During my first few months in Japan, I realized I needed a new futon. Mine was flat, old, and had strange orange spots. No matter how often I hung it outside in the sun and beat the crap out of it, it was just, done. As I didn’t own a car, I walked 45 minutes to a home store, bought a futon, and carried it back. In my arms. Passerby, both vehicular and pedestrian, stared in a most indiscreet way. What was this odd foreigner doing walking along the road with a giant futon in her arms? It was only when I needed a futon pad later on that I realized I could ask for a home delivery (as that particular store offered it).
Showing posts with label living in Japan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label living in Japan. Show all posts
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