Chris’s friend and her husband recently left the glory of Manhattan for the supposed stillness of New Jersey, so they invited us out to their home in Dunellen, New Jersey, today for the husband’s belated birthday celebration and housewarming party. This meant we needed to take the subway to Penn Station, take New Jersey Transit to Newark Penn Station, and then transfer to a final train that would take us to this suburb.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m really happy and grateful that we were invited, and I was happy to see our friend’s beautiful new home — which it really was. It was beautiful, barely a year old, incredibly spacious, with great outdoor areas, high ceilings, and a massive kitchen with stone counter tops. But New Jersey Transit… no. That is not beautiful or spacious or even cheap. Our round-trip tickets cost $23 each. I was flabbergasted at the cost given the distance, the fact that on the weekends, it only ran once an hour, and that the seats were so small.

Then there were the overhead bins. Even on the Tokyo subway there were large overhead bins on regular transit to store one’s luggage. You rarely saw anyone placing a purse or bag on the subway floor ever. Here on NJ Transit, you could barely store a full backpack on the top overhead “bin,” which was really so pathetic that you couldn’t even comfortably place a duffle bag packed for three days. I was so annoyed by the whole sight and experience.

The ticket man who comes around to check tickets — he littered on the subway by hole-punching passengers’ tickets and allowing the punched holes to fall all over the train floors. It’s like litter everywhere, and no one seems to have a problem with it! He’s dirtying up the train floors! Am I the only one annoyed by the filth and dirt?

That’s it. Nothing can compare to Japanese trains or cleanliness or manners or even the price for what you are getting. I think I’m ruined for life.

Chris didn’t even spend 24 hours back in New York after our flight back from Japan because he had to leave for an early morning work flight to San Francisco on Tuesday morning. He came back this afternoon to just want delivery at home and an evening on the couch, which I was more than happy to do. Although I’d been home a few nights this week after work, I was still occupied with cleaning, tidying up the apartment, sorting through edibles and gifts we brought back from Japan, as well as general housekeeping and to-do lists for life back in the Real World. Tonight is a night when we can both relax and just be lazy.

Both of us are not lazy people — we have huge qualms with lying around and not being productive. But sometimes, after a lot of chaos, hectic travel, and seemingly endless professional tasks (as work was quite hectic for me this week), it’s nice to have a handful of hours devoted to doing absolutely nothing.

I’m on a Japan Airlines flight from Tokyo back to New York City, dreading the thought of going home and back to my usual routine. The excitement of our Japan trip has come to an end even despite the fact that I managed to convince Chris to check a luggage filled with numerous matcha green tea flavored biscuits, chocolates, and other treats. The treats will keep our Japan memories alive and prolonged, even if just for a little while.

I thought a lot on our Narita Express ride to the airport about the differences in Japanese vs. American culture and all the things I loved about Japan that I really never get in the U.S. I’ve mentioned this multiple times, but I absolutely hate the tipping culture in the U.S. I hate that it’s expected, even with the most horrendous service. It’s not even about “A for effort” as it is an “A for just breathing and existing and farting.” In Japan, there is no tipping, yet I personally experienced some of best, most impressive service of my life here.  I have so many examples that I know for certain I will share with others and point to when I think of exemplar service. It just boggled my mind how kind, genuine, and polite everyone was, yet they expected absolutely nothing from me other than a head nod and an “arigato gozaimasu!” It made me angry about tip-collecting workers in the U.S. and their sense of entitlement to tips for service that could never even begin to compare to the service I got in Japan.

Everyone and everything is so punctual in Japan. When a train, according to the schedule, is going to leave at 6:47, you can bet everything you own that it will most certainly leave at 6:47. When people say they will meet you at 5:30, they will likely show up much earlier, and they will never, ever be late. People show up for work and meetings early; it’s a rare occurrence to see someone show up late. I’ve struggled with being punctual, especially with train delays in New York, but I do try hard to be on time to meet friends and always show up to work meetings on time. In New York especially, people are notorious for running late, showing up to meetings late, appearing at restaurants and movies and Broadway shows late — you name it. At some doctor’s offices I’ve visited, they apparently experienced so much lateness that they created a “late policy” where they will charge you $50 if you are more than 15 minutes late to your appointment. It’s gotten to that point. Sadly, lateness is summed up generally by a) disrespect and b) laziness. It’s part of the city culture that people do not respect punctuality.

Cleanliness is one of the major things that just kills me about Japan, and I realized like with being punctual, it’s summed up by a general respect for other people, your environment, and the general world around you. Respect. You don’t want to see trash there, so you won’t litter either, and will carry trash with you until you see a (rare) public rubbish bin, or until you get home. We did this everywhere we went across three cities in Japan. Recycling is also huge there. The majority of trash bins were separated out by bottles, paper, plastic, and “other.” This can really only be found in “green” cities in the U.S. like San Francisco and Atlanta.

Surprisingly, I even enjoyed the bowing, whether it was a simple head nod (which I did a lot there and I actually do with a lot of older family and family friends), or a deep bow like when we left our ryokan, and the front desk guy ran out to give us a 45-degree bow. Respect is a common theme throughout all these cultural aspects about Japan I loved.

The number one thing that sticks out to me where I prefer being in the U.S. over Japan (if I were to live there, that is) is the strict gender roles. Women still seem far more shy, submissive, and demure. My laughter, as I mentioned earlier, really stood out like a sore thumb there. And I know it’s because I was a woman, an Asian woman, in Japan, with that laugh. At an oyster kaiseki meal in Hiroshima one evening, our female waitress served Chris more helpings of oyster and mushrooms in a stew we shared than me. Chris noticed it first. He looked at his bowl, then looked at mine, and asked, “Hey, wait. Why is my serving so much bigger than yours?” I looked at both bowls and started grumbling. About 90 percent of the time, the bill was handed to Chris whenever we dined out, except the one or two times I motioned for the bill to come to me, but it was definitely headed in the direction of Chris.

I’m still stunned, though, by the overall experience of Japan and how enjoyable it was. While they certainly have some catching up to do in the gender equality department, we have a lot of work to do pretty much everywhere else.