Finding a Good Apartment

Oooh, I guess you're waiting for today's update. Ok, here goes.

Today I woke up at 11:30am as someone was pounding on my door. "Yes?" I asked drearily.

Without responding, the knocker burst into my bedroom. "Ryan, it's Dominic. I'm here to collect this month's rent."

"I... I... told you. I'm moving out tomorrow." I replied.

"...Oh..." He seemed to not remember this, but I get the impression that this type of situation comes up frequently with him, so I didn't elaborate. He said, "Well, give me a call tomorrow afternoon and we'll get you sorted."

I have the most laid-back landlord in all of the land. He's British, owns a great number of gaijin-filled apartments around Osaka and everyone seems to love his relaxed nature. It's great to get apartments with foreign landlords; Japanese landlords are terribly sintgy. Even worse, most landlords in Japan are Japanese. Let me tell you a little bit about the landlord-tenant relationship in Japan.

When moving into a new apartment, it is customary in Japan to give your landlord a present of a few thousand dollars to thank them for letting you live in their building. Unlike most presents, though, this is not optional, and landlords will state exactly how many thousands of dollars they wish you to pay (bribe?) them to secure the apartment.

Next, on top of the montly rent, they will likely also tie in a vareity of hidden mandatory fees. Cleaning fees. Fire insurance. Something vague and undescriptive like Non-Refundable Deposit. And when they say unfurnished, they really mean it. No light fixtures, probably no fridge, definitely no bed. And you would have as much chance of finding an oven, dishwasher or clothes-dryer as you would finding a robot servant (which happens less than one would think in Japan).

When looking for my current apartment, I was considering one with a Japanese landlord. I backed out when he told me that if I decided to leave before the ending of my 12-month lease and didn't have a friend to replace me, I would have to pay for the remainder of the year's rent upfront. A little ridiculous for an English teacher, since statistically, we stay in Japan for an average of seven months. There was little to no chance of me sticking around for another twelve.

So, I was relieved to find my current place. Actually, when finding it, it seemed almost perfect. It was around August 18th and I had booked myself in to work every day for the rest of the month. It was my last possible day to find somewhere to live. I had talked to this landlord the night before and he had told me to come by at 12:00 to come see the place. I got to the exit where he said to me wasn't there, so I called him and he told me that he had forgotten and would be by in an hour.



While I waited, I went to get something to eat and explore the neighbourhood. The neighbourhood is called Nippombashi (it means Japan Bridge) and is known for two types of Japanese men that frequent the area: the otaku and the yakuza.

"Otaku" is the Japanese equivalent of "nerd". Japanese nerds like the following things: electronics, manga (Japanese comics) and trains. Oh, how they love trains. Their love for manga has manifested into a sub-culture of maid cafes. Maid cafes are specials cafes where the waitresses are dressed like your favorite manga characters. One of my otaku students told me that, aside from being served by them, you can also pay the maids to cut your hair. But all of the otaku spots are concentrated in Den-Den Town, the electronics district on the other side of Nippombashi. My district is run by the yakuza.

The yakuza are the Japanese mafia. They are as integral to Osaka as the Triads to Hong Kong and the KGB to Moscow, but the government has cracked down on them drastically in recent years. Unlike other countries' gangs, though, the yakuza seem only about as threatening as a regular person in North America is. They're known for being covered in tattoos and cutting off their pinky fingers to prove how tough they are, but I live on the same street as a big yakuza base and all I see is stupid-looking men in bad suits washing luxury cars. I pass groups of them everyday and they've never once said anything to me. In fact, they sometimes even look down to the ground when I make eye-contact with them.

Anyway, the fact that they're here is probably the only reason why my roommates and I have been able to get such a big place. Back to my story...

The landlord met me and took me up to the 5th floor of my building. He took me on a whirlwind tour (done in about ten seconds). I tried to stall and think of questions to ask, and the answer was right for all of them. The lease was month-to-month, he would let me split my damage deposit between the first and second months, the big-screen TV had cable with some English channels, my room had access to a balcony and there was some sort of toaster-oven that I could use to make pizza toast. Oh, and the big selling point: my room came with a double bed. Keep in mind that I'd been sleeping on the floor for the past month. I told him I'd think about it and would let him know by that night, but I had already made up my mind.

The apartment came with three roommates who I wouldn't get the chance to meet until I moved in on September 1st, so that was a bit of a gamble. But I usually like everyone and always like gambling, so I was not concerned. Yes, there was just one thing left to do.

To be continued. Soon. I'm going to do some packing first.

The Street:

The Building:

The Living Room: