Apartment hunting in Japan - Part 2

1-10-08 We have a winner!

We chose to live on the 17th floor of a brand new apartment building in the hip neighborhood of Azubu-Juban. It is the one that I described as being almost perfect. 100 square meters with a huge second bedroom and a view that goes on for days… a view that will decrease as the 30-story apartment complex grows.

That’s the good news: a decision has been made. In the U.S. after I decided on an apartment I filled out the application and signed the lease; it took as little as a day. In Japan, a day to complete the deal was unimaginable. The process began when we gave the real estate agency tons of personal information which they gave to the owners of the apartment building. The owners then asked for more information. We, in turn, asked that they include a refrigerator. They then asked for information from K.L.’s company (complete with the company’s official seal) about her employment. We fired back that they include curtains. That demand sent the real estate agent into a panic urging, “Do not push for the appliances and curtains anymore. The owner of the building is getting very angry and they may call off the entire deal over this.” So we dropped it. And we waited a week. We didn’t hear anything. Not a word. Then we waited another week. “Working on it,” is all we get. Then, another week, accompanied by some mild panic that we’d have to start hunting all over again. But then, presto! The call came in from the agents that it was done. I have no idea what changed. “Mike-san, can you meet with the owners next Tuesday at 9:30?” Well of course I can. I may have to move around some of the important things on my schedule like going to the gym, leading UGA to its third consecutive national championship on PS2, studying Japanese, or sleeping late, but it can be done.

The meeting was between myself, one of the real estate agents (another woman), and a man who works for the owners of the apartment. I was given a hot cup of green tea and a copy of the lease agreement. It’s in Japanese. I can’t read Japanese. That is what the mid level manager is for. He proceeded to read each and every line of the contract out loud… in Japanese. That is what my new real estate lady is for. She then translated each and every line into English. This was the very same contract that I had read over a few days before and had to sign. The man read aloud that the company that owns the apartment, which will heretofore be known as “the company” can throw us out of the apartment if we are found to be in violation of any number of things. Those things are as follows:
*If “the company” finds out that we have hung a lantern outside of the apartment, they will throw us out.
*If “the company” finds out that we are in the sex trade industry, they will throw us out.
*If “the company” finds out that we have opened a bar at the apartment they will throw us out.
*If “the company” finds out that we are mobsters then they will throw us out.
*If “the company” finds out that we work for mobsters then they will throw us out.
*If “the company” finds out that we associate with mobsters then they will throw us out.
*If “the company” finds out that we act like mobsters then they will throw us out.
But if we have a disagreement with any of the other tenants, we are expected to work it out amongst ourselves. For a country with as little crime as Japan has, the “company” seems awfully worried about the mob. An hour later, the lease was finally signed and almost sealed. There was still the on-site inspection to be had.

So we drove to the apartment, took the Hitachi elevator to the 17th floor, and opened the door. Time to take my shoes off. Guess I had better get used to it.