Caught short with my pants down

Over the last few days things have normalised for me to the point that I feel quite at home.  I am almost surprised sometimes when I walk out of the front door and see someone Japanese in the street outside.  I think perhaps its that I've spent the last few days doing more 'normal' stuff than sightseeing.   I've spent time in M's office, which, without the view of Tokyo from the 25th floor, could be anywhere in the world.  Today I had lunch with a friend in our local area, surrounded by ladies with screaming children - and bar the menu, felt remarkably like the cafe in Kensal Rise.  Having never experienced much ex-pat life, I realise how easy it could be to slip into a kind of 'global' existence, wherever in the world you might be.  M gave a talk last week to a group of business men, none of whom lived outside the Yamanate Dore, which is equivalent to Zone 1 in London.  Not one of them had heard of our area, only 3k outside, which would be the equivalent of not having heard of Shepherds Bush.  I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm so glad to be living in suburbia!  Its greener for one thing and the houses are more spaced.  And it means I am experiencing much more of true Tokyo.

Apparently there was a murder in our area 4 years ago.  An old couple were stabbed by a mental health patient who stole 10,000 yen (about £80).  8 helicopters circled the area for 5 days until the guilty man was caught.  This must have been fun for the residents because these houses are built on springs to make them earthquake proof and have very little soundproofing.I think this has been the only serious crime for some time because I've been told the story several times.  In the past month, someone tried to break into my London flat, and I heard yesterday of a burglary of a friend's flat in Victoria Park.  It has made me really question how lovely it is to be in a place where you can literally leave your mobile phone on a table and walk away, knowing it will be there when you get back.

However, Tokyo is not entirely crime free - there are 3 'nick able' items.  Umbrellas are like gold dust and the odd bike goes missing in busy areas.  The other item at risk is something that I previously thought to be an urban myth but it turns out that there are organised groups combing suburban areas like mine, looking for ladies pants.  These are then sold in vending machines at major train stations and red light areas.  I'm not too worried though because I think my pants are probably over sized by local standards.

This brings me back again to the subject of toilets.  Today, whilst waiting my turn for a loo in a restaurant, I heard a very strange flushing sound coming from the cubicle.  It sounded overly loud and stopped short like a recording that had been turned off.  Inside I discovered a 'normal' toilet, with none of the additional facilities I have discussed previously.  On the wall was a large button which, when pressed, omitted the same sound, but which had nothing to do with the cistern.  My friend informed me that a few years ago, during a drought, it was discovered that ladies didn't like to be heard 'going' and were repeatedly flushing the toilet to avoid anyone knowing that they did.  This was using up all the water.  Sound effect players were installed in public conveniences to combat the problem.