Summary
To arrive in the Japanese capital, Tokyo, can be a sensorially confounding experience. Opening bank accounts and making digital payments remains surprisingly difficult. Many restaurants and shops only accept cash.
Japan’s garbage recycling system is truly operatic in scale and complexity. Legislation dating to the late 1990s mandates that every household has to separate waste into burnable and non-burnable categories. The municipality I lived in issued residents with an Iliad-sized manual on how to sort some 500 different items.
The Japan Vending Machine Manufacturers Association says there is about one machine for every 35 citizens. You can get bananas, piping-hot soup, comic books, umbrellas and even saké at the right machines.
In Japan, talking loudly in public spaces, whether on a mobile phone or with friends, is frowned upon. This includes all public transport. Even during rush-hour when the Tokyo metro is jam-packed, there is a hushed silence within the cabins.
In Japan, the lowly manhole is its own art form with designs that reveal something of the unique history or cultural traditions of the cities whose sewers they adorn. According to the Japan Society of Manhole Covers, there are almost 6000 artistic manhole covers spread across the country.
Where else can you find a mango pitter, banana-holder, owl-shaped hardboiled egg-maker, USB cables, origami paper, Halloween masks and glue?
