My Japanese Husband

(STILL)

Thinks I'm Crazy

(the comic book)

My Japanese Husband

(STILL)

Thinks I'm Crazy

(the comic book)

By Grace Buchele Mineta

Foreword by Ryosuke Mineta

Edited by Rebecca Manuel

Texan in Tokyo

Copyright © 2015 Grace Buchele Mineta and Texan in Tokyo All rights reserved. This book was self-published by the author Grace Buchele Mineta under Texan in Tokyo Press. Portions of this book first appeared in the author's blog, Texan in Tokyo (www.howibecametexan.com) Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, stored in, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, contact the author Grace Buchele Mineta with “Attention: Permissions Coordinator” in the email heading, at the address below. www.howibecametexan.com The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the copyright owner is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrightable materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated. Printed in the United States of America ISBN-13: 978-0990773696 ISBN-10: 0990773698

To Ryosuke, my best friend

and partner-in-crime,

everything I have

and everything I am,

is yours.

Forever

1

Foreword

By Ryosuke Mineta

I know I'm not the only one who loves touching old books.

I love smelling them, running my fingers along the pages,

re-reading my favorite sections over and over again, and

taking a nap on an open book. Books are awesome.

But guess what is even more awesome than playing with

old books? Playing with the pages of a book my wife

created. My favorite part of every day is coming home

after work and reading the comics Grace drew that day.

For a few months now, this has been the highest point of

my day.

I love these books because I really like seeing us in comic

book form. I think our everyday life is boring, but y'all still

read the comics! (Did you see how I used "y'all?” I'm a real

Texan now!)

But despite how boring I think our everyday life is, the way

she sees life is really interesting, and reading her comics

makes me happy. I can't stop smiling; and when I smile,

she also smiles. I really hope the comics in this book will

make you smile, too! And then your smile will make

someone else important to you smile. Basically, this book is

a chain of smiles.

To Grace, this book is kind of like her baby. But instead of

coming from where babies normally come from, this book-

baby came from her brain. Before I met Grace, I didn't

2

understand why people liked art. But now I do. Grace was

able to create something out of nothing.

Some married couples get "baby fever," but we got "book-

baby fever!" Grace just couldn’t not make this book. And

while this book and the previous one was hers, in the

future you’ll see more work from me. In fact, there are

more book-babies on the way. Some of them are "English"

book-babies, some are "Japanese" book-babies, and some

are a mix of the two, with cute cartoons in both English

and Japanese.

We like making books together. Working together with

your spouse is pretty fun. Of all my coworkers, Grace is my

favorite. And I think we’re pretty good at working together.

I usually don't think about life; I just enjoy it. Grace spends

too much time thinking about life and not enough time

enjoying it. As a result, we balance each other out very well.

Before I end this Foreword, I want to say "Thank You!" to

everyone for buying my wife's book, My Japanese Husband

(STILL) Thinks I'm Crazy. This means more to Grace than

you realize. When she makes something, she puts her

whole heart into it.

So here you go. This book didn't exist. And now it does,

thanks to my wife. To me, that's pretty cool.

My only request for Grace's next book is that I need to be more ripped. She never draws me with enough muscles!

3

Table of Contents

Foreword (by Ryosuke) ...................................................... 1

How to Read this Book ...................................................... 4

New Year’s in Japan .......................................................... 11

Perfection is Stupid: “Good enough” is good enough for me. ............................................................................... 29

Spotlight: Skincare (Whitening) Products ...................... 45

Spotlight: Tissue Pack Marketing .................................... 55

Valentine’s Day in Japan .................................................. 67

White Day in Japan ........................................................... 73

Pros and Cons of Moving Across the World for Love .... 93

Saying “he’s attractive for an Asian guy” isn’t a compliment. It’s actually kind of racist. ......................... 115

Spotlight: Living with your In-Laws during Pregnancy . 125

“I’m not a free, walking English lesson” ....................... 131

16 of the most common questions people ask me in Japan ................................................................................ 143

Halloween in Tokyo ......................................................... 153

Spotlight: Unexpected Things you Shouldn’t Do in Japan ................................................................................ 165

Christmas in Japan .......................................................... 171

About the Author ............................................................ 179

Acknowledgements ....................................................... 180

Author’s Note .................................................................. 182

4

I started drawing comics after my husband, Ryosuke, and I moved to Tokyo as a way to process all the changes

going on in our life.

Then I wrote a book about it.

I'm Grace, a freelancer from

Texas. I enjoy exploring Tokyo,

drawing comics, and watching

crappy daytime TV. I have an

awkward sense of humor.

Ryosuke is a salaryman working at

a traditional Japanese company. He

loves cooking, spending time with

me, and working out.

Marvin is a figment of my imagination.

He's not real. He illustrates how I see

the world and how I interact with Japan

as a foreigner.

5

These are Grace and

Ryosuke: college edition.

Sometimes I get ideas from

funny things that happened a

while ago. If you see these

characters, you know the

comic happened back when

we first started dating.

A majority of this

book takes place in

English. If it was

originally spoken in

English it will be in

a "regular" speech

bubble. If it was

originally spoken in

Japanese, it will be

in a "double line"

speech bubble.

6

7

8

9

10

11

New Year's in Japan

Oshougatsu (お正月) is the Japanese word for New Year's.

In my opinion, oshougatsu is the biggest holiday in Japan. It's also a family holiday chock-full of traditions. These are some of my favorite Japanese New Year traditions:

Osechi (osechi-ryouri - 御節料理 ) are multi-layered boxes full of traditional Japanese New Year foods. Each box is filled with colorful dishes that symbolize health and prosperity. In the past, people were not supposed to cook, and shops would be closed during the New Year season. As a result, the wife had to prepare three days' worth of food for the family.

Enter osechi: a collection of dishes that are dried and/or full of enough sugar or vinegar to preserve the food for several days. Osechi are expensive, difficult to make, and altogether unpopular among the younger generations in Japan. Since stores stay open during New Year's now and the stigma from cooking in the kitchen during New Year's has nearly vanished, more families are choosing to skip osechi completely.

Kagami-mochi (鏡餅) is seen during

New Year's. It is made from mochi (pounded white rice). Two flat, round cakes of mochi are stacked and then topped with a tangerine. The kagami-mochi is placed in the household Shinto alter or tokonoma (alcove). On the second Saturday in January, the mochi is broken and eaten by the family.

12

Some families (like Ryosuke's parents) even make the mochi fresh, but these days most families buy the stacked mochi from a supermarket. Why? Because the kagami-mochi served in supermarkets is packed with preservatives, so it doesn't mold like fresh mochi.

Toshikoshi soba (年越し蕎麦) are buckwheat soba

noodles eaten on New Year's Eve, sometimes as late as 11:00pm.

Fukubukuro (福袋), also known

as "lucky mystery bags," are a fun blend of bargain shopping and luck. They're grab bags filled with unknown items that are sold during the New Year season.

Shops bundle together their unsold merchandise from the year before in these bright red

bags and sell them at a heavily discounted price. Shoppers expect to get at least 50% off the list price, if not more. Depending on the store, fukubukuro can cost anywhere between 1,000yen and 250,000yen ($10 - $2,500).

Buying a fukubukuro is a bit like gambling because you never know what you're going to get. Shops almost always throw in one high-priced item per bag to entice shoppers and sometimes offer products that can only be found in a fukubukuro bag during New Year's. If you want that limited edition hat, they tell you, you'd better buy a couple of our fukubukuro bags.

Before he met me, Ryosuke was really into buying fukubukuro bags. After a couple New Years' together, he realized that most of the time, he just ended up with stuff

13

he didn't actually like. Now we both only buy fukubukuro from candy shops and cafes (random bags of coffee). You can't mess up coffee beans and candy.

Bell Ringing occurs at Buddhist temples all over Japan on December 31st. Starting at 11:30pm, temples will allow people to line up and ring the main bell with a gong. The bells are supposed to be rung 108 times to symbolize the 108 human sins in Buddhism, but these days, larger temples won't turn anyone away. They will just let people continue to line up and ring the bell all night long.

New Year's Postcards (年賀状) are commonly sent during

the last week of December. In the past, you sent these cards to your faraway friends and family members to let everyone know you were still alive and well. These days, it's just another tradition you must follow.

Our first married year in Tokyo, Ryosuke and I sent out about 25 cards to our friends and coworkers. Later that year, I asked his older sister, his brother's wife, and his mother how many cards they send each New Year's season. I was shocked to hear they typically send 200 - 500 cards.

New Year's Postcards typically follow the zodiac theme. They can be purchased at convenience stores, stationary stories, and supermarkets, as well as printed from home. To simplify the process, you can buy a special device to print the home addresses on the backs of the cards. However, it is considered extremely rude to send a completely printed card. You should hand-write a message

14

on each card, even if only to say "Have a great New Year and stay healthy!"

Otoshidama (お年玉) is an envelope of money given to

children on New Year's. Adults give decorated envelopes full of money to children in the family, such as daughters, nephews, and grandchildren. There is no "set" amount of money that should be given in otoshidama envelopes, but Ryosuke and I always give his siblings' children 100yen for each year they've been alive. We're kind of cheap.

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

23

24

25

26

27

28

29

Perfection is Stupid: "Good enough" is good enough for me.

I don’t do “perfect.” Perfection is overrated (not to mention pretty much impossible).

Instead, I shoot for “good enough.” Not in all aspects of life, of course – just in the things related to creativity. Or, more specifically, I don’t sit by my computer waiting for inspiration to strike so I can write the most on-point essay in the history of clickbait articles.

I just write. If it’s “good enough,” I publish. If not, I scrap it and try something else.

Growing up, my mom used to tell me, “All you can do is the best you can do.” As a child, that was exactly what I needed to hear. My parents never rode me about my grades or told me they thought I just wasn’t trying hard enough. My parents are remarkably chill people.

But I’m not nine years old anymore.

So I’ve changed my motto from “all you can do is the best you can do” to “‘good enough’ is good enough for me!”

And really, I like this motto much better because one of the sad facts in life is that, most of the time, it really doesn’t matter how hard you tried.

“Trying your hardest” isn’t always good enough.

“Good enough” is the only thing that is good enough.

I will never be able to achieve perfection in my writing. I constantly make grammatical and structural mistakes. I jump between topics. My posting schedule is erratic at best.

30

Nonetheless, my blog is “good enough.” The book I just published was “good enough.” The comics I draw are “good enough.” The content I create is “good enough” – and trust me, if it wasn’t, I wouldn’t publish it.

At some point you just have to let go… knowing full well you might look back in a couple years and be embarrassed by the finished product. But that’s life. And like I said before, if I were to strive for perfection I would never get anything done.

Most of my blog posts are written on the fly at a crowded cafe or in between meetings. Most of my comics are written while watching TV or taking a break from “real work.” My first and only comic book was self-published – and the road to self-publishing was full of countless mistakes (I wish I would have emailed that company earlier, I wish I hadn’t included that comic, I wish I had time to re-draw this comic, I don’t like the flow, I should have included page numbers, the list goes on…).

There’s also a flip side to this, though. If something isn’t “good enough,” don’t you dare publish it (or you will only regret it later). And I’m not talking about, “Oh man, my drawing style is so awkward… I can’t believe I posted this!” or, “Wow, I used to think this post was good!”

What I mean is, if you’re not proud of it now, if you don’t think it’s “good enough” for someone else to read/look at/use/etc, know when to cut your losses and throw in the towel.

Most people don’t know that this wasn’t the first time I tried to publish a book. Back in March of 2014, I started writing a book called “How to Survive a Long-Distance Relationship.” I interviewed a little over 10 couples and wrote up about 60,000 words. I tried my hardest.

31

In the end, it wasn’t good enough. I put the book aside for a month so I could gather my wits. When I read it again… I was deeply disappointed with the structure, writing, and content. I had tried my hardest on this topic, but it wasn’t “good enough.” So rather than try to salvage it, I let it go.

Sometimes, as an artist, you have to kill your own creations.

Tons of my blog posts will never see the light of day. I have about 20 comics I’ve drawn but won’t ever publish because I think they’re boring, stupid, or pointless.

It doesn’t matter how much of my heart I put into something. If it’s not “good enough,” I won't publish it.

Perhaps in a couple months, or even a couple years, I will take another stab at that Long-Distance Relationship book. I might still hate it. I might find a way to save it. I still have the manuscript on my backup drive, along with all my other abandoned projects.

I would rather be relaxed and having fun constantly creating content that I love than stressing and striving for an unattainable “perfect.”

32

33

34

35

36

37

38

39

40

41

42

43

44

45

Spotlight: Skincare (Whitening) Products Recently I discovered that the Japanese lotion I was using contained a "whitening" element. Although skin tone varies drastically depending on your racial background (along with time spent in direct sunlight with or without sunscreen), much of the Asian world seems to have an preference for light skin.

I’ve heard bihaku (美白, literally means “beautiful white”) used to describe skin that is beautifully pale and blemish-free in Japan. Since learning the term, I’ve seen this marketing term on ads and beauty products in our local pharmacy.

Growing up in Texas, most of the people I knew spent their summers by the poolside working on that perfect tan. Japan is a little bit different.

Ryosuke and I used to just buy whatever facial lotion was on sale. After all, it's just lotion, right? Neither of us realized the prevalence of whitening cream in facial lotions until we ended up with something to make us more pale for the third time in a row.

Now I specifically seek out lotions without a whitening additive. When I asked my husband about it, he said many

Japanese people believe "色の白いは七難隠す," which is an old Japanese saying that means, "white skin covers seven flaws," or "even if you have unattractive features, as long as you are pale, you can still be beautiful."

46

47

48

49

50

51

52

53

54

55

Spotlight: Tissue Pack Marketing

Tissue pack marketing is a guerrilla marketing tactic popular in Japan. Part-time workers hand out packs of pocket tissues with a small advertisement on the bottom of the plastic wrapping.

The premise is simple. The pack of tissues is given to potential customers who place it in their bag or pocket. By the time they have used the entire pack, the potential customers have inadvertently glanced at the advertisement a couple of times. By comparison, the same person might just throw away a regular flyer without reading it since the flyer offers nothing of immediate value.

An estimated four billion packs of tissues are distributed annually. At between 10yen and 20yen per pack, it is a cheap and effective way to get your message across. In the last month, I’ve been handed packets for fitness clubs, bars, beauty salons, and “massage” parlors (that sell a lot more than just massages).

I've personally never used a product from or contacted an agency because I saw an ad on a pack of tissues… but I’ve also never (consciously) purchased a product because I was handed a leaflet, saw a commercial on TV, or saw an advertisement on the train. Some people do, though, and that’s why this system works.

56

A lot of these distributors are paid between 800yen and 1000yen per hour and are told to target a demographic. For instance, as a white, young female, I often receive the tissue packs for makeup but not for porn shops. Even if we are walking hand-in-hand, my husband will get a collection of tissue packs from “massage parlors” or “girls bars” in Shibuya while I end up empty handed.

So next time you’re walking around in Japan and the tissue distributor skips over you, don’t get (too) offended. You are probably not in their target demographic. And if it keeps happening and you need some free tissues, you can always go up to the next one and politely ask for a pack. They will usually give it to you.

57

58

59

60

61

62

63

64

65

66

67

Valentine's Day in Japan

In Japan, Valentine’s Day is all about giving chocolate.

However, it comes with a little twist: women give men

chocolate, not the other way around. The holiday was

imported in the 1950s by a Japanese chocolate company

that wanted to profit from this magical holiday that

centered around buying and giving away things to the

people you love.

Either by accident or on purpose, some

of the first ads for Valentine's Day

misrepresented it, claiming it was a

holiday where women showed love to

the men in their lives by giving them

various types of chocolate instead of the

other way around.

Now, 50 years later, Japanese Valentine's Day is still a

holiday where women give stuff to men. Chocolate is given

not only to boyfriends and lovers, but also to male co-

workers and other friends. Some women choose to make

the chocolates themselves, while others opt to just buy

cartons of pre-packaged, high end chocolates.

There are two types of chocolate you can give on

Valentine's Day in Japan: honmei-choco and giri-choco.

Honmei-choco (本命チョコ), taken from the words honmei

(favorite) and choco (chocolate), are chocolates given to a

very special person in your life such as a boyfriend,

68

husband, or close male friend. As you might expect,

honmei-choco are either expensive chocolates or home-

made chocolates filled with love. Personally, I always make

my honmei-choco. There's no way I'm spending 5,000yen

($50) on a box of chocolates. Making honmei-choco can be

as simple as melting the chocolate and pouring it into a

mold. My themes for the last couple years have been Star

Wars, rabbits, and Texas-shaped candy molds.

Every once in a while, a honmei-choco is

accompanied by a "love confession"

where a woman asks the recipient to be

her boyfriend. Why? Because on any

other day of the year, a girl asking a boy

out reflects poorly on the girl. Men are

the ones who are "supposed" to do the

love confessions in Japan. Valentine's Day is a "free pass"

day for women who want to make some moves on the

cute guy who works at Starbucks, their oddly flirtatious

coworker, or their childhood friend.

Giri-choco (義理チョコ), taken from the words giri

(obligation) and choco (chocolate), are chocolates given to

someone without a romantic attachment such as

coworkers, friends, or bosses. Thankfully, giri-choco does

not have to be as expensive as honmei-choco. It is perfectly

acceptable to bring a box of wrapped chocolates to the

office and pass them around.

And yes, you really do have to give your coworkers

69

chocolate. A couple years ago, I was working part-time at a

Japanese company on Valentine's Day. Ryosuke urged me

to bring small, individually-wrapped chocolates for all my

male coworkers and bosses. I thought that was weird and

creepy... but I followed his advice because we were in

Japan and I figured he knew best. I was surprised to see

that most of my female coworkers had also brought

chocolate. The whole experience was a tad bit surreal.

After a couple small arguments and silly

misunderstandings, Ryosuke and I have learned to

compromise on Valentine's Day.

As an American woman, I am not used to spending several

hours making chocolate for my husband every year on

Valentine's Day. I would much rather buy him a stuffed

animal, a scarf, or tickets to a baseball game... but

culturally, Ryosuke really wants the chocolate. There is

something magical about getting

honmei-choco from someone

who loves you on Valentine's Day,

Ryosuke says... so I make him

chocolate every year.

As a Japanese man, Ryosuke is not used to buying/making

his wife anything on Valentine's Day. He grew up

comparing piles of chocolate with friends from school and

betting on who received the most chocolate and "love

confessions" from girls. The "loser" had to pay for

everyone's chocolate one month later, on White Day (I'm

70

explaining that soon; don't worry). Even though it seems

odd to Ryosuke, he always makes sure to make me

something (a hand-painted picture frame, a scrapbook

from our wedding, matching couple shirts) on Valentine's

Day in an effort to be more "American."

71

72

73

White Day in Japan

If you've been reading this book and thinking "Wow, it

must suck to be a Japanese woman on Valentine's Day" or

"Hey! I need to move to Japan!" don't forget women have

their own holiday: White Day.

The origins of this holiday are a tad bit fuzzy, but most

believe it was named "White Day" after white chocolate.

White Day takes place on March 14th, exactly one month

after Valentine's Day. It is a "return holiday" of sorts. Men

are supposed to return the favor three-fold to all the

women who gave them chocolate on Valentine's Day.

For instance, if I bought Ryosuke a 5,000yen box of

chocolates (very unlikely), he would be socially obligated

to give me something "white" valued at 15,000yen (also

very unlikely). It can get expensive, fast.

Common "white" gifts are white chocolate,

white scarves or clothing, silver and diamond

jewelry, and anything else pale and costly.

Ryosuke usually gives me books (the pages

are white, so it counts), love letters, and

coupons for back massages. I prefer sentiment over cost.

In the story I told you earlier, I brought a box of chocolates

for my coworkers on Valentine's Day. Come March 14th, I

was pleasantly surprised to find a small pile of white

chocolates sitting on my desk.

74

75

76

77

78

79

80

81

82

83

84

85

86

87

88

89

90

91

92

93

The Pros and Cons of Moving Across the World for Love

I moved across the world for love.

It wasn't as irrational and spur-of-the-moment as people might think, though. We both knew pretty well what we were getting into.

As an intercultural couple with two different passport countries, we both knew that continuing our relationship meant one of us would have to eventually relocate to the other's country.

There are many good and bad things about moving across the world for love. Going into the move, I had grand dreams of studying kanji all night, picking up exotic and interesting foods from the grocery store, and making tons of interesting friends. I imagined working at a global company, changing the world.

The move to Japan was easy to romanticize, but, like all things, reality ended up being quite different.

Pro: You get to be together and don't have to worry about regretting "the one that got away" for the rest of your life (or something like that).

I vividly remember befriending an older woman at work when I was in high school. She had done the whole "work a high-powered career in New York City” thing – dumping her boyfriend in the process. She had made a boatload of money and now was approaching her 40s, angry and frustrated that no one she dated was anything like that boyfriend she broke up with to follow her dream. Apparently, he had settled comfortably into life, marrying only a couple years later. Now, he has three kids, a cute

94

house by the beach, and (according to Facebook) a very happy life.

"I'm not saying you should sacrifice your dreams for some guy," she told me. "But you should try to come up with some sort of compromise or you might end up regretfully looking through your old Facebook photos at the 'one that got away.'"

I don't know why, but something about that really just stuck with me.

Trust me, I'm not the kind of person who thinks you need a relationship to be happy. But I am the kind of person that believes there is nothing more toxic to your happiness than regret. Regret sucks. Regret can ruin your life.

I also want to make it very clear that I don't believe in "the one." I think there are hundreds of people in the world that have the potential to make you happy to varying degrees.

While Ryosuke and I both had to make quite a few personal and career related sacrifices for the sake of our relationship, we decided at each step that they weren't really sacrifices. They were steps in the direction of a common goal, kind of like how you might go to the gym in the evening instead of watching TV. It's not as much fun in the moment, but it’s totally worth it years down the line.

Con: You will (probably) be completely dependent on your significant other for the first couple months (and maybe years) after you move.

By the time we moved to Tokyo, I had been studying Japanese (officially) for two and a half years. I spoke enough Japanese to be able to open a bank account, but not enough to go to the hospital alone or navigate the

95

cheapest cell phone contract.

Lots of things sucked those first couple months in Tokyo. Being completely helpless and dependent on another person (especially someone who was trying to survive in his first full-time job) was humiliating. I hated it.

I kept making mistake after mistake. I wore my indoor house slipper in his parents' tatami mat living room (a big no-no), forgot to give our landlord a moving-in gift (very rude), stuck my chopsticks straight up in a bowl of rice (a traditional funeral rite) at one of Ryosuke's work parties, drained the bathtub after my bath (in Japanese houses, everyone in the household bathes in the same water and, in this case, there were still two family members who were supposed to bathe after me), and used a toothpick at a steak restaurant while out with friends (I was later told that was incredibly rude and un-ladylike).

I felt like I was in a game where everyone knew the rules except for me.

Pro: You get to live in a new country, experience a new culture, and learn a lot more about yourself.

You get a chance to learn about a new culture and really examine your own, figuring out what makes you, well, you. That's an amazing opportunity. Most people never get that chance.

It is also a chance to thrive in a new environment and pick up a new skill. For example, I started this blog and published a comic book about my life in Tokyo.

Other friends have written books, started volunteer organizations, taught yoga, taken up long distance bicycling... really, this list goes on.

96

Con: You probably won't ever feel like you truly "belong" in that culture, and your support system for dealing with this will be limited.

Sometimes I forget I'm foreign. I'm almost completely self-dependent now, meaning I understand Japanese culture enough to get by.

But then Ryosuke and I will be out shopping, and a small child will point at me and shout, "Look! It's a foreigner!!" ... and then I remember, "Oh yeah, because I’m white, I technically don't belong in this society and never will..."

Along with this, it can be difficult to find a community abroad. Naturally, if you move to your partner's home country, they will have more connections than you. You're not only starting over with a completely blank slate, but you're starting over with the odds stacked against you.

Depending on your job (if you have one), your language ability (if you can even speak your partner's native tongue), and your location, you might be unable to find close friends in your new home.

That kind of isolation can seriously put stress on your relationship.

Pro: No more long-distance!

Because let's face it, long-distance relationships kind of suck. And by "kind of," I mean really, really, really suck.

If you and your partner live in different countries, one of

97

you will eventually have to make the move. It's not feasible (or fun) to stay in a long-distance relationship indefinitely.

Con: Moving abroad for love is a huge commitment, and you might wonder, "Did I make a mistake?" or "What am I doing with my life??" quite a bit.

When I see my high school friends’ updates on Facebook, I wonder for half a second what my life would have been like if I had stayed in America and followed the career path I chose in college.

Wondering doesn't do me any good, though, so I try to shelve those wandering thoughts. Besides, a good career wouldn't be enough to make me happy.

I'm under the impression that people need three things to be completely fulfilled in life:

1. Relationship fulfillment (relationships with a significant other and/or good friends)

2. Job fulfillment (creating or working in a field that you believe in, so you get a sense of purpose and meaning)

3. Personal fulfillment (having enough time/energy to pursue your hobbies, try new things, and live the kind of life that makes you happy)

You can't be fulfilled by just one of these – and you really shouldn't try. Being married to the "right" person won't necessarily make you happy, especially if you're in an environment that smothers you. Your significant other can't (and shouldn't) be your everything.

Con: Your job opportunities will (probably) decrease.

Some countries don't let foreign spouses of nationals hold

98

a job. If you're thinking about moving abroad, make sure you do plenty of research ahead of time.

And even if you have a work visa, finding a job in your field can be difficult. Most spouses seem to just teach English (or whatever their native language is).

When I first moved to Japan, I didn't have a "working spouse visa" for the first four months, and I nearly went crazy. It was so hard. We were living solely on Ryosuke's income (which was barely enough to support two people), and I felt like a failure of a person.

When I eventually got a visa, I applied to a whole slew of jobs. The only ones that called me into an interview were startups and English teaching jobs, and I ended up only getting job offers from two English schools.

I took a part-time teaching job at a locally owned English school in central Tokyo. I teach there once or twice a week. It's not necessarily fulfilling, but the pay is good and I enjoy the work.

I also appear on TV from time-to-time as a "token foreigner" on Japanese programs. I freelance. I ghostwrite for a couple blogs. I draw comics for a couple magazines. I self-publish comic books.

I've built the life I want to have... but doing so took lots of work and lots of time.

Pro: You get to see a whole other side of your significant other.

When I first moved to Japan, I discovered that Ryosuke has a sweet spot for the elderly and a very strong sense of honor. I saw him jokingly flirt with and compliment the retired lady who owned a vegetable shop near his house. I

99

saw him volunteer on weekends at the community center, spending time with the retired community in Ibaraki.

While talking with his mother, I learned that before he entered college, he wanted to be a police officer.

I began to understand him a little bit more. Seeing Ryosuke interact with others in a different environment brought out a few personality quirks I had no idea even existed.

Con: It changes the dynamics of the relationship.

Changing the dynamics of the relationship isn't necessarily a bad thing... but it's something you should watch out for.

When Ryosuke and I lived in America, I was the person in charge of booking hotels, researching laws, organizing housing and transportation, and taking care of all the other "little things." Ryosuke spoke English fluently, but he didn't have a car and he doesn't inherently understand American culture the way I do.

Then we moved to Japan... and he was suddenly the one in charge of all the "little things." He accompanied me to the doctors (to translate), did all the paperwork for renting our apartment, and figured out the Japanese side of my visa.

It's easier for him to get a job in Japan; it's easier for me to get a job in America. For now, we've decided to live in Tokyo.

In the future, we might move to America and, if that happens, we will just need to adapt to the change in dynamics again.

Con: It puts a lot of stress on a relationship, especially a new one.

Most people who live in the same passport country meet,

100

fall in love, date for a while, do a trial move-in, actually move in, get engaged, and then get married. It's all done in gradual steps.

If you're moving across the world for love, you don't get that luxury. You don't get those small steps to ease you into this (mostly) irreversible decision. You just have to jump in and hope it all works out. Or, on the off chance that it doesn't work out, hope that you can still somehow get your life back.

Pro: It's an adventure.

I think the best adventures are the ones you get to share with someone else.

Packing up and moving to a foreign country for love has taught me that the world really is your oyster. As long as you can find a job and a couple friends, you can live anywhere. And, as long as you are willing to sacrifice a bit in the beginning and take a job like waiting tables, teaching English, volunteering, interning, or working in the fast food industry, you can find a job abroad.

-----------------------------------------

I don't regret moving across the world for love. I love the life we have built together in Tokyo. It wasn't easy... but the things in life that are worthwhile rarely are.

101

102

103

104

105

106

107

108

109

110

111

112

113

114

115

Saying "he's attractive for an Asian guy" isn't a compliment. It's actually kind of racist.

You see, there’s this phrase that bothers me. It generally goes, “Your husband is pretty hot, for an Asian guy.” I’ve heard this from men and women, Japanese and American (and plenty of other nationalities). The phrases range from, “I don’t normally find Asian men attractive, but Ryosuke is cute!” to, “Your husband is good looking, you know, for an Asian guy.”

It’s weird.

Or, more specifically, I think it's weird that people find the need to add the qualifier.

I don't care if other people find my husband attractive. As long as I still find him the sexiest man on earth, it doesn't really matter what anyone else thinks. It's less competition for me, anyways.

However, if we work under the assumption that my husband has looks in the "above average" category... can’t he just be attractive and leave it at that? Why tack on “...you know, for an Asian guy?”

Apparently, being Asian counts as a strike against him, like somehow he would be more attractive if only he didn’t have the unfortunate characteristic of being Asian. Or, despite the unfortunate and unavoidable fact that he was born Asian, he still manages to be attractive. Take your pick.

I’m sure I’m reading into this too much – but the sheer number of times I’ve been told this, from people of all ages, genders, and nationalities, has started to hit a nerve.

116

I asked my husband if this bothers him (since about half the time, Ryosuke is standing right next to me when he gets that backhanded compliment). He thought about it for a second and was like, “Eh? Not really.”

“Why?” I asked, curious.

“I just hear that I’m sexy. And then I stop listening when they add stuff on the end.” I love his simple outlook on life. It’s a refreshing comparison to my own overly-analytic, anxious outlook on life.

Whenever people tell him he’s good looking (for an Asian guy), he’s always like, “I know, right? Thank you!” And then we laugh about it later.

I think one of the most uncomfortable instances I’ve had was when one of my Japanese (female) friends commented, “For a Japanese man, Ryosuke is attractive. I can see why you picked him over an American.”

Like… What? How do you want me to respond? I feel so massively uncomfortable right now. That's prejudice toward both Japanese people and Americans. I can't remember how I ended up replying, but I remember telling Ryosuke about it later that evening.

Please, before you tell your friend, “Your boyfriend/ girlfriend/ partner is hot/cute, for a [insert ethnicity],” stop for a second and consider the fact that the phrase you’re about to utter is actually rather racist. Your intentions might be pure(ish), but the execution is a bit lacking.

I think my husband is attractive. There is absolutely no reason to add the qualifier, “You know, for an Asian guy.”

117

118

119

120

121

122

123

124

125

Spotlight: Living with your In-laws during Pregnancy

I love my in-laws. My favorite part about them is the fact that they don’t treat me like a foreigner; I’m just another part of the family. Neither of Ryosuke's parents have ever left the country or speak any English. Sometimes they ask questions about America, but they never treat me like a unicorn. I’m not "the foreigner" or an outsider; I’m their youngest son’s wife. I love that.

However… living with them (alone) is a completely different story. When a woman is pregnant, she typically moves back home and lives with her parents from the second trimester until the baby is several months old. The grandparents take care of the expecting mother so her only job is nourishing the tiny life inside of her.

Ryosuke’s parents have mentioned several times that I should move in with them during the first trimester when I get pregnant. After all, my parents live in Ghana. There's no way I would fly to Ghana for six months while pregnant.

It’s an incredibly sweet offer… However, I don't know if that will ever happen. It's difficult enough living with your own parents, but when it’s parents with a completely different set of values, expectations, and demands (not to mention pregnancy hormones going crazy), it can spiral out of control.

Ryosuke and I are not planning on having children for another couple years, and when we do, neither of us know what country we will be in. That's one of the joys (and hardships) of being in an intercultural relationship.

126

127

128

129

130

131

"I'm not a free, walking English lesson"

There's no easy way to explain this. It sounds rather callous and rude – but I don't enjoy giving what I call "free English lessons."

I love meeting new people. I don't like meeting people who only see me as someone they can practice their English on.

As a habit, when someone I don't know comes up to me, introduces themselves in English, and then says something along the lines of, "I want to make more foreign friends" or "I want to practice English with you [because I studied abroad in Canada, went to the US on vacation, etc.]" – I reply in Japanese, insisting I am Russian and don't speak a word of English.

This sounds weird, but when I tell the person who came up to me (in Japanese) that I am Russian and don't speak a word of English... nearly every single time they just leave.

They have no interest in me as a person unless I can speak English to them.

Every once in a while, the person will stick around and chat with me in Japanese. They tell me their life story; I share mine. After a couple minutes, I will switch to English and let them practice on me, if they still want to. I know this sounds weird to someone who hasn't lived in Japan, but this is the only method I've found to deter people who are only looking for a "free English lesson" so that I can save my time for the people who actually care.

As weird as it sounds, most of my friends in Tokyo either don't speak a word of English or are practically fluent and have never asked me to "practice" with them.

132

133

134

135

136

137

138

139

140

141

142

143

16 of the most common questions people ask me in Japan

I remember it vividly. I was meeting up with a new friend for lunch, and she took me to her favorite "American style" cafe. They had a couple oddities on the menu (hamburgers with half-raw eggs, egg salad burgers, plain jelly sandwiches – without any peanut butter), but the smell had me salivating the minute I walked through those automatic doors.

"What do you want to eat?" she asked.

I glanced at the menu and was drawn toward the chili dogs. Some college students turn to pasta and PB&Js when they need to eat on the run. I always made chili dogs. Stick some frozen dogs in boiling water, heat a can of Hormel Chili (with beans, of course) over the stove, and voilà! Delicious chili dogs in less than 10 minutes, including clean-up time.

Living in Japan, though, I hadn't had a chili dog in nearly six months.

"Hot dog with chili," I proudly stated.

She paused. "...Not a hamburger?"

"I feel like having a chili dog today," I replied simply. "It's been ages since I've had one."

We ordered, paid, and waited for our food. As soon as we sat down, she turned to me and said, "But I thought Americans love hamburgers!"

"We do...? I mean, most people love hamburgers, I guess."

She thought about that for a second before asking the million dollar question. And by "million dollar question," I

144

mean that if I were paid a dollar for every time someone asked me to generalize my entire race, religion, or nationality into a blanket statement, I would have a million dollars (give or take a couple hundred thousand).

"So... Texans like hot dogs more than hamburgers?" she asked.

"I think it depends on the person."

"But you like hot dogs more than hamburgers, right?"

"Not always. I mean, I had a hamburger last week. I've just been craving a good chili dog for a while now."

And believe it or not, it actually was a rather good chili dog. The chili didn't have any meat (sadly), and the hot dog was incredibly long and thin, like a regular Japanese hot dog. Basically, it was the most healthy and least sketchy chili dog I've ever eaten.

That's not the point of this story, though. The point of this story is to illustrate something I've encountered for my last couple years in Japan: blanket statements.

Blanket statements are tricky.

On the one hand, it's very easy to hide behind them and say "all Japanese people are fashionable" or "all Americans love to eat greasy food" or "all Texans like hot dogs more than hamburgers." Throwing blanket statements over entire groups of people makes it easier to classify them.

On the other hand, people are people. And entire groups of people are made up of individuals with unique interests, likes, and dislikes. Anthropology is a messy subject because it's nearly impossible to make a blanket statement that applies to more than 90% of the population. When you try, you end up losing the chance to interact with people on a

145

real, personal level. They become just another statistic.

As much as I love chatting with strangers in Japan, the first couple minutes of many "conversations" tend to follow a particular pattern. And yes, I intentionally put "conversations" in quotes because sometimes talking with a stranger seems more like a scripted Q&A than an actual,

free-flowing dialogue. They bounce these questions off of me in an attempt to figure out which box I fit in. Am I a "normal" foreigner, or am I a "special" foreigner who can use chopsticks, eat raw fish, and speak Japanese?

I’m sure everyone’s experience is different, but the most common questions I get as a young, white female in Tokyo are:

1. Where are you from?

2. Do you speak Japanese?

3. How long have you been studying Japanese? At school? On your own?

4. Do you have a boyfriend/girlfriend?

5. What are you doing in Japan? / Why are you in Japan?

6. How long have you been in Japan?

7. Where do you live?

8. What is your country/state famous for? (example: I reply guns, Darvish from the Texas Rangers, and old Western movies)

146

9. Why are you interested in Japan?

10. What is your favorite Japanese food?

11. Can you eat sushi/raw fish?

12. Do you like natto (fermented soy beans)?

13. Can you eat using chopsticks?

14. Does [insert stereotype about your country/state/city] really happen in [insert country/state/city]? (example: “Does everyone in Texas own a gun?”)

15. Do [insert nationality/religion/ethnicity/etc.] like [insert generalization/vague thing]? (example: “Do Americans like ninjas?”)

16. How does your family feel about you living in Japan? Is your mom sad?

It’s fun answering these questions every once in a while – especially when I feel like I’m doing my part to change stereotypes of both Americans and Texans in one swoop. It's also nice because these rapid-fire Q&A sessions have all but eliminated the anxiety I used to feel about meeting new people.

By the time we eventually make it into uncharted territory, we will already know quite a bit of each other's interests, likes, and dislikes. It's smooth sailing from then on out.

I have no idea if any of these answers actually stick, though. I have definitely been asked these questions multiple times by the same person (who, I guess, forgot about it).

147

148

149

150

151

152

153

Spotlight: Halloween in Tokyo

Up until a few years ago, Japan didn’t celebrate Halloween. It makes sense when you think about it. The U.S. got the tradition from Mexico whereas Japan didn't have that influence. And, despite the fact that I've lived abroad for almost five years now (Ghana and Japan), it still comes as a surprise when other countries don't celebrate the holidays I grew up loving.

Ryosuke is from a rural part of Japan that barely celebrates Christmas. He assumed because Tokyo is such a modern city with an engaged foreign population, it celebrated all the popular Western holidays.

I was tricked into thinking Tokyo celebrated Halloween because of all the decorations around town and the sheer number of my Japanese friends who posted a “trial run” of their costumes on Facebook. It seemed like every bakery and karaoke parlor in Tokyo was competing in a 'Who can Display the Weirdest Halloween Decorations' contest. It wasn't such a stretch, thinking that Tokyo celebrated foreign holidays.

Two years earlier, we happened to be in Tokyo on St. Patrick's Day. The celebrations in Harajuku and Shibuya were green, covered in beer, and obnoxiously wonderful. The highlight of the day was when a very drunk European man mistook us for Taylor Swift and "that one dude from Twilight" (Taylor Lautner) and told us that he was so glad we were back together again because we were totally his favorite couple.

154

Actually, celebrating Halloween in Japan really reminded me of St. Patrick's Day. Tokyoites dress to the nines in elaborate costumes and walk around downtown in Shibuya, drinking and meeting new people. There is no trick-or-treating.

This year, I dressed up like a witch and Ryosuke wore tight brown spandex and his poop hat. It wasn’t at all what I was expecting, but somehow it really fit.

I don't know about the smaller towns in Japan, but Halloween in Tokyo is a holiday devoted to drunk young adults.

155

156

157

158

159

160

161

162

163

164

165

Spotlight: Unexpected Things you Shouldn't Do in

Japan

Stick your chopsticks straight up in a bowl of food. Why

not? It reminds Japanese people of funerals, where a bowl

of rice is left with two chopsticks standing vertically in the

center. If you jab your chopsticks in rice as a placeholder

while you reach for a glass of water, it brings bad luck.

Pass food from one pair of chopsticks to another. Why

not? This is another Japanese funeral rite. Bodies in Japan

are almost always cremated. Afterwards, the family goes

around and passes the bones from chopstick to chopstick.

Ryosuke remembers doing this at his grandfather's funeral

when he was in elementary school.

Wear slippers on the tatami mat. Why not? Apparently

slippers can damage the fragile tatami mats. However, our

house (like most other Japanese houses) does not have

central heating, so when I'm cold in the winter, I refuse to

take off my slippers when I'm in our tatami mat room.

Leave a tip. Why not? It's a cultural thing. Some people

think it relates to honor; others believe it's a slap in the

face to the server, implying they don't make enough

money at their job.

Try to pay with a credit card. Why not? Japan is a cash-

based society, so paying by credit card can be risky. That

being said, most boutiques and hotels accept credit cards

these days.

166

167

168

169

170

171

Christmas in Japan

My husband and I met while we were lowly undergrad students. He had elected to spend a year studying abroad in America, right down the hall from me.

As winter break rolled around, I asked him if he wanted to spend a couple weeks with my family in Texas for Christmas. He said yes and we bought him a plane ticket that afternoon. It was his first “real American Christmas,” but it ended up being a bit of a let-down because we

didn't eat any "Christmas Chicken."

It turns out that in 1974 the Japanese branch of KFC ran a campaign to promote “Christmas Chicken.” The idea spread like wildfire and, 40 years later, people are still lining up to score a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken.

You can pre-order the bucket in advance at KFC. And, for people who don’t like fried chicken, you can also find several varieties of grilled and boiled chicken at any supermarket starting on the 23rd. Furthermore, most supermarkets, post offices, and convenience stores provide extensive Christmas catalogues so you can order a chicken set of your liking and have them shipped directly to your home on Christmas Eve.

Stop any Japanese person on the street and 95% of the time they will tell you that “Christmas Chicken” and “Christmas Cake” are famous traditions. Stop any American person on the street and 95% of the time they will look at you like you’re crazy when you tell them your dream is to eat KFC on Christmas.

172

Needless to say, Ryosuke was heartbroken when he learned that “Christmas Chicken” isn’t a thing in America. I even had to drive him by a vacant KFC to prove it.

And dining habits aren't the only differences between American and Japanese Christmas. In most Asian countries, Christmas is a "couples holiday." It's like the Valentine's Day of Asia. Couples dine at expensive restaurants, swap gifts, and stroll beneath the winter "illumination" lights. It's incredibly romantic.

And, of course, by "Christmas" I actually mean "Christmas Eve" because Christmas Eve is when Japanese people celebrate the holiday. By the time Christmas Day rolls around, shops have already begun taking down Christmas decorations and putting up New Year's decorations.

173

174

175

176

177

178

179

About the Author

Grace Buchele Mineta got into the writing business

by accident. Now she lives in Tokyo with her husband, Ryosuke, where she blogs and draws comics about

their daily life in Japan.

Though she will forever be a Texan girl at heart, she has lived and travelled all over the globe. When she's

not drawing comics or blogging, you can find her cooking with her husband, hiking all over Japan, and

watching crappy daytime television.

180

Acknowledgements There are so many people I would like to thank. Isn't

that what this section is all about?

First and foremost, I want to thank my wonderful husband, Ryosuke. I'm sure it's not easy being married to me, especially when I disappear mid-sentence so I can go jot down an idea for a comic. Thank you for

letting me take over the kitchen table for the last two months as I assembled this book, drink my weight in coffee every week, and call you at odd hours of the

day to ask weird questions about Japan. Babe, you're the best.

To my family, for your continual support and encouragement. It's awesome to know y'all are

actually reading these books, not just "pretending" to (to make me feel better). You know who you are.

To my friends and colleagues, who have supported and inspired me through every step of self-publishing.

To Emily Lessnau, Tim, and Rebecca Manuel for proofreading the final draft of this book.

To all my original Kickstarter backers. None of this would be possible without you.

To all my fans and followers on my blog, Facebook, and YouTube. Y'all are wonderful. I especially want to thank everyone who pre-ordered this book (and left

amazing reviews of my last book on Amazon).

181

I want to give a special "Thank You" to GaijinPot and Metropolis Magazine. Both are wonderful resources

for those interested in Japan. I write articles and draw comics for both publications, and have been able to

use some of those comics in this book.

Comics on these pages made their first appearance elsewhere:

Metropolis Magazine Comics on pages 9, 16, 33, 149, 152, and 159.

http://metropolisjapan.com/author/grace-buchele-mineta/

Gaijinpot

Comics on pages 10, 32, 44, 45, 54, 84, 112, 113, 142, 147, 151, 156, 157, and 166.

http://blog.gaijinpot.com/author/gracebuchele/

You can also find me on social media:

Blog http://howibecametexan.com/

Twitter https://twitter.com/texan_in_tokyo

Youtube https://www.youtube.com/user/TexaninTokyo

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/TexaninTokyo

182

Author's Note

I get a lot of comments about Marvin, my imaginary talking rabbit. This is a memoir, after all, so shouldn't I

just stick to the facts?

I'm not actually crazy, by the way (at least not really). I understand that Marvin isn't real. I don't

actually see or talk to him. He's more or less become a partner in my comics because it makes more sense to

have him than to leave him behind.

So what is Marvin? Sometimes Marvin represents an internal conflict while other times he stands in place of

someone else. As you might have noticed in these comics, I don't have very many recurring characters. I

spend time with people, but I don't blog or draw comics about them. Drawing someone (even with their permission) and then publishing said drawing

seems like a gross violation of their privacy.

I wrote a blog post two years ago about why I choose not to use people's names (or any identifying traits) in my blog posts. Back when I was in college, I

found pictures and stories about me on two of my friends' blogs. They were all good things, of course,

but it still kind of freaked me out. In fact, I only learned about the stories when I was Google searching myself

("Grace Buchele" is not exactly a common name).

Marvin fulfills a lot of rolls. He also illustrates the fragile nature of "reality." And he's fricken adorable.