Japan's Skinny Apartment Buildings

Less than a foot (0.305m) wide?

Does Japan hate fat people?

Despite its love affair with the art of o-sumo (sumo wrestling) that has made it its national sport, if you were to look at this blog and this blog entry alone, you might think the country had something against the horizontally-challenged.

I don't know if that's a real term or not, or even if it makes sense, but in my head it sure does.

Regardless, this blog offers the skinny on Japan's  ultra thin buildings - it's living and work spaces.

Lots of cities around the world have one, and it ends up becoming a bit of a local landmark. But Japan seems to have more than its fair share.

Buildings that seem to have an inner width of less than eight-feet are prevalent enough for some photographers to amass quite a wide collection. In fact, some pundits - like myself - would say that if you were to take a photograph of each skinny building in Japan and place them atop each other and lay them sideways, it would be wider than the individual width of many of these buildings.

Now I didn't take any photos of such skinny buildings while in Japan, and I'm not going to steal all of these photos from the web, suffice to say that the one up above came from the website listed below... as such, please visit the site HERE for an intriguing look at some very cool architecture that happens to be skinnier than any building I have ever seen here in North America.

I mean, seriously... look at the width of the hallway above. I have a 48-inch (1.22m) chest. If I tried to walk straight through, I would get stuck. Cripes, can you imagine if a body met a body coming through the rye? Number one, you'd better pray it's a good-looking member of the opposite sex (if that's your thing), because the two of you are going to be mashing groins - and not in a fun way.

I know that there is supposed to be a lack of land to build upon in some urban areas of Japan. And I know that the Japanese people as a whole aren't overly tall or big-boned. And I know there is the precedent of the capsule hotels, but to actually have a home this small is ridiculous.

I had a three-bedroom LDK (living room, dining room, kitchen), plus two balconies, a large laundry and bathroom area in my $320 (~Y26,500 Yen)-a-month apartment building in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan. Of course this was between 1990-1993, so surely that whole city has run out of room to build affordable housing, what with all of the rice fields and 7-11's that populate the place. There were literally four 7-11's within a one kilometer radius of my apartment building. While I could not necessarily throw a rock and hit a rice field from my location, I could probably do it in four throws. Five maybe... as the old arm ain't what it used to be. Afterall, Ohtawara does translate into Big-Rice Field-Field—they have so  many fields that they had to mention it twice.

But why Japan? Why make such skinny apartments? Is it because people work so hard and for long hours that they are never at home? I mean, 7-1/2 feet wide (2.29m)? There are sexual positions in the Kama Sutra which could never be undertaken owing to a lack of space (not to mention flexibility).

Really... one good Godzilla swat from his rubbery tail, and a whole swathe of skinny buildings would collapse faster than the Icelandic or Irish economy! Hmm. Beware of economic disaster in countries starting with the letter I... which if you actually look at that letter, it's about as wide as some of these Japanese buildings.

Stop the elevator, this is my floor... uh, can you scoot over a little so I can get out? Oh god, I have groceries... I'll never make it to my apartment! Oh well... at least I'll have food to eat here in the hall until I can lose weight due to starvation... and then and only then perhaps I can shimmy to my apartment if I still have any energy or life left in me.

Cripes... all I know is that sometimes after I eat a few foods I shouldn't eat, I get bloated. I'd never make it down the hall to use the communal toilet. And then everyone is going to be sorry as I soil myself in the hallway.

Check out the photo above. In Japan, I was unable to get shoes that fit me, as my Size 10-1/2 US (30cm) were not commercially available... I believe they stopped at size 27cm in Japan—a 9US, I think.

Now look at the girl in the photo... do you think she has a size 9 - in Men's?! No way. Even if she had a large foot for a Japanese woman, let's estimate that she is wearing a Size 8, which is the equivalent of a Size 6 Men's shoe. I'm going to guesstimate that she has feet that are seven-inches long... with maybe three inches of space between her feet and the walls. That's 10-inches (25.4 cm) for my amateurish calculation of the width of the hall.

As a comparison, the width of my body appears to be 18-inches (facing you) and about 12 inches (30cm) thick at my chest. Forgetting about the fact that I have a well-muscled rump, I'd never actually be able to traverse the hallway to either get to my apartment or get to the washroom. I could never visit anyone there. Ever. Hmmm... maybe this is a plot to keep out the gaijin (foreigners), who are generally taller, thicker and even fatter than most Japanese folks. Nawwww. I don't believe the Japanese architects are that devious at all! Really... I don't.

Anyhow... enjoy the photos of the skinny buildings (in the Link near the top of this blog - 7th paragraph) and be thankful you aren't skinny enough or desperate enough to have to live in one.

I have bookcases wider than the interior of some of these places... and my king-sized bed? Dame dayo (Totally useless)! Really, though... what sort of furnishings do people use in a rabbit hutch like these thin joints? I have a hunch - but probably not as great as the folks living there.

Cheers
Andrew Joseph   
And no - Japan does not hate fat people.

Rocket Man

Cripes. It's Sunday, September 1, 1991 - school starts tomorrow. I live in the small city of Ohtawara in Tochigi Prefecture in Japan. I've been here for 13 months, and I have greatly enjoyed my time here in this strange but wonderful country. The only thing that screws me up is the woman situation.

It's true that I came to this country nearly 26-years-old and still more virginal than a Catholic girl's school, but quickly got over that - though I wonder if I could become a born-again virgin, y'know, just for old time's sake. I've already hit double digits, despite having an unsteady relationship with Ashley for 10 months. Every time we were off again, I was on again with some woman who would literally throw herself at me. Crap like that never happened back in Canada. Never... I could have been on fire in my Toronto-area high school cafeteria or university or college, and not one single woman would have even noticed. Sometimes Canada is a really stupid country.

Even now in 2011, how come I never get hit on? Are women that lazy here - sit back and let the men come onto them, shoot them down and choose the one guy who looks super good but knows it? Welcome to Toronto's bar scene.

In Japan, it's a rare event when I don't have some woman try and talk to me at a bar. It's even rarer that I don't have a girlfriend or regular or even semi-regular sexual partner - but that's what is going on in my life here in Ohtawara. As such... I'm moody and agitated.

Up at 10:30AM, my friend Matthew who lives five minutes away comes over to my apartment. We then walk over to his place and get a ride from his girlfriend Takako to the Asian Rural Institute in the north end of town. They are hosting a picnic at Shinoyama Koen (Shinoyama Park). The Institute is a place for farmers from India, China, Pakistan, Indonesia - heck - Asia - to learn Japanese farming techniques so that they can go back home and apply it there.

Ohtawara, despite only having 50,000 people in it, seems to have a plethora of foreigners living in its boundaries. Along with the 12 people at the Institute (I've never seen so many brown people in one area before - I'm actually from white middle-class suburbia in Etobicoke - a city within Metropolitan Toronto and as of 2011 am still pretty much the only visible minority on the block... some 37 years after I first came to the area), there are also a lot of Japanese businesses (technical types) that have a few gaijin (foreigners) working at their plant for short contracts (from Canada and the US mainly). And there's Matthew & myself who live in Ohtawara, a few New Zealand bartenders, and others scattered around... it's no wonder this burg has an Ohtawara International Friendship Association!

And yet... despite the preponderance of foreigners, most of Ohtawara still seems stunned when they see me, as I am still often the first foreigner they have ever seen. I guess I get out a lot. (Matthew, too!).

At the picnic: It's hot out today. Bloody hot. India in August hot. Hovering at around 39 Celsius.As soon as I get there, I go for a beer and relax. It's a good thing I never (ever) get hang-overs, or I'd be a dead man every day in this country!

As I sit by myself, I overhear people from the Institute talking with Business foreigners with some Japanese locals (there are a few in Ohtawara) about me. They talk in Japanese and in English. I can't speak Japanese worth a damn, but it appears as though I understand a heck of a lot more than I should. When the heck did that happen?

These people are gossiping about me with me sitting maybe 15 feet (4.6 meters) away! They are talking about the number of girlfriends I seem to have.

I don't correct them on that, but do state that I currently have no girlfriends, and don't want one.

My friend Naoko.

Naoko, a Japanese lady friend with the Friendship Association, is ever nearby and asks me 'Why?" I tell her it's because people are always spying on me or gossiping about me, and how could I do that to another woman. Naoko quickly runs off and disappears in the crowd. And it seems like there is a crowd of maybe 100 people.

Suddenly the party-goers at the park, part like the Red Sea for Moses, and I see Naoko talking with Shoko, the very pretty, shy and quiet Japanese local who likes me and me her. Shoko is one of the students in my extra-curricular night time English conversation class I teach (and get paid handsomely) for the Friendship Association.

Feeling stupid from the alcohol and the heat, I want to get away from the gossipy gossipers, so I move off and try and hide. But, Matthew, ever-concerned for my mental health, follows me to ensure I am not by myself. Apparently I yelled my responses back to the gossipers.

Then Shoko comes over and quickly asks me out on a date!? God I love this country. I had always been reluctant to go out with her because I was afraif of the language barrier. Shoko was too, or maybe she just always figured I had a girlfriend and didn't want to be part of the revolving sextrade I had going for me in my apartment building.

Cool. Next Friday she and I will go out for drinks over at the 4C, if I am not too tired from my daily routine of working three hours a day team-teaching (with a Japanese teacher of English) at one of my seven junior high schools (chu gakko).

Despite this bit of happiness injected into my bloodstream, I still act and perhaps feel quiet, shy or aloof. I don't mingle much. I guess I'm still upset about people talking about me within earshot expecting that I wouldn't hear or understand them.

Even back in 1990 and 1991, I had always threatened Ashley (and others) by stating: "Never, ever piss off a writer." Twenty years later, I guess I'm proving my point.

After the picnic, Matthew and I head back to my place and watch some Sherlock Holmes episodes I had taped on my bilingual television and VCR (video tape recorder). We then go to some place called the Orient Club to exercise for three hours. I have no idea why Matthew even knows of this place, but he knows a way more about Ohtawara than I do, as he seems to have more of an explorers spirit, and a greater Japanese language ability than I will ever have. I guess that's why he has a Japanese girlfriend, and I only have a first date with a quiet, shy and reserved cutie pie.

The Orient Club has light cycles, treadmills, stair masters and some other stuff. It's a smallish place, but very clean and well run. We go for a swim, a sauna and then an onsen (it's like a hot tub but a bit bigger). I weigh myself when w start. It's 76.45 kilograms (168.45 pounds), and when we are done, I'm down to 75.85 kilograms (167.22 pounds)! My blood pressure seems a little high at 143/80. My body is hurting, but with the weight loss (I'm not fat! Yay!) I feel good.

Matthew and when finished, go over to the fastfood restaurant Mosburger. It's my favourite comfort food, and Matthew seems to know that. Give me convenience or give me death! Of course our supper blows all of our training, but who cares?!

My mom and dad call me at 12:30AM to let me know she arrived home safely in Toronto after mom came out to visit me here in Japan. Despite the lateness of the hours, I don't care - I couldn't sleep anyway... thinking about Karen, Kristine, Ashley, Shoko and my threesome with two hot Thai women a couple of weeks ago. That's why I'm so moody!

For five days in Thailand, I was getting sex four plus times a day for five days. Now I am not. Karen wants to be boyfriend girlfriend (and I just want sex); Ashley offers sex when she wants to as a friend-with-benefits (I also want a relationship); Kristine - I want a relationship, but she lives 500 kilometres away, and I think she's probably too good for me; and Shoko who I assume wants a relationship with me (but I'm unsure what I want with her - sex, yes, but a relationship with a nice Japanese girl would be a step up for me here in Japan - I am concerned about how we are going to communicate with each other when we have a language barrier. A physical relationship is fine, but I do want more.

Hmmm. Karen is offering me that (and my mom likes her; didn't like Ashley; probably would have loved Kristine; and been luke-warm with Shoko due to communication difficulties) but something about Karen is off-putting. Probably my need to have Ashley back as a girlfriend. I am so screwed up in the head still.

Hey Matthew - I don't think there is enough Mosburger in the world to make me feel better.

Somewhere restless,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by Elton John: BLAST-OFF!
PS: I don't sleep well again - a recurring event here in Japan... either due to me thinking too much or not enough.

Big Bottoms

There's a new study just released by the Japan Youth Research Institute that nearly 3/4's of female Japanese dai gakkusei (high school students) see themselves as being overweight - and this is despite evidence that they are actually thinner than their contemporaries in China, South Korea and the U.S.

It's true. I used to wander around the out fringes of the girl's high school in Ohtawara (I'm pretty sure they wouldn't have let me onto the school grounds because I'm a sukebe (pervert)), and they looked pretty darn fit to be tied, I mean pretty darn fit to me.

The study also noted that both male and female Japanese high schoolers ranked the lowest in self-esteem  amongst the four countries. Hmmmm. That really does suck.

The poll, which queried over 7,000 high school students from the four countries also examined their dietary habits, excercise and other factors to gauge their mental and physical health.

Okay... Japanese kids - especially over their U.S. and Canadian peers, must be in better shape. These kids have phys ed. and club activities all the time. Mentally... well, I'm pretty sure the pressure of having to perform like a trained monkey and having to ace their exams to get into a good university (and thus get a decent job upon graduation that they will hold for the rest of their life) is extremely stressful - and should they fail, I could see many of them becoming disillusioned with themselves.

It's a pity. I know that here in Canada, I never really tried untilI was 23 years old. I had squeaked into university, squeaked by andafter five years got a degree in Political Science, and then got into aJournalism program in college (When I began trying in school). I hadplenty of opportunities to screw up and plenty of opportunities toright my sinking ship. The U.S. has that too - but I'm reasonably surethat Korea, China and Japan do not.


As well, Japanese students saw themselves harshly, with only 7.5agreeing with the statement that they were 'a valuable person.'

Japaneseteens also ranked lowest on questions of whether they evaluatedthemselves positively, were satisfied with themselves and if theyconsidered themselves highly capable.

Somewhere still screwing up,
Andrew Joseph
Today's title is by Spinal Tap: ELEVEN.
PS: The image above is from www.clker.com, and is owned by Brain Waves LLC, a Maryland Limited LiabilityCorporation. Clker and Clker.com are trademarks of Brain Waves LLC.

New World Man

After my second year in Japan, I decided to go back to Toronto for a short vacation of three weeks... you know, to recharge my batteries and to buy some clothes.

That's one of the problems with Japan - getting clothes that fit. Even back in 1992, though I had put on a few pounds, I wasn't enormous by any stretch of the imagination. Sure I may have arrived in Japan as a 172 lb (78 kg) guy and arrived back in Toronto at 187 lbs (84.8 kg), but I was still 5-10-1/2" (183 cm)... or whatever I had shrunk down to (LITTLE MEN).

Regardless of my weight gain, they don't make shirts in my size (36-inch (91.44 cm) chest--though after working out for a few years, I'm currently a 48-inch (121.92 cm)). Even t-shirts were a stretch, if you know what I mean.

I have size 10-1/2 feet (30 cm) - big but not huge - which in Japan means I would take a size 30. They only make size 27 and below. In Toronto, I cheaped out and bought an inexpensive pair of running shoes. 

Anyhow... back in Toronto, my friends and family both remarked at how much weight I had put on - that the Japanese way of life must be agreeing with me. I suppose it must have. I certainly couldn't disagree. I don't do anything I don't enjoy doing, and I was certainly going back for a third and final year as an Assistant English Teacher (AET)  on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme (I might even have stayed longer, but the Programme only allows for three years).

Upon arriving home in Ohtawara at the end of August (yes, I called it home), I decided to do something about my (to me) sudden weight gain. I guess I do love Japanese food!

I decided I would go jogging. On a Thursday night at 9PM, I rode my bicycle over to Ohtawara Junior High School (aka Dai Chu - which translates into Big Middle), as they had a track I could use. The school itself was maybe a two-kilometre ride, but it's a pleasant one through a few rice fields. Okay, Ohtawara is mostly rice fields (and 7-11's), but still, it's a nice ride past the frogs croaking melodiously as they do whatever it is frogs do in the wet, almost-ready-to-harvest  rice paddies.

That first night at the track, it was just me and a student from Dai Chu. That student was with his father, and he was sprinting, then jogging, walking and repeating. Training or just getting into even better shape.

Me? I decided I was going to do four laps around the track - 1600 metres. After the first 100 metres, it was obvious that I wasn't going to make it if I didn't slow down to a granny's pace (no offense to any grannies, of course, as I'm sure some of them could have easily beaten me around the track). It was a very painful journey  - at least it was for the first lap... and then it became tortuous. That second and third lap was a blur... all I can remember was that I kept screaming at myself to keep going... just another corner, now another half lap... now I'm only half-way done... lungs burning, feet hurting... don't black out. I may have, who knows when they do?

Somehow I completed my goal of four laps (1600 m)... bent over and gasped for breath. It took me 34 minutes. Roger Bannister and the four-minute mile it ain't.

I then had to ride home. I moaned and kvetched the entire time. 
   
Still... the next evening at 9PM... I went back out and did it again... except I added another lap (400 metres). And since I was without a girlfriend (Ashley had gone home forever), I continued to go running every night - each time added another lap... another 400 metres. My goal was to reach 10 kilometres (10,000 metres).

Believe it or not, I did it... I didn't miss a night, and the running, while still painful, was getting easier (except for that last lap I would add). That first time I ran 10 km, it took me 57 minutes.... I continued to run the 10km for a couple of weeks after that, and eventually got down to 37 minutes... which I only later learned was pretty good - the current world record is 26 minutes - so my time, by a non-Kenyan or non-Etiopian was pretty darn good. Canada's record is around 28 minutes. Japan's is about 30 seconds faster.

So... while not world-class, I was getting there.

It seems that my little running companion - whom I gasped a konichiwa (hello) to a few times, had told a few of his friends that the gaijin (foreigner) AET was jogging every night. While there was not a big crowd to see me, there were maybe 10 hardy individuals who would come out to watch - not cheer me on,  mind you - just watch, and leave quietly as I finished and continued to gasp for breath.

I think they may have just come to see if I would either puke or die... or perhaps die while puking. I did not die.

I'm guessing that these students must have told a teacher or two at Dai Chu, who in turn told people at the OBOE (Ohtawara Board of Education) who pay my salary. After a visit into work on a Friday, my boss, Kanemaru-san, was grinning at me more than usual. He said that he heard I was doing a lot of running every day and that I had, just last night, run 10 km in 37 minutes.

I'd ask how the heck he knew that, but as a popular fellow in Ohtawara, people like to keep tabs on me pretty well... and this is way before Twitter!

He told me that the OBOE had taken it upon themselves to enter me in the Ohtawara Marathon on November 23, 1992 - just after my 28th birthday. I blanched! I can't run a marathon - I've only just got up to 10 km!

He smiled that evil grin of his and explained that the Ohtawara Marathon was indeed a 10 km race. Zounds and gadzooks! He had me.

When you are popular, famous, unpopular or infamous, people want to see how you perform - either hoping for success or failure, and that scared the heck out of me. I needed to train more.

I went out again that night and ran - attempting to better my 37-minute record... but a funny thing happened... perhaps it was anxiety or paranoia, or just my cheap running shoes - but I developed shin splints. My shins hurt like heck after only running 5-km!I should have stopped then, but I needed to train, to not let them down.

I had to take a month-plus off to rest my legs... which of course led me right up until the day of the race.

Not wanting to let the OBOE or Kanemaru-san down, I rode my bicycle over to the race. Memory escapes me as to where the starting line was - but, all I had to do was sign-in. The day before, Kanemaru-san had presented me with my official Ohtawara Marathon number - 5231 - which also had my name written in the bottom right corner in Katakana: A-N-Do-Ri-Yu-- you can see that in the photo at the top, just in case you think I make everything up! The race was sponsored by Toshiba, whom I believe have a big factory in the city - in case you can't read Japanese. Sorry.

The gun went off, and myself and hundreds of fellow runners raced away. Immediately, I knew I was in trouble - no, not from the shin splints, which had healed completely, but rather from the race itself.

You see, in all of my nightly jogging, I ran around a nice spongy track, turning left (counter-clock-wise) repeatedly. This darn marathon was a road race, run on the roads of Ohtawara, up and down inclines.After several minutes of ego-maniacal running near the front, it was obvious to me that there was no way in Beppu, that I was ever going to be able to finish this race.

I lasted until the 4-km mark before lack of wind (I know, that seems impossible), and my legs (calves and thighs) were screaming at me to stop, for the love of kami (God), please stop. Rightly or wrongly, I listened to my body.

While the OBOE was very supportive of me and my effort, I can't help but feel I let them, and myself, down. After that day, no one ever brought up me running again... and I must admit, I stopped jogging.

But it doesn't really matter. After all, I did accomplish what I had set out to do. I lost weight and was again 172-lbs.

Somewhere with shinsplints,
Andrew Joseph
Today's title is by Toronto's own, Rush. You can hear this great song at this link: REBELANDARUNNER. 
PS: The photo below is a page that you get when you complete the Ohtawara Marathon - crossing the finish line, someone takes your photo... which is what is supposed to be pasted on the right side. Mine is blank, obviously.