A week or two ago one of my co-teachers informed me that winds from China were blowing over the Sea of Japan and warming Tottori. Apparently the locals call it "Kiroi Kaze," or "yellow wind," because the warm winds come from the Gobi Desert and carry small bits of sand with it ("don't dry your clothes outside today," he informed me). It's taken to be one of the first signs of spring.
Of course, since then we've had a wee bit of snow (not enough to stick) and the temperature has plummeted back down to the single digits on and off, but we are slowly shifting towards spring here. Finally got pictures of the street sprinklers in action; see attached.
Showing posts with label winter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label winter. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Driving in Japan
One of the more jarring/disturbing/counter-intuitive aspects of living here in the winter is the way that some roads are cleared and maintained during and after a snowfall. On many main town roads, such as the one that runs right outside of my house, there is a line of sprinklers that runs down the middle of the road. They're pretty small and unobtrusive (you can drive over them, obviously), but when there's a snowfall or freezing conditions these sprinklers spring into action, spritzing water onto the street.
"But wait," you say, "Water? On the ROAD!? When it's FREEZING?"
Yes, water. The roads are on a slight slant from the sprinklers in the middle down to drains on either side. Water is sprayed, it rolls down the sides of the road, and then it falls off. It's not terribly warm water, but perhaps my friend the Physics Ph.D./Duke Alexander B. Crew can tell you that if water is moving swiftly enough it won't freeze—and what's more, thanks to water's high heat capacity, even relatively cool water can still facilitate the melting of any snow on the road. It moves, it melts, and it's disturbing as hell to drive on—but in practice, it's a big step up from the rest of the roads.
Plowing is infrequent at best (I don't believe I've seen a plow yet, merely snow piles—evidence of their wake), and salting/sanding is unheard of, so if it's not one of the magical watery routes, it's more than a little harrowing to get around. Particularly on back country roads, normally so narrow that 2-way traffic is cautious as best; the roads might be cleared, but their new form is narrow enough with snowbanks as to make 2-way traffic all but impossible. I quickly learned this my first day back, with many a roadside pull-over to let traffic pass on the way to work.
Oh, and parking lots are similarly neglected much of the time—my usual spot, a short walk from my house, was one of the neglected, and my second day back was kicked off by 20 fruitless minutes spent trying to simply get my car out of its spot. The snow that was already underneath the wheels combined with another foot of accumulation overnight to make my itty-bitty Vivian strain and groan with no release. Eventually an unknown good Samaritan came and helped push from behind as I finally got off the snowfield and onto the street for another round of wet, slow going. At least all of the white stuff everywhere made for some pretty scenery.
"But wait," you say, "Water? On the ROAD!? When it's FREEZING?"
Yes, water. The roads are on a slight slant from the sprinklers in the middle down to drains on either side. Water is sprayed, it rolls down the sides of the road, and then it falls off. It's not terribly warm water, but perhaps my friend the Physics Ph.D./Duke Alexander B. Crew can tell you that if water is moving swiftly enough it won't freeze—and what's more, thanks to water's high heat capacity, even relatively cool water can still facilitate the melting of any snow on the road. It moves, it melts, and it's disturbing as hell to drive on—but in practice, it's a big step up from the rest of the roads.
Plowing is infrequent at best (I don't believe I've seen a plow yet, merely snow piles—evidence of their wake), and salting/sanding is unheard of, so if it's not one of the magical watery routes, it's more than a little harrowing to get around. Particularly on back country roads, normally so narrow that 2-way traffic is cautious as best; the roads might be cleared, but their new form is narrow enough with snowbanks as to make 2-way traffic all but impossible. I quickly learned this my first day back, with many a roadside pull-over to let traffic pass on the way to work.
Oh, and parking lots are similarly neglected much of the time—my usual spot, a short walk from my house, was one of the neglected, and my second day back was kicked off by 20 fruitless minutes spent trying to simply get my car out of its spot. The snow that was already underneath the wheels combined with another foot of accumulation overnight to make my itty-bitty Vivian strain and groan with no release. Eventually an unknown good Samaritan came and helped push from behind as I finally got off the snowfield and onto the street for another round of wet, slow going. At least all of the white stuff everywhere made for some pretty scenery.
How Japan Deals with Cold Weather
Let me start by saying that Japan (at least, my part of Japan) has a very poor concept of insulation, and no concept of central heating (at least, not out in the countryside, and especially not in my 40-year-old house). With that, my living arrangements have shifted from a 4-room house with a kitchen to a 2-room arrangement with a very cold kitchen, as I close off the compartments to save on heating expense.
The one upshot of the lack of central heating is the prevalence in homes of the (somewhat legendary) kotatsu. For the uninitiated, you can check Wikipedia for a full explanation. Short version: think table, with a blanket covering every side, and a heater underneath. Think warm pocket of air trapped underneath the table. Think warm legs…think of how inviting it is to slide further under and warm your body…think of how easy it is from there to drift off to blissful, toasty slumber…that's the power and beauty of kotatsu.
So, while my days in school (don't even get me started on the hallways) tend to be cold, my evenings at home are generally nothing short of wonderful. Throw in the occasional hot bath (another cultural artifact in Japan that is under appreciated in the states), and you have a recipe for warmth and happiness in the cool Tottori winter.
The winter is not all that bad, by the way—coming from the still North and hill winds of Dartmouth, Tottori is downright pleasant much of the time. With the recent uptick in temperature (up around 10 degrees Celsius), the snow has swiftly melted off and the area has again taken on more of a late-fall flavor (though I'm hoping the ski mountains maintain a chillier climate for obvious reasons). I imagine we're due for more snow and colder weather now that February has come, but I could see why people who live around here are not too driven to insulate and heat more effectively.
The one upshot of the lack of central heating is the prevalence in homes of the (somewhat legendary) kotatsu. For the uninitiated, you can check Wikipedia for a full explanation. Short version: think table, with a blanket covering every side, and a heater underneath. Think warm pocket of air trapped underneath the table. Think warm legs…think of how inviting it is to slide further under and warm your body…think of how easy it is from there to drift off to blissful, toasty slumber…that's the power and beauty of kotatsu.
So, while my days in school (don't even get me started on the hallways) tend to be cold, my evenings at home are generally nothing short of wonderful. Throw in the occasional hot bath (another cultural artifact in Japan that is under appreciated in the states), and you have a recipe for warmth and happiness in the cool Tottori winter.
The winter is not all that bad, by the way—coming from the still North and hill winds of Dartmouth, Tottori is downright pleasant much of the time. With the recent uptick in temperature (up around 10 degrees Celsius), the snow has swiftly melted off and the area has again taken on more of a late-fall flavor (though I'm hoping the ski mountains maintain a chillier climate for obvious reasons). I imagine we're due for more snow and colder weather now that February has come, but I could see why people who live around here are not too driven to insulate and heat more effectively.
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