Wait, WHO Are You??

Story time. About two weeks ago, I was buying food from a shop in my hometown here. It was late on a Saturday evening, and I did not imagine that I would be running into a student, but it always seems to happen here since I have over 600 of them. My favorite time is when they spot me biking in my workout clothes to the gym. They always giggle and say “hello Miss Marisa!” in booming voices. So awkward. It reminds me of the time when I was their age and assumed teachers had no lives outside of school.

So, there I was buying my food when a shy little voice beside me squeaks “Miss Marisa?” The owner of the voice was one of my most bashful little students; she essentially speaks no English but I can tell she yearns to talk to me. So I mustered up my best excited look and said “yes! Hello! How are you? What is your name again?” She told me, and I committed it to memory. A moment later a woman who resembled the girl came up to me and transitioned from speaking to me in perfect English and my student in Japanese. She told me that the girl said I was a wonderful teacher, and also told me she has seen me a lot in her hot yoga class. I just assumed she was the girl’s mother and said I would see her at the gym.

A few days later, she saw me in the locker room and began conversing with me, even remembering my name and its pronunciation. I felt guilty that I forgot hers, but just asked it again. She invited me to Zumba class and I agreed, and then we talked some more and she mentioned that she did not have any kids? Um, what ?? I was a bit dumbfounded by the revelation that she was not the girl's mother, just some random lady who struck up a conversation with me when she heard my English. 

Anyways, I'm glad she did because she has ended up being an awesome work out buddy. We go to hot yoga together, Zumba ... whatever class she recommends, really.

Like all Japanese people, she spends an irrational amount of time at the gym. Seriously, people here stay at the gym for about two hours per visit, which morphs into about three hours when you consider how much time they spend showering and grooming after their workout sessions. I have yet to see a Japanese woman departing the gym with a single wet hair on her head because they all dedicate so much time to meticulously blow-drying their hair after showering. That’s one thing to which I will never acclimate- I refuse to spend an hour making sure my hair is bone dry to avoid potential judgment from others. If they each shaved about 10 minutes off their blow-drying routine, it would allow them 70 extra minutes a week for free time! Oh wait, they would probably just add it to their workdays.

Prior to this week, I never even bothered showering before going home since I lived so close to the gym, despite the strange looks I incurred when leaving looking grungy in my sweaty clothes. Whatever, let them judge. Yet things changed drastically when I was forced to shower after exercising because I had a dinner with a friend planned immediately afterwards. I ventured through the door leading to the showers, and my life was forever changed.

Behind the door lie a magical land of saunas, hot tubs of all shapes and sizes, and a plethora of showers. In this beautiful world, I could have easily spent four hours relaxing in the spas equipped with jets of different intensity levels and temperatures all across the spectrum. Honestly, when you consider that the monthly membership is only $45 dollars or so, it is truly an amazing deal. For that price I get access to the pool, the spas and saunas, the workout machines, unlimited yoga and dance classes, the free weights and strength-training machines, free Internet in the waiting room…it’s pretty stellar. All of a sudden it made perfect sense that the members stay for so long each visit.

Stay tuned for part two tomorrow: why I will not be able to spend as long as I’d like at the gym.

Pantyhose and Japanese Hot Yoga

Not at the same time, don’t worry. I don’t think pantyhose are the best option for alpinists attempting to reach the summit of the tallest mountain in the world. They are, however, ridiculously common here in Japan, yet another reason I feel like their trends are a bit stuck in the past. I never would have thought that I’d be a regular pantyhose-wearing workingwoman (I am dumbstruck by the fact that that “workingwoman” is one word), even after realizing that EVERY female here wears them. I resisted for my first two weeks. Finally, I caved after hanging out with my Japanese friend and decided to give it the old college try. Turns out, I love pantyhose. They make my legs look awesome, even-toned and slim, and they make me feel less gross changing between sweaty pairs of shoes all the time. I feel like they also keep my pants cleaner from creating a barrier between them and my sweaty legs.'

My new best friends

Speaking of sweat, the only time you can see a Japanese person covered in it is during a hot yoga session. I decided that since I paid a whole $5.00 for a month gym membership, I should milk it for every cent and go to one of the classes they offer. I was completely clueless as to how it works at my gym where literally no employee speaks English. Of course, attempting to ask about if the gym has a sign up procedure for their classes was out of the question. Even if I magically figured out how to ask if I needed a mat or if I could rent one, I would never be able to understand the response. 

So, I learned how to read "hot yoga" in katakana, found out there was a class at 3:45 today and decided just to show up. I got there about a half hour early and there was already a line outside the studio. Good sign. I also noticed there were piles of mats stacked up inside the studio. Sweet, free mat rental, BOOM! I assumed, quite erroneously, that their version of hot yoga would be equivalent to that in America, with the same 26 postures. WRONG. Thankfully, the lady on the mat noticed my obvious white-ness and how completely lost I was instantly, and she started giving me little gestures on what to do in the mirror. The most awkward thing was that the instructor was clearly hilarious- people were laughing at her jokes the entire time, and I just sat there with my straight face plastered on. I think laughing with everyone else when they clearly could tell I didn't understand would have just made things worse. 

My fake laugh is a bit over the top...

The class was actually quite enjoyable, a nice detox, and if I continue to go maybe I will pick up some vocabulary. I doubt it, however. It may even make the normal gym fee worth it next month.