The airport in Hong Kong is much like flying into Reagan or San Francisco in that you fly over water until the last minute before touching down. While I generally love flying, this experience never ceases to terrify me. After spending about two seconds at immigration I made my way into the city. I was shocked first by the modernity of the train I took, and secondly by the huge mountains that were shrouded in clouds.
I’ll spare you the details of my first few days since it was overloaded with orientation stuff, and me being awkward and shy in front of new people. But, I will note a few things. One, the city is basically a greatest hits collection of people from all around Britain’s former empire. Two, one gets the sense that smoking is the national sport in China from walking just about anywhere indoor or out. Three, never look an Indian in the eye. All they want is to sell you shirts, and they will not hesitate to break the personal bubble of space that we hold so dear in the US to grab your shirt which CLEARLY needs replacing. Fourth, if you buy a bottle of wine in a new country make sure you have a corkscrew. I made this mistake, but fortunately my many years of fancy book learnin provided my with the logic to force the cork in while only spilling a few drops. I had a particular sense of satisfaction when I finally got my wine flowing and looked up to find a poster on my wall that read ‘There is no place that Jesus is not.’ Apparently it was a good thing I skipped on my initial gut instinct to call the frost desk for a corkscrew, since the Catholic Church ran the hotel.
Now on to the good stuff of going to Red China. We went to Xi’an first, which many people have never heard of until you say ‘You know… that place with the warriors.’ I was confused before I even got there. I expected a fair amount of Chinglish in China, but I was puzzled by Google’s weather forecast of ‘Smoke.’ Surely they meant fog right? Wrong. They absolutely meant smoke. If you don’t believe me Google it and see what comes up.
Since we were arriving in the beginning of January to the middle of China it was a bit on the cold side of things, and all the power plants were thus consuming MASSIVE amounts of coal to heat the city. The visibility is no more than three kilometers, and a tiny layer of sketchy soot covers everything (a fact that pissed me off to no end whenever I rubbed up against anything and ended up with a dirty jacket).
We went to the terracotta warriors first where I was underwhelmed by the so-called ‘Eighth Wonder of the World.’ Perhaps they seem more impressive in postcards, and maybe the enormous complex that covers the site belittles them, but I was nonetheless disappointed at the scale of the warriors. Now don’t get me wrong, I am very impressed at the history behind the site. And I am amazed that not a single warrior was found intact, yet 600 or so life size fighters have been painstakingly reconstructed. All I’m saying is that my mental image was grander than the site itself.
The best part of Xi’an is the wonderfully preserved City Wall. Gale Cleary would be proud that I kept my promise and managed to rent a bike to ride around it. As fun as this was, I demonstrated my intense athletic and manly skills early on as I managed to break the bike and then stared at it in confusion until an employee of the bike company brought me a new one. WIN. Aside from this minor mishap, the wall was gorgeous; at least the part you could see was gorgeous. The end of the wall was almost never in sight as the ever present smoke hid everything more than a few kilometers away.
Among the strangest things we did in Xi’an was a trip to a ‘local village’ to see how the majority of Chinese people live. While this was a richer village, I still felt like we were being driven an hour into the country to look at poor people (something I much prefer doing in the privacy of my own home with some whiskey and an episode of Cops, Jerry, or Maury). It was strange to say the least. Everything was rundown and half broken. The town leader led us around as we were chased by a dozen or so adorable children that were fascinated by our foreign whiteness. However, not everything in this town was kosher with me. The local men folk were taking their pigs out for a giant truck to collect for slaughter.
While I have a fair amount of respect for people that are vegetarians, I will never back down on my love of bacon, ham, and all the glorious foods that can be taken and fried from pigs. That being said, the way the pigs in this little collective farm village were being collected for slaughter made me miss the wonderful ignorance of America where I never see the horrible way in which the McDonald’s type shit I eat is gathered. In a nutshell, about five men pushed the squealing (and I mean squealing like a shrieking hooker getting snuffed) pig up to a truck as a man on the truck dragged the pig by its throat with a hook like instrument up the entrance. It was a sight I will never forget, and hopefully a sight YOU will never forget if I ever manage to get my pictures online.
The other sight worth mentioning is the Wild Goose Pagoda. Aside from the awesome ass name, the pagoda itself is a huge monument to the Chinese people’s former faith in Buddhism. The only downside is the rows of birds, cats, and dogs in hamster cages that line some of the paths for ‘aesthetic value.’ I wanted to free all the animals desperately trying to escape, and much preferred the roosters that had somehow gained the freedom to roam around the grounds sans the cage.
Before I continue lets get one thing straight. This epic trip is essentially a combination of my favorite and least favorite things… going to new places, and group travel. In case you haven’t noticed I am a fan of traveling (and if you haven’t noticed just stop reading cuz ur not getting anything out of this), and I had been looking forward to this trip for months. On the other hand I loath traveling in big groups. From my days as a kid traveling all over the stunningly beautiful land that is the Midwest on buses filled with hockey teams, to more recent trips around Europe with travel groups I cannot stand the slowness, inefficiency, and limited itineraries of traveling in large groups.
With this in mind let’s talk about some of the more entertaining moments of Xi’an. The first night we were there I went to dinner with about a dozen guys to a restaurant across the street from our hotel. While the lack of streetlights and traffic signals made the huge military parade style road more difficult than usual to cross, it took a good 10 minutes longer than any sensible person should take to cross it. After much deliberation on where we were ACTUALLY going, our group stood on the edge of the road like a toddler dipping its foot in the pool afraid of drowning should it jump in. Being the paragon of patience that I am, I quickly said eff this and walked across the road in a style that would have made Moses proud as everyone ran screaming across the street following my apparently bold lead.
I knew dinner was going to be fun as we passed a PetCo style area of fish tanks filled with every edible sea creature imaginable (something I found fascinating until I saw bags filled with live snakes strewn about the floor). None of us spoke and Chinese, so we haphazardly pointed to pictures in the menu that must have been 30 pages long of things ranging from sweet and sour port to fried duck heads. We ended up with a shit ton of food and a few enormous beers for everyone. My inner fatty was in paradise, and was only outshined by my inner Jew who relished in paying $5 USD for the whole thing (Rachel that ones for you).
Our trip featured lectures from guest speakers who were all very interesting, but the person leading the program is a man named Phillip Bruce. This very British fellow was a fascinating man to talk to, and shared my same looks of slightly snobby embarrassment when people in our group said things like ‘Yo dat shit was MAD fucked up.’ We had a great conversation on the new Russo-Chinese oil pipeline, and he even recommended a Russian restaurant in Beijing for me to try.
Xi’an is somewhere everyone should go once in their lifetime. But, once in a lifetime is probably all that is required to enjoy the city. I’m all for ancient walls, warriors, temples, and all that jazz but I was very happy to leave the polluted city for the modern city of Beijing.
P.S. A friend of mine mentioned the replacement of Ted Kennedy by a Republican in an email. While this was fairly interesting news to me (albeit not entirely surprising given the way things have been going…), I noticed that not a single newspaper or person in China seemed to have picked up the story with the same enthusiasm as I’m sure it has been receiving in the US. I feel that we often get so wrapped up in our own politics and drama that we fail to look at the larger picture. Some of the leading stories and things I have found most interesting in China are as follows: lead and iridium poisoning of children all over the country, children being abducted to work in smelting factories, immense governmental corruption, coal miners dying in large numbers due to safety code violations, and hundreds of people dying in Xinjiang in race riots. And we fret over how, as the richest nation on earth, the replacement of a single member of our legislative body will affect us? I admit to getting wrapped up and very passionate over certain issues in American politics, but I think it would do us all a world of good to step back and look at the world around us. We really don’t have it so bad, and we should be thankful everyday for the extravagant and free ways in which we are all able to lead our lives.
P.P.S. I saw a solar eclipse as we were leaving a temple. Not only was it among the coolest things I have ever seen in the sky (which led me to look at it for waaay to long), but it led to an interesting discussion of astrology as it related to the Chinese. Apparently solar eclipses were bad news bears for emperors as they were an indication that the dynasty was losing the ‘mandate of heaven’ to rule. Chinese people believed that the mysterious shadow over the sun was actually a dragon taking a bite out of it.
P.P.P.S. The Chinese idea of dragons probably originated from their interpretation of dinosaur bones.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Strong With The Drink
Traveling alone is something everyone should do at least once in his or her lifetime. Traveling by myself, at my own crazy pace, doing exactly what I wanted, and not waiting for anyone was something I had been looking forward to for a long time. Alas, after about the one-week mark things start to get lonely and weird. Things that used to be thoughts were suddenly words, and I found myself talking way too much to myself like a hobo. But, as the boredom of not talking to anyone in real English set in I found interesting ways to amuse myself. My favorite was ordering things that they didn’t have when I ate out. When the confused Japanese person struggled to explain that they didn’t have it I would simply reply ‘Its ok. I stayed at a Holliday Inn Express last night, and just saved 15% on my car insurance by switching to Geico.’ No one ever knew what I was talking about, but I laughed on the inside.
So as I approached a new height of weirdness I was fortunate enough to be able to stay with my friend Marielle in Tokyo. I headed out of Kyoto and stopped at Nagoya on the way to see the castle (predictable right?). Nagoya is another super modern city with a few cool sights, and a well planned transportation system. Word to the wise, if you want to find an easily navigable city in Japan look for a city that got the shit bombed out of it in WWII. When they rebuilt they did a MUCH better job at organizing things.
Anyways, I finally made it to Tokyo and to Marielle’s house. The Buccilli family was a godsend. A little slice of America in Japan was exactly what I needed to come home to, and get all my questions about the country answered. The food and drink wasn’t bad either!
My first stop during my last week was to Kamakura. Kamakura is the home to a giant outdoor Buddha, and some really pretty hiking. I decided to go on a hike around the mountains after being refused service by a very stern Japanese woman for reasons that remain unknown. The trail began with an epic staircase, and a very steep climb through a forest. As I huffed and puffed my way up the trail I felt a sense of pride and accomplishment in my little adventure. Then I began to see people. First a girl in 4 inch heels, then a group of about 30 senior citizens, and finally a family with toddlers. Watching them skip down the trail was a painful reminder of how out of shape, and NOT outdoorsy I am.
Along the way there were some pretty nature stuff, and a rather strange shrine. I’ll spare you the history, and skip ahead to the good part. People were washing their money there. And by washing I mean their paper Yen was soaked in water, and then held over burning incense to dry out and essentially bring good financial luck. Needless to say I kept my money in my wallet and took pictures of this bizarre act of faith.
Back in Tokyo I hit a few spots around the city. Museums, shrines, temples, and all that jazz. Stay tuned for pics. Aside from the underwhelming Tokyo National Museum, it was all very cool. But the best part of Tokyo is experiencing the culture and seeing how everyday life works. On this subject I learned quite a lot.
Lets begin with Japanese bathrooms. Bathrooms in Japan are strange. There was always an option between Japanese and Western style toilets. The Japanese style amounted to little more than a hole in the floor for you to squat over. While I’m sure this is very hygienic I skipped out on trying it because lets be honest, I would only squat like that in the woods. Western style toilets are just as cool as you would imagine. From the heated seats, to the noises they make I was very impressed. Alas, everything is in Japanese. I ended up terrified of pushing the wrong button and making a mess, and ended up timidly pressing random buttons to make it flush. Once you get to the sink to wash your hands things become even more puzzling. There are sinks, but that’s it. There is no soap, and no way to dry your hands (a fact that led to me awkwardly drying my hands on my pants all the time). I later learned that most Japanese people have their own towels, but the lack of soap still mystifies me.
Garbage cans are something you don’t appreciate until they are gone. The country has a weird lack of waste receptacles yet remains clean on a scale that satisfies even MY OCD. You thus end up carrying around your trash all day (lest you be the only person in the city littering) until you find a garbage can. On a similar cleanly note the Japanese have a wonderful tradition of removing your shoes before you enter someone’s house, temples, and some restaurants (something my mother would love as she and I are our family’s shoe cleaning Nazis). While my feet became cold rather quickly, my OCD and I deeply appreciated this tradition of cleanliness.
Anyone who has ever walked with me knows that I am a speed walker, and that crossing the street with me often requires blind faith that you won’t get run over. Japan wasn’t exactly conducive to my way of getting around. First, people don’t cross the street until their light is green. EVER. I’m sure everyone stared me at as I crossed the street on reds (which had no cars in sight), but my American lack of patience was having none of this senseless waiting. Japan’s population, as we all know, is an aging one. Old people are EVERYWHERE, and their hunchback hobbling does nothing to quicken the glacial pace at which most crowds move.
If I could make one serious critique of Japanese fashion I would tell the nation, “You all have black hair. Deal with it. Stop dying your hair. NO ONE IS BUYING IT.” I have never seen so many people with naturally black hair that is clearly dyed. I probably stared too much at the businessman on the metro with light purple hair, and I might have gawked at the women with orange/yellow hair but I literally could not stop looking. It was like a giant naked Sumo wrestler was standing in front of me. I didn’t necessarily want to look, but I couldn’t take my eyes off it! Aside from the dyed hair I was surprised to find that the 80’s style lion mane was making a comeback with guys. Their hair was HUGE, and I laughed a little (ok maybe a lot) on the inside whenever I saw the ridiculousness. Check out these links to get a sense of what I’m talking about.
• https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVHXzNwAEtW-07JldfyTseWThybJhz5kFu0raHgiAN1tAHgALhKNtofWPYLvipYqm1ZXCSym4WPaov0Up5bZsyWHUmBl_M7TfCwvQzc673ZDd7Lx_PRXdomDK4S7XwkE5Bagn5TbOkHZdf/s400/pr029.jpg
• http://backintheday.blogharbor.com/80s/images/childabuse.jpg
Another Japanese talent I did not understand was their ability to sleep on the metro. Every train seemed to be half full of sleeping people who somehow knew when to wake up and hop off at their stop. It was like being around animals that knew when a storm was coming while I sat there unaware that my stop was next. I finally did fall asleep once on the train, but my skills are not at the Japanese level. I jerked awake as my train was about to leave my stop, and sprinted up and out the door. I made it most of the way...
In DC when a metro door closes on you it generally pops back open. Not so in Tokyo. My foot got caught as I ran out of the train in a style that would have made Indiana Jones look away in shame. To say I face-planted in front of everyone who just got off the train and everyone still on the train is an understatement of epic proportions. With my iPod in one hand, a bag of touristy crap in the other, and my backpack on I was the epitome of ‘that annoying American tourist’ as I came crashing down. I was ready for the train to drag my bloody self down the platform to a horrible death when the conductor opened the door and gave me back my foot. I ran out of the platform mortified, and hoping that of the 35-39 million people in the greater Tokyo metropolitan area I would never see any of the people who witnessed my shame ever again. I later discovered I had smashed a lens filter on my camera. FML.
My last days in Tokyo were filled with some very Japanese experiences. I accompanied my friend to a tiny kimono shop to lend my valuable fashion advice in picking out one for Coming of Age Day (a Shinto holiday for people who recently turned 20). That night we went out for shabu shabu, which is essentially a meal in which you cook your own food in a pot of boiling water or sauce at your table. It was delicious, and I am now obsessed with it.
The next day Marielle got all dressed up in her incredibly complex and uncomfortable kimono for a special mass at her church to celebrate Coming of Age Day (she looked SO pretty). This was my first Catholic mass, and it was… interesting. To begin, the entire thing was in Japanese. So I basically sat there confused for an hour of singing, standing, sitting, standing again, and yet more sitting. Then a man behind me fell asleep and started snoring like a chainsaw. It was incredibly hard not to laugh, and I wanted to thrown a Bible at him to wake his ass up. When charity was collected a man in a Gretzky jersey was passing the dish around and I was even more confused. At the height of my awkwardness everyone suddenly got up and walked up to get blessed and get some kind of wafer thing. I obviously had no clue what was going on, and didn’t realize I was supposed to take a wafer. The priest must have figured out I wasn’t Catholic at about the moment when he tried to bless me by putting his hand on my hair and I was obviously having none of that (I really don’t like people messing up my hair… even for Jesus).
When the mass was over we got dinner with another family from Japan. The meal was great, but the best moment for me was obviously alcohol related. As the meal drew to a close I had sipped down a beer, four or five glasses of wine, and was sipping sambuca with the dads when the Japanese mother at the table said something to me in Japanese. Impressed with my lack of an Asian glow, she apparently said, “You are very strong with the drink.” This was by far the greatest thing any Japanese person said to me during my trip, and we all had a good laugh about Asian people’s glow after a drink or two.
I left the next morning for Hong Kong, and was sad to leave Japan (or the Empire of the Rising Sun as I prefer to call it). In America, for better or worse, we are a very diverse society. To define what makes someone ‘American’ one could spend a lifetime traveling and never truly come up with a unifying answer. Japan on the other hand is the exact opposite. While we can all agree that pretty much anyone can become American, almost no one in Japan believes that someone can become Japanese. The Japanese pride themselves on being one of the most homogenous peoples on Earth, and their sense of national culture and history is pretty much the same everywhere you go. As a person from the world’s big melting pot it was a very different and unique experience to see a country full of people who are all so culturally and socially consistent. While there are obviously downsides to such homogeneity, I enjoyed wandering around the country and experiencing the definite way of life that makes Japan… Japan.
P.S. The best place to find English speakers in Japan is at McDonald’s. I found this very ironic since McDonald’s is THE LAST place in America I would go to find people who speak English. And if you are expecting Japan to be overflowing with Hello Kitty you will be disappointed. Hello Kitty is not as big in Japan as it used to be. This fact upset me ☹.
P.P.S. As I end my time traveling alone I feel I should give a shout out to all the naysayers out there who seem to be convinced that traveling alone to a foreign country where you don’t speak the language is impossible. A lot of people said I was crazy to do this trip, but I don’t regret it for a second. To anyone who thinks they can’t do it you are 100% wrong. Taking a trip like this requires little more than common sense, a little planning, and confidence in yourself and the fact that in the end everything is going to be just fine. While group travel and cruises have their benefits, you will never get the same amount of satisfaction from doing it all on your own making your own way. Give crazy trips like this a shot. You will never regret it.
So as I approached a new height of weirdness I was fortunate enough to be able to stay with my friend Marielle in Tokyo. I headed out of Kyoto and stopped at Nagoya on the way to see the castle (predictable right?). Nagoya is another super modern city with a few cool sights, and a well planned transportation system. Word to the wise, if you want to find an easily navigable city in Japan look for a city that got the shit bombed out of it in WWII. When they rebuilt they did a MUCH better job at organizing things.
Anyways, I finally made it to Tokyo and to Marielle’s house. The Buccilli family was a godsend. A little slice of America in Japan was exactly what I needed to come home to, and get all my questions about the country answered. The food and drink wasn’t bad either!
My first stop during my last week was to Kamakura. Kamakura is the home to a giant outdoor Buddha, and some really pretty hiking. I decided to go on a hike around the mountains after being refused service by a very stern Japanese woman for reasons that remain unknown. The trail began with an epic staircase, and a very steep climb through a forest. As I huffed and puffed my way up the trail I felt a sense of pride and accomplishment in my little adventure. Then I began to see people. First a girl in 4 inch heels, then a group of about 30 senior citizens, and finally a family with toddlers. Watching them skip down the trail was a painful reminder of how out of shape, and NOT outdoorsy I am.
Along the way there were some pretty nature stuff, and a rather strange shrine. I’ll spare you the history, and skip ahead to the good part. People were washing their money there. And by washing I mean their paper Yen was soaked in water, and then held over burning incense to dry out and essentially bring good financial luck. Needless to say I kept my money in my wallet and took pictures of this bizarre act of faith.
Back in Tokyo I hit a few spots around the city. Museums, shrines, temples, and all that jazz. Stay tuned for pics. Aside from the underwhelming Tokyo National Museum, it was all very cool. But the best part of Tokyo is experiencing the culture and seeing how everyday life works. On this subject I learned quite a lot.
Lets begin with Japanese bathrooms. Bathrooms in Japan are strange. There was always an option between Japanese and Western style toilets. The Japanese style amounted to little more than a hole in the floor for you to squat over. While I’m sure this is very hygienic I skipped out on trying it because lets be honest, I would only squat like that in the woods. Western style toilets are just as cool as you would imagine. From the heated seats, to the noises they make I was very impressed. Alas, everything is in Japanese. I ended up terrified of pushing the wrong button and making a mess, and ended up timidly pressing random buttons to make it flush. Once you get to the sink to wash your hands things become even more puzzling. There are sinks, but that’s it. There is no soap, and no way to dry your hands (a fact that led to me awkwardly drying my hands on my pants all the time). I later learned that most Japanese people have their own towels, but the lack of soap still mystifies me.
Garbage cans are something you don’t appreciate until they are gone. The country has a weird lack of waste receptacles yet remains clean on a scale that satisfies even MY OCD. You thus end up carrying around your trash all day (lest you be the only person in the city littering) until you find a garbage can. On a similar cleanly note the Japanese have a wonderful tradition of removing your shoes before you enter someone’s house, temples, and some restaurants (something my mother would love as she and I are our family’s shoe cleaning Nazis). While my feet became cold rather quickly, my OCD and I deeply appreciated this tradition of cleanliness.
Anyone who has ever walked with me knows that I am a speed walker, and that crossing the street with me often requires blind faith that you won’t get run over. Japan wasn’t exactly conducive to my way of getting around. First, people don’t cross the street until their light is green. EVER. I’m sure everyone stared me at as I crossed the street on reds (which had no cars in sight), but my American lack of patience was having none of this senseless waiting. Japan’s population, as we all know, is an aging one. Old people are EVERYWHERE, and their hunchback hobbling does nothing to quicken the glacial pace at which most crowds move.
If I could make one serious critique of Japanese fashion I would tell the nation, “You all have black hair. Deal with it. Stop dying your hair. NO ONE IS BUYING IT.” I have never seen so many people with naturally black hair that is clearly dyed. I probably stared too much at the businessman on the metro with light purple hair, and I might have gawked at the women with orange/yellow hair but I literally could not stop looking. It was like a giant naked Sumo wrestler was standing in front of me. I didn’t necessarily want to look, but I couldn’t take my eyes off it! Aside from the dyed hair I was surprised to find that the 80’s style lion mane was making a comeback with guys. Their hair was HUGE, and I laughed a little (ok maybe a lot) on the inside whenever I saw the ridiculousness. Check out these links to get a sense of what I’m talking about.
• https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVHXzNwAEtW-07JldfyTseWThybJhz5kFu0raHgiAN1tAHgALhKNtofWPYLvipYqm1ZXCSym4WPaov0Up5bZsyWHUmBl_M7TfCwvQzc673ZDd7Lx_PRXdomDK4S7XwkE5Bagn5TbOkHZdf/s400/pr029.jpg
• http://backintheday.blogharbor.com/80s/images/childabuse.jpg
Another Japanese talent I did not understand was their ability to sleep on the metro. Every train seemed to be half full of sleeping people who somehow knew when to wake up and hop off at their stop. It was like being around animals that knew when a storm was coming while I sat there unaware that my stop was next. I finally did fall asleep once on the train, but my skills are not at the Japanese level. I jerked awake as my train was about to leave my stop, and sprinted up and out the door. I made it most of the way...
In DC when a metro door closes on you it generally pops back open. Not so in Tokyo. My foot got caught as I ran out of the train in a style that would have made Indiana Jones look away in shame. To say I face-planted in front of everyone who just got off the train and everyone still on the train is an understatement of epic proportions. With my iPod in one hand, a bag of touristy crap in the other, and my backpack on I was the epitome of ‘that annoying American tourist’ as I came crashing down. I was ready for the train to drag my bloody self down the platform to a horrible death when the conductor opened the door and gave me back my foot. I ran out of the platform mortified, and hoping that of the 35-39 million people in the greater Tokyo metropolitan area I would never see any of the people who witnessed my shame ever again. I later discovered I had smashed a lens filter on my camera. FML.
My last days in Tokyo were filled with some very Japanese experiences. I accompanied my friend to a tiny kimono shop to lend my valuable fashion advice in picking out one for Coming of Age Day (a Shinto holiday for people who recently turned 20). That night we went out for shabu shabu, which is essentially a meal in which you cook your own food in a pot of boiling water or sauce at your table. It was delicious, and I am now obsessed with it.
The next day Marielle got all dressed up in her incredibly complex and uncomfortable kimono for a special mass at her church to celebrate Coming of Age Day (she looked SO pretty). This was my first Catholic mass, and it was… interesting. To begin, the entire thing was in Japanese. So I basically sat there confused for an hour of singing, standing, sitting, standing again, and yet more sitting. Then a man behind me fell asleep and started snoring like a chainsaw. It was incredibly hard not to laugh, and I wanted to thrown a Bible at him to wake his ass up. When charity was collected a man in a Gretzky jersey was passing the dish around and I was even more confused. At the height of my awkwardness everyone suddenly got up and walked up to get blessed and get some kind of wafer thing. I obviously had no clue what was going on, and didn’t realize I was supposed to take a wafer. The priest must have figured out I wasn’t Catholic at about the moment when he tried to bless me by putting his hand on my hair and I was obviously having none of that (I really don’t like people messing up my hair… even for Jesus).
When the mass was over we got dinner with another family from Japan. The meal was great, but the best moment for me was obviously alcohol related. As the meal drew to a close I had sipped down a beer, four or five glasses of wine, and was sipping sambuca with the dads when the Japanese mother at the table said something to me in Japanese. Impressed with my lack of an Asian glow, she apparently said, “You are very strong with the drink.” This was by far the greatest thing any Japanese person said to me during my trip, and we all had a good laugh about Asian people’s glow after a drink or two.
I left the next morning for Hong Kong, and was sad to leave Japan (or the Empire of the Rising Sun as I prefer to call it). In America, for better or worse, we are a very diverse society. To define what makes someone ‘American’ one could spend a lifetime traveling and never truly come up with a unifying answer. Japan on the other hand is the exact opposite. While we can all agree that pretty much anyone can become American, almost no one in Japan believes that someone can become Japanese. The Japanese pride themselves on being one of the most homogenous peoples on Earth, and their sense of national culture and history is pretty much the same everywhere you go. As a person from the world’s big melting pot it was a very different and unique experience to see a country full of people who are all so culturally and socially consistent. While there are obviously downsides to such homogeneity, I enjoyed wandering around the country and experiencing the definite way of life that makes Japan… Japan.
P.S. The best place to find English speakers in Japan is at McDonald’s. I found this very ironic since McDonald’s is THE LAST place in America I would go to find people who speak English. And if you are expecting Japan to be overflowing with Hello Kitty you will be disappointed. Hello Kitty is not as big in Japan as it used to be. This fact upset me ☹.
P.P.S. As I end my time traveling alone I feel I should give a shout out to all the naysayers out there who seem to be convinced that traveling alone to a foreign country where you don’t speak the language is impossible. A lot of people said I was crazy to do this trip, but I don’t regret it for a second. To anyone who thinks they can’t do it you are 100% wrong. Taking a trip like this requires little more than common sense, a little planning, and confidence in yourself and the fact that in the end everything is going to be just fine. While group travel and cruises have their benefits, you will never get the same amount of satisfaction from doing it all on your own making your own way. Give crazy trips like this a shot. You will never regret it.
Friday, January 8, 2010
If I See Another Damn Shrine…
The cultural capital of Japan is the city of Kyoto. I spent about a week there trying to get an idea of what Japan is all about, and taking trips to other places around the country. Kyoto was… interesting. Never before has a city been so interesting, and so thoroughly frustrating to me.
Lets start with the good stuff. The people were incredibly nice and helpful. Japanese people seem to always want to help you when you look lost, and will do their best to communicate in Engreesh whatever they can to point you in the right direction. This was exemplified by the owners of the guesthouses I stayed at (guest houses are like hostels/hotels/private homes all combined). From free maps, to writing in Japanese the things I needed at 7-11 I was never at a loss for a helping hand.
Sightseeing in Kyoto revolves largely around shrines and temples. Jesus Christ there are a lot of shrines. When walking around one gets the feeling that Japan spent its 200 years of isolation building shrines, pagodas, and temples in Kyoto. While they are all very pretty and unlike anything to be found in the States, several stand out as particularly stunning. In a single day I saw the worlds largest wood building, longest wood building, and tallest wood building. You might say that Kyoto has a pretty firm grasp on Japan’s wood hehehe. I noticed that all of these wood buildings had been destroyed by fire at least once in their long (and I mean over a thousand years old long) history, and for the life of me could not figure out why every single building had at one point burned down. An occasional fire is to be expected, but is Japan’s history really full of pyrotechnic monks?
The answer became abundantly clear to me as I approached a temple that appeared to be in the midst of one of these fires. Smoke was coming out of every opening of the building, and I was ready with my camera to take pictures of flaming monks running out the doors when I noticed people going in. Intrigued, I followed them into a room overloaded with candles and incense. I am totally a fan of candles and incense being burned at a safe distance from flammable objects and walls, but this was a display of faith that boarded on the edge of loony. No wonder these places were burning down! On a semi-related note the Japanese have these wonderful tables with a blanket coming out of the edges to cover your legs with, and a heater underneath. Sitting on the floor roasting your legs with some friends is a glorious time.
After seeing just about all the shrines and temples I could handle in one lifetime I shook things up a bit on the northwest edge of the city at the Golden Pavilion and Ryoan-ji Zen rock garden. The famous Pavilion was like nothing I’d ever seen, and the rock garden was a nice place to relax and contemplate life (or why the other tourists there felt it was ok to be loud and obnoxious).
My favorite part of Kyoto was going to Monkey Mountain. That’s right, I said Monkey Mountain. A 20-minute hike up to the top of a hill/mountain overlooking the city will bring you to the feeding ground of what the signs only referred to as ‘Japanese Monkeys.’ While terrifying at first to walk down a path of hungry screeching animals, the experience was amazing. Bags of oranges were for sale in the building where you could feed them through the fence, and I fell in love with a baby who I fed half my bag too (I also fell in love with the Aussie tourists doing the same thing). Despite one very large monkey attacking my hand and scaring the shit out of me for my baby’s orange, the experience was great.
The most unique part of Kyoto in my opinion is the Toriis at Fushimi Inari-taisha. Toriis signify a place as being sacred and every temple has one or two in front of it. This path had hundreds of them all built right next to each other (all orange) creating a kind of tunnel that runs up a mountain through a forest. Arriving around sunrise was a glorious idea, and I spent an hour or so having one of the most peaceful walks of my life. The only down side to this place is that there is no apparent end, and the gates are not built in one single path. So after an hour of walking up this mountain (something I found myself doing a lot in Kyoto) I decided there was no way there could be more gates ahead that were any different from the hundreds I had already walked through. Coming down one is presented with a series of forks in the road that didn’t seem to be there on the way up. So through a series of lucky guesses I eventually made my way out.
On a last positive note, the food in Kyoto is also great. Between traditional Japanese food and a delicious meal of Kim chi I was stuffed every night. I also must make a brief mention to the deliciousness of shrine stand food. In front of every shrine is a row of stands selling different foods carnival style. The octopus and sausages were all good and fine, but NOTHING compared to the fried chicken on a stick. OMFG this stuff was good. I’m kinda shamed to think about how much of it I ate. I must admit my inner Afro came out as I gorged myself on cup after cup of fried chicken, and all I could think was that the Colonel could learn a thing or two from these people.
Alas, not all was sunshine and lollipops in Kyoto. My arch nemesis quickly became the system of public transportation. There is no simple way to get around Kyoto. Your choices are cab (expensive), subway (doesn’t go anywhere), bus (slow, inconvenient, confusing, makes you feel like a poor person), above ground train (tracks run by two different companies, and doesn’t go anywhere convenient), and foot (nothing is close together so fuck that). I ended up utilizing all of these modes of transportation in my extremely frustrating attempt to get around the city. By the end of my stay there I was convinced of the fact that I will never live in a city that does not have an effective metro system.
To add to the hassle of getting around you must realize that Kyoto was mostly spared from the bombings of WWII, and thus their streets are still organized as they have been for hundreds of years. This makes traveling even harder (along with the fact that streets generally aren’t labeled, at least in English). Consider that and the lack of labeling at pretty much every site, and you begin to feel my confusion.
My last bone to pick with getting around Kyoto is scales. Every map I used either had no scale, or was badly mislabeled (at least I thought so). As my five-minute walks turned into 20-minute hikes I quickly began to lose my patience with these maps. At the height of my frustration I spent an hour getting to one temple that was closed, and another confusing trip to the Imperial Gardens. When I finally arrived I was starving and nothing was open. I felt like I was having a ‘Red Bandana Day’ as we refer to it in my house, when suddenly everything was alright. Across an intersection like a golden haloed angel was McDonald’s. Let me tell you, nothing makes you feel better like a greasy American meal when you’re cold, tired, hungry, and pissed off.
After that glorious meal I wandered around the peaceful (yet unimpressive) Imperial Gardens, and visited some near by shrines. A canal runs near the river in Kyoto, and a path known as the Philosophers Walk runs along side it. It’s supposed to be one of ‘Kyoto’s best loved spots,’ according to my guidebook. Maybe it was because I arrived at dusk, maybe it was because I was cold, OR maybe it was because the canal is basically a stream running through a glorified ally lined with touristy shops and restaurants that I was disappointed with this famed path. At any rate, I was ready to call it a day so I took three different busses to a station that was a 10-minute walk from my hotel. Thanks Kyoto public transportation.
The last place worth mentioning is an area called Gion. Known as a place of geishas, karaoke, and bars I felt weird wandering around by myself. Every street had a plethora of strip clubs, and an array of promoters and bouncers in front of each. Needless to say I skipped the titty bars, and instead went to an place called Pontocho Ally. This tiny ally is the idyllic home to Kyoto’s gay district, and is best appreciated after dark. I was shocked to find that, for the first time in my experiences with gay districts, it was NOT as sketchy as its surrounding counterparts. Most restaurants were full so I chose a tiny place that had great food, but the most depressing music and server of all time. Feeling underwhelmed with the area I wandered home, and wouldn’t you know it, I got really lost and had to take a cab.
Despite the ups and downs of each day in Kyoto, I always knew that I could end the day on a high note. I knew this because 7-11s are everywhere, and they all sell a variety of liquors. So with several Japanese beers in hand (me with beer, surprising right?) I wrapped myself up and watched Battle Royale on my laptop. Despite all of my bitching, I actually did like Kyoto a lot. The pictures were great, the food tasty, the people nice, and the monkeys were generally nice. I would recommend it as a stop to anyone traveling to Japan.
P.S. I have been wondering about two things a lot in the past day or so. One, why do all Japanese bathrooms have a sink to wash your hands, but no soap or towels to dry your hands off? I keep getting my hands wet and awkwardly having to dry them off on my pants ☹. Two, how do Japanese people sleep on the metro? I can’t help but notice the large amount of people with heads slumped over in an apparent nap on the metro, despite the constant movement and noises of the train. How do these people wake up for their stops? Maybe they aren’t asleep. I don’t know, but hopefully I will find out when I meet up with my friend Marielle in Tokyo!
P.P.S. I now realize that these events are in no way organized in any chronological order. Please bear with my ADD mind, and tangent thoughts.
Lets start with the good stuff. The people were incredibly nice and helpful. Japanese people seem to always want to help you when you look lost, and will do their best to communicate in Engreesh whatever they can to point you in the right direction. This was exemplified by the owners of the guesthouses I stayed at (guest houses are like hostels/hotels/private homes all combined). From free maps, to writing in Japanese the things I needed at 7-11 I was never at a loss for a helping hand.
Sightseeing in Kyoto revolves largely around shrines and temples. Jesus Christ there are a lot of shrines. When walking around one gets the feeling that Japan spent its 200 years of isolation building shrines, pagodas, and temples in Kyoto. While they are all very pretty and unlike anything to be found in the States, several stand out as particularly stunning. In a single day I saw the worlds largest wood building, longest wood building, and tallest wood building. You might say that Kyoto has a pretty firm grasp on Japan’s wood hehehe. I noticed that all of these wood buildings had been destroyed by fire at least once in their long (and I mean over a thousand years old long) history, and for the life of me could not figure out why every single building had at one point burned down. An occasional fire is to be expected, but is Japan’s history really full of pyrotechnic monks?
The answer became abundantly clear to me as I approached a temple that appeared to be in the midst of one of these fires. Smoke was coming out of every opening of the building, and I was ready with my camera to take pictures of flaming monks running out the doors when I noticed people going in. Intrigued, I followed them into a room overloaded with candles and incense. I am totally a fan of candles and incense being burned at a safe distance from flammable objects and walls, but this was a display of faith that boarded on the edge of loony. No wonder these places were burning down! On a semi-related note the Japanese have these wonderful tables with a blanket coming out of the edges to cover your legs with, and a heater underneath. Sitting on the floor roasting your legs with some friends is a glorious time.
After seeing just about all the shrines and temples I could handle in one lifetime I shook things up a bit on the northwest edge of the city at the Golden Pavilion and Ryoan-ji Zen rock garden. The famous Pavilion was like nothing I’d ever seen, and the rock garden was a nice place to relax and contemplate life (or why the other tourists there felt it was ok to be loud and obnoxious).
My favorite part of Kyoto was going to Monkey Mountain. That’s right, I said Monkey Mountain. A 20-minute hike up to the top of a hill/mountain overlooking the city will bring you to the feeding ground of what the signs only referred to as ‘Japanese Monkeys.’ While terrifying at first to walk down a path of hungry screeching animals, the experience was amazing. Bags of oranges were for sale in the building where you could feed them through the fence, and I fell in love with a baby who I fed half my bag too (I also fell in love with the Aussie tourists doing the same thing). Despite one very large monkey attacking my hand and scaring the shit out of me for my baby’s orange, the experience was great.
The most unique part of Kyoto in my opinion is the Toriis at Fushimi Inari-taisha. Toriis signify a place as being sacred and every temple has one or two in front of it. This path had hundreds of them all built right next to each other (all orange) creating a kind of tunnel that runs up a mountain through a forest. Arriving around sunrise was a glorious idea, and I spent an hour or so having one of the most peaceful walks of my life. The only down side to this place is that there is no apparent end, and the gates are not built in one single path. So after an hour of walking up this mountain (something I found myself doing a lot in Kyoto) I decided there was no way there could be more gates ahead that were any different from the hundreds I had already walked through. Coming down one is presented with a series of forks in the road that didn’t seem to be there on the way up. So through a series of lucky guesses I eventually made my way out.
On a last positive note, the food in Kyoto is also great. Between traditional Japanese food and a delicious meal of Kim chi I was stuffed every night. I also must make a brief mention to the deliciousness of shrine stand food. In front of every shrine is a row of stands selling different foods carnival style. The octopus and sausages were all good and fine, but NOTHING compared to the fried chicken on a stick. OMFG this stuff was good. I’m kinda shamed to think about how much of it I ate. I must admit my inner Afro came out as I gorged myself on cup after cup of fried chicken, and all I could think was that the Colonel could learn a thing or two from these people.
Alas, not all was sunshine and lollipops in Kyoto. My arch nemesis quickly became the system of public transportation. There is no simple way to get around Kyoto. Your choices are cab (expensive), subway (doesn’t go anywhere), bus (slow, inconvenient, confusing, makes you feel like a poor person), above ground train (tracks run by two different companies, and doesn’t go anywhere convenient), and foot (nothing is close together so fuck that). I ended up utilizing all of these modes of transportation in my extremely frustrating attempt to get around the city. By the end of my stay there I was convinced of the fact that I will never live in a city that does not have an effective metro system.
To add to the hassle of getting around you must realize that Kyoto was mostly spared from the bombings of WWII, and thus their streets are still organized as they have been for hundreds of years. This makes traveling even harder (along with the fact that streets generally aren’t labeled, at least in English). Consider that and the lack of labeling at pretty much every site, and you begin to feel my confusion.
My last bone to pick with getting around Kyoto is scales. Every map I used either had no scale, or was badly mislabeled (at least I thought so). As my five-minute walks turned into 20-minute hikes I quickly began to lose my patience with these maps. At the height of my frustration I spent an hour getting to one temple that was closed, and another confusing trip to the Imperial Gardens. When I finally arrived I was starving and nothing was open. I felt like I was having a ‘Red Bandana Day’ as we refer to it in my house, when suddenly everything was alright. Across an intersection like a golden haloed angel was McDonald’s. Let me tell you, nothing makes you feel better like a greasy American meal when you’re cold, tired, hungry, and pissed off.
After that glorious meal I wandered around the peaceful (yet unimpressive) Imperial Gardens, and visited some near by shrines. A canal runs near the river in Kyoto, and a path known as the Philosophers Walk runs along side it. It’s supposed to be one of ‘Kyoto’s best loved spots,’ according to my guidebook. Maybe it was because I arrived at dusk, maybe it was because I was cold, OR maybe it was because the canal is basically a stream running through a glorified ally lined with touristy shops and restaurants that I was disappointed with this famed path. At any rate, I was ready to call it a day so I took three different busses to a station that was a 10-minute walk from my hotel. Thanks Kyoto public transportation.
The last place worth mentioning is an area called Gion. Known as a place of geishas, karaoke, and bars I felt weird wandering around by myself. Every street had a plethora of strip clubs, and an array of promoters and bouncers in front of each. Needless to say I skipped the titty bars, and instead went to an place called Pontocho Ally. This tiny ally is the idyllic home to Kyoto’s gay district, and is best appreciated after dark. I was shocked to find that, for the first time in my experiences with gay districts, it was NOT as sketchy as its surrounding counterparts. Most restaurants were full so I chose a tiny place that had great food, but the most depressing music and server of all time. Feeling underwhelmed with the area I wandered home, and wouldn’t you know it, I got really lost and had to take a cab.
Despite the ups and downs of each day in Kyoto, I always knew that I could end the day on a high note. I knew this because 7-11s are everywhere, and they all sell a variety of liquors. So with several Japanese beers in hand (me with beer, surprising right?) I wrapped myself up and watched Battle Royale on my laptop. Despite all of my bitching, I actually did like Kyoto a lot. The pictures were great, the food tasty, the people nice, and the monkeys were generally nice. I would recommend it as a stop to anyone traveling to Japan.
P.S. I have been wondering about two things a lot in the past day or so. One, why do all Japanese bathrooms have a sink to wash your hands, but no soap or towels to dry your hands off? I keep getting my hands wet and awkwardly having to dry them off on my pants ☹. Two, how do Japanese people sleep on the metro? I can’t help but notice the large amount of people with heads slumped over in an apparent nap on the metro, despite the constant movement and noises of the train. How do these people wake up for their stops? Maybe they aren’t asleep. I don’t know, but hopefully I will find out when I meet up with my friend Marielle in Tokyo!
P.P.S. I now realize that these events are in no way organized in any chronological order. Please bear with my ADD mind, and tangent thoughts.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
For Relaxing Times, Make It Suntory Times
I really cannot praise the Shinkansen system enough. The high-speed trains that link every city in Japan make traveling around the Empire of the Rising Sun easier than Britney Spears. And since my rail pass allowed me seven days of unlimited travel on all JR lines (JR = Japan Rail) I decided to take a few day trips away from Kyoto. My first stop was the modern seaside city of Osaka.
My expectations were low for Osaka, as my guidebook didn’t really offer much to do there. The home city of today’s major Yakuza clans looked like an ultra modern Japanese town with a castle and aquarium I wanted to see. My predictions for Osaka were quickly blown away in what turned out to be a nearly perfect day of traveling.
A quick 15 minute ride gets you into Shin-Osaka from Kyoto Station, and from there the Osaka metro system conveniently gets you almost anywhere in the city. I hopped over to the Osaka Castle and fell in love. I love castles to begin with, but this was something totally new. Between the huge moat surrounding the castle (which makes getting out a pain in the ass) and the actual castle itself I was in photographic heaven. After an hour of wandering the grounds and going up to the top of the castle I decided I had enough time to go to the Umeda Sky Building (basically an overlook at the top of a building).
The first sign that something was not right was the sign pointing to the glass elevator. For someone who is not a fan of heights, a 42-story ride up the side of a building was not the boatload of fun you might imagine it to be. The building is basically two towers connected by a platform at the top, and to reach the observatory you must take an escalator across the gap between the towers. Logical right? I was yet again not a fan, but eventually made it up and took some great shots overlooking Osaka. On an awkward note, the top floor seems to be made for couples who can sit in a couple’s room which is dimly lit and has lights that change color as the pressure changes on the seats.
After my weird love tower experience I did what I had wanted to do all day… I went to the aquarium. I love aquariums. LOVE THEM. For some reason it brings out the five year old in me, and when I go I almost get excited enough to stand the ACTUAL five year olds there. So for two hours I walked the eight floors and saw all the parts of the ‘Ring of Fire’ as that is the theme of the aquarium. My last stop was downtown for some of Osaka’s famous dining. I had some excellent sushi, and became even more convinced of the fact that there is no better ending to a meal then a steaming hot bottle of Sake. Yum a dum dum.
I finally returned to my place in Kyoto where I sampled a bunch of Japanese beers by the can with some guys from around Europe and Australia (Asahu Super Dry was definitely my fav). The night ended with bottles of Japanese Suntory whiskey, and all of us doing impressions of Bill Murray saying ‘For relaxing times, make it Suntory times.’
My second ‘field trip’ was to Hiroshima. Upon arriving at the city we all know for all the worst reasons I jetted away to a ferry out to Miyajima Island. The famous Torii (a gate in front of shrines) sticks out of the sea and signifies the whole island as sacred. Several things truck me as being odd about this island-
- Deer roam freely with no fear of humans
- No one is permitted to give birth or die on the island
- Felling trees is forbidden
- Japanese business men seem to be the only people partaking in the ceremonies within the shrine
- The mustard served at every food stand is in fact NOT yellow mustard, rather an intensely spicy imitation of mustard which should not be put all over your sausage-on-a-stick like I did
I’m not sure how they enforce the death thing, but the island was scenic and I felt very outdoorsy touching a deer and walking past naturally occurring trees.
After taking the ferry back to the mainland and shuttling back to downtown (both of which were covered by my rail pass J) I hopped over to the Peace Park to see all the bomb stuff. Seeing the A-Bomb Dome, the mound of ashes, and trees that are missing half their needles from being blown off was depressing to say the least. I could not bring myself to go into the museum as I was already feeling enough like an Emo kid from seeing all the reminders of how horrible the bomb’s after effects were. Particularly heart-wrenching was a memorial to a girl who got sick after the bomb, and believed she could somehow survive if she made a 1,000 paper cranes. Needless to say, the girl eventually bit the atomic dust, but her story still inspires Japanese kids around the country to make origami cranes and send them to Hiroshima.
Resisting the urge to slit my wrists and drink with the hobos in the park, I walked over to Hiroshima castle (again with the awesome castles). I should explain something about visiting castles, and most things, in Japan. Every sight has a shrine or something holy near it. Thus, all the Japanese tourists flock to the shrine to pray and offer money, candles and all that jazz. For a white heathen like myself this is good news since it means that there are relatively few people at the gorgeous castle nearby, and I can simply walk around the crowd of the faithful to take pictures of the beautiful structure these people seem to care little about. On a related note, buying souvenirs at most places also sucks due to the fact that nearly every stand wants to sell you good luck charms, candles, and a bunch of other religious crap that I have no interest in purchasing. Hello Kitty is always present though, so don’t freak out too much.
On the way back to Kyoto I stopped at Himeji to see the castle there (I wasn’t kidding about liking castles). This idea was an epic win. A short walk from the train station is the castle considered to be the grandest of all samurai castles in Japan. Even though it was closed at this hour, I still managed to spend a half hour taking pictures and admiring its beauty. Walking back to the train station I took a picture of an ally way and some kids apparently wanted me to take their picture too. For some reason all Japanese people make the peace sign for their pictures. I have no logical explanation for this. If you know why they do this please tell me. (Sorry for the random tangent thought)
P.S. As a closing thought, I am eating something that looks like the equivalent of Japanese Chex Mix, which looked normal enough at 7-11. But, when I opened it I smelled the distinct smell of a fish tank. It tastes great, but I am again amazed by the Japanese’ ability to incorporate sea things into everything they eat. Even the rice cake things I am obsessed with apparently contain sea urchin. All I can say is don’t knock it until you’ve tried it (cuz I know you are all thinking to yourself how gross this stuff must be).Captain's Log...
To my left is the Pacific Ocean; to my right is Mt. Fuji. Staring (or possibly sleeping, I’m not 100% sure) at me from across the aisle is a Japanese woman in her 60s wearing leather pants. I am currently trusting my life to the engineers who designed this train which is hurtling me down the east coast of Honshu at 200 mph, and all I can think is ‘Why, in our battle against global warming, has no one in the US built a rail system like this?’
For those of you just tuning into my life lets rewind a bit. This coming spring semester I will be studying abroad in Hong Kong, and before I begin my studies I am vacationing alone in Japan for two weeks exploring the country. Now back to the story.
A short two days ago I began packing, as I tend to do, at the last possible minute for several months and seasons abroad. As I was trying to pack as little as possible from my wardrobe it was effectively a gay man’s version of ‘Sophie’s Choice,’ but I eventually managed to cut my shoes down to five pairs and everything else down to what happened to be the exact weight limit for All Nippon Airways requirements.
So after a sad goodbye and much too little time at home with Portillo's I took the 13-hour flight from O’Hare to Narita. The flight consisted of 2 meals, 3 movies, 2 magazines, 1 nap, ½ of a book, 4 mini bottles of wine, and me planning out all the details of my days in Japan. With the minor set backs of the Japanese woman seated next to me (who seemed to enjoy Bloody Marys with a ton of pepper and falling asleep slumped forward leaning on me), and my accidentally tripping a small child into a face-plant in front of the whole aisle (which garnered more than a few glares) the flight was very enjoyable. I recommend ANA to anyone traveling to Japan.
I must admit that my first impression of Tokyo was very underwhelming. As my hotel was located north of the city center I arrived with my suitcase to a walk down a dreary street past what appeared to be a police raid (I later figured out I was near a police station). Yet, determined to see something more Japanese (aka bright neon, Hello Kitty, and yelling in Japanese) I hopped on the metro down to an area called Ginza for dinner. Walking out of the metro was like entering another planet. Ginza was like an upscale version of Manhattan with enough neon signs to give Vegas a run for its money. I spent the next several hours wandering around in photographic heaven, before heading back to my hotel in a jet lag/adrenaline induced haze.
For anyone who has ever ridden a metro system in the US, imagine that system on steroids connected to eight other systems Octomom style and you will have some clue as to the size and intenseness of the Tokyo metro. It is super easy to use and (like the rest of the city) has everything labeled in English. I spent the day riding it around the city (walking really isn’t an option unless you want to end up with bloody nubs for feet after the epic walk it would take to cross the city). I spent the morning at the Tsukiji Fish Market, which is essentially a giant seafood auction/market. I had an excellent brunch of eel, octopus, rice, caviar, and whale (which was delicious and undoubtedly my favorite part). Every vendor seemed to want me to sample their food, yet very few of them wanted to tell me what it was. A fact I learned to accept and embrace.
After seeing every catchable creature from the deep blue on display and still partially alive, I spent the afternoon wandering around the Imperial Gardens and visiting a ton of shrines in central Tokyo. It was a truly awesome experience wandering around the history and culture of a society, which I am so admittedly ignorant of. There was a unique sense of Place in many areas that I had never experienced before.
Feeling proud of my accomplishments for the day I gave my feet a rest by wandering through the narrow streets of Harajuku (a shopping district). I made it about a block before my credit card started taking hits. The fashion in Tokyo is incrdible. Everyone (even old people like old leather pants sitting across from me) is dressed in chic outfits that would put 99% of Americans to shame. I could not resist.
By early evening I knew I had to run back to my hotel, drop off my stuff, change, and head out for New Years celebrations. This plan didn’t work out so much. In my typical fashion I picked up a bottle of wine at 7-11 (I’m not THAT trashy but there were no apparent liquor stores around) and came back to my room at which point I took an accidental nap. Awaking just an hour and a half before midnight I was the ultimate driver of the Struggle Bus as I dragged my exhausted, jetlagged ass off my Tatami mat and mattress bed to get dressed and chug my bottle of Japanese wine. Needless to say the wine was terrible, but I had a bag of salty rice cakes (which I’m now obsessed with) and a coke to wash it down with as I ran to the metro in a race against time to get to Shibuya for the New Years.
Of course, midnight struck as I was pulling into my final station. I shared THAT special moment with three Japanese teenagers who were drunkenly waving their phones around screaming ‘Haaaaaaaappy Newa Yeahhhhh!!!!” The intersection in front of Shibuya Station is the busiest in the world, but it was totally shut down by thousands of screaming people going absolutely ape shit over the new year. It was a sight to see. Everyone from girls in kitty costumes, to naked drunk Japanese guys (who should NOT have been naked in the cold) were running around drinking, celebrating, and smashing bottles on things. A VERY excited girl even run up to me screaming ‘YES WE CAN!!!’ in an aparent reference to Obama. I eventually stumbled into a McDonalds (no surprises there) and ate a delicious drunken meal overlooking an intersection. By the time I made it back it I was beyond exhausted and collapsed onto my mat into a deep sleep.
So here I am on the Shinkansen bullet train to Kyoto watching the country pass me by at speeds I normally only feel comfortable traveling at on planes. I hope to keep this blog updated on a somewhat regular basis with the news and ridiculousness of my travels. Hopefully it won’t end up like every other boring study abroad blog stating the names and places of everything I see, and maybe I’ll even manage to translate some of my sass into something readable.
At any rate, I am beyond excited to begin my travels stumbling around the world. With Anthony Bordain and anyone who has ever dared to go places and do things everyone else told them was crazy as my role models I am ready to put a few miles behind me around Asia.
P.S. As I finish writing this Tokyo still does not seemed to have ended. Perhaps an urban environment stretches down the east country as I have heard, or perhaps Tokyo is just really fucking big. Either way I love it.
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