Tsuyu and Gomi
They say it never rains, but it pours. That sums up the past two months quite well, both figuratively and literally. After beginning to think that Nagoya gets as little rain as Sydney, and thrown off by a rather dry tsuyu last year, I now realise that all that rain comes at one time of the year: tsuyu, the rainy season. And here's a picture...

Granted the view is not all that different from Nagoya in the summertime under normal conditions, except perhaps a little bit greyer, but it was thoroughly miserable to walk around in, I can tell you. And it still has that "Silent Hill" effect going on...
You'll be glad to know, following on from my last post, that I have a new fridge - bought from a second-hand shop for a very reasonable price and only two years old - which seems to be in pretty good condition, so it seems my worries on that front are over. However, it has highlighted my frustration with the arcane system of rubbish disposal here. A bit of background: Japan must have the most elaborate system for rubbish collection and recycling in the world, and Nagoya has the most elaborate system in Japan, which sounds like a good thing until you face the harsh realities of figuring out exactly what to do with your gomi (rubbish). I tried. I mean, I really tried, but after trying to maintain about a dozen different bins and trying to guess which bin to put any given item into, I have given up. PET bottles and tins are one thing - I can deal with those - but separating paper and cardboard into four different categories, all with different collection times, places and methods is just ridiculous. Now, like most of my neighbours and anyone else I've talked to about it, I just ask one question: "Will it burn?" If there's a remote chance it will, and not release toxic fumes, then it goes in the burnable gomi, and if it won't then it goes in the non-burnable gomi (mostly plastics). I feel no guilt. If all of this were motivated by a genuine concern for the Earth, they would do something about the ridiculous level of unnecessary packaging that seems mandatory for even the smallest and cheapest things you buy, instead I suspect it was designed by lazy garbos who didn't want to pay anyone to do the separating at the other end.

Anyway, the purpose of my rant is to explain why my lounge room is still dominated by my old, dead fridge. When I bought the new one, I asked about removing the old one. I was told it would cost me 6000yen to do so. "$60 to take away an old fridge? Madness!" I thought. Then I heard about guys who prowl the neighbourhood in trucks with loudspeakers (so they're not all black vans or election spruikers, after all) taking stuff away for free! OK, now I had a plan. I waited. I heard one one weekend, and went out and flagged him down. It seems they'll take anything for free - except fridges - they cost 7000yen! OK, I thought, "Isn't that what the council is for? What did I pay all those city taxes last month for?" So I inquired. Apparently, getting the council to do it will cost about twice as much. Now I'm wishing I'd taken the offer from the second-hand shop, and still my dead fridge looms over me when I watch TV, while I wait for the sweet sound of loudspeakers...
To be continued...

Granted the view is not all that different from Nagoya in the summertime under normal conditions, except perhaps a little bit greyer, but it was thoroughly miserable to walk around in, I can tell you. And it still has that "Silent Hill" effect going on...
You'll be glad to know, following on from my last post, that I have a new fridge - bought from a second-hand shop for a very reasonable price and only two years old - which seems to be in pretty good condition, so it seems my worries on that front are over. However, it has highlighted my frustration with the arcane system of rubbish disposal here. A bit of background: Japan must have the most elaborate system for rubbish collection and recycling in the world, and Nagoya has the most elaborate system in Japan, which sounds like a good thing until you face the harsh realities of figuring out exactly what to do with your gomi (rubbish). I tried. I mean, I really tried, but after trying to maintain about a dozen different bins and trying to guess which bin to put any given item into, I have given up. PET bottles and tins are one thing - I can deal with those - but separating paper and cardboard into four different categories, all with different collection times, places and methods is just ridiculous. Now, like most of my neighbours and anyone else I've talked to about it, I just ask one question: "Will it burn?" If there's a remote chance it will, and not release toxic fumes, then it goes in the burnable gomi, and if it won't then it goes in the non-burnable gomi (mostly plastics). I feel no guilt. If all of this were motivated by a genuine concern for the Earth, they would do something about the ridiculous level of unnecessary packaging that seems mandatory for even the smallest and cheapest things you buy, instead I suspect it was designed by lazy garbos who didn't want to pay anyone to do the separating at the other end.

Anyway, the purpose of my rant is to explain why my lounge room is still dominated by my old, dead fridge. When I bought the new one, I asked about removing the old one. I was told it would cost me 6000yen to do so. "$60 to take away an old fridge? Madness!" I thought. Then I heard about guys who prowl the neighbourhood in trucks with loudspeakers (so they're not all black vans or election spruikers, after all) taking stuff away for free! OK, now I had a plan. I waited. I heard one one weekend, and went out and flagged him down. It seems they'll take anything for free - except fridges - they cost 7000yen! OK, I thought, "Isn't that what the council is for? What did I pay all those city taxes last month for?" So I inquired. Apparently, getting the council to do it will cost about twice as much. Now I'm wishing I'd taken the offer from the second-hand shop, and still my dead fridge looms over me when I watch TV, while I wait for the sweet sound of loudspeakers...
To be continued...


2 Comments:
Just ditch it on the street like back home! Some scavenger will claim it, or a hikikimori will climb inside it.
I thought about that, but you can get huge fines for doing that sort of thing, and the police here really don't have anything better to do...
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