Finding the Right Anbai - 塩梅 -

A Japanese word for the small adjustments that make things feel just right

I’ve had the same portable air conditioner for about five years.

It worked. But every summer, I had the feeling that something wasn’t quite working as well as it should.

This year, I finally became curious about what that “something” was.

The hot weather arrived unusually early in Switzerland, already around May, and then the heatwaves seemed to keep coming back. So instead of simply switching on the air conditioner as I had done in previous summers, I started looking more closely at how I was using it.

The exhaust hose was properly connected, but the simple zip-up window seal I had been using didn’t insulate particularly well. So I replaced it with better insulation.

Then I started thinking about the hose itself.

The longer it was, the more hot surface there was inside the room. I raised the air conditioner so that it could sit closer to the window, shortened the hose, and insulated that too.

I cleaned the filter more carefully and removed the dust that had collected there.

None of these things was a dramatic discovery.

There was no single moment when I thought, “That’s it. I’ve solved summer.”

It was more a process of noticing small things that weren’t quite right, adjusting them, and seeing what happened.

A shorter hose.

Better insulation.

A cleaner filter.

Less hot air finding its way back into the room.

And somewhere in the middle of all this rather unglamorous experimenting, a Japanese word came to mind.

塩梅 — anbai.

A Word That Began With Taste

Anbai is one of those Japanese words that is surprisingly difficult to translate with a single English word.

It can mean condition, balance, adjustment, or simply the way something is going.

We might say:

いい塩梅 — ii anbai.

Something like: just right.

The history of the word is interesting too.

The characters are 塩, salt, and 梅, plum. An older word, enbai, referred to salt and umezu — the acidic liquid from salted plums — which were used in seasoning food. From there, enbai came to describe the balance or adjustment of flavour. Over time, it became mixed with another word, anbai, written with characters meaning to arrange or adjust things appropriately. Today, anbai can describe not only taste, but the condition or balance of all kinds of things.

I like that history.

The word began with taste — adding a little of this, a little of that, until something felt right.

And that was surprisingly close to what I had been doing all summer.

There Was No Single Solution

Of course, the air conditioner itself mattered.

During genuinely dangerous heat, proper cooling matters too. I don’t want to romanticise a time before modern technology or pretend that a few traditional tricks can replace it.

But this summer I realised that simply owning an air conditioner wasn’t the whole answer.

How I used it mattered.

The length of the hose mattered.

The insulation around it mattered.

The seal around the window mattered.

Even whether the filter was clean mattered.

Each adjustment was small.

Together, they made the machine work better.

And once I started thinking this way, I noticed the same pattern elsewhere.

Opening the windows while the morning air was still cool.

Closing them before the strongest heat arrived.

Keeping direct sunlight out.

Using an ice pillow in the bedroom at night.

Eating something light when the heat made a heavy meal unappealing.

Nothing solved summer.

But each small adjustment made it a little easier to live with.

Finding the Right Balance

Perhaps this is what interests me about anbai.

It isn’t necessarily about discovering the perfect solution.

It is more about noticing what isn’t quite right and adjusting it.

Then noticing again.

What works today may need changing tomorrow.

A little more.

A little less.

Move this.

Clean that.

Try again.

There is something very ordinary about it.

And perhaps that’s why the word appeals to me.

It leaves room for things not to be perfect from the beginning.

Different Places, Different Adjustments

Living in Basel has also made me think about how different places find their own ways of dealing with climate.

Older buildings here have thick walls, deep-set windows and shutters that can keep strong sunlight outside.

Traditional Japanese houses developed different responses to different conditions — shade, ventilation, sudare, noren, and other small ways of making summer more bearable.

I don’t think one approach is wiser than another.

They developed in different places, from different climates, materials and ways of living.

And as climates change, some of those old balances may need adjusting again.

Perhaps that, too, is a kind of anbai.

A Little Here, A Little There

Looking back, many of the things I grew up with during Japanese summers seem to work this way.

A sudare doesn’t solve summer.

Neither does a furin.

Neither does uchimizu.

Neither does a cold bowl of noodles.

But perhaps they don’t need to.

A little shade here.

A little breeze there.

Water on a hot surface.

Something cool beneath your head at night.

Small adjustments, layered together.

Not perfect.

Just a little better.

A better anbai.

What This Summer Taught Me

After five years with the same portable air conditioner, I didn’t replace it this summer.

I simply started paying closer attention to it.

I changed the window insulation.

I shortened the hose.

I insulated it.

I cleaned the filter.

And slowly, something that had never seemed quite right began to work better.

It wasn’t exactly an elegant lesson in Japanese culture.

Mostly, it involved insulation material, dust, and a rather unattractive exhaust hose.

But perhaps that is why I like the connection.

Anbai doesn’t have to be beautiful.

It doesn’t have to be perfect.

Sometimes it is simply the process of looking carefully at what you already have, making one small adjustment, and then another, until things begin to feel right.

いい塩梅。

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A Small Piece of Japan

塩梅 — Anbai

Anbai can describe the condition, balance or adjustment of something.

The word has an unusual history. 塩 (shio) means salt and 梅 (ume) means plum. An older form referred to salt and umezu, the acidic liquid from salted plums, used to adjust the flavour of food. Later, its meaning became intertwined with another word referring to arranging or adjusting things appropriately.

Today you might hear:

いい塩梅 — ii anbai

Just right.

Not too much.

Not too little.

The right balance for that moment.

A Thought to Take Home

Maybe not everything needs one perfect solution.

Sometimes we find what works by paying attention, making a small adjustment, and then another.

Until, eventually, it feels about right.

いい塩梅。