Tax time is spooling up here in Japan. Fun times ahead for everyone at the office, I’m sure. The calendar year for taxes in Japan runs January 1st to December 31st. Tax returns need to be filed between February and March. In this way, it is very similar to Canada. A major difference comes from what is sitting in front of me in the picture: The Nenmatsu Chosei (年末調整) [nen-mah-tsu choh-say], or “Year-End Tax Adjustment.” Typically, your employer withholds some amount from each paycheque as Withholding Tax and forwards it on to the government. This tax is an estimation of what you owe based on currently known details such as your dependants, spouse, and so on. Because these details are not being constantly updated as they happen, you ultimately need to fill out an income tax return to clarify everything and settle up with the government. The amount deducted from your paycheque is basically a down payment towards the income tax you owe, so that you don’t get hit with a gigantic bill at the end of each year (imagine paying out the total amount your employer withheld in income tax in one big lump every year. Would you be able to budget for that by yourself?). Taxation in this way also provides a steady stream of tax revenue to the government that is spread out over a year. In Japan, the Year-End Tax Adjustment is how you verify the taxes withheld and declare any changes to things which might affect your return. Your employer is then responsible for filing this adjustment with the government. Once you fill out this adjustment form and submit it to your employer, your work is pretty much done. People in Japan only have to fill out a full tax return (like the ones we are used to in Canada and other places) if they meet certain conditions. Basically, if you meet the following conditions, you don’t need to go screwing around with a tax return in February-March: 1. Earn less than ¥20,000,000 annually (about $180,000). 2. All your salary or wages comes from a single employer. 3. That income is subject to withholding tax. 4. Income (excluding from employment and retirement) is ¥200,000 or less (about $1,800). After the form is submitted, you get your typical “Bonus Payday” or “Bonus Debt”, same as everyone else that deals with tax returns. For people (like me, for instance) who only work one job where they aren’t making serious bank, this process is less burdensome on them. It is also very helpful for retirees, who can also qualify provided they receive less than a certain amount of public pension income.

This is how my journey began. A massive 13,056km trip to the far side of the Pacific. Not quite sure how Newfoundland ended up mostly under the ocean in this screenshot. Anyway, I mentioned on the day that I left that this is a small change which I hope will bring about big changes. I have been stuck in a rut for most of my life, so I am hoping that making a major shake-up like this will throw the status quo into chaos. For better or for worse, I am hoping that this experience changes me and gets my life rolling.

Bob and Azuki were my favourites, which is why I got a feather from each of them. There are single feathers on sale from some of the owls. Which ones are available comes down to when a certain owl ends up shedding one of their feathers. The course I went with included souvenirs as well. A glass jar and some postcards, along with a button. I also left a little something from home: a Puffin toy for the owls and a Puffin pin/bookmark. For those wondering, they are very soft to touch. Owl feathers aren't oily like a lot of other birds. Owls sacrifice the weatherproofing of such oils, but in return it greatly reduces the sound they make when they fly, which is better for hunting. Although I did not get to see it myself, the owls bathe by jumping in a tub of water and splashing it over themselves, or by getting misted with water from a squirt bottle. Sometimes both methods are used at the same time. See my previous posts about my verdict on Owl Village Harajuku and the context behind it. Normally I would never post pictures or videos of my fat ass, but I'll make an exception this time, since some things are impossible to show otherwise.

Today is Sports Day in Japan (スピーツの日) [su-po-tsu-no-hee]. It is a public holiday that falls on the second Monday of October. It used to be called Health and Sports Day. Should be pretty self-explanatory as to what it is about. It was established as a public holiday in 1966 to commemorate the 1964 Summer Olympics that were held in Tokyo, which was a fairly significant event: -First Olympics held in Asia -First Olympics to be broadcast internationally -First Olympics broadcast in colour -Latest opening ceremony for Summer Olympics (October 10th) [Second latest overall, after Mexico 1968]

Today was Appreciation of the Arts day at Yuri High School. In the afternoon the entire school attended a musical performance at the Yurihonjo City Cultural Center KADARE. The musical is called "Youthful Life! ~Yuri High School Folk Song Club Story~". Two of the performers are alumni of the high school. Couldn't tell you what it was about, but it’s Japan, so my guess is shy girl gets involved in a club where she meets shy boy and there's drama and love and general nostalgia for the halcyon days of high school. That's about what I picked up based on context and half-understood Japanese. School days, and youth in general, are a popular theme in Japanese entertainment. Probably has something to do with the fact that Japan has no idea what "work-life balance" means, so adults try and relive the glory days of no responsibilities or crushing work schedules whatever way they can.

Today was Emergency Preparedness Day at the school. In the afternoon, there was an assembly in the gym that included some children from the nearby pre-school and members of the community living nearby. The school is a designated shelter in the event of a disaster. The students and members of the community practiced assembling a cardboard bed and a tent. In the event of an emergency, people would go to the school for shelter and these tent/bed kits would be distributed to set up in the gym. The students managed the beds fine, but there were certainly some struggles with the tents.

Yokai Example #2: Nurikabe (塗り壁) From the “asshole” branch of the Yokai tree, we have the Nurikabe. Nurikabe (塗り壁) means “plastered wall” and refers to a Yokai which sets up invisible walls to block doorways or paths. In other tales, it blocks the door or pathway itself (it is invisible). It is described as being too tall to climb over and often too wide to walk around. I have not seen any stories or tales where it is hostile. It simply exists to inconvenience you. The idea is that Nurikabe originated as an explanation for why people traveling long distances, or in the dark, ended up losing their sense of direction and getting lost. A way to supposedly defeat it is to tap the bottom left corner of the wall, such as with a walking stick. Tapping elsewhere won’t get him out of your way. The main depiction of the Nurikabe comes from the Bakemonozukushie (The Illustrated Index of Supernatural Creatures), which is a scroll from the Edo period (1603-1868) that depicts 35 different bakemono (yokai that can transform into things or shapeshift). Although the picture is labeled as “Nurikabe”, there is debate as to whether it is meant to portray the same Nurikabe as the one I have described here, mainly because it looks more like a dog than a wall. Below is the depiction of the Nurikabe from the historic scroll, as well as a pop-culture interpretation of a Nurikabe from the video game series "Nioh".

I forgot to post this while in Tokyo: This is a Suica (sue-ee-ka) card. It is one of the main transit/IC cards in Japan, mainly used for the Japan Railway East network. You can load it up at train stations and scan it for buses, subways, and trains which support it. It is also very commonly used for making purchases at stores and even from vending machines. There have been shortages of them since the pandemic due to supply issues of semi-conductors, but I was able to get mine easily from Tokyo Station. They used to have many different designs, but I think supply has not quite recovered enough for that. They have also been encouraging more people to use the phone app instead of physical cards. If you ever plan to visit a major city centre in Japan, I would recommend setting yourself up with this or the smartphone app. It is far more convenient than constantly digging around for change every time you pass through a fare gate or bus or want a drink.

Since it is the spooky month of October (and also because I have no travel plans until November), I will (poorly) introduce a piece of Japanese history/culture. Yōkai (妖怪) is a term in Japanese folklore referring to spirits, ghosts, demons, and monsters. The kanji which make up the word mean "strange, abnormal, suspicious" and so on. Basically, unexplained creatures. These creatures can be evil or benevolent, mischievous or hostile, and some of them are just pains in the ass. The concept of these creatures originated around the year 772, possibly earlier. Different Yōkai are a way of explaining or personifying different unexplained phenomenon or poorly understood occurrences. Sometimes, they originate from stories told to children to warn them away from certain actions, behaviour, or places. There could be as many as 1,000 different Yōkai in existence. The idea is rooted in Japanese beliefs about Animism, which is a belief that all things, living and inanimate, have a soul or spiritual presence. Example #1: Kuchisake-Onna (口裂け女) - Slit-mouthed Woman There are various origin stories for this Yōkai. One says that the beautiful wife of a Samurai during the Edo period (1600-1868) cheated on him. After discovering this, the samurai was enraged and cut her mouth from ear-to-ear. After death, her vengeful spirit remained in the world. Another story says that a woman wanted to travel to see her lover, but the route was very dangerous for a woman to walk alone. The woman's solution was to wear all white clothing (white is associated with death in Japan, through Buddhism), powder her face white, mess up her hair, carry a candle, and place a crescent-shaped carrot in her mouth. Basically, she made herself look like a ghost with a split mouth so that potential attackers would be scared off, with the legend spreading from there. The modern idea of Kuchisake-Onna is that a woman wearing a surgical mask will approach you at night (usually sneaking up behind you from out of the darkness). She then asks you if you think she is pretty or beautiful: -Answer "Yes", and she will take off her mask to reveal her carved up mouth. She will then ask you the question again. -Answer "Yes" again, and she will take out a knife or pair of large scissors and carve your mouth to look like hers. Alternatively, she will leave, only to secretly follow you home and kill you in your sleep. -Answer "No", and she will kill you in anger. The idea is that this is a Morton's Fork situation, where all answers result in the same end. There are, however, some ways in which the Kuchisake-Onna can reportedly be defeated: -Tell her that she looks "average", then escape into the dark while she is confused as to what to do. -Throw money or hard candy at her and escape while she stops to pick them up. -Say that you are late for an appointment or late to your destination, causing her to apologize and bow (a very Japanese kind of response).  There is no real moral or cautionary tale with this Yōkai. This one is a straightforward ghost story that is still a popular urban legend in the modern era, as represented by the fact that the story now has the Kuchisake-Onna wearing a surgical mask instead of a simple cloth or by covering her mouth with a paper fan. Around 1970, Japanese society was undergoing a shift. More students were attending study schools that often finished late in the evening. As such, many children were heading out into the streets at night and encountering the typical nightlife dwellers that they were unlikely accustomed to (adult entertainers, prostitutes, drunks, etc.), which could explain where the resurgence and modernization of the legend came from. Students now traveled farther for school, so stories would be shared and spread from place to place. (Photo Credit: Matthew Meyer www.yokai.com )

Bringing these (picture below. Tokyo Banana treats) back for my coworkers at the school as omiyage. Omiyage (お土産) [oh‑me‑ya‑gay] means “souvenir” in English, but as a concept it is a little more complicated than that. Omiyage is a Japanese cultural practice that involves bringing gifts back from a trip for coworkers, friends, and family. As the two kanji that help make up the word Omiyage mean “local” and “produce”, these souvenirs are typically edible products which are a local specialty of the place you visited. If you went on a trip to British Columbia, for instance, you would probably bring back something like Nanaimo bars. Omiyage can usually be easily found in major hub areas like train stations and airports. They tend to be nicely packaged or wrapped. So, it’s a little different than simply grabbing a few packages of Jam‑Jams off the shelf at a Sobeys. The act of bringing back omiyage is meant to be a sign of respect and appreciation for others. Especially when it comes to your coworkers, it is an important way to show gratitude for the people who didn’t get to go off and have fun. It shows that you were keeping those people in your thoughts as you traveled and is an acknowledgement that it’s because of them you were able to take time off to go on a trip. Kind of like “Thank you for shouldering the work while I was away.” Also, in reality this is a non‑negotiable practice. It’s something that’s expected from you. Your colleagues almost certainly won’t say anything about it out loud (not to you, anyway), but you bet your ass that they will take note of you coming back empty‑handed and think less of you for it. Some other things to keep in mind: 1. Always insist when giving omiyage (this is more on an individual level than a group one). There are traditional practices in Japan that say to politely refuse a gift at least once as an act of modesty. You may have to offer 3 times before they accept. This can be confusing, because it’s also considered rude to actually refuse a gift for real. 2. Don’t give omiyage in sets of four. Similar to the number 13 in some cultures, 4 is considered an unlucky number in Japan. The reason is because “4” (四) can be pronounced as “shi” [she] in Japanese, which is also the pronunciation of the word “death” (死). 3. If you are handing omiyage to someone (or receiving it from someone), use both hands. This is done a lot outside of omiyage as well, such as with business cards, receipts from stores, money, etc.

A better look at the bullet trains, since it's daylight this time. You can see partway through the video that the trains are connected. The nose cone of the trains open up so that separate trains can link up at mutual stations and then split apart when it's time to head in different directions. The train I am taking will leave Tokyo and head north towards a place called Morioka in Iwate Prefecture. Here, the two trains will decouple. One will head further north, and the other will head West, to Akita.

A plane may still be a bit faster, but in terms of comfort, Shinkansen have them easily beat. Not getting room like this outside of Business/First Class.