The Tokyo Weekly Mansion is filled with models. I have always imagined Tokyo as a major fashion centre but, being distinctly fashion un-inclined, never thought I’d find myself anywhere near it. While I admire the wearers and makers of the clothing design world and would like to think the best of models in the industry, I have been urged to believe the opposite even in the short time we have lived among them.

Three models live at the end of the hallway, another two across the way, and several on the floors above us I have the…er…pleasure of riding with in the elevator down to the lobby. To the list of things I have learned on this trip, please add: models are smelly, loud, rude, and cheap. It shocks me that people so beautiful and so admirable would bathe irregularly if at all, hassle the poor non-english-speaking general manager, or belt out portuguese pop lyrics in the hallways during the wee hours of the morning, but they do so often and without qualm. After weeks of finally adjusting to the strangely formal culture of the country, the models seem oddly out of place in this bow-heavy, service-centered world.

Japan, although not as dissimilar to the West as I had expected, is generally a strangely considerate place to a degree I may never be able to match — commuters will greet you with a bow, even when you are shoved underneath their armpit during rush hour, mobile phone usage is strictly prohibited on public transit and in banking, postal, and educational institutions, and even the homeless remove their shoes and sweep the ground outside their cardboard hovels out of respect for their neighbours. Coming from America has put us at a great disadvantage because in our culture, courtesy is a commodity and not the necessity it is treated as here. Politeness is built into the very structure of the Japanese language while conduct, especially in business, is usually predetermined by a set of strict social rules based on seniority. As easy as it would be to take advantage of the situation and the extraordinary kindness of the people here, no one seems to abuse the system. There is a magical barrier around Japan where the mentality is: for the good of the team. “Get it done no matter the sacrifice” has its advantage as a mantra, and though the culture is undoubtedly repressive toward salarymen (and even more so toward children, who, by the observations of Jared, are forced to attend primary school in 1923), the Japanese manage to make it work, saving everyone’s face and still speaking everyone’s mind over pints of Asahi after hours.

Business practice is quite distinct in Japan, favouring loyalty and hard work over individuality occasionally at the expense of progress. The Japanese seem to believe religiously in the concept of “win-win,” that there is a solution for every party that can work within the preexisting infrastructure, benefit both sides of the dispute, and also affect larger society in a positive way. Until such a mutually beneficial solution is reached, the argument gets tabled for as long as necessary. This methodology seems to produce world innovation and many engineers. No wonder the working class drinks so much.

Working at the Japan Times provides me with an interesting perspective on Japanese culture, an almost insiders view that, not speaking the language, I would never be able to glimpse myself. Beyond the politics of the office, the strange layout and clash of cultures, and the JT’s absurdly eccentric style, the paper has more of a world view than perhaps any other publication I’ve read, even those like National Geographic or the Economist, which pride themselves on global approaches. A great number of the social issues brimming under the surface so intense protests are just waiting to happen end up hidden behind the impeccable Japanese wall of etiquette and infallible public face that makes the country so unified.

One of my assignments is to ask random passerby on the street a weekly question about a hot topic, usually something controversial and current. This week’s was especially difficult; so difficult in fact that Jared and I had to change the question from “what do you think of the Japanese death penalty?” to “what should the Japanese do about global warming?” because no one wanted to have their answers published, at least not next to their picture. But even with a question on a topic as en vogue as climate change, we struggled.

The publication is presented a unique set of challenges: the Japan Times must tackle the traditionally tight-lipped Japanese perspective on global and domestic issues for a heterogeneous population of 750,000 during a serious industry slump, while taking care not to lose anything in translation along the way. The paper is catered to the foreign community in a country so xenophobic 99.4% of Japanese citizens are ethnically Japanese, and though there is a strong expat community in Tokyo, the paper must navigate a close-circle Eastern system in an aggressively Western way that values freedom of information. As one of the only English publications in the country (the Japan Times is certainly the largest), much pressure sits on the shoulders of the 30 or so coworkers Jared and I assist. These folks, made up of Kiwis and Brits and Yankees alike, must tread lightly on all topics since contention over issues such as Tokyo’s candidacy for the 2016 Olympics are certainly an international issue but are seated on the down low in every other aspect of the country. It’s a hard job, and they do it admirably.

But, to keep from depressing you all, I leave with a joke.

Q: How many Tokyoites can you fit in a subway car?

A: One more.

It is unreal that we are actually here in Tokyo. Each morning I wake up expecting to see the expanse of Los Angeles outside my window rather than the Tokyo Broadcast Station skyscraper and HSBC tower (which appears to be wiggling from a distance). I am continually arising to a dream. And a good one at that.

Before leaving for Japan, I conducted so much research and asked so many people innumerable questions about what the country is really like. I suppose I’m not all that surprised that nothing could prepare me for the experience of actually being here. I’ve been making a conscious effort not to form too many expectations and let the city speak for itself. So far the city speaks in a language I can understand: that of urban growth, a rich mix of old and new culture, and a love of respect and efficiency.

The city speaks a language I can understand.

The food is phenomenal. I can already tell that though I may tire of so much seafood and so many alien dishes, I will undoubtedly miss the cuisine here. With the great variety of dishes I can’t imagine growing tired of Japanese food! It’s such a nice change to get away from the greasy American food and Italian food which uses the same ingredients over and over again (which I love despite). I am sure the fresh diet is the reason so many Okinawans (among other Japanese) manage to live to age 100. I look forward to a visit to Tsujiki Fish Market for some early-morning sushi and perhaps one of the world famous fillet knifes sold in the outer stalls.

There is much more English writing on signs than I had expected (which I am grateful for), though almost no one speaks English. If nothing else, my experience of just a few days here has moved me to consider taking Japanese lessons on evenings or weekends. I can already tell I’ll be learning a massive amount from work and life here alone, but I feel as though at least trying to learn the language, or at least how to pronounce it would benefit my understanding of the Japanese. Besides, when else does one have the opportunity to practice an Eastern language among native speakers? The chance is too good to pass up.

I’d also like to note how easy this transition into Tokyo has been thanks in no small part to the USC Tokyo office. It is a relief to know there are a few people just around the corner who speak English and can understand the difficulties of being in a strange new place. So many thanks are due to the folks down there.

Today was probably my favourite day of our summer adventure so far. It started with a productive day at work, when Jared and I were able to go on a field trip and get out of the office for a bit, ended with delicious seafood paella at la amour de Gaudí, and involved an art exhibit, a Japanese middle school, and watching the sunset over the skyline of Tokyo from 52 stories up in a posh lounge atmosphere. Tokyo is a great fit for me.

I’ve always been an urban girl, from my fanatic affinity for contemporary art museums to my eccentric obsession with subway maps and train timetables, so falling in love with the world’s densest urban culture was never too far of a stretch for my imagination. I find myself aimlessly wandering neighbourhood after neighbourhood wide-eyed and giddy, and though I never seem to know where I am going, I always happen upon some tucked away unseen treasure (like the time I stumbled into a shrine during a late-night run in the rain) or some outlandish gem unique only to Japan (like the store that offered pachinko, pickles, fresh fish, and handbags in the same two feet of space) and still always manage to find my way back home, or at least to a great cup of tea. This is, as I see it, the city looking after me.

For a metropolis of 13 million uptown dwellers, 19 million in the surrounding area, Tokyo is surprisingly efficient. America is the illusion of convenience — with our wasteful fast food chains, healthless prepackaged microwave meals, and greasy takeaway pizza — but Japan is the embodiment of convenience. You are never more than two meters away from a vending machine with both hot and iced beverages, convenience stores are open 24/7 and actually let you use the washroom, and with the combined powers of the Tokyo Metropolis Metro system and the numerous JR lines, you can get from one end of the city to the other in 45 minutes for less than 600¥. Not bad at all. Though I wouldn’t dare drive or take a taxi, as the lines that divide the traffic lanes mean absolutely nothing to the Japanese.

I attribute Japan’s success (or at least ability to be so prolific) to the culture’s unyielding levels of politeness, strict discipline, and utterly baffling social rules. On one side of the coin, I am terrified I will commit some unforgivable act or mispronounce “may I have the check please” as “your mother is a country swine” accidentally as everyone is treating us with the utmost respect, bowing even as the elevator doors close. Yet on the other side of the coin, get enough shots of Shochu in even the tightest-lipped Japanese salaryman and you will learn a entirely different set of colourful vocabulary words and insults that are unheard of in the light of day.

Get enough shots of Shochu in even the tightest-lipped Japanese salaryman and you will learn an entirely different set of colourful vocabulary words and insults.

Aligned with my interest in urbanity and all aspects of Japanese culture, I am counting down the days until the weekend, when I plan to take a walking Architecture photo safari, delve into the Japanese nuJazz hip hop scene, and throw myself into the nearest purikura I can find with whatever new Japanese friends I can make.

I am a firm believer that in order to fully appreciate a place, you must let it speak to you on its own terms. As such, it seems natural that I would find myself extremely disapproving of those who speak for places they have yet to know. True, in the land of group karaoke and “sumimasen,” I am still in the middle of the first handshake (or bow as the case may be). Yet even before Japan extended her hand and muttered “hajimashite” in my general direction, the gaijin and I fresh from the flight could still garner some fairly accurate first impressions.

It’s safe to say that nearly any city of appreciable size comes to a point where individuals, no matter how unique, become part of the central throng where the masses take on a life of their own that neither man nor nature has found a means of controlling. In the largest city in the world, this unpredictable, overpowering concept of “people” dictates every aspect of daily life that even a mere visitor such as myself will be overtaken by the force of Japanese willpower amplified thirteen million minds strong. In many ways, it is the like-minded mentality and cultural discipline that has allowed Tokyo (and all of Japan for that matter) to flourish so. This same tendency to favour the group over the individual and to keep things running as smoothly as possible has also enabled a city this big to be surprisingly functional. Without the discipline and respect inherent in the culture, Tokyo would not be the lovable city it is today.

Japan is such an interesting mix of both new and old in the same way Europe is; the country has such a rich history and a strong sense of cultural tradition that has survived numerous natural disasters, political upheavals, foreign occupations, and urban obstacles, not to mention the sheer number of thousands of years. Yet Tokyo has embraced the new in a way that Europe has not, wholeheartedly funding urban development, contemporary design, and modern engineering unlike any other country because Japanese thought takes into account the surroundings, the natural resources, and the beauty that makes the land of the rising sun and the divine wind so great. In the same way that the Japanese simultaneously practice Shinto and Buddhism, so they also acknowledge progress and history. It is truly inspiring.

I have long since had a love affair with tea of all kinds. This should come as no surprise to those who know me, nor to any of my coworkers who, being Japanese, have a hereditary obsession with the stuff. Ever since I first saw the concept of time lapse art played out in front of me, I’ve wanted to make my own version, and what better subject to use than tea? So, mere hours before I embarked to the land of matcha, I conceived, created, and completed this project for Tea USA’s Calmasutra Scholarship competition. Honestly though, I would have made this video without the competition. The possibility of scholarship money is just a bonus.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. The vimeo upload is a bit dodgy and leaves a ghost trail, but if you download the source video it doesn’t. More videos from the land of tea, vending machines, and “sumimasen” to come.

White Tea, White Board from Leigh Cooper on Vimeo.