Winter.

Spider lilies under the Ai Ai Bridge

It's almost winter in Japan. If my only connection to the world outside of Japan was this blog, you would probably think I'm still in Winnipeg, scraping by on coupons. I wish, guys. I wish. I've been back in Japan since mid-August, and my life since has chronicled as usual - sweating my way through Japanese summer; watching spider lilies bloom and die; embracing the golden leaves as I wait for winter to settle in.

That's still a few months away, but since insulation is not actually a thing here, it is officially winter, at least in my apartment.

I love winter. I love winter so much that I'm going home to Canada for Christmas so I can put on my parka and snowshoe behind my grandparents' retirement home... and other reasons. Anyways. Hidaka isn't exactly the marshmallow world that I crave when it's cold, but Japan does winter in its own way. And even though no one at work could provide me with a single example for "symbols of winter in Japan," I can probably think of a few on my own. Here we go:

1. The kotatsu: the kotatsu is a blanket-covered table with a heater underneath, and is probably the coziest invention known to man. Cozier than the Snuggie, even. Just turn on the heater, bundle up under the attached blanket and you forget that it's on average 10 degrees colder in your house than outside. The kotatsu is very beneficial for feelings of: comfort, warmth, lethargy; but surprisingly detrimental to anything related to work ethic and motivation.

2. The ofuro: commonly known as "my bathtub." I've never been much of a bath-taker. The age-old "it's like soaking in your own filth" has had a major effect on me. But the Japanese have solved this problem by developing a strict bathing system where you shower beforehand, give yourself a thorough scrubbing, then hop in, squeaky clean. I've just discovered the timer on my tub so it's nice and hot when I wake up, and I'm telling you, this has revolutionized my morning regime.

3. The turtleneck: I'm not going to hide it anymore - I have embraced the turtleneck. The omnipresence of the turtleneck caught me off guard at first, but as a fashion-function essential for Japanese women, it was only a matter of time before I gave in to peer pressure. After intense observation, I discovered there is typically a 20:1 turtleneck-to-no-turtleneck ratio in my staff room. As the 1, I eventually caved and bought myself a red and white striped number last winter, despite being told not to, and being the butt of every turtleneck joke since.

4. The English Board - Admittedly not a symbol of winter in Japan, but this is my one opportunity at school for cultural exchange through artistic expression. I've just released my "Winter 2012" edition, where I share what winter is like in Winnipeg. Some would say my posters are idealized; an arguably inaccurate representation of the harsh realities of Winnipeg winter. But my students are probably more interested in cuddly polar bears (not actually a thing) and downhill skiing than cross-country skiing and frostbite. You have to have lived there to appreciate those.

My citronella scented Christmas tree

5. CHRISTMAS CHEER! I love Christmas. I mean loooooooove. Sure, Christmas is different in Japan. I can't find Christmas lights anywhere, and my tree is actually a short plant that smells of citronella. Whatever. I've made my pomander and my holiday-music-only policy is officially in effect until late January (which I think is reasonable), so so what if there's is no snow anywhere south of Hokkaido, and it's freezing everywhere outside my kotatsu, and the turtleneck I'm wearing is socially unacceptable in my social circle. My tree is up, Dean Martin is playing and my gingerbread house is ready to be built. Happy Holidays!