Bumming a Ride to the Rising Sun
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This is the second edition of the Lone Ranger diary series. These entries were written in November 1998. It contains my trip journal in Japan, including Osaka, Kyoto, and Tokyo! This content is best viewed with a W3C stylesheet compliant application. The Harajuku entries includes street interviews and requires a MP3 compliant application. I recommend winamp. And of course a big shout out to Nina for letting me crash at her place and mimi for the cover illustration !
There aren't many zines about road trips in Japan. I figure the cultural attitudes and prices make it difficult for zinesters to get over here and travel about. (Though if you are interested in hitching through, you might want to check out Ferguson's The Hitchhiker's Guide to Japan.) Maybe if you are were an English Language Teacher (ELT) it could happen. But I haven't been able to find much evidence of ELT diaries or zines on the Web, and that's too bad, cause those folks must have some good stories to tell.
As usual I'm here on someone else's expense. I was planning on going to a W3C (Web) meeting, but then I wasn't since I was away on Sabbatical at Harvard. But then I got an invite through Harvard to a different meeting. So I jumped at it, arranged to go to both meetings and added a bunch of days on at the end seeing Tokyo. I'll keep a small journal. I always find it can capture much more than photos.
On the flight over, I tried to learn some basic words. Some come easy: domo arigato Mr. Roboto.
Kawai! (Cute!) Japan is the land of "cute." Big eyes and pursed, heart shaped lips is the ideal of anime. But even in the machismo of hot rod there is sweetness. After taking a shower — much needed after the long flight — I hit the streets of Osaka. Evidently, I'm on a "strip." Obnoxiously wealthy kids drive mod'ed white minivans full of stereo equipment and Hello Kitty dolls. The vans glow, from the neon street glow below to the strobe and cop lights above. Flash and cash are still big in the Land of the Rising Sun. Perhaps the depression means no more gold plated cars, but neon buys attention too.
When I was in Hong Kong, the dominant fashion was dark jeans with a 6" cuff at the bottom. In Osaka, every other girl is wearing a black blouse/sweater, gray skirt, and calf high black boots. Otherwise the other normals wear some upscale Euro-trash type ensemble. The cuties and weirdoes are fabulous! On the cute side there are all pink outfits, Raggedy Anne type shit, and sweaters with hoods that have long bunny ears. Skater kids wear khakis with big knit caps, others wear funky jump suits, reminding me of the Beastie Boy video in Japan. (I actually visited the subway station where they filmed Intergalactic.) I feel like the emergency response funk team is here, ready to jump into action if need be. There is some bleached and colored hair, but if you are going to rage, wig out: half the kids have permed hair, but I dig the anime-like hair buns.
There are arcades and pachinko parlors everywhere. I easily wasted 15 dollars worth of those silver balls just to see what the big deal was. Originally, I was having fun, shooting a little ball every couple of seconds. A friendly Japanese man showed me that I was doing it wrong, that instead I had to keep the wheel turned and keep a steady flow of them bouncing around. That lasted all of two minutes. Two of the most popular games are headache generators, blasting their music to the street and drawing attention to the kids keeping apace of scrolling DJ or dance direction. The one game is a set of sampled sounds and scratches playing from a DJ-like console, including a turntable! The other is a dance game, where a crowd of your friends and strangers gather to watch you jump on a grid of colored squares trying to hit the right steps and keep up with your opponent. Silly stuff really. But that's one thing I like about Japan, the ability to be silly. (Like those photo machines! In the past I scoffed at photo booths, but now I love making funny faces with friends in a Neo-Print sticker machine.) Not all dance was simulated. A crew of young Japanese guys was breakin it down on the street outside the arcade. On a whole, not as good as the crews in NYC, but there was definite talent.
After wandering I bumped into W3C colleagues from France and Ian from NYC. They were also staying in Osaka before taking the train to Kyoto the next day. They were hungry and we went to a nice sort of place where nothing was written or spoken in English. Ian ordered most of the food, being the typical sushi eating New Yorker, and the both of us — having read the tour books — kept the others from gesturing the wrong way, or blowing their nose in public. Sniffing is a sign of restraint in Japan.
Sunday morning I took a train with a colleague, his wife and baby to Kyoto for some meetings. The tour books say that the Japanese are friendly but reserved, however some will go out of their way to engage an American. Sometimes I think tour books are like modern art, it's not so much what they say, but what they don't say; it's in the negative spaces undefined by the broad statements that you find the neat stuff.
The train was crowded and I stood in the isle next to a man that was in that negative space, letting it all hang out. His shirt was unbuttoned, as well as his pants and shoes. Some sort of Japanese Al Bundy plopped upon his couch on an express train. He quickly struck up a conversation with my colleague and his wife during which he tucked in his shirt and became one of the friendliest folks I saw in Japan. They exchanged cards and showed each other family pictures while speaking in an animated but tortured English.
As we left the Osaka prefecture, seats emptied by the doors and I moved to an empty area and watched the view inside and the outside come and go. The land wasn't really the countryside, but we certainly left the industry of Osaka behind. My impressions of what the Japanese country looked like are defined by anime. Japan seemed to be a country of soft autumn colors, colors of an earthy hue: green hills, wood homes, rice paper, and reed mats, sprinkled with dashes of vibrant dragon red. My impressions were well founded. While I never passed the true countryside, I did see homes standing before great green hills and I was surprised by the appearance of small rice paddies between the houses of small towns.
Upon arriving in Kyoto, I and my French speaking colleagues (the French, one Canadian and one New Yorker that spoke the language) went sightseeing. We had to pay to see the first castle, placed on a small lake and painted in gold leaf. It was overly touristy; gold leaf as a symbolic patina of commercialism. Even Japanese paid to see it. I could imagine living in that castle would have been wonderful and peaceful hundreds of year ago. To wake up in the morning, look out upon the water and the woods and go for a walk in the garden. But not today.
Eventually, we doubled back on the path the bus took to visit a temple. This turned out to be more of a neighborhood park that I enjoyed much more. I think the weather was contributing to my mood. It felt like a cross between the green of spring and crispness of fall. Some of the trees were barren but others were draped in red and gold. At the temple I did an unprecedented thing and drank from a bamboo cup at a public fountain. No sooner did I do this that I though I could feel a cold coming on, but I easily survived my experiment in public hygiene...
After the temples we hopped back on the bus and returned to the hotels. I accompanied Ian, Thierre, and Stefan back to their Ryokan, a traditional Japanese inn. The Ryokan was located on a back street with no indication of its nature other than the many shoes in the anteroom. [Colleagues frequently told me that they knew they were at the right building by the presence of my shoes (yellow doc martins) at its entrance!] Daniel was already in the room, having returned immediately after the castle and was mellowly laid out on the reed mats in his robe. I liked the Ryokon. While you have to share the room (pull out the futons from the closet) it feels very grounded and authentic. More so than my string of small western style hotel rooms. (Though the toilets in the luxury hotels I ended up staying at were fabulous. Heated toilet seats and complete bidets with adjustable water pressure!)
One of the big deals at the Ryokan is the bath. You get in your robe and go to the baths down stairs, where you then scrub off in the shower or with a bucket before soaking in a very small, very hot public bath. I wanted to try it, having read much about bathing in Japan and tattooed Japanese gangsters, but the hostess would not allow it. However Ian, Stefan and Thierre soon returned finding the bath too hot. Usually, by the time you return, the hostess has laid out your futon and dinner before you return.
So I didn't get to bathe. Neither did I get to squat. Supposedly many traditional restrooms are not of the sitting or standing type, but you squat facing towards the "hole" — which is the opposite from many other Asian cultures. On the bullet train I took, it had both types of bathrooms marked on the doors, but I'm unsteady enough on moving objects. On airplanes, I usually lean my head on the sloped wall/ceiling; I prop myself against it while trying to hit the spot. (I wonder if they design them that way, or whether I could do it since I'm tall.) Also, I didn't encounter a unisex bathroom. Tour books warn of restrooms that have male and female entrances that place you in the same room! Similar mechanisms for similar functions.
In the evening we headed to Jian. It reminded me of Georgetown (DC) because of the weather (which was beautiful), restaurants, and small canals and streams running along the streets. Again we took the plunge and had dinner in a native, non-English speaking restaurant. I enjoyed the sitting style of Japanese eating. At this restaurant we abandoned our shoes and were escorted up 3 flights of diners intimately conversing around low candlelit tables. Our setting was on the top floor, with 2 other smaller parties. Running around in my socks reminded me of childhood slumber parties.
One of our neighbors was a tipsy bunch of young Japanese businessmen: salary-men shedding their inhibition before the coaxing whisper of sake. As the evening progressed, our two parties casually filled the 3rd floor and exchanged bits and pieces of language and culture. First, I was dubbed "Jim Carey" and presented with a small plastic action figure, one of the many they would give us! Ian reciprocated by doing a trick: lighting a matching and placing it in his mouth and still have it burn after removing it. A Japanese guy then reciprocated and tried to do with same with 2 burning matches and burned his mouth, but got an ovation for his efforts. The Japanese then began a sort of clapping chant/song to prompt the next trick. I rose to do the "my nose can make a breaking sound when twisted." I do this by clicking my thumbnail against a front tooth, much to the wonder and delight of our friends. We named a few more of the Gaijin, they agreed that Arnaud looked like Bruce Willis, and after a couple of hours in our little alcove we returned to the street.
Like Georgetown, there were passed out and puking revelers along the way. One block was a set of clubs where pairs of young women, dressed in very bright colored coats of feathers, handed out fliers. They did not hand them to us, but I did pose next to two women in jackets of yellow feathers in my yellow doc's. [That picture didn't come out! <arghh>]
I'm unsure if prostitution is illegal in Japan. The guidebooks speak openly of "Wonderland's" and coyly explain that one can get a "full body massage." Evidently, they used to be called "Turkish Baths" but the Turkish community protested and the government mandated the name change — which seems more PC than I would've expected. Consequently, it must be partially legal. We got an offer for "penis massages" by someone, of course Daniel joked he'd do it for half the price.
Today was the first day of meetings and was mostly uneventful. Dinner was at a very nice restaurant and consisted of 10 courses! It's hard being a vegetarian and traveling in Asia or Europe — particularly France. However, I pigged out on the U.S. style salad and a Japanese dish of daikon (a large radish).
I'm beginning to feel a little lonely. Masha and I broke up 3 weeks ago, we knew we were going to do it at some point a month before, and it was non-traumatic. There was nothing wrong, no problems, however we both felt there might be something better out there. We've continued to hang out and even have sleep overs, but nothing more than sleeping. In one way, that is definitely good, but in another sense it makes the longing all the more poignant, being close to someone and still caring and being attracted to them, but holding back. I've been in relationships that ended on amiable terms, so amiable, that it was hard to see where/when the relationship had actually ended. It wasn't so bad, but it can make the process during which the other person starts to zero in on someone else difficult.
The past 3 days have been much of the same. Wake up at 8, piddle around in my room, meet others in the lobby, head over to Kyoto Research Park, meeting from 9-5, reception till 9 or 10, then move on elsewhere for more conversation. Then back to the hotel for some channel surfing before falling asleep. The time lag isn't too bad, and I've heard some neat things on late night TV. One night I feel asleep to the local weather channel playing New Order.
Another evening we were walking around a beautiful area of Kyoto, but usually people are so tired they stay with the hotel bars nearby, some of which are very luxurious. Tuesday, I was drinking an $8 orange juice and swapping industry gossip till midnight, but it really isn't anything I couldn't do in the US. I'm looking forward to the end of these meetings.
I guess the highlight of the past 3 days is the Kyoto train station (ichi). In its bowels it is as ugly and loud as a train station is likely to be. However, there are a number of malls, stores and a luxury hotel built above. The architecture is striking. Basically, it is a mess of buildings bridged from above by glass and scaffolding, like a massive constructor set.
It is impressive to look up from the bottom, but it is awesome to take the set of escalators and stairs that ascend into the mass of buildings for over twenty stories and look back. The scaffolding touches the sky and I felt vertigo as I look down 20 floors of terraces. It felt like I was in a massive space station or in a scene from Logan's Run. From the top and windowed catwalks and scaffolding you can see the entire city, and young couples sit in the shadows talking and cuddling with the city floating below.
After my panel a Harvard colleague and I were escorted around parts of the campus to look in on various projects and research. In the evening we went to a reception where there was also a slew of W3C people. Ted Nelson was there (inventor/discoverer of hypertext who doesn't like — or envies the success of — the Web). I didn't speak to him but I spoke to his roaming ego. When I joined in on the conversation the woman was speaking of his brilliance and how he was our age when he was doing his seminal work. Gee, thanks. I figured it was his assistant or worshipful grad student, but I think someone mentioned it was his wife and I joked it'd be nice to have a wife that adored my brilliance like that. "Joe is so brilliant, he was only your age when he did his seminal work and he continues to be ahead of his time." "Thank you dear."
After that reception, we went to another, smaller reception for the panelists and faculty in the University's guesthouse. They had food from some fancy French restaurant which meant I didn't eat much — what I wouldn't do for humus and pita bread! Later that evening I hopped a train to Tokyo. Throughout the evening, and even yesterday, I tried calling Nina, the fem I'd be staying with after my two evenings in the Tokyo Palace Hotel were up.
I knew Nina from email; she's a Japanese English Language Teacher (ELT). In the summer she sent me some enigmatic messages regarding my page on anime as a reflection of the sensitive Japanese man. She said we were somehow connected but had never met, but wouldn't fess up as to how. I didn't press her since the interaction was sharp, and flirty/fun, but I eventually placed her.
Masha and I broke up about a month ago. Masha's ex (Mike) was living in Japan as an English Language Teacher (ELT). In fact, I stumbled upon Masha while Mike was deciding to stay in Japan for an additional year and placing their long distance relationship under strain. I guess Mike had been curious about his ex's new boy and mentioned me and my site to Nina during one of their conversations — it seems that the ELT's are a relatively tight/small community. Nina then wrote me. Mike had also sent me a package from Japan with a small letter and anime writing tablets. I thought it was odd: interacting with my girl's ex, but I figured perhaps he wanted to continue to be Masha's friend and make sure her present boyfriend (me) wasn't hostile. Someone else likened it to him "pissing on the door."
Regardless, Nina wanted some witty stateside exchange to distract her from the end of a relationship, and I obliged. Months later, with an opportunity to go to Japan I wrote Nina and said I might get to take her up on her offer of coffee sooner than expected, and in Tokyo instead of Cambridge. She offered me a place to stay, and I added 3 days to my trip.
I tried calling her throughout the day, but never got an answer, not even a message like I got yesterday. I wracked my brains to remember what I said. I fear I might've said something stupid. So stupid she'd bail and not answer her phone and turn the machine off? I can't have. Anyway, I have till Sunday till I've exhausted my tab at the hotel and I'm homeless.
I called Nina again at 10:30 a.m., no answer. I then headed out to Akihabara, Electric Town. I wandered about for hours looking at the amazing gadgets and settled on one of the minidisk recorders I'd been lusting over for months.
At about 2 p.m. I finally connected with Nina and we decided to meet for dinner at 6. She asked if she could bring Andrew? I silently though who the hell is Andrew, but I couldn't ask since he seemed to be in the room. She wrote me over a month ago about a romantic night on the town she had that helped her break her from her funk of her relationship gone awry. She hadn't mentioned him or a boyfriend since. (But to be fair, I don't think I had mentioned Masha and I had broken up.)
Regardless, I hadn't figured on imposing myself upon a month old "newly wed" relationship. You know, the type where you can't get enough, be it emotional, spiritual, or physical. Uh oh. But I figured I had to go with what I had, she offered me a place to stay after all but I guess my plans of hitting late night clubs together weren't likely.
After more wandering around, I eventually headed back to my hotel to await Nina. The call came at 6:30 p.m. and I headed for the elevator. I was a little nervous, afraid of awkwardness. Not in a big way, but if you tell yourself your not nervous, something must have prompted the denial. I later told Nina I've never been weirded out by a person I knew in email when encountered face-to-face. It's never been exactly what I expected, but if I get along with someone on-line, I do in reality too.
So out I popped from the elevator and my eyes scanned in that hesitant way for the awkward mili-second that always seems longer. Its a vulnerable moment, where my usual social guards and blinders are disengaged. My eyes linger upon strangers in expectation and I feel as if somehow, I'm equally open to analysis and scrutiny. I feel like I'm walking down my high school highway again.
They were in the lobbey, "Hello," "Hi." Did I shake hands? While I've never gotten the creeps when first meeting someone, obviously it's a little awkward in the beginning, and my first prejudicial thought was "yuppies." I don't know what that means... I guess it's a fear of normalcy or conservatism measuring and rejecting me. But everything seemed fine by the time we got to the street.
On the subway, Andrew and Nina were discussing where to eat. They seemed to have a place in mind, but somewhere in the conservation I mentioned I was a veggie and that seemed to require a change of plans. This is probably one of the more annoying parts of travelling. While I get tired of an unending series of cooked, mushy vegetables at receptions and conferences, having one's diet be a conspicuous drag on other peoples' plans is no less tiring.
But they took me to a place called Las Chicas — fabulous! It felt like NYC a little, very international. While there were lots of non-Japanese, it didn't feel like an American bar/ghetto like some of the areas in Hong Kong. There were lots of rooms, some of which had folks spinning vinyl, very cool!
Upstairs, there were a number of smaller rooms, for private parties or whatnot, I couldn't quite figure. In one, there were a bunch of fab drag queens getting ready for the evening. I would've never found it myself; I was quite happy. Nina and Andrew got some drinks while waiting for a table, I tried to use the computer upstairs to check my chickmail account and send an email to Masha. I hadn't brought a computer (I wanted a break) but had been borrowing time on colleagues laptops during the meetings and sending her quick notes. But I couldn't figure out how to turn the Japanese characters off, so I returned to Nina in one of the lounge rooms. The place definitely felt relaxed; a candle, turntable and fireplace sort of place!
I talked to the guy serving drinks about Jungle in Tokyo. He recommended liquid to me and told me he was there last night till 8 a.m. and gave me a flier. Cool, I was set! We got seated shortly and I ate the yummiest food I'd had in a while: bread, tomatoes, cheese, and cranberry juice — all the things I've been craving.
Our waitress was Australian and cool. She saw my liquid flier and said she wanted to go, but it was so expensive, like $30. On the way out I talked to her further and she said she was probably gonna go to a cheaper, more local type of jungle night at Gothic and gave me that flier.
Now I had to decide what I wanted to do for the rest of the evening. It looked like Nina and Andrew were going to head home. I had to decide between the big production at liquid or the smaller one at Gothic and what to do in the mean time.
So into the neon light of Tokyo night we set off. I parted from Nina and Andrew at a station feeling totally at ease with the thought of spending more time with them. Both were very friendly, accessible, and we had good conversations. For the evening, I decided on Gothic: I wanted something more authentic, I might actually know somewhere there (the Australian fem!), and I wanted to see that area anyway.
Shinjuku is a madhouse. Not as crowded as a night in Hong Kong, but it was loud, bright, and crowded in a way that make American cities seem dull. This area is known for its night life, including the seedier side. First I tried to find Gothic so I'd be able to find it when it opened. These Rastafarian dudes, handing out promos for another club, were helpful in a way I rarely find in the States. People in Japan go out of their way to help you, even if they are not Japanese.
With my cardinal point established, I felt free to wander for a couple of hours. This definitely was the seedier side of Japan since many of the bars seemed to offer some sort of sexual service, men would give me fliers and try to convince me to come inside, but I really had no idea what they were offering: topless bars, massage parlors? I think I heard one guy mention again the "penis massage," a hand job?
During my wanderings, on the periphery of the area, I made a turn down a quiet street and soon realized my mistake. The street had women lingering about in long coats that called to me in their saccharine Japanese. Why else would a single man be walking down this street? One fem — though I think she might've been a transvestite — locked on to my arm and seemed to be pleading with me to follow her in quite a forceful way. I had to struggle to force myself from her grip. I felt a mix of shyness, flattery, and alarm.
Once I escaped that street, I figured I had wasted enough time. Time to head on to the club. Unfortunately I had screwed up. Tonight was "Condomania" at Gothic. The Jungle night was next week. I hadn't looked at the date on the flier! It was now midnight and I contemplated going to the other event but I really had no clue where it was. Plus, it was expensive and I was tired and cold. Maybe I could still make it to the subway...?
Unfortunately cops turned me away at the gate and I now had to find a taxi home. I heard it was sometimes hard for foreigners to get taxis at night, but I saw one driver do the most amazing thing and I knew he was my man. On the side of the street a bike had been leaned against a pole but had fallen over and now lay on the sidewalk and curb. The traffic on the street was stopped for a red light and the taxi driver got out of his cab to stand the bike back up properly! I showed him my hotel in my little book and it cost me $30 bucks but I got back by 1 a.m. and crashed.
Sunday morning. The last morning I'll awake in a hotel. Good riddance! I woke up at 9:00 and figured I had to waste some time before calling Nina again. Maybe there were sleeping in from a wild night of sex or something. I wondered if I'd hear them at it while I was staying there, and whether it'd be a good or bad thing — given my present loneliness. Not that I was dwelling on the thought, it was just this latent fear of imposing on the first long weekend of a new romance. Shit.
So I gathered my things, checked out and left my luggage with the concierge. I figured since I was at a hotel over looking the Imperial Palace I might as well see what I could. It wasn't much. Basically, the site was one little bridge surrounded by a massive half a mile lot of small grey pebbles, a crappy driveway of Imperial tourism. Having wasted a couple hours, I returned to the hotel, confirmed directions, and set off for my hour long journey to Shinjuko.
I gave Nina a call when I got to her station and sat and watched people for 15 minutes. For much of the trip I've been puzzled why there were so many schoolgirls in Japan, on weekends particularly. Was this some sort of conspiracy? Through conversation with Nina and others, I learned that they often have classes or independent activities on weekends. Furthermore, the boys change out of their uniforms as soon as possible, whereas the girls like their uniforms because of the whole cutie schoolgirl fetish. Nina later told me girls will go home and change from their required uniforms into even more sexy or prestigious uniforms. Few of the girls wore stockings in this chilly weather, and some had their skirts hitched quite high, but they seemed sensible in that they wore comfy looking white leg warmers. Someone later told me it was merely another fad, and the girls actually had to glue these baggy white socks to their legs!
So I was sitting there wondering about what they thought of having to go to school on Sundays and a Western fem from the other side of the station was approaching. It was Nina of course, who else would it be in this suburb of Tokyo? But it didn't quite register. She looked different, in denim overalls and a huge flannel coat. She looked much more comfy, and I felt it, the yuppie panic was now completed dead.
We set out for her apartment a short walk away. It was different from the city and interesting to see real houses and the bike garages: concrete lots covered by a tent holding 100s of bikes. Turns out, we were running late to meet Nina's ex. Nina had come to Japan with her boy (Daryl) and they had married while over here. However, changes in your environment often create changes on the inside, in your needs and expectations. Evidently, this happened to Nina's husband. They were divorced but friendly.
We had a brunch at a Japanese sort of version of IHOP. I had mentioned my morning walk at the palace and how in one building, I heard the oddest things, smacks, whacks, shouts, and yelps. The only experience I could liken it to was walking down Mass Ave. in Cambridge and passing Hubba-Hubba, the local leather/fetish store. It was late and the curtains were closed, but I guess they were making use of their toys. Nina and Daryl knew the true source of the sounds, not some kinky bondage party on the grounds of the palace but kendo! Kendo is a fencing sport where the two opponents deliver crashing blows with bamboo sticks. Daryl actually practices the martial art and we made plans to watch his practice session in a couple of days.
Afterwards, Nina, Andrew, and myself set out for Tokyo again. I wanted to return to Akihabara to get a new mic for my Minidisc recorder, they went elsewhere. I wasted another afternoon in Electric Town and became proficient in making live recordings of my adventures, which I'd have fun with later. I then made my way back to Nina's, I managed to find her house on my own. Andrew had gone home before I got back and Nina and I decided to relax that night, to go get groceries and rent a movie.
I enjoy grocery shopping with friends in a foreign market. The window to someone's soul can be glimpsed with knowledge of what type of yogurt they buy. (I like fruit on the bottom that you got to mix up. Does this mean I'm a fruit and all mixed up?) The movie store was quite small, but they had a fabulous anime section. As always happens when looking for a movie with a friend, I'd seen about half the movies, Nina the other half.
Over dinner (I had minestrone and bread with cream cheese!) we talked about Japan and culture, specifically about gender roles and sexuality — my favorite topics. The conversation was great and it has always been one of my biggest draws to a person, particularly fems! And of course, cultural discussions are often merely a reflection of the personal and in our cultural/gender discussions Nina was able to name on of my psychoses: masculine emasculation. In a couple past relationships the fems were passive. They were cute and attractive and consequently spoiled from the ever-present attention of suitors and male friends who flirted — and would like to do more. Men made the moves, physical and emotional. Furthermore, this allows fems to deflect vulnerability. They can play the coy, "I'm not saying yes, but I'm not saying no, but you can 'convince' me and if you get hurt in the end because of something I didn't say, its your own fault, cause I never took the lead." If you don't play, they can get attention elsewhere. I think its an unfair position — so much so that it makes me even more timid!
Someone called then, we lost the thread, finished dinner and then settled down to watch Shallow Grave. However, later we resumed our discussion late into the night. I like this girl!
I had the deepest sleep I've yet had in Japan on Nina's reed floor. She has these neat folding mats that are very comfy. Monday is a Holiday in Japan so we slept in. At some point the cat woke me up, but at least it wasn't at 6 a.m., which Nina warned me it might be. He is a real cutie and his favorite game was to be tossed on the sheets or crawl between them when I make the bed. You can see this lump of motion scurrying around under sheets as if he was some sandworm from Dune.
After breakfast, we headed over to Andrews so Nina could give me a copy of her keys that Andrew had so I could come and go as I pleased. All three of us then set out for Tokyo though we had to spend some time looking for an ATM machine (quite rare!). I then headed off for the fashionable area of Harajuku. I originally planned to do some clothes and shoe shopping, but had no luck. My lovely threesome of plastic (no animals harmed!) red, yellow, and green Doc Martin imitations were dying. My favorites, the reds, were completely out of commission. I found some nice blue Doc Martin boots, but none in my size! Unfortunately, I didn't really find anything else and I realized that some of these crazy things these kids were wearing, were not so much cool things cobbled together on the sly, but super expensive retail products! The little sweater with bunny ears, at least $60! hrrmmmph....
But I did have a lot of fun, and wasted a lot of time looking around at the amazing clothes, absolutely beautiful people, outrageous costumes, and interesting stores. I also found a StarBuck's in Harajuku (boo!), and I had pizza in some fast food type place.
I spent a lot of the day recording sounds and interviewing people with my new Minidisc recorder. The thing was so small, it could fit in my front pocket, I had the remote in my hand, a small mic clipped on my courier bag and I walked around recording at pro level quality! Cool! One of my favorite things next to zines are documentary and "real life" radio programs on NPR like This American Life. I interviewed three people: an Italian selling bamboo Didjeridoos who feared I was a spy from immigration [italian-40-22.mp3], a rather caustic ELT girl from Australia [aussie-40-22-s.mp3], and a photographer taking pictures of cuties for a new fashion magazine called Kids Style [kids-style-40-22-s.mp3]. I also captured a Blader-Runnerish mood eminating from the chant of Japanese dumpling truck. [dumplins-40-22-s.mp3] I was on my way to making an audio zine! (Or at least my first attempt at one!) The two first folks basically characterized the nature of most foreigners working in Japan. You sell trinkets and hippie shit on the street (and possibly drugs) or you teach English to highschoolers. I tried to interview people working in shoe stores about this black mid-calf boot phenomenon, but none seemed to speak English.
At around 7, I headed for the station to head home. I edited my recordings on the way back and got back in time to Nina and Andrew sitting down to dinner. I played them my audio diary and was quite pleased with myself! We sat about and chatted for a couple of hours (fun!) but I was exhausted from my day of walking around in the cold and we all went to bed pretty early. Earlier I had recorded some music from Nina on my minidisc for the ride home, and I listened to the Cardigans song Paradise before I fell asleep. That sort of became the theme song of my trip, when I hear it in the future, I'll think of Japan.
Tuesday was a workday for everybody. I was supposed to meet up with Daryl tonight to watch Kendo, and talk to Mike (Masha's ex) at some point in the day. (Sometimes life seems to be filling up with ex's, friends of ex's, ex's of friends and ex's of ex's. I guess it's healthy that people still get along but it seems a bit odd, maybe it's just a function of getting older.) Mike called me at around 11 and said he had a cold, and it merited taking the day off, and since he had the day off, we might as well do something! Since we are both anime fans, we decided to try and see some anime in a theatre, which is nearly impossible in the states. Of course, we had to find a movie guide, and spend most of the day just trying to find one, gave up at some point and ended up walking around and going to the Sony building to look at their nifty new products. Unfortunately, they were doing some sort of tribute to Lauren Hill, and were showing all her material on the demos. Not that I mind her, but VHS quality copy of her videos on high res 3 feet high TVs is stupid. I also got another viewpoint on Japan, and it was Mike that filled me in on the fact that the school girl socks were glued on.
One of the habits of Boston University (BU) folks is to hang over at Delihaus and IHOP. Mike and Masha had gone to BU and yesterday Nina had mentioned when we passed the only IHOP I saw in Japan that it was where Mike hung out. So on the way back, we decided to stop by at the IHOP and I did a silly little interview with him too! Eventually, I landed back at Nina's. I was feeling worn out. I hadn't caught a cold, wasn't terribly lonely or bored, all was well, but I felt like it was time to go home soon so I could digest it all.
Andrew joined us for a pizza dinner and we decided we were too tired for Kendo. Instead, we'd chill. I walked Nina to the video store to return Shallow Grave. The night was cool and calm and I really enjoyed the little walk. The town was so quiet. Back at her place I nodded off, but Nina woke me to tell me she and Andrew were going to play pool. Nina had told me she played in email and I had hoped to go see a Japanese pool hall at some point! I made myself wake up, it was my last night after all, and we headed over. It looked like any other pool hall. I think Nina was the only fem and she said that at first they treated her oddly, then curiously, and finally with respect. We played a couple of games and punched up various tunes on the jukebox. I selected Beastie Boy's Intergalactic. I hadn't played in many years, but years ago I wasted Friday and Saturday nights with my geeky highschool friends in pool halls and I wasn't too bad.
After Nina demonstrated her overwhelming superiority, Andrew headed back to his apartment and Nina and I talked and got ready for bed. Again, we had a hard time pulling ourselves from the conversation though it was late I had to get up sorta early to catch my flight tomorrow.
I'm headed home today! I'm flying east, so I'll leave and get in a couple of hours later! I might even see Masha tonight; I miss her!
Oh, I've just come from the land of the sun
From a war that must be won in the name of truth
With our soldiers so brave, your freedom we will save
With our rifles and grenades and some help from God
I want to see my family, my wife and child waiting for me
I've got to go home, I've been so alone, you see
Nina and I gathered my things and headed out. She took the day off and was going to escort me out to the airport and visit a friend nearby (a westerner) who sold shit on the street. The train ride was beautiful and fitting, for the farther we went out, the more we saw of the countryside. We planned to grab some photos at a Neo-Print machine at the airport, but I was running late and Nina hadn't brought any ID to get through security, so we had to quickly say our good-byes before the annoyed security guard. He was physically agitated by our quick hug. Ironically, I bumped into W3C folks again who were headed back on the same flight. It seemed like a bit of a decompression; I forgot the whole purpose for which I had come! What, W3C, MIT, Harvard, work!? What were they? I'd become pleasantly lost in Nina's world and in my random wandering of Tokyo's streets.
This trip was great. No colds (I seem to catch them when travelling), great people, an amazing country, and lots of sights and sounds to jog me from my routine way of thinking. I also really enjoyed the people: generally friendly and accessible, even if we hadn't a clue of what we were saying to each other. When I got back to America, I had an initial cognitive shock. I couldn't help but think what a diverse, funny looking, and sometimes even ugly group of people American's were! I wonder if the Japanese thought I was that weird looking?!