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Exchanging Your Driver’s License for a Japanese One is Expensive

Sixteen hours of driving, a one-night stay at a hotel, 3 weeks of waiting for an appointment, and 8 hours of waiting around in a reception area. This is what one might be expected to endure for a special surgery, but in the Land of the Rising Bureaucracy, this is what it takes to exchange your driver’s license.

Gu, my wife, and I had been in Japan since March, and, since August, had become residents of Myoko city in Niigata prefecture. The whole time we had been driving, and even bought a 1991 Toyota Landcruiser, using our Canadian driver’s licenses in conjunction with an international driving permit. The permit is a translation of your driver’s license into various languages like French, Chinese, Japanese, Arabic, etc. However they only last one year and ours were about to expire.

Given Gu’s experience of trading in her Korean driver’s license for a Canadian one while we were living in Vancouver, we thought it would be a fairly straightforward process. In Canada, Gu brought her Korean license to the licensing centre and had a BC driver’s license in her hands in 20 minutes.

Our first attempt at exchanging licenses was at the Police Station. They had no idea how to exchange a foreign license for a Japanese one but were nice enough to call the prefectural licensing centre and ask on our behalf. We were told to go to the licensing centre in Niigata city, which is about a 3 hour drive. We were also told that we had to prove we had held a license for at least 3 months in the issuing country. Considering I have held a license in Canada for twenty years, it shouldn’t have been a problem… or so I thought.

As example procrastinators, we left it to the day before our international permits expired to go to the licensing centre in Niigata city. Leaving early morning and arriving around 11 am at the centre, we arrived just in time for their 2-hour lunch break. No problem, we can have a 2-hour lunch break as well.

I had prepared what seemed to me as a reasonable amount of documentation — not so heavy as to cause wrist strain but of considerable weight and neatly tucked into a transparent folder:

  • Canadian Driver’s Licenses
  • International Driving Permits
  • Passports
  • Residence Cards
  • Residence Certificates (proving we’re residents of Niigata prefecture)
  • Apartment Lease from Vancouver (to prove we were in Canada for more than 3 months)

However, we had made several fatal mistakes. The international driving permits, while they are a translation of my license, meant nothing — I had to get a translation from JAF japanese automobile federation. Also, my passport had no Canadian entry stamps on it. I had visited Japan twice in 2018 and had entry stamps and exit stamps from Japan but they weren’t convinced I had returned to my home country — I was told it seems like I was hardly there. Even an apartment lease wasn’t sufficient. Again, I was told that renting an apartment doesn’t prove I was there — too true.

Our last mistake was that we needed an appointment and the earliest appointment was 3 weeks away. The clerk was very nice — but helpful and nice are very different things.

With the appointment 3 weeks away and our international permits expiring we were in what one might call a pickle. We were fortunate enough to have Gu’s dad go to the police station in Korea with a photo of Gu. He argued with the cops until they made him a driver’s license and an international permit. After receiving them in the mail, I can see why he had to argue so much. I don’t think she was old enough to drive in the photo he gave them.

Three weeks later I came armed with what I thought were big guns: my original UBC diploma, 2 years of tax returns, copies of flight tickets showing that despite the lack of entry stamps I had in fact returned to Canada, and a copy of my driving record showing that I had held a license since 2000.

As we stayed in a hotel near the licensing centre the night before, we arrived early for our 8:30 am appointment. In the end, we were successful. We are now both carrying Japanese driver’s licenses. However, my diploma was not considered sufficient proof as it didn’t include a start date — somehow I graduated without being in the country. In the end, I provided enrolment letters.

Four hours later, we had driver’s licenses in our hands. By my count, a civil servant can process 2 applications to exchange a foreign license per day. The process cost us a lot of time and money and reinforced our impression of Japan’s bureaucracy as useless and short-sighted. However, we only paid $100 for both licenses — I’m sure the Japanese taxpayers paid a lot more.

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Myokokogen #5

Man, time flies! This year was my 5th season at Myokokogen.

While there were a couple rest days, Ms Gu and I got on the hill for a least a few hours a day — enough for some laps to work on technique or spending some time in the trees. Besides skiing, we helped out at Hotel Moc by driving guests or helping with anything in English.

Gu’s snowboarding got much better this year. Last year was her first time on black runs and, by the end, she was starting with some off-piste powder. This year she got verifiably hooked on powder thanks to an epic day at Arai.

Each season I try to check-out at least one new resort. This year we went to the newly-opened Lotte Arai resort. The Lotte group (a huge Korean company) bought the Arai resort, which had been closed since 2006, renovated it, and re-opened it for 2017/18 season. The resort is on Mount Okenashi (大毛無山) which literally means big no fur mountain, named as such because it lacks trees on top. The semi-alpine area was a nice change from Myoko which is all below the tree line, and they have several avalanche-controlled areas for powder skiing. It’s Japow heaven.

Gu and I had an epic day at Arai. Firstly, it was a powder day. Secondly, the resort was basically empty — maybe 30 guests. We had a full day of the holy trinity: fresh, steep & deep. If anyone is looking for a week of powder skiing, I’d zip over to Arai while it’s still a ghost town (there’s a shuttle from Myoko as well).

Other than that, we played Japanese Mahjong with the other staff at Hotel Moc, went to a fancy French restaurant in the middle of nowhere in Joetsu, had a date night in Nagano at an Italian bar, had tasty tempura with Pon & Yuuka, received ski-lessons from an old ski expert (Takayasu) who stressed the importance of one’s pinky toe, became friends with Sami, one of the University students working at the hotel during winter break who also volunteers as a Kyoto greeter, and got Gu into the backcountry for the first time.

Lotte Arai
From the old lift
New Year’s Party
Myoko-san
Night in Nagano
Gu’s first backcountry hike
Pepper
Yuuka let’s me cook
k-truck
Kojima

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Gotemba, Yokohama, and Kamakura

Back in Japan!

明けましておめでとう means happy new year, and it has definitely been a happy new year thus far. My friends in Tokyo that I usually meet once or twice a year invited me to join them at their friend’s family home in Gotemba, Shizuoka prefecture for New Year’s. To be fair, I asked them for recommendations on what to do for New Year’s secretly hoping they would invite me somewhere awesome. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but we caught a coach bus for about an hour out of Tokyo with our friends (Kanako and Satoshi) and our host’s girlfriend (Yuka) who was kind enough for bring beer for the bus trip.

Our host, Ryuu-chan, is a photographer with a penchant for kimono’s. A male kimono is a looser, more drab version of the colourful female kimono that people are generally more familiar with, so Ryuu-chan looks like a samurai wielding a camera instead of a sword.

Ryuu-chan’s family home is a traditional style home with sliding doors that separate all the rooms. This style of home doesn’t have central heating, so a portable kerosene heater is used for any occupied rooms. To keep things extra toasty, and to allow for liberal chances of playing footsie, we all sat around a low table that has a built-in heater. This type of table is called a kotatsu.

That night, we went to a local shinto shrine to inform the shinto gods of our wishes for 2017 — bow-bow-clap-clap-bow. We were offered, and gladly accepted, warm sake, namazake, dried squid, and tiny salamis. For me, this was reminiscent of my first time in Myokokogen.

The next morning, I woke up and poked my head outside, and, boom, there’s mount Fuji. We arrived at night, so I hadn’t realized just how close we were to Mt Fuji. Needless to say the symmetrical snow cone that is Fuji-san was an inspirational scene for the first day of 2017.

Since my lovely girlfriend, Ms Gu, finished her culinary program and is currently awaiting a work visa, we were able to come together to the Myokokogen ski area. Also, since she was able to come, we decided to stay for the whole ski season. It’s been a slow start to the season snow-wise, but I’ve got my fingers crossed.

After departing Shizuoka prefecture, we went to Yokohama. There we visited the Cup Noodle Museum and the Ramen Museum. In general, it was a noodle-heavy experience. Next we went to Kamakura, which is a common day trip from Tokyo. Kamakura is a beach-town with lots of temples — you routinely see bikes with side-carriers for surfboards.

Catching up to present time, Ms Gu and I have been in Myokokogen since Thursday and are settling in nicely. Here’s hoping yuki-kami-sama (god of snow) hears our prayers — campai!

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Shooting fireworks at Gwangalli Beach

On Gwangalli Beach in Busan, South Korea, old ladies sell fireworks on the beach. In Korea, old ladies are basically a separate class of citizen. They’re rough, tough, drive a hard bargain, and perennially have short permed hair. Usually wearing colourful hiking clothes, they will elbow passed you on the street and push you out of the way on the metro. They are called ajumma.

When I went looking for an ajumma to buy some fireworks on the beach, the first one who approached me offered 4 roman candles for $20 — a blatant rip off. Our new-found Korean friend from the hostel, Charlie, came over and started the process of serious negotiation. The ajumma was pretty pissed that her simpleton white-boy target suddenly had local backup. After we walked away from the negotiations, she came back to the table with an offer of 4 roman candles plus 4 bigger fireworks for the same price.

After we paid, the ajumma pulled the fireworks out of hiding spots in the sand. The fireworks were totally hidden, but she deftly plucked them from their shallow graves without having to search or shift at all. Perhaps the police have started cracking down on the practice as these precautions were new to me.

At night, Gwangalli is a very romantic spot. Strolling couples take selfies with the bridge lights shining off the water. On the boardwalk, young musicians perform acoustic sets for small crowds. Ironically, Charlie, who is from Seoul, said that the last time he was here he dumped his girlfriend. At least it’s a nice place to get dumped.

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Hanoi, Saigon & Hoi An

The only time of day where it’s cool enough to do anything is 6am, so, in Hanoi, people gather around the small lake in the old town to work out. While the wide boulevard circling the lake serves as a 1/4-mile track for runners, the area is also spotted with congregations of old women practicing tai-chi with paper fans. However, in stark contrast to traditional tai-chi and far outnumbering the joggers are hundreds of middle-aged women doing some kind of Zumba in the adjacent square. They stand in grids doing fast-paced aerobics to techno, their arms outstretched and vigorously oscillating like a penguin trying different techniques to fly.

By mid-morning the traffic, which is 99% motorbikes, is in full swing and all the sidewalk cafes are packed with people drinking iced coffee or iced tea and sitting on toddler-sized wooden folding chairs that face out to the street. The traffic is memorizing. It’s a high-speed motorized version of people watching.

On one motorbike, a mother appears to be taking her two kids to school. The kids, in school uniforms, sit in front of their mother. The older child gets the front seat, as is his privilege, while the younger child remains squished between their sibling and mother. A large belt straps the three of them together (but not to the bike) keeping them safe or, at least, unifying their fate.

On another motorbike, a man is driving his sister or girlfriend to her office job. On the back of the bike, she is riding side-saddle, legs crossed in a knee-length skirt while she applies lipstick or checks her phone. She is wearing a helmet with a specialized hole on the back allowing her pony tail to protrude unobstructed.

For an Asian country, I was a surprised that people seem to leave work promptly at 5pm. Maybe that’s the benefit of communism? Either way, the sea of motorbikes rises again to high tide at quitting time as people leave work or pick up their children from school.

In the evenings, the sidewalks are packed with people enjoying glasses of beer. This time the furniture is toddler-size plastic chairs. As the beer isn’t refrigerated, a large pellet of ice is withdrawn from a camping cooler with tongs and added to the glass. Men cross the street to the grassy meridian to relieve themselves and then return to keep filling themselves up.

Back at the lake, the night air is cool, and people are exercising again. The evening is more mellow with ballroom or line dancing taking the place of Zumba.

 

Rooftop Bar
French colonial building
Picking up kids from school
Palace bunker
Fresh Beer (Bia Hoi)
6AM and everyone is working out
The Dream
The guy in the green: motor bike ride share — hop on the back like the bear

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Scotland in Two Weeks

I spent the last two weeks driving around Scotland with my good friend Alex. We met in London, picked up a blue Audi A3, and promptly got used to driving on the lefthand side while making our way to Edinburgh.

After a couple days in the architecturally stunning capital, we went further north to a small town called Inverness. Inver is Gaelic for river mouth and Ness is the name of the lake, as in Loch Ness (Lake Ness). The town is situated at the opening of the river which drains Loch Ness. We followed the bank of Loch Ness through the glens to a grimy little hostel near the southern end of the great Loch.

The next day we toured around the Isle of Skye — it was absolutely gorgeous geography with a million little peninsulas and beautiful mountains. We also visited our first distillery, Talisker.

Getting back to the mainland we took a rest day in Oban — a picturesque village if there ever was one — and, in a fun little hostel built into an old church, I received a detailed history lesson from an older man who must have been Connery’s twin. Aye!

What should have been a 2 hour ferry ride to the Isle of Islay (Whisky distillery central!) turned into a 12 hour epic due to a ferry breakdown (we had to drive to another town, catch a different ferry that took a longer route, etc), but when we got to the B&B at quarter pass midnight, the owner poured us a wee dram and all our problems became as resolved as the 110 proof liquor heating our bellies.

On the Isle of Islay (eye-lah), we visited 5 distilleries in 24 hours, and it… was… good! Ardbeg, Bruichladdich, Laphroaig, Kilchoman, and Lagavulin. Side note: Scotch Whisky isn’t any cheaper at the source — there’s just bottles you can’t find in Canada.

To finish it off, we spent two days in Glasgow. Some people told me to skip Glasgow, but it was awesome. It’s more of a functioning city and less touristic than Edin-brah. We owe our great experience in Glasgow in no small part to Debbie (who I met in a hostel in Vienna a couple years back) and her partner Hamish — big thumbs up for random hostel friends. She took us to an open-mic night and wickedly hilarious comedy show with at least a dozen stand-ups.

Right, so, two days to go in London and then I’m back home!

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Back in Japan…

DSCF2679image1

Well I’m back in Japan, and I have to say life is here pretty good. Mix equal parts of on-piste skiing, backcountry skiing, soaking in onsen, studying Japanese, and hanging out at Pontaro izakaya, and you have the recipe for my current day-to-day. The amazing experience I had here in Shin-Akakura last year brought me back for another season. It was such a great place to study Japanese and ski that I had to come back again, but this time only until March. It’s really a great situation for learning Japanese – I spend a couple hours studying in Hotel Moc and Sachiko helps me with any questions, and, in the evening, I’m exposed to, let’s say, various and interesting conversations at the izakaya (セクシーエアプロンだから）。

I have to admit that last year I felt pretty lost in learning Japanese; however, this time things are really starting to click. Last year I was adamantly against learning any kanji because I thought it was such a big hurdle and wanted to focus on conversation instead of reading/writing. However, I started studying kanji again this past December, and now I really like it. The strange thing with kanji (the Chinese characters) is that there are multiple readings (pronunciations) for each character. For example, you can see a word written and not really know how to pronounce it, but since the kanji have meaning you can understand the meaning of the word. The opposite is true for English, if you see a word for the first time, you can pronounce it but have no idea what it means. Anyways, the point is you can’t really read much with just katakana and hiragana, so the veil of illiteracy is slowing coming off. And that’s a great thing.

Small story: last year when travelling with James, we were discussing the personality type that tends to talk only about themselves and doesn’t ask questions about you – this was a pet peeve of James’ while I asserted that all you had to do was start talking about yourself without any inquiry. So James made the point that when you learn a language, the first thing you learn to say is how are you? In Japanese, you say genki? which means roughly are you lively? And indeed, this is the first thing you learn in Japanese. However, Japanese people almost never say this. You ask someone if they’re lively if you haven’t seen them in a long time, but it really isn’t a replacement for how are you? In fact, June-chan spent a good few minutes making fun of me for speaking like a Japanese textbook because I asked him everyday if he was genki.

Anyways, up at the top is an ice sculpture of the characters 雪酒場 (snow alcohol place) and somehow I got into the local paper.

またね。