You have to give them credit, they Japanese are some pretty environmentally sound people in many ways. I mean, for the most obvious evidence outside of Japan, just look at their cars. Clean, fuel-efficient, the first commercially viable electric hybrids, and they even surprise my dad with the power they can eke out of a 4-cylinder. When you're living in Japan, you see even more examples that you couldn't really escape, even if you wanted. On garbage day, they have special bins set out at the pick-up point for plastic, aluminum, tin, glass, and even batteries (which are also among the many odd things you can buy in vending machines here, along with cigarettes and beer--I'm not kidding). Plus, most of the Japanese folks conscientiously break down, stack, and bind their cardboard, newspapers, and magazines in seperate bundles for pick up. The rest of your trash has to be sorted into non-burnables, and burnables (for which I have a list, and burnables include some strange things, such as videos/cassettes, and CDs). I know burning isn't necessarily the most environmentally sound thing, but you have to give them a little slack when they have roughly half the U.S. population on an island more or less the size of Washington, Oregon, and California. On top of that, I've even seen commercials advocating picking up these lovely hemp bags that have some happy environmentally enlightening phrase on them. Then, at the grocery store, you simply smile, wave off the store's plastic bags, and stuff your seventeen million (or fewer) items into the lovely hemp bag and be off, and everyone will be happy that you did your part to save a plastic Christmas tree somewhere. Seriously though, it is a nice effort, and I can see where they're coming from, which brings me to the flipside.
Take today, for instance. I want to the local Hastings-like book, music, video store to pick up a few office supply-type items, and while I was there, I also bought a small book (I'm a sucker for books). When I checked out, the cashier put my book in it's own little paper bag, then put all but two of my other items (things like paper and such) into a larger bag, then put those to bags, plus my remaining couple of items into a plastic bag. Now that was some fine packaging, and given then Japanese emphasis on aesthetics, I'm not surprised, but seriously, one bag would be fine! If I buy a single ice cream item at Circle K, which I plan on eating in a few short minutes, they'll often put it in a little plastic bag for me. The main problem here is that I don't know for sure how to say I don't need a bag, and I can't remember what someone once told me to say. I should ask again, but in the meantime, I have to rely on them asking if I need a bag (and yes, it's a completely different sentence, so I can't even use that to figure it out), which they don't always do. And finally, my personal favorite, a "where's my camera when I need it" moment. Walking home from school one day, I saw a car with a window sticker in the back. The sticker had a leaf background, and said, in English, "Stop Idling." And the sticker was, of course, on a car idling outside of a house, presumably waiting for someone. Now that's almost a magical moment.