Locked out...thank goodness for vending machines!

As I mentioned before, I am now living in Hiroshima. I am slowly settling into a nice small studio on the 11th floor of Prosper Shinonome Mansions in a residential area near the University hospital. I by no means live in a mansion--that is simply the term they use to refer to condos and apartments. The apartment building in which I am staying has primarily student residents, though I have yet to meet anyone. My labmate is also in Japan and staying one floor below me on the opposite side of the building with the exact same set-up. I do not think there is a single room that is not exactly the same in this entire building. Anyway, the way the lock system works is there is a key to get into the building and then the apartments have a magnetic key system. They give you this metal plate--the size of a credit card--which you slide into a slot, push down and hear a click, and rotate the holder to lock/unlock the door. I don't know why they don't just use keys--they seem like simple solutions and pretty secure. Maybe they're just really into advanced technology.

Well, let me tell you--advanced technology is not always the best way to go. Yesterday, since I couldn't be "officially" introduced to the lab until today, M and I went for a walk around Hiroshima downtown. There will be another entry discussing Hiroshima city after this weekend when I explore more of the city. For now, I will just tell you that when we left, I put my "keys" in the front pocket of my purse, which contained a magnetic closure. All day, my bracelet kept latching on to my bag and it wasn't until halfway through the day that I realized it was attaching to the magnet on my bag. Didn't realize it was such a strong magnet. If you can see where I'm going with this, you may be able to guess what happened when I got home. I tried to use my nifty magnetic key to open my door and guess what? It wouldn't open. I tried rotating the holder a number of times--the way you would reset a padlock--turning it every which way. I tried putting the key in the opposite direction. I tried shaking and hitting--pretty much everything, until I decided after 5 minutes of trying that I would go downstairs and ask M for help. Well, she asked if I had tried rotating the holder, inserting the thing upside down, etc. Guess she didn't believe me, so she tried it herself. After another 5 minutes of trying to get into my door (and even trying her key), we gave up and called our friend H who we're working with this summer. He said there was no emergency number and I'd have to wait until morning to get in. I decided that the stupid magnetic key (why in the world would you make a magnetic key!) had gotten screwed up by my bag's magnetic clasp (which, by the way, have probably been around WAY longer than these silly magnetic keys).

So, my second night in Hiroshima was spent on the nice hardwood floor of M's studio apartment. She currently has Strep throat, so the combination of everything made this second night not the healthiest of conditions. But thank goodness for the vending machines to make things a bit funnier and brighter. If you haven't heard, the Japanese are notorious for vending machines. I think I read this in a guidebook or something, but a ridiculously large percentage (about one third) of the world's manufactured vending machines reside in Japan. During my orienation, we stayed in a relatively isolated resort town in which I saw about 10 vending machines in the middle of nowhere--literally--it was several meters of fields and two sets of vending machines!

Another thing which you may not know is that alcohol is sold in vending machines. I was unaware that the Japanese were so fond of drinking. All of the Japanese culture information that I have read thus far says that while the Japanese are very kind (a lot of which is not truly "kindness" but more on that later) and reserved--all of this gets thrown out the window when they drink. Drinking is their way of letting loose and saying what's really on their minds (although I don't think they entirely behave this way around foreigners from what I hear). Anyway, drinking is a very accepted and common pastime. There's even a bar here called "Alcoholiday". When we were downtown, we entered the "Drinking District" and in fact, it was more than I anticipated. The entrance to the area of town has a huge sign saying "Kirin Beer".
Once we started walking down the street there are innumberable signs for bars. There seem to be 2 bars per floor and at least 4 floors per building. The Lonely Planet Travel Guide says it has over 4000 bars and the "district" is only about 4x4 city-blocks! Unfortunately, I don't think I'll visit more than one bar and in the daytime, as its rumored that Yakuza (the mob) frequents these bars at night and the only women that go there are in a certain kind of "business" that does not appeal to me.

So thank goodness for the vending machines! You can get all sorts of beer there. And not only beer, but they also sell mixed stuff--similar to Smirnoff Ice or something like that. So, since I was stuck sleeping on the hardwood floor with only a pillow (we have just moved here afterall--no one is ready for a guest), I decided that I'd numb the pain a bit (while preventing any bugs from inhabiting my throat) and headed to the vending machine. In the end, I was able to get more sleep than M, despite the hard floor and no covers.