Kaonashi Ga Suki

Ok, I admit it. I used to smoke. In college. For only a year. Yes, I did it because most of my roommates were doing it. However, I wasn’t a chain smoker like they were. I considered myself a socio-casual smoker. I smoked only at parties, when I’d hang out with people. Ok, on occasion I’d also have a cigarette when I came home from class or when I was stressed out from studying.

After my grandmother died however, I realized that I didn’t really feel like smoking anymore. I felt: here I am willingly shortening my life, while my grandmother’s was now gone. I had no problems quitting- no withdrawal symptoms or anything like that.

One would think that a person who used to smoke would not have a problem in Japan, where smoking is allowed pretty much everywhere except Starbucks. I had heard that many Japanese were chain smokers, but I felt that since I used to live with chain smokers, I would be able to handle Japan.

I had arrived in Japan a month before I was to start working at my eikaiwa (english language school) to get settled and familiarize myself with the area. Sure enough, people were puffing away nearly everywhere I went: at train stations, at family restaurants, at izakayas (pubs), etc. My boyfriend and his group of friends, however, don’t smoke, and since I spent a lot of time with them I didn’t have to worry about being overwhelmed by clouds of smoke.

A month later I started working for AEON. On my first day at work the staff and students threw me a welcome party (that doubled as a farewell party for the exiting teacher). We first ate dinner at a restaurant, where I feasted on karaage (fried chicken pieces), yakisoba (Japanese style chow mein), sushi, egg rolls, and of course, lots of beer.

After dinner we headed to the local karaoke joint. Since we were such a big group (must have been about 35 people), we needed two large rooms. So there I was, jammed in this room with about 15 other people when more than half of them started to smoke. At first I didn’t mind too much because I was having too much fun. However, as each hour ticked by, the smoke grew thicker and thicker. It got to a point when my eyes were watering so bad, I couldn’t see the TV anymore. It felt like I had been cutting a whole bag of onions. I wanted to open the window so badly, but since I was new I didn’t want to impose.

Fortunately someone finally realized I was having a lot of trouble with the smoke and opened a window. I sat as close to the open window as possible and happily breathed the fresh air. However my supply of fresh oxygen didn’t last very long, for someone mentioned being cold and the window was promptly shut. There went the waterworks again. I tried my best to soldier on by taking breaks and leaving the room. Such was my formal introduction to Japanese smoking culture.

EDIT: I wrote this post during the summer and basically put it in the back burner. In late September my boyfriend and I went to Vegas for the weekend, when it hit me. I was in Ceasar’s Palace, sitting at one of the slot machines. I was merrily blowing all my money when I looked down and saw a cigarette butt in an ashtray. And wouldn’t you know it- I had this sudden urge to smoke again. I know it sounds gross, but looking at that cigarette butt stirred up some desires in me to light up. I thought to myself, “Maybe just one time, here?” and told my boyfriend about it. He used to smoke a little too, so he warned me against it. In the end I agreed with him. Although quitting the first time wasn’t hard at all, I also didn’t want to end up in a slippery slope and start smoking again.