The year was 1999. I was about to start my last tri-mester of college. I was interested in Japan as I had a friend who had gone there to teach English. I also was taking a 1st year Japanese class and enjoyed watching anime. My father worked in the printer software industry and had several Japanese contacts. On a whim, he asked if they'd be interested in hiring a fresh computer science grad. To our surprise, they were! We started the paperwork process and one short week after I graduated in March, I started my first Real Life job in a country I'd never been to!

My work visa paperwork was not completed when I left, which meant I would have to spend my first three months working technically illegally on a tourist visa while I waited for everything to go through. I was nervous at the airport since I was in business clothes (I spilled sauce on my nice shirt on the plane - argh) and did not want to be questioned about my activities. But there was no problem at all. I was picked up at the airport by the president of the company (wow) in a car that had a TV in the dashboard playing sumo. They put me up in a hotel in central Tokyo near the office for the first few days, where I adjusted to the time difference and that fact that I was in freaking Japan!

The room was the tiniest hotel room I'd ever been in, but it was not because my hosts were frugal, no, this was a standard sized hotel room in Japan. (My large bag barely fit through. The bed took up most of the room.) I remember clearly my first experience wandering out into the city the next morning. I went to buy breakfast. When the man behind the counter at the convenience store said "Yon-hyaku go-juu en ni narimasu," I stared blankly back, the little Japanese I did know vanishing from my brain. I wanted to say Thank You, but couldn't remember how and felt like an idiot. Of course, he was just telling me the price, but I thought I would be so cool and act like I knew what I was doing. Failed. A little later, to my delight, I found a pastry shop. I bought a few tasty-looking items and brought them back to my hotel room. I was shortly disappointed. One of the pastries was savory, not sweet like I was hoping. And the Jelly-filled one? Nope. I learned after experience that nothing in Japan has jelly inside it, not even at Mr. Donut. The purple filling was at least a little sweet, but not at all what I was expecting. I found out later that it was Azuki Bean. Azuki bean is a "sweet bean paste" you find in quite a few Japanese treats and it tastes as good as it sounds. Not my favorite.

There's no worst first impression then getting called at 8:15am, just as you are getting ready for your first day at work, and being asked where you are because it's almost 9:30! For perpetually punctual me, it was torture and a hard lesson in the difference voltage / frequency makes. Although Japanese outlets and plugs look the same as those in the United States (and for most items, work as intended), they run on less volts and a lower frequency than the U.S. So, my plug-in digital alarm clock that I used for years... WAS SLOW. I never used the alarm clock again and have no idea if they understood my explanation.

Another reason to never bring a clock radio to Japan is the radio part. For quite a while, I thought there were not many radio stations in Japan because I could not find much on the dial. Not at all! I was simply on the wrong set of frequencies! I discovered from a co-worker that there is an awesome English-speaking American-style radio station right in Tokyo! (But at a way lower frequency than my clock radio had.) I bought myself a cheap radio in Japan and listened to 76.1 Inter FM every day at work from then on. They play mostly new hits like you'd expect from an American radio station but also play a smattering of Japanese pop. That station turned me on to quite a few Japanese artists. I also have the friendly Inter FM DJs to thank for the discovery of one of my favorite bands: Afro-Celt Sound System.

In case you had any doubts, the Japanese do indeed bow to each other instead of shaking hands (though, often, to make a foreigner feel at home, they will make a point of shaking your hand.) And not just one bow. There is massive bowing all around. When you meet someone, when you are thanking someone, when you are apologizing, when you are departing for the night, when you are honoring someone, all these occasions require all sorts of repeated bowing. People bow from their cars. People bow from their seats in an auditorium. If you are a newscaster, then just a bend toward the camera is all that's required. Luckily, bowing was not too hard a habit to pick up for me (I was bowing from my car in no time.) But I discovered very quickly when I was introduced to a lot of people my first day that I had learned the informal phrase in school for meeting someone. I learned that "douzo yoroshiku" was a proper thing to say. But when I heard the president of the company adding an embarrassed "onegai shimasu" after my first introduction, I picked up the right thing to say quickly. In fact, in all my experiences in Japan, ever, "Yoroshiku onegai shimasu" is ALWAYS the proper phrase. Perhaps if I was a college student meeting a peer, it would be different?

I was very well taken care of by the company when I first started. They first put me up in a "Weekly Mansion", which is basically a long-term hotel / dormitory, in Sugamo. I overlooked a driving range (yep, squeezed in the city) and often heard the clops of hit balls from my window. Golfing is a surprisingly popular pastime here. My favorite instructional sign in the room: "No smoking in bed." The very sweet office manager also took me to buy my very first cell phone. Later, they helped me get my own apartment a few subway stops closer to work in Kasuga. (Apparently, had I been a foreigner looking alone for an apartment, this would have been a much harder process.) Both Sugamo and Kasuga as well as Onarimon are along the "Mita" subway line, all right in central Tokyo. Onarimon is the third stop from the left above and the highlighted one is Sugamo. I rode this subway every day for the greater part of 18 months and had the stops and station announcements memorized. "Go-chui kudasai" is a permanent entry in my memory files, I'm sure. It just means "Please have caution." I heard it twice a stop on average.

My Tokyo subway experience was, on the whole, very positive. Although it was very crowded during morning rush hour (I never attempted to get close enough to the seats to look for an empty one, I just stepped inside the door and stood there, facing the door, as the Japanese do), I very rarely experienced the Squeeze (where station attendants just keep on pushing people in, even when it seems beyond capacity.) I was inordinately lucky, though, that Kasuga's doors opened to the outside. It was the last station until the one before my exit where those doors opened, so I could step in, stand by the door and read a book and not have to worry about the transferring chaos happening on the inside set of doors somewhere behind me. Also, I never got inappropriately grabbed (and was SO prepared if I did.) Trains and subways in Japan come often and regularly as the Japanese pride themselves, as I do, on their punctuality. Though I'll never forget one day when the subways were delayed. I was at the platform for quite a while before the train finally pulled up. It was as PACKED as I've ever seen it. But I looked up at the platform display and saw that another train was just behind it. I opted to wait for the second, nearly empty train, which was a quite comfortable ride, while everyone on the platform squeezed on the first one. Perhaps they did not want to be one more minute later than they had to or perhaps they were just not willing to break their routine.

My lovely apartment was conveniently located about 10 minutes walk from a supermarket, 15 minutes walk from Kasuga station and a 20 minute walk to Tokyo Dome! You can pretty much see my entire apartment in the photos above. I was on the third floor. I only had two rooms: one bedroom/living room and the rest was a kitchen/entry/laundry/bath area. But it was new, nice and I loved it. I had no furniture and only all the clothes I could fit in my luggage, so I had plenty of space. (I can't imagine how a native would fit in here as I was filling a storage closet the size of this apartment back home, not to mention all the stuff in my parents' garage and basement.) Since the rent came out of my paycheck, I'm not sure of the exact amount, but I think it was around US$800/month. The office manager at my company bought me cleaning supplies and a sponge and said "gambatte" ("good luck") as I scrubbed the floor. It didn't take long to clean, though. Then we bought a thin futon together, lugged it over and soon I was moved in and settled.

When I moved in, one of the first things I received was a Earthquake Evacuation Guide, showing me what to do, where to go, and what to pack in case of a big earthquake. During my time in Japan, I did experience about a half a dozen earthquakes, but nothing remotely big. They were so small in fact, that my co-workers did not even stop working when they happened. They were amused by my Holy Crap, The Earth is Shaking face.

Yep, that's my toilet on the right, there. It was very clever and efficient! It had a big flush and a little flush (depending on which way you turned the handle) and the water that refilled the tank came out in a convenient faucet, so you could wash your hands right there. (I had to cleverly balance the soap dispenser, though.) I did have a sink, but it was across the room with the shower for some reason, so this one worked perfect.

You've probably heard how the Japanese take their shoes off before they enter a house. This is true in every house and apartment I've been to in Japan (as you can see by the "shoe area" above near my front door), is true in some traditional restaurants, and usually in the interior of castles or temples. I did not realize the implications of shoe-off-ness until I was being delivered my washing machine. The two young people bringing it in slipped off their shoes in the entry while STILL CARRYING THE WASHING MACHINE. A friend told me that sometimes, even emergency workers with stretchers will take off their shoes. I couldn't believe it, but it does explain why many people's shoes have flat backs - they do not often bother to put their whole foot in the shoe. As you also probably noticed, there is no dryer in my apartment, but that is not because of the size. The Japanese are simply not into dryers. They prefer to hang their clothes to dry, even in wet, humid Tokyo.

The landlord and lady of my apartment lived upstairs from me and were the nicest couple. The man had a big, friendly retriever that he faithfully took on a walk three times a day. The landlady invited me up to her place every Saturday morning for tea, sweets, and to "learn English" though it was mostly just chatting in Japanglish.

I took walks around my neighborhood often. Sometimes I met strange old men at the laundromat. Sometimes I had close calls with narrow cars on narrow streets - Japan doesn't have many sidewalks on side streets. Once I even met another gaijin (foreigner) on my jog around the park. But I always felt safe, even at midnight. I have a pretty active paranoia about my personal safety but it was only on the rarest of occasions in Tokyo that I even felt slightly unsafe. Of course there is crime here, but back in the States, I'm always looking over my shoulder. Not so here.

The supermarket I shopped at was called, in regular Roman letters, "Seifu". If this meant something, I have no idea what. A lot of stores had names like this. When I first moved in, the store was only open until 9pm. I was pleased when several months later, it became 24-hour (like spoiled me is accustomed to.) Japanese supermarkets are somewhat different from American supermarkets in many ways, but most can be boiled down to "smaller". Smaller stores, narrower carts, smaller portions, and so forth. I think a quart is the largest size milk you can get. A half gallon is rare and a gallon unthinkable. Cheese is virtually nonexistent. Bread comes in these cute mini-loaves of five or eight slices each. Produce is extremely expensive (not surprisingly). I think I paid upwards of four dollars for a large apple once. Eggs are not refrigerated, but you can get a full dozen. You can also get quail eggs. To be honest, the contents of most of the rows were a complete mystery to me. Sauces (soy sauce, sweet and sour, tonkatsu sauce) had their own row. Fish was a major section. Usually, I sought out the tiny section with American comfort food like cereal, peanut butter, and jam.

Convenience stores in Japan are fantastic. You can get tasty "bento" lunches, a variety of sandwiches and all manner of nifty "real food" type snacks. I often had lunch at convenience stores. Offhand, the convenience store chains I can think of are 7-11, Sunkus, Circle-K, am-pm, FamilyMart, Popura, and my favorite: Lawson. You'll see more seasonal flavors of Kit Kat than you ever knew existed (like Green Tea) as well as "Meiji" chocolate, which I think of as the Hersheys of Japan. but Hersheys does not have the decadent squares sold in summer called "Melty Kiss". So yummy.

The most notable thing about shopping otherwise is all the greetings. The bigger the department store, the louder the greeting of "Irrashaimase!" will be. To the inexperienced foreigner, it is actually a bit awkward. But, no, you do not have to respond or acknowledge the greeting. Just go about your business. Loud greetings seem to be a staple in Japan. when you enter a room, especially at an office for work in the morning, you are supposed to announce "Ohayo gozaimasu!" (Good morning!) loudly. I am so uncomfortable with this, it is not even funny. You are also supposed to make an announcement when you leave (I NEVER got the hang of this) saying "O-saki ni Shitsurei Shimasu" (literally "I'm rudely heading out before you") or the like. Your co-workers reply "O-Tsukaresama desu" or "Gokurou sama deshita" which more or less means "Thanks for your hard work." Japan is the land of set phrases. There are set phrases for before and after you eat a meal. Even for actions you take in sports. It really seems there is one for every occasion which on one hand, make it easy to learn and know what to say, but on the other hand were very unnatural to me.

Now, you're saying to yourself, "They have karaoke in other places, too." Well, they might, but not like Japan. Karaoke is EVERYWHERE in Japan. It was invented here, after all. I've never been in a town too small for a karaoke place and they are on every block in the bigger commercial areas in Japan. (It is easy to spot due to its four simple kana characters.) Karaoke in Japan is different than you may have experienced elsewhere. It goes as follows: You rent a comfortable, private room (the size based on the number in your party from one to fifteen usually) by the hour. It usually has padded seats around the edges and a big TV (or two) across from that. In your room, like pictured above, you have two microphones, a remote control to choose a song and several phone book sized books of songs. This being Japan, the great majority of the music is Japanese. But I never had trouble finding enough English-language music to be satisfied for hours (and each place has a slightly different selection.) New, old, everything from Aerosmith to the Beatles to Linkin Park to Blondie to Neil Young to the Backstreet Boys to the Village People. You also have a menu and a phone to order. You can order snacks and alcoholic beverages from the menu all night long. It's hella fun. And I have to thank for this karaoke discovery a girl I met on the plane.

I was lucky enough to discover shabu-shabu my first week in Japan, when the president of the company took some of the new people out to a fancy restaurant. It was the strangest meal I ever had. We started with a boiling pot of water, heated right at the table. Then the waiters came along and brought overflowing plates of raw veggies and RAW MEAT! The meat was very thinly sliced red beef, but still, raw! We each had to small bowls in front of us - one we filled with soy sauce and other, sesame sauce. First, you just toss the veggies into the pot. Then, you take one slice of meat in your chopsticks and hold it down in the boiling water for about thirty seconds. When it comes out, it is fully cooked. Then you dip it in soy sauce for flavor and to cool it and eat! It is one of the most delicious things ever! (You eventually eat the veggies, too, but I'm all about the meat.) Sukiyaki has a similar concept, though it is a broth instead of water. And when your meat is finished cooking, you don't dip it in soy sauce, you dip it into RAW EGG. Sounds nasty, right? You would think so. But no. Freshly cooked thinly sliced beef dipped in raw egg is one of the best things I've ever tasted. (So much so, that my coworkers talked a restaurant into serving it for my going-away party, even though it was little off-season.)

I was a faux-pas-o-rama when it came to staff dinner parties. Here are some tips if you are invited to an official-type dinner party (not dinner with your friends). Biggest tip is: do what everyone else is doing and you'll probably be fine. Take off your shoes at the door if necessary. Don't sit on the end unless you're the honored guest. Do not eat ANYTHING in front of you at first, even if the waiters keep coming by and placing cute little pickled veggie appetizers in front of you. In general, don't drink anything either. You can sit cross-legged while you wait for everyone to arrive, then when everyone has arrived, people will get into the full "seiza" position, sitting on your feet basically. There will be a toast and a speech or two and then you can sit comfortably again and start to eat. Don't pour your own drink! That is how the Japanese will meet and mingle, by pouring each other's drinks. If you no longer want any beer, then leave your glass full. (If you don't like beer, there may be people at the table having tea instead. Or you may have to order special which is not too big a deal, but there is less mingling opportunities.) Try to eat everything you are served. Shoveling rice from a bowl into your mouth is no problem, though! Neither is drinking up the rest of your miso like water. When you are finished, place your chopsticks neatly together on top of a bowl or across the plate. Also, in general, the Japanese allow each other a lot of what I would consider intolerable behavior when they have been drinking. But they also relax a bit. You may discover that you coworker actually has pretty good English and you never knew it because they were shy.

This might be more a pastime for pre-teen girls, but it is pretty darn fun. The Japanese have taken the concept of photo booths to a whole new level. Not only do you take four photos of you and your friends and get a copy, you can also choose a silly background, a silly foreground, then pepper the front of the photos with little hearts, stars, suns, kittens, and even words when you are finished. The photos you get at the end are actually stickers. As you can see from above, it may bring out your silliness...

My visa paperwork came through about a week before my three-month tourist time was up (whew.) I had already booked tickets to Guam since I had to leave the country. Guam is an extremely convenient place to go if you are a U.S. Citizen in Japan since it counts as American soil for the purposes of obtaining a visa. It's MUCH closer and MUCH cheaper than flying all the way back to the U.S. It was also a fun excuse to use dollar bills, go to K-Mart, drive on the right, and send overseas mail cheaper.

Sure, lots of places have vending machines. But, like many things, the Japanese have taken this concept onto new levels. They will keep your beverage hot OR cold, depending on what you are in the mood for. Things you will find in vending machines:

• Soda (Coke and Fanta are the favorites)
• Hot Tea and Cold Tea (The hot is hot! Seriously! If you can't read Japanese, just go by color. Red = hot!)
• Hot Coffee and Cold Coffee (In a can, not a styrofoam cup or anything)
• Sports Drinks (Yes, there is a drink called Pocari Sweat like the above photo and it's not bad!)
• Beer and Sake
• Cigarettes
• Batteries
• Naughty things

Vending machines are everywhere. Absolutely everywhere. Any street with a sidewalk probably has a vending machine on it. There are often pull-offs on the road with a group of machines so you can grab your beverage. I think there are vending machines at the top of Mt. Fuji.

As many karaoke places there are, there may be more Pachinko places. In simplest terms, it is gambling. But there is no variety with this gambling, it is just machine after machine with tons of little silver balls that follow the path down to the bottom as you try to keep them or something. I think, if you bring your balls back you can get money? I don't get it. I really don't get it. But there always seem to be plentiful Pachinko Parlors full of serious, smoking men, staring at silver balls. I tried it once just to try it. It was the fastest 1000 yen ($10) I ever spent.

I received my first business cards ever not long after I started work. I was excited just at having them, but they are more important than you'd think. Not only when visiting other businesses, but also when you are meeting anyone for the first time, even as friends, you exchange business cards. For the socializing I did during my small year and a half in Tokyo, I had a stack of business cards at the end. Important: present and receive business cards with both hands. And be sure to read the card and place it carefully either on the table in front of you or in a business card holder. Treat that card well, at least while that person is in the room. Do not bend it, stick it in a pocket or forget about it. Serious stuff, business cards.

Hankos are even more important. What is a hanko? It is a unique stamp that is the equivalent of your signature. You don't sign your name in Japan, you stamp it! An official hanko has to be especially made for you. It is usually made of wood (or plastic), a little smaller than your index finger and often comes in a case that includes a red ink pad to stamp with. Always red ink. Both times I went to Japan, a hanko was made for me. Once, they just kana-ized my last name so it was Fe-Da-Kku (top image below). But the other time, they made up some cute kanji for my first name Me-Ri-Sa (bottom image below). Not only did I have to use it often, it is a neat memento of my time in Japan.