Day 4 : What it’s like for a Foreigner to be official. (Resident)
From the title, you can probably guess this day was going to be very different from the previous “everyday life” days.
Since the three-day weekend was over, government buildings were open again. That meant it was time to tackle all my paperwork—filing residency, navigating the national health insurance, and setting up the pension.
The offices opened at 9 AM, but we didn’t go until 10. I assumed it would be like an appointment: I’d explain my case, fill out some forms, and sign papers.
I WAS WRONG.
It was basically like the DMV in America—but honestly, slightly worse. Everything was in Kanji, and the place was packed. They had numbered tickets and windows, just like the DMV. When your number was called, you brought your paperwork up and got to work.
It took a while just to figure out which forms to fill out. Actually… scratch that—it was just my friend’s mom handling everything while I watched. There was nothing I could do. Even when we approached the windows, they only spoke to her—it was obvious I had no clue what was going on.
Our first window was for registering my residency address on the back of my ID card. I was using my friend’s mom’s house as my “home base” while I travel. When we got our number, there were 30 people ahead of us. Each person took a long time, and only one or two windows were handling our type of paperwork.
So we decided to leave for a bit and grab snacks at a convenience store while waiting. I got some hot tea, an egg sando, and a piece of fried chicken—fuel for surviving the bureaucracy.
We headed back to City Hall to check our place in line, but there were still 25 people ahead of us. So we decided to go to a department store for some light shopping. I was looking for a hoodie that would keep me warm but also not take up too much space in my already overstuffed bag. I found a hoodie I really liked at GU, but sadly they didn’t have any XXLs left. I’m usually an XL in America because of my broad shoulders and long torso, but Japanese sizes are usually one to two smaller.
After about an hour of window shopping, we returned to check the line. There were nine people left, so we just waited it out. When we finally got to our first window, everything went smoothly. Then we moved to a new area for health insurance. The wait here was only about 30 minutes. I signed up for health insurance and also signed a form declaring my limited income—hopefully this will lower my monthly premiums.
Next, we went to the pension window. The wait was just five minutes. I signed up for the pension but also signed a form waiving the fee since I don’t have a job at the moment—and for most of this trip, I’m not sure if I will.
After that, we did a photo and setup for a My Number card. I have the option to get one, but it’s a bit of a hassle, so I’ll probably skip it for now. If I stay in Japan long-term, though, I’ll definitely get one—it combines all your info and health insurance on one card.
After six hours, we finally finished. And by that, I mean my friend’s mom had successfully gotten me fully official as a temporary resident of Japan. We were both exhausted.
We went to the top floor of the department store for dinner. I ordered herb-crusted chicken, and later we grabbed a pizza at another place. My mom is probably reading this and thinking I’m spending too much money, but most of these “real meals” are around 1,200 yen—about $7.50—so it’s really not bad.
I also bought a cute coin purse that holds my Suica card and my new health insurance card.
It was a very long day. This was the most important thing I needed to accomplish before my walk, but I didn’t expect it to be so rough. I also didn’t realize that without a Japanese person with me, there was almost no way I could have done it. Sure, I could have used Google Translate on some forms, but for one, the date of birth wasn’t in 1998—it was in the Japanese calendar. And when it came time to go up to the window, there was no way I could have kept up with or understood the conversation.
End of day.