a cold spell than to try and dress down for heat. Jeans, microfleece jackets, pullover sweatshirts, thick socks, and any number of overcoats are in my arsenal. And my tolerance for any temperature is reasonably broad, but tends toward the cooler, where it's easier to think clearly. Now I only have to worry about when they fire up the heaters to OVERLOAD on the trains.
It's important to note that this is still Japan to which I refer; the relative level of consideration, the average, the ambiguously named "mean" of behavior from one stranger to another is substantially more courteous than what I'm used to in America. There are times when it's hot enough that one feels like one may die, and humid enough that one wishes to take out another. Said result may actually transpire in the USA, whereas in Japan the person will just think about it, then expire, uttering apologies.
The winds have kicked up, and the electric festival lanterns strung up from post-to-post are bouncing and swaying. People consistenly mention the cold as they step out of the train stations and ubiquitous convenience stores, and into the brisk air. This is my season. I don't like being cold -- no one does; it's just easier to dress up for a cold spell than to try and dress down for heat. Jeans, microfleece jackets, pullover sweatshirts, thick socks, and any number of overcoats are in my arsenal. And my tolerance for any temperature is reasonably broad, but tends toward the cooler, where it's easier to think clearly. Now I only have to worry about when they fire up the heaters to OVERLOAD on the trains.
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