Departure was
delayed by an hour, so I arrived in Tokyo at about 2:30PM on the
13th (1:30AM, biological time). People at the airport spoke
(speak)
just enough English for me to get by, and I found the baggage
claim without any problem.
On the
shuttle to the baggage claim / ground transportation area, I
stood with my laptop on my shoulder, to my right and my other two
bags at my feet. I looked over after a minute or so, and noticed
that the laptop was crowding a young boy (10?) seated beside me,
so I pulled the laptop in front of me, out of his way. The boy
looked up at me and pulled the laptop back. He was not going to
take "no" for an answer, either, I could see. He would
have been genuinely insulted if I had not allowed myself to
inconvenience him. That would have worked somewhat differently, I
think, in New York!
Upon arrival
at Baggage Claim, I saw my bag just rounding the corner, so I
obtained it and zipped right through customs with no problem and
no baggage check. A quick stop at Currency Exchange yielded
approximately 45,000 yen for $400 ("Hey, I'm rich," I
thought.)
Weather was
in the 80s and rainy. (It continued to be moderately rainy
through Saturday, with buffeting tropical winds. Not
uncomfortable and cold, just wet.)
Route to the
hotel was via shuttle from the airport to Disneyland, then taxi
from there to the hotel, and by the time I was checked in, it was
just after 5PM (4AM biological time). A message awaited me: call
Joongie (with a phone number). So I called him as soon as
possible, and we determined that, given the hour, we would meet
at 11AM the following day. During that period, of course, I made
attempts to figure out how to dial in, but I was not successful.
So I read. And then I slept. And then I read.
Oh! And I ate,
too. Hey, there's an experience. During my Friday evening
excursion, not knowing anything of the area, I grabbed my spear
and went in search of a wooly mammoth or something. The natives
of the area, bowing and looking very apologetic for not
understanding me, eventually directed me to my first true
Japanese dinner. Hey, that's OK... I don't mind sushi - this is
an adventure/experience, right? The first restaurant I found did
not have a point-and-choose menu, so I made my apologies (such as
they were) and found another in the area. The waitress came over,
and I said, "Do you speak English?" "Hi."
"Oh. Hi." [note: "Hi" is "Yes" in
the Asian languages, and though I've known this for some years, I'm
not used to it - yet] I pointed at something that looked OK, and
the waitress said (in that wonderful Japanese accent) : "How
many?" One forefinger. "Only one?!?!" "OK,
make it two." "Two?!?!?" (Well, let's see here...)
"How well do you understand me? I'm sort of hungry, but I
don't want too much. What would be good?" "Hmmmmm."
(They say that a lot here: "hmmm." It comes from the
Japanese word "hmmm," meaning "hmmm." and, I
believe, is their courteous way of saying "what the hell are
you talking about?" When they're really confused, they say,
"HMMMMMmmmmmmmmmmmm!!!" But I digress.) She flipped the
menu a couple of times, pointed and said, "You like
akjfapyfwuiye?" "Yes, that sounds good." "On
lice or noodles?" "[given the choice, what would YOU
pick?] Noodles please." "OakHey! What to dink?"
"Tea, please." (She points to chicken scratches on the
last page.) "Which kind?" (Oh, definitely the middle
one.) "This one here." "OakHey. Velly good. Sankoo."
Serving as
the equivalent of bread and butter in an American restaurant was
a small cake of --- what WAS that? --- tofu, maybe (she called it
toaf), sitting in a thin layer of soy sauce, with a half-pea-sized
helping of hot (no, I mean HOT) mustard beside it and caviar on
top. This is my first caviar experience, and won't be my last, I
think. The meal was excellent, nicely cooked thank you very much,
and very tasty. The waitress kept coming back to refill my middle
tea, and to make sure that everything was still OakHey. I was a
novelty to her, I think, and we had fun with our language barrier;
laughed a lot. She gave me 50% off the price of the meal (hey,
they might always do that - I don't know - but it made me feel
good, anyway).
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
D a y T w
o: 14-Aug, 1999 (Saturday)
At 1:30,
Joongie did call, and we met for lunch. He was delayed due to a
laundry room problem coupled with a language opportunity of his
own. Nice guy, from Manila. He has been here only for 10 days
himself (this is his first trip to Japan also), but he was very
instrumental in helping me find stores and the like. He also
showed me how I could dial in, so that I am now able to send this
message.
I am in
Urayasu, sort of a suburb of Tokyo, so there have not been many
sites to see. The shopping within walking distance of the hotel
is incredible, but I haven't found any real bargains.
Unfortunately, the two full suits that I intended to bring still
hang in my closet, so I suppose that tomorrow I will bite the
bullet and spend ¥25,000 for one of those. (That's the starting
price. Youch!) Thankfully, I do have ties.
My biological
clock refuses to stand down, so I'm finishing this memo at about
1AM local time, Sunday. I cannot currently reach outside of the
Andersen network, even via the WWW (the latter surprised me), and
have as yet found no one to talk with about obtaining an ISP, so
I'm pretty much limited to Notes mail for communication,
presently. But I'm happy and comfortable (personal note: next
time, pack very lightly when traveling to Japan), and though my
timing may be off, I'm getting a lot of reading and sleeping done.
J
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
D a y T h
r e e: 15-Aug, 1999 (Sunday)
The rain
stopped during the night. I was up and down, sleeping and reading,
trying to reset my schedule, until about noon, when hunger got
the better of me. Placing "Bag of Bones" on the
nightstand, I ventured into the shower---oh, I haven't described
the shower!
That room is
a little different from the American variety: the commode and
sink are in an area about nine-by-six feet (or, maybe I should
say, three-by-two meters---but I won't), with a ceiling-to-wall
clear glass separator, the other side of which contains both a
shower and tub, with that enclosure being about nine-by-eight. A
clear glass door pushes open into the shower room. There is no
shower curtain, which was a little unusual to get used to (though
I live alone, I still am used to the added privacy of that
frosted door), and a five-by-eight shower just seems so ---
spacious! Two controls: one sets the temperature, so it'll be
right the next time, and the other turns the water on and off.
There's a "lap of luxury" feeling about it, once I was
past the differences. The glass wall did not fog at all, owing, I
suppose, to the ventilation of the room.
The commode
has controls for temperature of seat, and temperature of *water*
(get that!), though it doesn't seem to be a bidet. I have no idea
(and little curiosity) why that is so, but I thought it worth
mentioning
Anyway, I had
my shower, dressed and met the new-to-me day, which was
delightfully warm and breezy---if I were given to repeating
myself, I'd say it was tropical, but I'm not, so I won't. The
Food Court at the mall just across the street provided all I
needed, and I wandered the stores.
I found a
nice department store that had suits at 30% off (so they say),
and purchased what I thought to be a nice light gray pinstripe
for ¥29,000 (tailoring adds another ¥800). All of this
transaction - beginning to end - was without benefit of anyone
who had a clue what the other was saying. As I stepped into the
little room to try on the suit, I was almost dragged back (it was
verbal, but very impressive) from the door. The man pointed at my
shoes and said, "afkjauiya kjaduyuyqee afkldfiuydwe,"
which is Japanese for "don't go in there with your shoes on,
you idiot", all the while, bowing and being sorry for
troubling me. When I'd selected the suit, and it was marked and
pinned for tailoring, the salesman seemed to ask me to put my
"Nome" in a particular box on an apparent tailoring
order, so I lettered it as neatly as I could. He (with
considerable coaching) then eventually worked out the sound of
the name, and the sound was then hand-scribed into Japanese
symbolism. This is totally contradictory to what I've heard of
Asian languages, but was definitely the case. "Den" (chicken
scratches) "nis" (chicken scratches) "Dennis"
(chicken scratches between), et cetera. Most interesting. That
receipt, I just might frame when I get home, as it was a major
accomplishment in my book.
"Book."
That was my next thought. After marking the store's location on
my GPS (how else will I find it again?), it was time to find a
book that has some common English-to-Japanese phrases in it. (I'd
disappointed a waitress by not speaking the language [I know how
that upsets me, back in the States], and she had had to trade
with another). I want to be able to say "Please" and
"Sankoo" and "Velly good" in their language.
I want to be able to say, "Hello" and "Good bye."
I want to be able to say, "Hey, Baby!" Well, that last
one might not be in the book, and that's probably best. It wouldn't
be good for me to return with little fingerprints on my face. J
I haven't
located a book store yet, but I did find a music store, sectioned,
in plain English, by music styles. "Folk" was
noticeably missing from the placards, I'm afraid. ("Maybe
they just don't know how to spell it?" I have my work cut
out to "civilize the heathens," it seems.) While there,
David Wilcox was playing through my MD player's headphones, so
that was OK. I saw some CDs with names I recognized, and many
that I didn't---most, I had no clue how to sound out, of course.
(Interestingly, the bulk of them looked Asian. I wonder what that
means?) There are CDs, audio tapes, video tapes, MDs, DVDs,
Nintendo cartridges (are those called cartridges?) there for sale.
The DVDs were apparently dual-language or subtitled or (gasp!)
Japanese-only movies, but I saw titles like "Star Wars:
Episode 1," and "Titanic," etc. there, the bulk of
each cover being in the Chicken Scratch language.
Next was
another kind of music store: the kind that sells guitars, drums,
pianos and all the accessories. There were some beautiful Martins
there, and I slyly wiped the drool from my chin as I continued on
to see Ovations, Yamahas and the others. Prices are a little
higher than in the States, though (but the selection is better
than I've seen) so I'm not likely to come home with a planeload
of musical instruments.
The power
here is 100 volt, two-prong (like the old U.S. standard, minus
ten volts)---just workable, if it weren't for that neutral wire (the
third connector) on most UL-listed power jacks nowadays---but
there are adapters for that. I'd borrowed the hotel's adapter for
long enough (for charging my laptop, which had "died"
while I was doing e-mail and journalizing), so I bought a couple
of those jewels (about $2. Maybe I'll get a planeload of them) in
a housewares department. A couple of other odds and ends, then
there was dinner and the walk back toward the hotel. On the way,
a soft bench accommodated me for a while and people-watching
became the order of the day. Everyone here (except me) has a
cellular phone. (Well, that's not accurate. Mine is here too; it
just doesn't work.) Little kids have cellular phones. And
everyone uses them, almost all the time (in the restaurants,
walking down the street, or while paying for their items... doesn't
matter). They never ring (they must vibrate), but you'll see
someone walking down the street, and they'll pick up their (borrowing
from Dave Barry) chiclet-sized phone, and start talking. Kind of
interesting. They never call anyone. I think it's all automatic.
Shoppers Plaza, as the area is named, is fronted by a huge
courtyard on three levels, and people were out enjoying the sunny
day. Then I saw someone with dogs, and I missed my kitties, so I
came back "home" to the old "Bag of Bones" (hmmm....
what's that say about me, living alone?) and read until about 9:00pm,
then I started this day's journal entry. It's now 9:35PM and I'm
somewhat tired on schedule. I just might work this out after all.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
D a y F o
u r: 16-Aug, 1999 (Monday)
I don't like
cultured buttermilk very much. Oh, I know it's supposed to be
good for me, and all of that---I just don't like its taste. See,
yesterday, I wandered into the convenience store that's right
next to the hotel (wonder if that's why they call it convenient?),
and bought milk. The blue one. The one to the far left of the
others, priced at ¥130/500ml rather than those others, in red
and yellow, which cost ¥120 and ¥110, respectively. Brought it
to the hotel… (OK, I admit it, I bought Oreo cookies, too),
and it was GOOD, I tell ya, Really Good. So this morning, at
about 5AM, I wandered into the same store, went to the same shelf
and picked the same blue carton, with the same language barrier
printed on it---and at the same price (I didn't need more cookies,
thank you very much), brought my prize home, opened it, and took
a giant swig of---gee, I'll bet this is gonna surprise you---cultured
buttermilk! I'll have to wander in there wider awake next time,
perhaps. J
5AM, you say,
incredulously. FIVE-A-M!!! Yes, in fact, it gets light here about
4AM (bright by 4:30) and I had the curtains drawn. (It's fairly
dark here now, at 7:15pm.) Actually, it was kind of good that I
woke like that; it gave me a chance to go over the things I
needed to review before starting my first Japanese workday, and I'm
very glad I did. It was your typical Contractor's First Day,
meeting four billion people, learning where the necessary rooms
are, finding out fax numbers, who does what (and to whom)…
like that. Jungie (I had his name spelled wrong before---oops!)
was very helpful in getting me started right away, and feeling
right at home.
I turned in
my first expense report (due today), for a little over half a
million yen. (Yes, it's true. In Japan, the plural of yen is yen,
just as in America the plural of deer is deer, and Southern
dialect the plural of cent is cent.) ¥550,000 and some change.
For a day's work, that doesn't sound bad, no not bad at all! (Of
course, that was due mostly to the cost of the ticket to get me
here, but still!) And they want to direct-deposit my expenses
into a Japanese bank. (Fine with me… a few hundred thou in a
foreign bank account. Where do I sign?) I can pick any bank I
like as long as it's the Tokyo-Mitsubishi. OK, that's not really
fair. I can choose any bank I like, but the others want other IDs
than a passport (immigration papers, visa [not the credit card],
and the like), which I do not have – and this one doesn't
require all that. (Side note: It's a little disheartening, isn't
it, to realize that that's really about $4,900, that I owe most
of that to Diner's club for my little joy ride, and finally that
the rest will have to hold me [food/laundry/misc] until September
16? Why don't I see any tears? Why do I hear no violins?)
On the same
lines, glancing through the little "Tokyo Tips"
brochure which was part of an initiation packet presented by my
employer, I found an interesting fact. I've been quite aware of
the fact that, at least within the past few years, Japan held
some of the wealthiest people in the world. That may not be so
anymore, I don't keep up with such things, but I was surprised to
learn that Japan is _also_ a cash-based society. Here, I figured,
by my American ruler, all that wealth was probably dispensed by
pen on check, and that's apparently not the case at all. These
people pay cash! Of course, I had some idea that was true, having
done a fair share of window shopping already---and was painfully
aware something was up when I had to pay almost 30,000 cash for a
suit---but never once did the thought occur that it was basically
"The Way." Oh well, it was interesting when I read it.
Mileage may vary after some use.
Work was OK.
A few meetings, lots of running around, orienting myself,
figuring out phone numbers and the like. In at 8:00; out at 18:30.
(They don't do "AM" and "PM" here. Not really.)
Not much to report, except that I've been allocated to ten
projects, between which I will divide ten per cent of my time,
each. (Is it me, or does that sound like a little prioritization
and project scoping may be in order?)
In Tokyo Tips, I
also found out how to decipher some Kanji (a.k.a. chicken
scratches, a.k.a. language barrier), including the numbering
system. Pretty cute. Here's some of that:
| |
1 |
ichi (itchy
because you want more?) |
| |
|
ni (Next to nothing?) |
| |
3 |
san (what you can
buy a palmful of for that many yen) |
| |
4 |
shi ("shee,
is that all?") |
| |
5 |
go (need I say more?) |
| |
6 |
roku (We will, we will...) |
| |
7 |
nana (hey, hey, kiss him goodbye) |
| |
8 |
hachi ("God bless you.") |
| |
9 |
kyu ("c'you
loan me some more?") |
| |
10 |
ju ("ju jus doan get it, do ju") |
So, finally, I
know the meaning of "Sankoo." It's 3+9, or twelve. And
here I thought they were being polite! J I
already had learned 7, though. Having four 7s in my phone number
at the hotel, the guy who sold me the suit yesterday, as he was
transcribing my receipt said (meaning to be silent, I'm sure),
"nana nana nana nana," making me grin. Thought that was
cute.
This is
interesting, too, though only the final one makes sense to me:
| |
East |
higashi |
| |
West |
nishi |
| |
North |
kita |
| |
South |
minami Everybody knows where Miami
is, don't they? |
So the work
place is one block minami and about twelve nishi. Huh.
Tomorrow I'll do
my civic duty and open an account with Tokyo-carmaker Bank (where
I'll also learn the proper pronunciation of zero---probably
"nut'in"), then I'll sign up with an ISP –
probably Global Online Japan (http://www.gol.com/index_e.html
according to Tokyo Tips – I
can't go there) . Price isn't too bad, with unlimited usage, a
local phone number, and several other features I'll probably
never use. I first called AT&T WorldNet Japan (included in my
AT&T Personal Network fees, I'm supposed to have an account
with U.S. AT&T WorldNet, but never got the packet), and found
that they are operated as separate businesses. I hope to get that
straightened out tomorrow, too. Maybe I won't have to pay at all
for an ISP. Maybe, but I'm still breathing regularly.
Not much else to
report. I'm kind of tired, and my book wants to be finished
tonight, so I think I'll hit it early.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
D a y F i
v e: 17-Aug, 1999 (Tuesday)
I thought it
was an American thing. I really did. I've always been amazed, for
example, by book titles such as "Gardening Self Taught (Expert
Edition)." "Oxymorons are an American phenomenon,"
I thought. "This couldn't happen somewhere else," I
thought. But that's not the case, not at all. This evening, a
lost little gray duck was browsing through the bookstore,
questing for a barrier removal device, and his eyes beheld a
title: "First Lessons in Japanese: Advanced Edition." I
felt _somewhat_ better, seeing that the title to its left was
simply "First Lessons in Japanese," but still! (Of
course, when you take into account that this _is_ an American
title, aimed at Americans [or at least English-speakin' folk],
perhaps it wasn't so amazing after all.) But I did laugh out loud.
Then I opened the first book, flipped a few pages, and said,
"Sumimasen" (excuse me) and someone bowed and giggled,
so I figured it was one I had to have.
It was an
adventure, finding that book. My pre- (mis-) conception that
"everybody's taught English, at least as a second language"
has been horribly misdirected all this time. Or maybe they just
don't remember, like I don't remember what it was that Gingus
Kahn was so upset about. Or what the name of that blinking star
to the left of the North Pole is. Like that. Anyway, when I don't
have a translator at my disposal (which is about 90% of the time),
and sometimes when I do, I've just been totally and completely
lost. I tried to send a fax today. Walked right up to the fax
machine, number in hand, and stared at a bunch of Language
Barriers printed all over the dang thing. Thank heavens the
dialpad was like the old familiar telephone, with the old
familiar Arabic digits on it! So I dialed my number placed the
paper in the machine ("which side up, I wonder?"), and
waited. Nothin'. No dial tone, no error tone. Nothin'. The little
LCD display was cursing me in blink mode, and there was a pair of
buttons marked "Yes" and "No," so I pressed
"No." It blinked more rapidly, and had a lot of four-scratch-characters
on it.
I looked
around at this room full of people (about fifty to seventy in
that area), and wandered up to a few of them (thinking how I'd
feel if someone came up to me and squawked some gibberish at me:
"Learn the language, Idiot!"), and did try to get help
from a few people who haven't quite mastered the act of looking
stupid as well as I have, but there was no help for it. So,
dejected, I returned to my desk, the fax placed at the bottom of
my papers-of-attention for some other time. "Learn the
language, Idiot." Yeah. I've thought it many, many times. I
hope I don't think it about anyone else in the future.
Work was fun.
I fiddled my way through manufacturing some creative
documentation using a Kanji keyboard (which has about as many
keys as the American variety, but each has about five symbols on
it, and only one of those is from the alphabet I was looking for)
of the terminal assigned to me. There are three kinds of Kanji
"shift mode" keys (four, counting the pair I'm used to),
and each of them has three modes, and the power to stifle even
the most imaginative of minds (or so I've heard). But I got the
knack of it and eventually fumbled my way through some pages.
At lunchtime,
I went (with my new friends, thankfully) to the mall's food court,
and was led to a wonderful Indian restaurant. I haven't mentioned
how eclectic this area is. They have the best selection of
international foods I ever recall seeing, and I haven't had a
less-that-damgood meal yet. This was my first curry (should that
be capitalized?) meal. The Indian words for lamb and chicken have
gone the way of the name of that twinkling star, leaving behind
only "yummy." With unleavened bread, rice, and two
kinds of curry dip (I suppose it's a dip - that's how everyone
seemed to be using it), I was pleasantly surprised. They don't
seem to be able to make spoons and forks the right size, here,
though (and this place didn't have chopsticks). That's sort of
interesting. When you buy yogurt, they give you a spoon that
might not support the bulk of two peas at the same time (not
exaggerating at all), and when you order soup or curry, the
implements won't quite fit into even _my_ big mouth. I'm having
fun with this adventure, I really am, and my eyes are opening
wider all the time.
My eyes
opened widely, for example, as I was walking, alone, to the bank
for my next lesson in why I should "learn the language,
Idiot." I didn't know they MADE legs that long, but there
they were, right in front of me, and the owner must have been
proud of every inch of 'em, cause she didn't want any part hidden.
Amazing.
But that's
not really what I meant about "open eyes." (Yeah, right.)
No, really. I've become so aware of my own misconceptions about
so many things, or things I take for granted, and in such a short
time. This trip is educating me on more levels than I'd imagined
(all of them safe to talk about, thank you very much).
The weather
here is to my liking: hot (78F right now, with the sun having
gone down just under four hours ago. So thankfully I got my
tongue rolled back into my mouth before it hit the hot pavement,
then I entered the bank. I was all set: had my passport, lots of
ID, the FAX that AC provided me with all of the information for
the bank - in English and in Japanese - everything I needed. And
since I had already been informed that this bank was particularly
American-friendly (and since all my newfound friends acquired
accounts here, apparently with no problems), there was no
nervousness at all. I approached the outer teller lady (I suppose),
and presented her with my documentation. She pointed over to a
table - you know, like a deposit slip table at an American bank.
Complete with all the various forms you might find at NationsBank,
plus (I'm sure) some magazine subscription forms, donate-an-important-organ-now-for-free
forms, etc... all in Japanese. Only. Oops.
So I compared
the helpful hints (thankfully, AC had provided a few... "This
symbol means 'checking,' this one means 'savings,' this means 'name...'"
[you get the idea]), but they didn't look at all alike. I once
was in Lake Erie, having ... umm ... exercised too hard
beforehand, and was not going to make it to the shore. It was a
fundamental fact, like it or not: I was NOT going to make it to
the shore. That shore looked like it was miles away, and getting
further, by the time I was salvaged by a jet-ski driver with a
life raft. Unfortunately, there were no jet-ski riders within
viewing (or hearing, thank God) distance of the bank, and I was
sinking fast. Thankfully, our outer teller lady came back to see
how I was doing, and saw that I was staring at the forms, water
about ear level or so. She didn't speak any English, so she went
in and talked to the God of the Bank (I suppose), then came out
armed with knowledge. First, the forms the bank used were written
in native Japanese Katakana, while the forms I had were Kanji (there's
an effort to move the Asian languages to Kanji, like the effort
to move Americans to the metric system, with the same apparent
success - nothing fits and nobody knows why). She did know some
Kanji, and helped me muddle through the form selection, and the
filling-out process. Aside from the fact that I had to write my
name (Dennis Earl Lovelady) in a space between
here ---> <--- and here, an 8-digit phone number in the
same amount of space, and a full 4-line address in a space about
50% larger than that, I guess I made out OK, because they gave me
a booklet with Daisy Duck printed all over it, and accepted my ¥10,000
donation without complaint. Inside that booklet, thankfully, is a
record of my donation, with a seal next to it, so I'm sure it
MUST be OK. Right?
If you were
wondering whatever possessed me to be in that particular
bookstore on this particular night, you're hopefully wondering no
longer.
The rest of
the day was smoother. The guys and gals are fun to work with (I'll
have to count 'em... there must be about 200 of us in a huge
workspace), and the beginnings of what they want from me are
becoming clearer. By the time I'd left work, had a meal, and
found a couple of books, the store that has my suit had closed.
The mall stays open until at least 9PM (I haven't been there past
8:45, actually), but that store does not. Tomorrow, I will go at
lunchtime.
Oh. Tomorrow.
Just When You Thought It Was Safe To Convert To A New Time Zone
Halfway Across The World (scary music begins to ramp in the
background)... I'll go into the office at 8am for a short meeting,
then return to the hotel - to return at 9pm for a fun-filled
session of performance monitoring. Rogers (from Great Britain)
and I will be conducting the tests during the nightly batch
schedule. It's his last chance to do it - he's headed home, onto
the next project, on Thursday. But it'll be a fun day because he,
Paul and I are planning to go watch the last-place baseball team
squash the next-to-last team on the field. It's true I'm not much
of a sports lover, but I am interested in seeing this, mostly
because I've heard before (and again quite recently) that
Japanese baseball isn't like the variety I know. So it sounds
fascinating. And I'm missing my kitties a lot. so I could use a
dog and a beer.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
D a y S i
x: 18-Aug, 1999 (Wednesday)
A blur is
what you see when you're standing next to a train running full-speed-ahead
on the tracks that lie five feet in front of you. A blur is the
result of a camera that was out of focus when that "perfect
shot" was snapped. A blur is also the imperfect recollection
of a day that you've pushed your body, spirit and mind beyond
that "unt-uh, I ain't a goin'" point. Wednesday is now
an out of focus picture of that train speeding by in my immediate
frontal vision as the wind whips the mind and the Doppler effect
surrealistically speaks of what is going by.
The day
started typically enough: as planned, I got up at 6, put in a few
hours in the morning, then relaxed for a while, waiting for the
appointed time to head for the baseball game. That was my first
venture into Tokyo proper (about an hour's train ride from where
I've been staying).
Thankfully,
three other guys were going along (I'm not a big sports fan...
would probably have stayed "home" if not encouraged),
and they've been here long enough to understand the rail system.
In fact, these three actually make this commute daily, having
chosen to live "where the action is," as they say,
while they're here. So, we whisked through the Shin-Urayasu
station, climbed an escalator, turned left and right (not
necessarily in that order), boarded a train just in time to be
catapulted to Shin-Kiba station, where we went down some
escalators, took some turns, down more escalators to a subway,
and were hurdled to downtown Tokyo. About an hour, yes. Before
each boarding, I'd hand the designated fee to one of "the
boys" (as they have been come to be known at the project),
and he'd purchase my ticket from a vending-machine-contraption.
It all went by so fast, or maybe I'm just too overwhelmed, or too
old, or too both (probably) to keep up with it all. Not to worry:
"the boys" had it under control. And they did. The trip
was smooth and easy, we found the domed stadium (baseball indoors?)
without a hitch, and made our entry in to watch the game at the
bottom of the first inning.
This
particular game was the area's #2 team (Toledo Fighters -
Visitors) vs. the last-place team (Chiba Marines - Home). The
actual game didn't seem that different to me, except that they
don't fiddle around for twenty-five minutes between pitches, and
I didn't notice anyone checking to see if his "manhood"
was intact, not even once. Nine innings, three strikes, four
balls, three outs... pretty much the same game I remember not
watching at home. They sang "Take Me Out to The Ballgame,"
or whatever that song's title is in the middle of the sixth (I'm
told it's done in the 7th back where I come from. Didn't know
that). There was a sort of "halftime show" after the 7th
(cheerleaders dancing on the playing field, to the tune of Y-M-C-A)
- fun to watch, and (apparently) also typical. Advertising signs
were of the chicken-scratch variety (mostly). Ball speeds (around
115KPH) (has anyone ever bothered to count the number of
parentheses I put into these journal entries?) were measured in
metrics rather than the MPH that "we" use... but other
than that, you get the idea.
The audience,
however, was a different scene altogether! Attendance wasn't all
that great, owing (I'm told) mostly to the last-place stigma...
there were probably a little over a thousand people in a stadium
that seats 55,000 (both my estimates). But that didn't matter,
these folks were PUMPED! They really, REALLY seem to love this
game. There were two main cheering sections (one for each team),
seated (to capacity) in the left (Home) and right (Guess)
outfield bleachers. (Outfield is considered "the place to be"
by the natives here. Home plate seats aren't sought after at all,
and where we were [near third base] was somewhere in the middle
of the Richter-Preference scale. But I digress.) These cheering
sections (both, but especially Home) stood up during almost the
whole game (makes me wonder why they put those seats there,
really), root root rooting for their guys. It didn't matter what
was going on, who was up, whether the pitch was good or bad, if
the batter missed or hit a home run... they'd just seem to roar
their support at random intervals. People are funny. I mentioned
that the game was typical, and I'm no Dizzy Dean, so I'll skip
the play-by-play. You're welcome.
Now, keep in
mind that this game must have started around 6:15, and was over
about 9:30. That whole time -- that WHOLE DANG TIME (except for
those special times I described above), the Home supporters
repeated the same chant, to the same all-too-short song over and
over and over and over again, from the time we got there until
the time the game was over (Fighters over Marines, 7-3). And this
is one of those songs where hand claps (in a Rat-a-tat Tat-tat
Rat-a-tat [break, break] Rat-a-tat Tat-tat Rat-a-tat) beat are
required ingredients. Everyone on that side --- on OUR side ---
of the division felt the need to participate on that part. Well,
everyone but "the boys" and me, that is. In our
immediate vicinity, though, the hand clapping was substituted
with banging with any available tool on the seats in the vicinity.
Oh joy. Three hours of that, and you don't wonder anymore why
this is the last place team! I was still hearing that beat well
into the night.
I'm glad I
went, though; don't get me wrong. Glad mostly because now I'll
know that next time, "No, Sankoo" is the appropriate
answer, but glad too because (annoyance aside) it was fun to see
so many people having so much fun watching those guys try to
overcome a defenseless little white ball. Did I mention yet that
I'm not much of a sports fan, or is this where I should do that?
Oh. So solly.
On the trip
"home," we were still in a rush (had a night's work
ahead of us), but "the boys" introduced me to the main
Tokyo train station: "the largest in the world," they
said. Grand Central Station in NYC is nothing, compared to this
place. It's absolutely huge. We took a different route home (Rioji,
token native of "the boys," has a gal-friend, who had
joined us for the festivities, and we saw her to her home area),
but it didn't seem to matter much... we (Ryoji, Rogers and me)
were back at Shin-Urayasu and on our way to work in about an hour,
at 10:30.
Our purpose
was to gather performance measurements during the nightly batch
run, which was to begin at 11:00. At 11:30, we were told it would
be run at 1:00, then at 1:00, we were told "before 2:00 for
sure." At the game, I'd had only a single hot dog for dinner,
so before the batch did start (at 2:47:53, thank you very much),
we headed off to the local grocery for some food. It was at the
store that I began to notice that that train whipping past was a
bit of a blur. Not because it was so late, or not ONLY because...
but also because I opened my wallet to pay for the meal... and
the cupboard was bare. It hadn't been; I'd broken a ¥10,000 bill
(one of two that I had with me) for the ¥3,000 ticket price, and
paid about ¥200 for the 'dog,' but it sure was now, and that was
about it. A quick scan of my pockets, and that train seemed to
speed up even more and pull me in closer, ole Doppler singing
some blues song about wishin' he was in da land of cott'n. I was
bailed out, of course, by Rogers (to whom I am eternally grateful),
and that was some comfort, but that sort of dread is hard to
overcome when you're half a world away from home (or 6,881 miles
as the crow digs straight through the core... maybe 12,000 and
some change if you do it conventionally) and don't speak the
language. Anyway, we gathered meaningful statistics until past 5:30
when I left to get some sleep but the others continued on. I'd
watched a beautiful 4:15 sunrise, perhaps the most beautiful I'd
ever seen: the sun coming up over Tokyo Bay. Amazing. At least
the day wasn't a TOTAL loss.
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D a y S e
v e n: 19-Aug, 1999 (Thursday)
Back to work
at 10:00 for an 11:00 meeting, and to make arrangements for an
emergency advance from back home, which Andersen was most
gracious about, and then an exhaustion break at 3:00, finally
back to work at 5:00PM to accompany "the boys" back to
Tokyo for what I had to do there. But when I arrived, I learned
that they wouldn't be able to come along... there were things
they needed to wrap up tonight, and it was going to be another
couple of hours at least before they could finish. They felt bad,
but gave me maps, instructions, phone numbers and the like, and I
went out on my own (something I should have done long before now,
but just hadn't).
So I faced
the train, the subway, and the town. I learned how quickly we can
learn when we're forced, and surprised myself by not being too
daunted by total lack of English instruction on some of the signs.
I used some of the Japanese phrases I've taught myself for
minimal conversation, marked the map at each stop, and flawlessly
went through the system. (Well, almost flawlessly... I hadn't
paid attention on the previous day's journey, so was surprised to
learn that there are actually four escalators leading to four
different "lines," and was very dismayed that there was
NO English directing me to the "right one." But I got
through that with only one hitch, and made it through the next
one with guidance from a native.)
I got to see
our Tokyo office. Nice place, nice people. They _all_ speak
English as a second language, and were ultra friendly, enjoying
meeting a stateside "brother." I took care of my
business, had a great meal (Chinese: Sweet/Sour Pork), and found
my way back to the hotel: an experienced traveler. Now I'm not so
daunted as I was, not so full of dread at the idea of wandering
the strange land of the Wilcox-unaware, and much more comfortable
with my status than I had been since arrival. Yes, I needed that
trip, to set me straight on the fact that none of this is
insurmountable.
I've been
offered an opportunity to learn the language at University, which
is just a few blocks from my daily workplace, and I think I might
do that. I haven't decided, though, because I don't know the
schedule (and it's not why I was sent), but if I have the time
and it doesn't interfere, I'll do it.
Sorry these
two days' journal entries weren't in total good humor... account
it to recent events that I'll laugh about someday when I'm safe
at home. I've tried to keep it somewhat light in spite of ...
well, you know, and it ends happily. And let's face it: they can't
all be good days, although some good can be found in each. I'm
smiling, I'm comfy, and tomorrow's supposed to be a normal
workday. Hey, that sounds pretty inviting to me.
I do miss the
kitties, though. Little do they know that the person who makes
regular visits to ensure they're fed and that the house is safe,
also does e-mail. So far, no "interesting" stories, and
that's the best news of all!
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D a y E i
g h t: 20-Aug, 1999 (Friday)
SPECIAL
NOTE TO E-MAIL READERS: I'm having a lot of difficulty sending
and receiving mail through my work account, so the timing of the
preparation of these journals vs. the time they are actually sent
can vary WILDLY. Sorry for the inconsistency. I've acquired an
ISP now, so am doing my personal mail through that account.
The hotel
room is thought of as "home." The excellent (albeit
pricey) food of the area becomes "standard fare."
"I don't know, what're you gonna do?" sneaks into those
about-to-leave-work conversations. Chicken-scratch signs, somehow,
don't look so foreign anymore. It's no longer a novelty to see
cars driving on the left hand side of the road, and crossing the
street is consequently no longer dangerous. These things only
happen with a settling-in process.
One week has
now passed for me in this "strange land," and it just
doesn't seem so strange. Oh, sure, it's still oh-so-fascinating
to be here: there are so many things yet to see, yet to do. But
it's easier now to embark, to reach out, to venture beyond the
known area and see what the place has to offer.
Work was...
well, work. There seems to be some confusion about where efforts
should be concentrated, but accomplishments are being made, and I
suppose that's what matters. Spirits were high all around, maybe
because it was Friday, or maybe because of the planned going-away
party for "the boys."
Fast forward
to 6:30. Everyone was preparing to leave. Jungie and I planned to
drop off our laptops at the hotel, so we were given explicit
directions (train routes and all) for meeting "the boys"
in front of Starbucks Coffee shop at a particular intersection.
With drawn and notated maps in hand, we went our separate ways,
to meet in two hours.
Jungie is a
great guy. He seems to enjoy having a fellow manager to talk to (and
God knows I'm grateful for *his* presence), and we learned a lot
about one another and our respective homelands (his is Manila,
not Malaise as I had previously thought) while we made our way to
the hotel rooms, then met in twenty minutes to venture toward our
evening out.
It was
clockwork. J.R. Line to Shin-Kiba, then Yokamocho subway to
Akasaka, out exit 5, turn right onto the sidewalk, down a couple
of blocks to the stoplight, cross, turn right, in front of the
something hotel, where Starbucks is. Right on time. Except there's
no Starbucks there. Uh oh. No panic, though, this is a hotel.
They're used to Western people asking for directions. Right? Well...
"Starbucks"
is a word they recognize. "Lost," too. as in,
Me: "Can you tell me where Starbucks is?"
Guy: "Coaffie shop?"
Me: "Hai. Starbuck's coffee shop."
Guy: "You rost. No Stawbucks. I can to say 'I don't
undelstand.'"
Me: (I'm proud of you.) "Uh oh."
But
thankfully, an American walked in about that time, and we were
told that the nearest Starbucks was about fifteen blocks from
there... and given GREAT instructions that led us right to it. Of
course, we were on our own by then, as we knew we would be, but
we were the downtown, (apparently) never-sleeps section of Tokyo,
so we took advantage of the situation, and saw some of the night
life. A great restaurant with surprisingly low prices (about $8
for a big Japanese meal, wonderfully prepared -- which is about
what I'd typically pay for lunch) was the first order of business.
Then, we wandered into a casino. To look, though, not to play.
Playing would
have been an interesting exercise. The atmosphere was akin to Las
Vegas, but the machines were... weird! There was one section
where they had what must have been the equivalent of slot
machines, and a guy was collecting an apparent jackpot from one
of those. The machine was dinging and playing music, with tons of
flashing lights going, basically, it seemed announcing how
wonderful and generous it was. The "jackpot" consisted
of metal ball bearings that were falling into rows and rows of
ramps, eventually ending up in a bucket positioned at the bottom.
The bucket (like a child's sand bucket for the beach, rather
small) was about to overflow, and Jungie and I marvelled at how
much that guy must have just won. Then we wandered in a little
deeper, and there were three guys (hmmm... just realized I don't
think there were any women in there. hmmm....) who had, below
their chairs, stacks and stacks of crates of those little ball
bearings. The crates were about a cubic foot each, and were each
overflowing. If I've ever seen a million of anything, I was
looking at a million ball bearings, easily. Huh. (That's the
literal translation of what I said, though I said it in Japanese,
like this: "Huh.")
After leaving
the casino, we walked around a bit, and were asked (by a couple
of micro-mini there's-no-secret-here skirts wrapped around female-types---I
swear it was the skirts talking) if they could "come along."
"May we come along?" in that imperfect English that
these folks speak so well. Not today. As I said, we were there to
look, not to play.
Anyway, we
headed back toward the train, me in the lead because Jungie
admitted to having no sense of direction. "I know where we
are," I said. "Should be about three blocks that way,
then left about eight blocks." And I was right. Amazing.
Except that it was three blocks the other way, then right about
nine blocks, but I had the numbers about right. We saw a little
of Tokyo. J
At the
station, it was an easy journey back "home," and we
separated, to meet again Saturday about noon.
We'll go see
a temple that's special to Jungie (he's a Mason, and this is one
of those special places that I don't claim to understand), and (my
idea) then go to the area where all the fancy electronic gadgets
are sold. I'm told that if it's electronic, it's in that area.
Things that can't be obtained anywhere else, can be obtained
there. Mmm, heaven. I hope to have a lot to journalize by the
time I get back.
In
the Stories I Forgot to Tell department:
We (Rogers
and I) were headed for the baseball game, sitting comfortably in
our seats. At one stop, a lady (maybe 50 years old) got on, and
having no more seats available, stood before Rogers, holding the
handrail. Rogers did the noble thing: rose to offer her his seat.
She refused to take the seat, and Rogers eventually relented.
Then, she started practicing the few words that she knew in
English, laughing almost hysterically, with random phrases like
"Herro!" "Nice to see you." "Have a nice
day." "So solly." "Nice day, isn't it?"
Like that. It was funny. She was having a ball (and was quite
pleased with herself), and we had fun too. When the train came to
her stop, she waived and said, "Sai-a-nala," nearly
doubled over with laughter, and exited the train. Maybe you had
to be there, but it was great for me.
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D a y N i
n e: 21-Aug, 1999 (Saturday)
The Eiffel
Tower, in Paris, France. Have you seen it? Been in it? I don't
know if this is an EXACT replica, or just a reasonable facsimile,
but the Tokyo Tower looks amazingly similar to the Eiffel. It's
actually the highest self-supporting iron structure, standing 333
meters tall (right at 1,000 feet, which is 13 meters higher than
Eiffel). It's an awesome structure, and beautiful from an
aesthetic and an architectural point of view. Upon first site, I
practiced my Japanese "wow!," and was pretty pleased
that it came out sounding just right (which means that it sounds
exactly the same in any language, like "Oh" does). Hey,
I gotta start somewhere, right?
Actually, though, I'm picking up a few of the phrases, like
"Arigazoo Gozaimus" (thank you) and the equivalents for
"good morning," "good afternoon," "good
evening," "excuse me" (which is the same as "I'm
sorry"), etc. Enough to be polite, anyway. And being polite
in Japan is like being wet in the ocean: if you aren't the one,
you shouldn't be the other. This is the most polite society of
people I have ever seen. The flip side of that, of course, is
that it's easy to be insulting unawares. Like when you offer a
seat to someone (like that lady from yesterday's addendum) who
doesn't consider him/herself so old to have to sit. Don't leave a
tip for the waitstaff or bell persons either (it implies that
there's some sign that they are in need of money). Don't eat -
not even a candy bar - while you're walking. Live and learn.
Anyway, I was going to talk about the Tokyo Tower. It's about a
block away from the Mason's Lodge, where Jungie wished to go, and
of course it dominates the area. 8,000,000 pounds of steel coated
with 140 drums of orange and white (per aviation safety
regulations) paint, it stood out beautifully rather than gaudily
against the brilliant blue sky. For about $8, an elevator will
put you onto the "special observatory," which is about
750 feet up, and from that vantage point all of Tokyo can be seen,
as well as the far distant Mt. Fuji. Walking around the
observatory, the immensity of Tokyo finally was finally brought
home. Standing, according to the GPS, 2.4 miles from the center
of Tokyo, the metropolis seems not to cease before the horizon's
end, even from that height. That is, except that there weren't
any buildings standing on Tokyo Bay - or at least not yet - nor
on the beautiful Yokohama Bay Bridge. :~) We stood amazed,
looking at the vast city from every direction until Jungie's mind
was boggled. (Mine, remember, was boggled last Friday, and has
continued unheeded down that path ever since. Some would argue
that that state began for me much, much earlier. But I digress.)
Having consumed the view of four gazillion buildings, we wandered
off to the tourist trap area of the observatory to look for
souvenirs. I found a nice tapestry which depicts the tower, the
bridge and bay, some of the city, with Mt. Fuji in the background.
Then, we were off to the subway for the excursion to (yes!)
"Electric City."
The place is lit up like Las Vegas (only moreso), and I've never
seen so many gadgets in my life. And, oh, how I love gadgets!
There was so much cool stuff! Like personal DVD players with LCD
screens that'd put our best televisions to shame; every brand,
type, and style of MD, CD, VCR, stereo, camcorder, digital and
film camera known to man (and some, I'm sure, known only to women);
TVs, appliances, binoculars, telescopes, and the list goes on and
on. (You'll thank me for not naming brands and models, I'm sure.
I think you get the idea.) Prices were somewhat better than in
the States (for those items that I've actually seen there),
significantly so in some cases. We wandered the place, goggling,
oohing, and awing until they closed (8PM), and I congratulated
myself for having restrained myself completely. (I must have been
REALLY tired.)
Dinner was at a Chinese restaurant, was excellent and inexpensive.
I'm still waiting for the other shoe to fall on that "inexpensive"
issue... I've been told that eating here is terribly expensive
but, thankfully, I've not seen evidence of that in any gross
sense. Tired (beat, really), we headed back home, I stopped at
the convenience store for tomorrow's breakfast, and now have
settled in for the evening.
In short (why does "in short" always follow a long
story? There must be a rule somewhere. It'd probably be called
"Dennis' rule of getting-past-the-boring-stuff-but-not-till-it's-all-said-and-done"
or some such. Or maybe not...) (Where was I? Oh!) IN SHORT, it
was another fun day of new experiences, and constant gratitude
for the opportunity to be here.
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D a y T e
n: 22-Aug, 1999 (Sunday)
Took it easy
today, limiting myself to an excursion back to Electric City for
speakers for my MD player. Now I can start educating the
locals as to how music is supposed to sound. J
Re-reading
yesterday's entry, I feel that I didn't do Electric City justice.
This is actually an entire town, a fairly large town called
Akihabara, rather than, say, something like Circuit City and its
ilk. Literally hundreds of stores there specialize on the
gadgetry that I love so. And, as it turns out, my visit on
Saturday didn't even scratch the surface. Be still, mine
heart. J I'd stuck to the block that
surrounds the train station on my first visit, but this city has
depth and breadth that is amazing. The stores are five and
six stories tall, with floors in each designated for some
specialty category (e.g. a floor in this store for digital
cameras, a floor in that one for MD players,etc.) My
speakers were purchased at a duty-free store (Laox, I think it's
spelled), and the receipt was stapled to my passport paperwork.
Cool.
The transit
system, too, deserves a lot more attention than I have given it.
Words fail me (gasp!) at this late hour (11:30pm), so I'll
promise to devote a future chapter on it, and for now, just say
that it is wonderfully designed, but highly complex to the
uninitiated. I'll also say that I'm not as initiated as I
thought. J
I've decided
that I must ride the Bullet Train past Mt. Fuji at some point...
and see some of the beautiful rural and unpopulated regions.
The photographs make it look very enticing indeed.
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D a y E l
e v e n: 23-Aug, 1999 (Monday)
This journal
entry was written on 24 August because on Monday after dinner, I
came home tired. Really tired. Hit the bed early, and awakened to
the alarm clock. I'd been beating the alarm clock, usually, by at
least an hour, and (except for a stiff neck from having slept too
soundly on a too-big pillow) my body is grateful. The big event
of that day, was that I returned to the Dreaded Bank for my ATM
card. Short summary: I'm glad that's behind me. J The card is cool, though: holographic (the
whole front), with a few of the 101 Dalmations on the front.
Nicely done, and it'll be a nice keepsake.
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D a y T w
e l v e: 24-Aug, 1999 (Tuesday)
It's fun to
go back to where you really messed up, and demonstrate what you've
learned "since then." That is, assuming anything has,
in fact, been learned. And I've learned a lot. Tonight, I went
back to that place where I had my first meal in Japan, and the
same waitress ("the sankoo girl") was pleased that I
could now do some ordering in her language, identify some of the
food, etc. It was fun. And she taught me "you're welcome"
(ari shaimo se), a phrase that has been missing from every "language
instruction" reference I've found. So, it's good.
I ordered too much, though. That menu is very misleading (remember
the "only one?" bit from Day 1?), perhaps magical.
Everything is pictured on the menu, and I pointed at the things I
wanted. Ichi (one) of these, ni (two) of those. Soup, sushi,
oolong cha (Chinese tea). And the food arrived... and arrived...
and arrived. I could not possibly finish, though it was all very
good.
Another curiosity was answered today. I've noticed some people (not
a lot, but enough to constitute a "movement," as Arlo
Guthrie put it) riding around on trains and bicycles, with
patches over their mouths. White patches, just large enough to
cover their mouths and their noses. Curious, odd. I asked the
translator at work why they do that, and---amazingly to me---it
returns to the politeness factor: they have a cold; they don't
want to spread it around. We should be so considerate!
I've started the ball rolling for my Japanese language lessons,
the verbal/oral kind, not written --- I've been told that
learning to write and to read the traditional language takes a
"long time," which sounds like... well, a long time,
too long. I just want to communicate. To "learn the language,
idiot!" So, I've put in my request for lessons. We'll see.
Tried to schedule for Saturday mornings at 8am. The lessons are
private, one on one, and one hour each. If future journals are
reduced to a few words, none of them recognizable, then I guess
that'll be a sign that the process has begun. J
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D a y T h
i r t e e n: 25-Aug, 1999 (Wednesday)
Hmmm...
thirteen days after my Friday-the-thirteenth, at about 13:00, I
descended the thirteen steps that lead to the street from the
restaurant, looking at the full moon barely visible in the clear
daylight sky, and SURPRISE!!.....
nothing happened. Or, rather, nothing out of the ordinary.
I thought that was interesting in itself. (My readers are
going to want to smack me about now.) J
So, I'm rounding the bend toward the end of my second week in
Japan. I'm still amazed by it all. Amazing people,
amazing food, amazing cultural differences.
The cars and traffic here are pretty interesting. Traffic,
though heavy (and though they STILL don't know how to drive on
the *right* side of the road J)
seems pretty safe, by comparison. I haven't seen or heard
of any accidents, have heard a grand total of two sirens since I've
been in this ultra-busy city. There's an occasional
perturbed honk, though. Interestingly, each time I've heard that
and checked out the driver, it's seemed to be a Westerner (male-type)
behind the wheel. More than interesting maybe... perhaps it's
telling.
The cars mostly look like the American variety (viewed in a
mirror, of course). Inside (I've been in some cabs and
buses), they're quite different from the driver's perspective.
Most cars are stick shift (no surprise there), but the odd thing
(to me) is that they're in-the-dash shifters. Right there
to the left of the steering wheel, is a Miata-sized stick shift.
I like that. Would love to sit and try one of those.
(Hey, I'm a man. What would you expect?) J
A lot of people ride bicycles here. No, more than that.
A WHOLE lot of people ride bicycles here. Makes good sense;
the streets are about wide enough for two bikes to oppose one
another on the street without touching - if they're good at
operating those things. J
And they seem to be. I don't know how to say this without
seeming like a "dirty old man" (or maybe I should say,
"... without revealing that I AM a ...") but it's odd
to me that female-types ride bicycles while wearing skirts.
Some of 'em pretty short (the skirts, I mean, not the gals,
necessarily). OK, I've mentioned it; enough on that.
The main streets, really, are pretty normal sized, some of them
quite wide. But the side streets tend to have cars parked
on both sides, and it's amazing that anyone can get through there,
even single file. But they do, and safely, so I guess it's
OK. J
Walking home from a late day at work, I saw, for the first time,
the 8:30 fireworks from Disneyland (about one train stop from
here - I don't know how else to put that, except maybe "not
far."). They were beautiful, lighting up the sky like
the best of our July 4 celebrations. I must go there while
I'm here. So many things I want to do.
Right now (minutes before Thursday), what I want to do, is to go
to sleep. So good night, good morning, or whatever applies to the
reader. J
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D a y F o
u r t e e n: 26-Aug, 1999 (Thursday)
Today, the
weather was cooler, topping out (probably) in the mid-80s. It's
been pretty warm here, and very humid, so that the .25-or-so mile
walk to work each day came dangerously close to the perspiration
mark, even at 7:30am. But I like that kind of weather, so I
have not complaints. (Actually, I've had so little to
complain about since my arrival here - other than my own
shortcomings - that it's amazing. Attitude is everything, maybe.)
Anyway, it was cooler. The sea breeze from Tokyo Bay is
nice any day, and felt particularly cheery today.
Yesterday, I was reminded (as though I needed a reminder) of my
kitties. I don't read the newspaper, generally, so I didn't mind
that the paper that hung on my door each morning was printed in
Japanese. But yesterday's paper had a picture of a kitty on
the front page, and I just had to know what that was about.
So I meandered down to the lobby and asked for an English version
(they apologized profusely for the "serious blunder,"
and I now receive an English version daily). Anyway, this
article (I'll say again) on the FRONT PAGE was about Chako, a
kitty from Akahabara (a.k.a. Electric City). I saw Chako on
my latest travel to Akahabara, two days before this paper was
published. Seems that Chako, a stray cat who had adopted a
net-aware parent named Kosako) has become widely known,
generating a huge amount of traffic on a website dedicated to her.
Traffic increased dramatically when she had kittens at some point,
and Kosako (the adopted parent) expanded the page to eight pages,
which can be seen at
http://www02.u-page.so-net.ne.jp/kb3/sira/akiba
The end of the story is, well, the end of the story for Chako,
and it saddened me and made me miss my kitties all the more.
It's interesting though, as it was pointed out to me, that this
story would make the front page of "The International
Newspaper of Japan." On the front page of today's *paper*,
is a picture of a whale that's recently been visiting Sidney
Harbor, delighting the beachgoers there. Thankfully, that
story lacks pathos. I think it's nice that their front page
isn't filled with the gloom and doom that's made me reject the US
variety to date. Does that mean I'll start reading the
Japanese variety? Well, probably not, but I can still find
it interesting.
Coming up: Kyoto! Yes, I'm going to make that trip on
Saturday! Four hours on the bullet train, most of the way
across this huge island, to what I'm told is natural and man-made
beauty that I don't want to miss. I'll spend the night in Kyoto,
and return on Sunday (assuming my reservations have been prepared;
I'll find out tomorrow). What I know of the area is that
there are plenty of "must see" temples, bridges,
gardens, palaces, mountains ... in short, a cornucopia of treats
for the eyes and the mind. I hope to have lots to tell of
the beauty there (some of which may even not involve gals J), and maybe some of the culture there, when
I return. There may be no journal entry between this one
and Sunday, because tomorrow night I'm going to Akahabara (not
cat related), to consider purchasing a camera for my trip.
(I have my digital camcorder, but pics are more easily shared.)
But maybe not, since I don't know much of what I'm looking for.
Still, it's worth a quick study. Then, early Saturday, I'll
begin my journey. I plan to keep notes, and to take videos
if nothing else.
On the way to Kyoto, is Nagasaki. I've seen pictures, taken
last week, of the shrine there... the building which was
immediately below the atomic bomb's explosion.
Interestingly (I didn't realize this) whatever is below an atomic
bomb is relatively safe (how safe is that, exactly????), and the
shrine was immediately below. The pictures showed a mostly-intact,
interesting looking building, dome-shaped top, with no glass
between the inner sanctum sanatorium and the sky. Whether
that lack of glass is by design or a result of the explosion (or
some other cause), I did not ask. I will probably blow past
Nagasaki at "mind-boggling speeds" (that's how the
bullet train's rate of travel is described in the travel guide),
since that shrine is about all there is to see there (I'm told),
but may visit it on the way back, depending on how I structure my
time. Hiroshima is half again as far as Kyoto, so I'll
probably not go there either (though I'm told that it's also a
very beautiful area). (More time issues.)
I'm excited about the trip... I've been told not to miss it.
Now I'll get to see why for myself.
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D a y s F
i f t e e n - E i g h t e e n: 27-30 Aug, 1999 (Fri-Mon)
Kyoto.
Hiroshima. Bullet trains. Fantastic gardens.
Golden pavilions that really are gold. Great food.
600-year-old temples. Castles. Nice people.
What does one choose to summarize in a short essay? How can
one decide from such a rich list?
Today, Monday, 30-August, I have limited time, but I do have much
to document. I'll be as surprised as my reader as to how
this shapes up. I suppose chronological makes the most
sense.
I arrived at the train station just before 6:00am for my 6:13
Shinkansen (bullet train) ride to Kyoto. Everything was set:
a new camera with plenty of rolls of film, camcorder, MD player
with plenty of musical selections, a change of clothes.
TOOTHBRUSH! Oh my, I've left my toothbrush! Oh.
Never mind: there it is. Good. Now to the gate.
So I reached in my pocket for the ticket, pulled it out, and put
it in the slot to let me pass. The gates closed. The
alarm sounded. I tried again, with similarly successful
results. Oh no! A quick inspection revealed that this
was the ticket for the return from Kyoto. And the other was....
where?!?!?! It wasn't where it belonged, and I never did
find it. This is a VERY expensive venture (around $500USD
plus lodging and site entry fees), usually (I got an excellent
deal) : traveling over 400 miles each way across this island to
the thitherlands, and a lost ticket was something I simply couldn't---or
didn't want to---afford.
It was a few minutes before I realized that all I had to do was
to show my paperwork to the ticket sellers, and I'd be OK.
No problems, thank you very much. I was on the 6:32 train
with a pulse rate that would probably have shaken Mark Spitz, but
I was _on_ the train!
I rode in reserved seating car number 16, window seats all the
way - very comfy and was amazed at the silence of this electric
bullet. We were on our way in under ten minutes (right on
time - the trains and subways seem ALWAYS to be right on time).
My GPS sat in the window ledge next to me, and ticked off the
miles, peaking out at a sustained 152MPH between stops. (GPS has
difficulty with limited sky "visibility," so it only
gave me measurements about half the time... but it's accurate
when it does. So I can say that we were doing "at
least" 152 most of the way. The tra n
stops about every 75 miles or ( ~30 minutes. Get that!) at
various stations to let people on or off, spending about 5-10
minutes at each stop. The scenery was breathtaking most of
the way, with mountains off to the right, then coming closer,
then tunnels as they must have overtaken us (or us, them,
depending on how you look at it). Ride was smooth and oh,
so fast. Along the way, concessions are brought through the
aisles for sale to the unsuspecting tourists: some wrapped in
gift boxes, and though I have been feeling adventurous lately, I've
not been quite that adventurous! What was in the
boxes? I may never know. I did buy ice cream, though
(Haagen Daaz [I think that's how it's spelled]), and some iced
tea along the way.
Arrived in Kyoto just after 10am, and secured my hotel, then went
to see the Golden Pavilion (Kinkaju-ji). It's a beautiful
temple, built in the 1220s, set in a beautiful lake.
Yoshimitsu, the 3rd Shogun of Ashikaga, abdicated the throne in
1394, and "indulged his peaceful life" here. It
has a beautiful gold rooster at its peak, and the rooster seemed
ablaze in the morning sun. Within the surrounding lake were
rock gardens (the huge rocks were brought in), with trees planted
on the rocks, making an ultra-serene setting.
The next order of business was the Nigo Castle (Nigo-jo), built
in 1603. To enter the building, one must remove one's shoes.
It was immense, and had beautiful grounds --- all of these
buildings had beautiful grounds, trees, and so on. Pictures
were forbidden within the building, unfortunately. The
architecture of this castle was incredible. Each room was
designed according to purpose and stature (the higher the
occupant's stature, the higher the ceiling, for example).
There were halls which were actually designed to squeak no matter
how slight the pressure on the boards there (I got down and tried
it with my hands: if I'd hired a builder and he made my floors
like that... well, that's what the courts are for, I suppose).
The idea of those halls, so they say, was that no one could move
about undetected. It'd certainly work, but I had to wonder
if there was a "king's clothing" thing going on there.
Maybe I'm just too much of a skeptic. But it would have
served its purpose. Inside some rooms, they had statues set
of how the "feudal warriors" would meet with the Shogun,
where each would sit, the body positions they would assume (bowing,
mostly) and the like. It was all so fascinating, and
lacking a journal, I'm certain that all will be lost from my
memory - there was so much detail. Each wall was painted
with various animals (here's an interesting fact: at that time,
the leopard was thought to be a female tiger, so the tigers and
leopards were painted in the same area). There was a tiger
room, a bird room, etc. I went looking for a monkey
business room, but then remembered that I was alone anyway, so I
claimed my shoes and traveled the grounds outside. Took
lots of nice pictures of the grounds, with the rock gardens,
lakes, and beautiful landscaping.
This was the full day, since most "tourist attractions"
close at 16:00 (that's 4pm for those who don't want to do the
math). J
Sunday, I visited the Sanju-Sangen-Do (Hall of 33 bays), which
was built in 1164, with its 1001 (literally) statues of warriors
and various Buddhist deities dominating the 400-foot-long wooden
building. It's very impressive, and there was a worship
session going on. That was fascinating. The session
involves exactly one person, in that well-known sitting-with-legs-crossed
position, ringing bells, burning incnse, beating drums, singing,
bowing in place, etc. I don't understand the religion or
the belief, but it was still fascinating to see, hear, and, yes,
smell. I spent, maybe, thirty minutes casually walking the
halls there in my stocking feet, and the priest (or whatever) was
still hard at it when I left. Unfortunately in this
building also, pictures were forbidden.
The Imperial Palace was closed on Sunday, so I decided to go
ahead and head further west to Hiroshima; I'd heard there were
some wonderful things to see there too, and I do love to travel,
so I headed off that way.
Of course, I visited the bomb site, then headed off to the
Shukkeien Garden, a "circular tour" garden, where I
spent the rest of the day. This amazingly peaceful place,
built in about 1620, is peace incarnate. The name means,
literally, "shrink scenery garden." Beautiful
wooden bridges, dirt trails and concrete passageways lead the way
around and through this immense garden around a huge pond that is
rich with Koi (Japanese fish of bright colors) and turtles.
Having left my Koi when I left South Carolina, I felt a sense of
complacency here. At every turn was another treat for the
eyes, while the birds sang happily in their trees. There
are gazebos to enjoy and benches to sit under the shades of
various types of trees. The garden, about two or three
miles from the atomic bomb site, was utterly destroyed by that
blast, but the Hiroshima Prefectural Board of Education
instituted repairs to restore its scenery to its condition prior
to the bombing. Now, about 300,000 visitors per year come
to Shukkeien.
There is so much more to tell, and I'm sure it'll sneak its way
into future journals, but for now I'm sad to say, I must end this
entry.
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D a y N i
n et e e n: 31 Aug, 1999 (Tue)
When I
arrived in Tokyo, it was on short notice, so my hotel
arrangements could not be made well in advance. This is
travel / holiday season for many Japanese (just like in the
States and Europe), so accommodations are sparse. There was
a two-day period when my hotel was totally booked, so this past
weekend through Monday, my bags lived in a different place.
Moving was an
experience, because I had so much to do - to prepare for my
Shinkansen ride, buy a camera and film, pack everything up... all
the stuff associated with planting oneself in new ground combined
with the rush vacation to-do's. Anyway, this morning, it
was time to move back, so I got a really early start, checked out
of the other (don't try to keep up) hotel, and arranged for a cab
to take me back to the hotel in time to drop off my pictures for
development, and still make it to work on time. Tired yet?
I was.
Mostly it was a typical day (as typical, that is, as these new
environments allow. I don't mean to imply that it's
becoming "ho hum," that's not the case at all).
One of the high points was when I picked up and reviewed the
pictures from the trip. They came out pretty well,
considering the photographer; I'm impressed. When I can get
to my scanner, I'll have some good material for perking up the
web-based trip summary that's now getting unwieldy and in need of
organizing. Just like me. J
Something I thought was interesting: when I was in Kyoto, I
turned on the TV for grins, and there was a concert going on.
These four guys were really good, especially the lead singer.
Not folk, quite and certain not English, but definitely acoustic,
and nice to listen to. There was one song that reminded me
a lot of David Lee Roth's rendition of "I Ain't Got Nobody."
The guy's voice was grovelly like DLR's, but more of a blues
style than Rock and Roll. A great combination. I
watched the whole concert, hoping for an English presentation of
their name, but it was not to be. Ah well, I couldn't catch
the words anyway, so I'll survive without it.
Then, on the subway yesterday, I noticed a poster directly in
front of me, with that lead singer's face plastered on it, in
about 3-times life size, and the caption "Chage and Aska.
Double CD. 1999 (chicken scratch) 8 (chicken scratch) 31 (chicken
scratch). I've been here long enough to recognize how dates
are written, and that was Tuesday's date. WOW! I LOVE
coincidences! So tonight, I bought that CD, and I'm about
to tune in and turn on.
Still having fun, still enjoying being here. Settling in,
yes, but appreciating the wonder of being here. I'm
learning the language by tiny turns, and making up ways to do so.
For example, I made fun of the numbering system in a previous
journal entry, and I've determined to learn it. For
reminder, 1 through 7 is ichi, ni, san, shi, go, rokku, nana....
And that, I remember by "Itchy Nissan, she go rocky, no no."
Well, it works for me, anyway. As they say in Nissan
commercials, "Your mileage may vary." J
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D a y T w
e n t y: 1 Sep, 1999 (Wed)
Well, it always comes as a
shock to me when I have little to say. It comes as more of a
shock to others, but that's beside the point. J
I am enjoying Chage and
Aska (musicians from yesterday's post) very much. A couple of
strange bits in the songs, but mostly, they're quite pleasant to
listen to.
Great news regarding
language lessons: I have arranged for them to begin, hopefully
this Saturday, two hours per week. I'm looking forward to that,
and getting a jumpstart on it in my "spare time."
Tomorrow, I'll have the
opportunity (since I'm *such* an expert, I suppose) to introduce
a new American co-worker to the area and the Japanese ways. The
phrase "blind leading blind" comes to mind. His name is
Larry, and he arrived in Tokyo(1) this evening. I called at about
8:30 to arrange to take him to dinner, and woke him from a deep
sleep. Glad I'm off to such a wonderful start. J I'm looking forward to this opportunity; it
should be enlightening for both of us.
(1) The word Tokyo
reminded me of something. That's a two-syllable word. Kyoto is
also a two-syllable word. The Y after K is not a vowel; rather it
is merely an (what's the correct term? Lacking that...)
alteration to the K, kind of like the U that follows Q in English.
The word Tokyo sounds like "Toke Yo", except that the K
begins the second syllable. That's my current best explanation of
the sound.
A light journal day. Too
bad I didn't get started earlier; I might have discovered what
"sleep" was all about. J
Addendum:
I heard from Kim, (thanks, Kim!) who's housesitting for me, and
she had a lot of comforting news w.r.t. my kitties (whom I still
miss severely). I also got a wonderful webpage from my friend
Doug Hart. It features translations from most any language to
most any language. Very well done, complete with sound files,
common phrases, etc. The page I was interested in starts at http://www.travlang.com/languages/cgi-bin/langchoice.cgi?page=main&lang1=english&flags.x=290&flags.y=333
(thanks, Doug!)
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D a y T w
e n t y - o n e: 2 Sep, 1999 (Thu)
The third week in Japan
will be behind me in less than 24 hours. That's so hard to
believe! Time goes by so quickly.
This morning, I studied some more chicken scratch stuff before
meeting Larry and leading him to work. He's a good guy; a
funny (humorous, not the other meaning) to talk to. An
American who spent "too long" (his words) in some small
Southeast Asian country back in '68 - '69. Viet something
or other. Said he'd been to Tokyo once before, for about
four hours, when he was on his way home. That makes him an
expert in my book.
: ^)
Andy (co-worker, friend), from Hong Kong had about a year of
Japanese lessons when he was in college, not so long ago... so I've
been imposing on him for guidance. He's been patient and
kind w.r.t. my queries about the language. Poor guy didn't
know he'd be descended upon, I think. J
I'm disappointed that our translators seem only to be in our
office about two days (sometimes one day) per week, and though
the official language of the company is supposed to be English,
well, it just doesn't turn out that way. It's been
interesting---fun, really---learning as I have been, but quite
frustrating when I have to go looking for someone who understands
both languages in order to make any accomplishment. On an
average day, there are, maybe, three people who can do that, and
they have other things to do. About eight or nine, total,
that I know of who can speak English---in a project of about 200.
I don't mean to complain, though... only to document that it's
not all a bed of roses, and it's certainly not easy.
Enough of that! As I said, it's fun, too. I was
sitting at lunch with my co-workers, and noticed anew the amount
of chatter about the restaurant. I said to Paul, "How do
they know what each other is saying?" "Well, what
do you mean?" "My goodness, Paul! Haven't
you noticed they're all speaking Japanese!?!?" That
brought some strange looks and a few obliging chuckles from my
crew. J
I had sushi for breakfast, a traditional Italian lunch, and curry
for dinner, so I guess you could say that my stomach toured the
world today. I'm still amazed at the variety of restaurants
available around here, and I'm not even close to the heartbeat of
the city. Amazing. Food is still excellent, prices
are still reasonable in my opinion. Service is still good,
and I'm treated very well.
Shoes are an interesting thing here. I don't want to say
these people are generally short, but some of them could walk
under a well-equipped American high wheeler without bumping their
heads. J They (some of them)
compensate for that by wearing these amazingly tall shoes. "Stilts,"
I call 'em. J They look like any other
shoes if you can ignore the fact that the soul is up to about six
inches thick. I guess they plan to walk a long way before
they need new shoes.
This cellphone society has me really amazed. Everywhere I
go, even in the workplace, there are cellular phones in use.
On the streets, about one out of five is talking on the phone
while walking or biking or sitting on a bench... I mean,
EVERYWHERE! I fully expect, anytime, to see some gal
walking down the road with a cellular phone held to each ear.
And they're such cute little things (yes, I'm referring to the
phones, as far as you know). I picked one up that belonged
to one of my co-workers, and it was tiny and nearly weightless.
(Yes, still talking about the phones. As far as you know.)
It can't be technology, it has to be magic. Yes, that's it.
These people are all magicians, and they're saying magician
things, writing magician chicken scratches, and listening to
magician music as they make their magical ways through this
magical place.
Magical. Possibly that'll be the concept that best describes
my trip when it's all said and done. "How was Japan,
Dennis?" "Oh, my, it was magical!"
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D a y T w
e n t y - t w o: 3 Sep, 1999 (Fri)
Weekend!
I guess God enjoyed his day of rest so much that He gave us two
of 'em. Thank God! J
Actually, it's now the morning of day twenty-three. I was
exhausted by the time we left work yesterday, so I lay down for a
few minutes. That was... maybe eleven hours ago!
Sheesh! Now the new day calls and I hope to get some
souvenir shopping done.
Andy's gone home to Hong Kong for the weekend. Paul is
probably at the Fishery (a site I hope to see next weekend).
Jungie's probably doing his laundry. Larry's actually in
another workgroup, so he's probably out doing whatever it is that
contingency planners do. So here I sit. Being lazy.
And quite enjoying it, thank you very much.
These are great guys to work with, a lot of fun. Excluding
me, our workgroup is all of Asian descent (Hong Kong, China,
Manila), and all of them use English as their primary language (Jungie
being the only one whose accent is telling). Paul is the
youngest, I think. He's outgoing, funny, and light hearted.
Andy is sincere, quiet. He's been to Japan before, and is
pretty good at reading Japanese (a _huge_ help in the restaurants
and stores). Jungie is kind and thoughtful. And they're
all fun to be around.
What have I said about the mall across the street from my hotel?
Hmmm. Well, it's actually two department stores, but together
they're larger than any mall I've been in. Four stories,
selling just about anything you'd find in your standard-issue U.S.
mall. On the top floor is a gymnasium, complete with tennis
courts (I'm told). There are about a dozen ---or maybe more---
good sit-down restaurants in the place. Usually, we find
ourselves heading there for lunch.
As I implied, I pretty much let Day Twenty-Two pass me by, so
there's not a lot to report. After breakfast, I'll head out
to a couple of the areas that are known for their shopping
("you mean there's MORE?!?!?"). Tomorrow, Sunday, Naomi
(translator) has offered to act as guide to Paul, Jungie, and me.
Fantastic! A guided tour!
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D a y T w
e n t y - t h r e e: 4 Sep, 1999 (Sat)
Saturday started off on a
fine note, after finally gaining the initiative to start the day
of shopping in Shijuku Chome. I was descending the
escalator from the train, and there stood a person in need.
She had dropped her railway ticket on the escalator, and it was
sitting in that danger zone where the step meets the meat grinder.
Have you ever noticed how much that looks like a meat grinder?
Especially when you're on the bottom ofthe down escalator, and
the steps merge with the rail just in the "nick" (ouch!
sorry!) of time, to slip under the floor? Anyway, the
ticket was caught there, apparently trying to decide whether it
should "go under" when the next step caught it, or be
pushed off. I saw this from several feet up, and dozens of
people just ignored the event, making their way through their
busy day. The moment of heroism approached, so I retrieved
a pen from my pocket and used it to push the ticket in front of
me, off of the escalator. This saved the lady, I don't know,
maybe about two dollars US, but it seemed very valuable to her,
and it made me feel darned good. The bows and 
("arigato gozaimasu's" or
"thank you's" if you prefer) were still flowing as I
rounded the corner to the exit.
Stores, stores, stores. Shinjuku Chome is a huge collection
of department stores of several floors, sort of like Akihabara (Electric
City), but more slanted toward clothes, luggage, and the like.
There was a huge six-story bookstore, for example, with each
floor holding different kinds of books, all in scribbledeegoop...
except that the fifth floor was the "foreign" section.
There, I located some books in English, French, Spanish and so on.
Not much interested me, however (I don't much enjoy shopping
alone), so I traipsed store to store, and floor to floor, looking
for something to grab my interest. One interesting thing I
found, was the way people dressed in one particular store.
They (men, mostly) were in bright colored, flashy things that
would make Elton John envious. Strange, strange clothes.
A pair of yellow, red and black pants with a green and white
shirt, with blue and red dress shoes and an orange hat, for
example. On one guy! Dang, I wish I'd had the nerve to
point my camera! I pictured Eddie Murphy's uncontrolled
laughter in "Beverly Hills Cop," as he found himself
amused at the hairstyles of that area. However, I hopefully
did a slightly better job of hiding my amusement.
I didn't find anything that I felt I had to have (since I already
own all the blue and red dress shoes I need, thank you very much),
so after about three hours of wandering, I lunched (Earl Grey tea
and cheesecake) at Ashby's of London, then tried to get myself
lost in the city. That's not hard to do, as it turns out.
In fact, it's much easier than I'd ever hoped. J
I went to a station that I
thought was near the Imperial Palace, and stopped in a store to
ask for directions. They guy pointed me in the right way,
and said, "You'll walking?" "Hai."
"To the Parace?" "Hai." "Bad wrong.
Velly distant." (If he'd known the phrase, he'd
probably have said, "You ain't from around here, are ya?"
but thankfully I was spared from that.) He showed me a map
that got me to the subway, and I opted instead to head for
Akasaka Mitsuka, which is slightly more familiar ground to me (having
been lost there once before). There, I found some
interesting items: lamps, dainty statues, knick knacks, and the
like. Prices were fairly reasonable, and the workmanship
was superb. I found an itty bitty kitty, about 1/8"
tall and wonderfully detailed that I just had to have. ¥800,
which is about $8 US. When I picked it out, the storeowner
said he'd made it himself... then showed me a mouse, just a speck
of grain really, that he'd made. Incredible. When I
opened my wallet, I realized I didn't have any bills small enough
for the shop to handle, so I've made a note to return and get the
kitty item later. Maybe I'll have him sign it. J Maybe not.
Sunday, I'll head for Tokyo Tower again; there are some souvenirs
there that I'd like to look at again. Then, at 5pm, Jungie,
Paul and I will meet Naomi for our tour.
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D a y T w e n t y - f o u r: 5-Sep, 1999 (Sun)
An
interesting morning conversation:
"Urayasu
Brighton front desk, may I help you?"
"Yes, this is
Room 704."
"Yes?"
"I have a problem with the water heater for the tea."
"I
see. Your water is cold?"
"No, it heats the water, but when I push on the top to pump
out the water, it pumps only air."
"So,
your shower is cold?"
"Excuse me? OH, no, the shower is fine. The
problem is with the tea pot."
"You
are out of tea?"
"No, I have tea,
thank you. But the pot doesn't work correctly."
"I
see. The housekeeper will be at your room shortly.
Please take advantage of her to heat your tea. Thank
you, bye."
"Umm... OK.
Thank you."
We did the "tour"
today. I didn't realize it was to be a "tour" of
restaurants... but it was fun, nonetheless. In total, there were
eight of us in the group, and we started off at a Korean Barbecue
(no, we didn't actually barbecue Koreans... there are very few of
them around here and we couldn't afford the going price). That's
an interesting kind of restaurant. You're seated at a table that
has a grill in the middle (or in our case, a grill at each end),
and you order raw meats, sliced into smallish pieces. You grill/barbecue
your own food, right there, a bitesized piece at a time. Rice, of
course, was the starch of the day. The food was excellent, the
price was just a little high (about $30 US per capita in our case
- not terrible), and it was a lot of fun.
After the K-BBQ, we headed
to a coffee/tea place where we could sit on the sidewalk (in
chairs) and watch people go by, with probably the most perfect
weather and setting I've experienced since arriving here. Not
that the weather's been bad (it hasn't), but this was just ...
special. Dale, from the UK, has returned (from Australia [don't
try to keep up]), and Jit, from the UK, is a new addition to the
team. Mark (Manila) and Patricia (Manila) rounded out the party.
We sat there for about an hour, talking about whatever came to
our minds (a dangerous venture, that), some of us singing songs
we knew by heart, and just enjoying ourselves. A rowdy bunch, we
are. No, seriously, we livened up the whole block. I hid behind a
pillar. OK, I didn't, but sometimes I wanted to. J Secretly, though, I loved every minute of
it.
Mark heads up a different
group, and he's fun to talk to, rather outgoing and shy at the
same time (you'd have to be there). Patricia is reserved and
friendly. Jit had just arrived in Tokyo for the first time ever,
about four hours before. Naomi is very outgoing and tolerant. I've
talked about all the others except Dale. Hmmmm. Dale is.. well,
he's Dale. He's definitely the one who brings out the rowdiness
in the rest of us. We'll just leave it at that for now.
Anyway, I had caffe latte,
others had beer, hot wine, hot chocolate, limonade. Then, we
opted to walk to Akasaka, where everyone but Jungie and I were
staying. That's a five minute train ride or a twenty minute walk,
and the weather made the transportation decision brain-optional.
A great ending to a fun night out. From there, it was two subway
trips to "home," were I now am writing my journal entry
of the day.
But I still miss my
kitties. That's allowed, I think.
Oh, and regarding this
morning's "interesting conversation": All I can say, is that it
seems like a terribly inefficient way to heat tea.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
D a y T w e n t y - f i v e: 6-Sep, 1999 (Mon)
Rounding the
corner to the home stretch for the first month here.
Imagine that! The biggest news of the day is that I'll
begin my Japanese language lessons on Sunday, 12-Sep, bright and
early at 8AM local time. It's taking a little while for
this thick brain to begin to absorb some of the speech mannerisms
here, but it's slowly starting to take some form. I think
the timing of the lessons is perfect. I'd have started them
sooner if given the chance, so it's probably best the way it's
working out.
A roll of film went into the photo shop tonight. Only
tomorrow will reveal what's on it. Some of Hiroshima in
general, probably a lot from Shukkeren garden specifically, and
who-knows-what else. Roll five, still in the camera, now
holds the images of last nights' party. Now I want to use
up that roll and share with my friends. Maybe I'll people-watch
tomorrow, camera in hand.
Work was work, play was pretty much missing today. Listened
some to Cliff Eberhardt, Richard Shindell, and David Wilcox while
I worked, so it wasn't a really grueling day. Andy is back
from his weekend in Hong Kong. Ryoji is back from Hawaii.
The team is strong, and we're working hard to achieve our mission.
Lunch was at Jonathon's, where I had ... oh, shoot.
Something good on noodles. It's a very interesting meal.
The food is served very hot, and there are onion peels covering
the noodles, meat, and vegetables. It's amazing: the onion
peels literally dance in the heat, kind of like (OK, I shouldn't
mention this when describing food, but...) inchworms. They
squiggle and squirm, and it took a moment to get used to the idea
of eating anywhere near that activity. But it was
interesting to look at, and (hunger setting in) very tasty.
Not at all like inchworms, if I recall correctly. J
Arrived home from work at about 8:15, so for late dinner, I
stopped in at the convenience store and got a bento box with
chicken, rice, and assorted vegetables. That's a very
inexpensive way to eat (I do it frequently, actually), and it's
tasty and healthy.
It occurs to me that most of my posts make some mention of the
food of the day. Believe it or not, to me, food is merely a
method of sustenance, not something I go searching for "because
it's time." I usually have to be hungry. But I
have found the variety of the area (and the unsubtle differences)
to be among the most fascinating things to describe here... and
it's something that most people can associate with in one way or
another.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
D a y T w e n t y - s i x: 7-Sep, 1999 (Tue)
Watashi wa
tired. Watashi wa exhausted, in fact. "Watashi
wa" is my squiggledygoop phrase-of-the-day, which means
"I am." Watashi wa or not watashi wa. That
is the qrestion. J
Watashi wa being silly. Today, I got the opportunity to see
the main office complex for the client site. It's a
beautiful site, adjacent to Tokyo Disneyland in Maihama. I've
yet to enter the park, though I've seen the "Magic Kingdom"
building several times as I've passed on the train. The office
complex grounds are landscaped by the same folks who do the park,
and I was amazed at the meticulous condition of the trees, shrubs,
topiaries and grounds of the area. Like they'd just
finished edging a few minutes ago. I asked about that, and
was told that it's always like that. Hmmm... another "Amazement
Park." There were topiaries of a large and a small
elephant, and various other animal shapes around. Next time,
I'll take my camera.
Entering the workplace, I found it to be about like any other
computer lab I've been in: people in groups, pointing at
terminals, and exclaiming/explaining in some strange language...
probably about the same as I appear to any other person, English
speaking or otherwise. The occasional word like "Unix,"
"SQL," "Platform," etc. perked up my ears,
and I had to grin at the idea that the little I understand, is
the same things others _don't_ understand about my conversations.
Amazing, when you think about it. Or maybe not.
I didn't know that computer rooms are revered places, though.
We went into there to work with one of the test machines (to give
me a demonstration of a product I'm working with), and we weren't
to enter with our shoes on. There's a rack to hold the
shoes, and a healthy supply of clean (I hope) house slippers
handy. The guy demonstrating the product (_the_one_ in the
company who understands it) spoke not a word of English. I had a
list of questions that I would voice to the interpreter, the
interpreter would squiggle out loud to the demonstrator, who'd go
through the steps on the screen to show me how to accomplish what
I needed. The real crime was that I understood it.
Watashi wa hopeless in human affairs, but computers I understand.
J
After the demo/instruction, I picked up the pictures from the
photo shop, which sit, still unviewed, in the office. Dang,
I forgot!
Anyway, it was a longish day. I feel so much better about
my current assignment, so all in all, it was a fine one.
Lunch (I'm told by some that this is a non-optional subject
matter) was at Meek University, where I had a bowl of hot, spicy
soup whose name can't be pronounced by humans over five feet tall.
It was tasty, had noodles as a base, and a variety of vegetables
(featuring Japanese [Chinese?] radishes and other spicy stuff).
Rice on the side, with iced coffee (ultra popular here) to drink.
The noodles, veggies, and rice are to be eaten with chopsticks,
and there's a Japanese soup spoon for the liquid (for those who
are actually capable of downing a whole two-quart meal). I'm
pretty darned capable with a pair of chopsticks, thank you very
much. In fact, when we eat at some of those Indian places,
I'm disappointed when they bring silverware. Somehow, it's just
not as much fun. J
I've mentioned transportation, focusing mostly on the trains
rather than the variety. Bicycles are very, very popular
here. They ride almost exclusively on the sidewalk, and
they have bells to ring to alert pedestrians of their approach.
Scooters are also somewhat popular on the streets or the sidewalk,
depending on mood, I suppose. I think they'll use the
street until the light goes against them, then they switch to the
sidewalk. But mostly it's motorcycles and cars on the
streets. I've spotted a few Miatas; some equipped for
drivers on the left side, and some on the wrong side. J There was one Z-3, a couple of Rolls
Royces, and a lot of tiny things made, apparently, for the
munchkins of Oz. There was a skateboarder making his way
through Tokyo Station. I don't remember seeing any skaters
at all.
I've seen only one evidence of an accident, and it is a true
marvel/mystery to me. An 18-wheeler has been sitting on the
lonely road I walk down on my way to and from work, since my day
of arrival. The front end is devastated. Driver's
side is totally smashed in, driver's front tire was flattened.
And there's nothing in the area that shows any sign of damage.
The road is controlled by guards standing at the entrance, and it
only runs for about 1/4 mile, to Tokyo Bay. Anyway, this
truck is about the only thing to see along that road. One
day, one of the guards led a party of three to the truck and was
pointing to various areas of damage, exclaiming things in
sqiggledy. The other attendees nodded and gazed. Last
week, all the wheels (except two) were removed from the truck and
the area. Maybe they're trying to get some Eastern
Appalachian Mountain Roadside Modern Art going. The king of
rusted automobiles. Maybe it'll be dedicated as a shrine to
America. J Anyway, I don't know why I
spent so much time dwelling on it, except that it's a mystery.
Larry (remember Larry? I guided him to his first day of
work, last week?) understood immediately what had happened to the
truck. "It's obvious what happened, based on where it's
situated, Dennis." I looked around at the fields and
nothingness and said, "It is?" "Sure.
This is Tokyo. Godzilla got it." I suppose that's why
he gets the big bucks and they pay me in yen.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
D a y T w e n t y - s e v e n: 8-Sep, 1999 (Wed)
You point at
something, and you say, "Kore wa Nihongo de nan to iimasuka?"
It means, "how do you say this in Japanese?" It's
hard, though, to point at some things you're trying to say.
It's my tough phrase of the day... or maybe of the week, given
my difficulty with it. J
Sheesh, I'm a child again.
Today, work showed more progress than other days of the recent
past, so confidence is gaining. Mostly this is because of
my (very worthwhile) trip to the Maihama office, and the
demonstration received there. Progress is good; I'm in favor of
it.
It was a long one, though: we left the office at about 8:15PM.
On the way home, I saw a guy sitting on a bench at the entrance
to Urayasu station (two minutes from the hotel), next to a
waterfall. In his lap was a guitar, and he was playing ---
get this! "Take It Easy," by the Eagles! Way cool!
His English sounded to me, probably, a lot like my Japanese would
sound to him: I was able to make out a word here and there, but
hey, it was an acoustic concert! So I dashed to the hotel
room go get my camcorder, dashed back, and he was still there.
Permission: kore wa Nihongo de nan to iimasuka? I
have no earthly idea. So I turned the camera on, opened the
viewfinder, and there, in the middle of the screen, where no
indicator should be when something important is going on, was a
flashing "dewpoint" indicator. It's enough to
make me say, "damn!" In Japanese, if I'd known
the word. Damoo is close enough. "Shoot!"
works too. L
Anyway, I sat there, enjoying "Sukiaki" (couldn't
believe it) and other tunes, waiting for the camcorder to wake up
and join the fun. While I waited, a bunch of (ten. I
counted.) students (you know them by their uniforms) saw me
toying with the camera, and wanted me to take their picture.
It was difficult to explain until I pointed to the little
raindrop on the screen, and one of them said, "Ah! Wet!"
Well, yeah. Of course!
Now, I won't mention the gender or age of these students because
of the questions it might raise, but this was the most delightful
bunch of 16-year-old girls I've talked to in a long time. J (C'mon, camera!
Be nice!) Between the bunch of them, we were able to make
snippets of conversation. They seemed impressed by my ten-or-so
phrases. (I think they were just being nice.) They
asked how old I was, and although I know "juu nana" (which
would be seventeen), I figured they wouldn't buy it, so I said
"yon juu nana" (which is the truth, and is somewhat
older than the original figure). Anyway, they wanted to
know what country I was from (got that from the Japanese words.
I was so proud), and what brought me to Japan. I promised
to try to tape them tomorrow (at least I *HOPE* that's what I
promised! If my next message mentions something about steel
bars, handcuffs and the clanging of heavy doors, we'll know that
I got that part a little wrong...) if the camera is in a better
mood. If we understood one another, the musician will also
probably be there. I hadn't noticed him there before, but
then again, I seldom am around there after 8:30PM or so.
Not much else to report due to the long day. The fun
continues, and takes new unexpected turns constantly. Life
is like that. Life is good.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
D a y T w e n t y - e i g h t: 9-Sep, 1999 (Thu)
Well, we're deep into the day that someone (who was that? Oh, shoot,
maybe I _should_ read the paper!) predicted that the world would end, the
day that many believed to be the first hurdle for Y2K problems (9/9/99) (I
never believed that, but who am I?) (Oh yeah, Lovelady-san.) and the day
that marks the beginning of the rest of our lives. Only the final one, I
think, bears any merit at this point.
It was a tired day today, and I'm very difficult. Or something like that.
I've learned a couple more phrases (Mata ashita "see you tomorrow" and
Anata no namae wa nan to iimasuka "What is your name"). I can now count
to nine hundred ninety nine in squigglese, and even tell the time (in
hours). Wow! Wouldn't a first-grader be amazed!? J
So some progress
on that front is being made. Official language lessons start Sunday, when
we'll see if the instructor feels my attention is being put in the right
direction. Overall, I'm pretty pleased with progress in that department.
Other matters: I didn't meet the gals as promised,
and "work" deserves its title. Progress is also being made in that
department, though. I mean, the work part, not the other. J
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
D a y s T w e n t y - n i n e t h r u
T h i r t y - o n e: 10-12-Sep, 1999 (Fri-Sun)
Personal reminders:
o when going to Roppongi with "the boys," take extra cash
o ginkos (banks) close their ATMs at 6PM, and reopen them at 8AM
o when going to a distant part of Tokyo, be at the train station by midnight, or plan on taking a cab.
o cab drivers do not know where you live, even after you tell them, and point it out on a map.
o cab drivers do not accept credit cards.
Oops! The learning process continues. I went to Roppongi with the others
on the project. My first Friday/Saturday nights "out" with this bunch.
We had a ball - went first on Friday to a traditional Japanese restaurant
that has private rooms for large parties (we numbered seven: Patricia,
Dale, Jit, Andy, Paul, Adam (new guy) and me. Jungie's home for the next
several days... but there I go digressing again). These private rooms
have doors that close, soundproofing, windows to see the folks in the next
rooms, and --- (drum roll, please) --- karayoke machines. Karayoke
machines with a seeming endless number of "songs you know by heart" in
about any language you'd care to name. Thank heavens for soundproofing!
Pat and I tried a couple of songs that were originally American (plus
"Sukiaki," but had squigglese instead of English on the screen. Mostly,
we sang "Squiggle, squiggle, backspace..." for the parts of those that we
didn't know, but sometimes we'd pay a "Doo-be-doo-be-doo" tribute to Frank
Sinatra. J
These people (well, all of them except me, of course) are crazy!
J I
had *such* a wonderful time! We stayed in the restaurant---where we had
sushi, chicken, assorted squigglese vegetables---from 10PM until about
12:30, when they brought our bill. I drank cola, thank you very much. Or
"cora," if you're from around here. Most of us did. A couple of the guys
had saki.
The way they served the saki was interesting. First they put down a (for
lack of a better word) bowl, then the put the glass for the saki into the
"bowl." Then they'd fill the glass, letting it overflow until the "bowl"
was full. None of us knew the proper way to deal with that technique...
it'd be interesting to find out.
Anyway, the bill was brought and paid. The two managers (that'd be Dale
and me) decided to cover one third each, and the rest was paid by the
other five. It was worth it to me. After we left there, we decided to
continue on to Roppongi, where we sat in a bar (more cora, for me) for a
couple of hours, watching people dance and carry on. Roppongi is the
place where the nightlife "foreigners" (that'd be us) go - a bar district.
It's popular with the foreigners because it's nearly 100% English-speaking
(or British speaking when Dale and Jit are there) people. Bars are way
overcrowded, but there's not usually a cover charge. A 6-ounce cola is
about the same price as a 12-ounce beer ($8 US for the cola, about $10 US
for a beer... NOW I know where these people who warned me about prices
spent their time! JJ
Having had enough of that (at least for me - "come on, guys, it's
2:30AM!), we wandered off to Starbucks for caffe latte and whatever
everyone else had. Starbucks is a two-story affair, with couches and
tables upstairs... really comfortable couches and chairs. People actually
sleep on those couches at that hour. Stretched out. We sat and talked
(Dale mostly running the show) about the proper spelling of Aluminum,
book, tomato (English or American?)... He decided that, since the language
is called "English," the country "that invented it" couldn't be wrong....
J
Then, it was a discussion of rugby vs. football, which received some
... attention from a neighbor table. A "sports fan" who didn't take too
kindly to the putdown of the sport. Did you know that a 5'10" person can
hide comfortably under a chair comfortably when given the initiative? J
No, really, there was no fighting or anything like that, but it was a bit
noisy for a while. J When we left Starbucks, it was about 3:30AM. The
others live near the area, and I live far from there, so we took separate
cabs.
The interstate ride was fascinating at that hour. There's almost no
traffic at that hour, of course, but I was amazed when I noticed the
driver was sustaining 170KPH (that's about 110MPH for those who don't wish
to do the math)! Sustained! Wow! It usually takes about 45 minutes to
get from that area to where I live, and on this night, it took less than
25. For the ¥8800 fare, I reached into my wallet and pulled out both the
bills I held. One was a ¥1000 bill, and the other was also a ¥1000 bill.
OOPS! My poor Japanese got across "Do you accept credit cards?" "No."
OOPS! "OK. I'll get cash from the hotel." I mean, the hotels do that,
right? Everywhere I've been, if you have to get emergency cash, the hotel
will add a charge to your room, and hand you the cash. But then, I've
never been to Japan before. The bank I do business with here is only a
short walk away, but they close the doors to the ATM at night. So the
driver had the idea to take me to Tokyo Disneyland, the "High Society"
hotel. They have an ATM inside, but it turns out to be inactive until
8AM. Well, this story's getting too long. Suffice to say that, after
about a myriad of vanishing ideas, I finally spoke to the manager of my
hotel, and, due to the emergency nature, they added the bill to my room
charge and paid the man. The whole time that he was driving me around
(about half an hour), he had the clock turned off (on purpose), having
changed his goal from "standard service" to helping a guy out. And the
hotel refused to tip him. L
So it was about 5:30AM when I finally got to sleep. At 8AM, the phone
rang. "Hello, Lovelady-san. This is Nakamura-san. I'm here for your
first language instruction." OH NO! I tried to live my life right - how
did I end up in Hell?!?!?! J I honestly had thought the class was to
be on Sunday. I rush-dressed, and met her in the lobby, made some tea,
and spent two hours attempting to learn some squigglese. Thankfully
(amazingly), I retained much of what she said, and for the past couple of
days I've been reviewing the book she left. There is hope.
Of course, after she left, I went hunting for food, then returned and
passed out until about 5PM.
We learn from our mistakes. That's what I hear. There's an assumption in
there, though. . I think it needs a qualifier, like: "those who have some
semblance of intelligence learn from their mistakes." "^) I had promised
to join up with the others again on Saturday night. I agreed only because
it was Pat's last night in Japan, so it was her "rolloff party." I had a
nice dinner (fried pork and egg on rice with a wonderful sauce on top...
one of the things I order frequently --- partly because I've learned how
to recognize it in squiggly on the menu, but mostly because I like it),
and headed back to my punishment in Akasaka.
This time, I was determined not to get into money trouble, so before
leaving, I got plenty of cash from the machine. I also was quite
determined not to again throw myself to the mercy of a taxi driver, so I
made a vow to myself to stay out until 5:45, when the subway would run.
It was pretty much the same thing (sans Karayoke), but we went to
different places. We played foosball and air hockey in one place (my team
won both, in spite of me), but mostly we watched the people, listened to
the music, and danced a little. I was reminded of our age difference when
we went into a 60s place with a live band, and the others said, "Oh no.
Old peoples' music!" -- and left. J
No Starbucks this night. We wandered around on the street a lot, and just
acted like silly tourists. At about 5:30, we saw a runner getting his
exercise in for the morning, so one of us (name deleted - not me) went
running right behind him, yelling "Stop that man! He stole my wallet!"
I'm sometimes amazed at the nerve some people have when they don't think
they'll be believed or understood. Thankfully, he was right, and he came
back laughing, triumphant in his joke. It *WAS* funny, but only after the
fact. J
Anyway, 5:45 arrived, and we all went our separate ways again. I came
home exhausted but glad I'd visited Roppongi... it's part of what you're
"supposed to do" while you're here. Now it's done, and I think I'll let
the younger generation fill in for me henceforth. J Except I may go,
alone, to see that 60s bar again. J
Sunday. "The day of rest." Yeah, that's pretty much how I ended my first
month in Japan. Resting... walking around the area... studying my
Japanese, and, eventually (too late, it turns out) going to the Shinjuku
shopping area for souvenirs. I'm headed home for a few days next week
(I'll be gone all week, but home only for a few days), and wanted to take
some souvi's with me. Last minute Christmas shopping or whatever. J
So now, it's just past midnight, and I've started my second month in
Japan. I've been reflecting on all that has transpired, all the things
I've seen and done, all the places I've been, all that I have learned, and
all that I still need to or want to learn. It's been an amazing month. I
miss my kitties, I miss time with my friends, I miss live music, I miss my
home, but I *am* happy here, and if I were given the choice again - to
stay in "Atranta," close to those other things, or to come here and get
totally lost and confused, I wouldn't change a thing.
Except that I'd have money to pay a cab driver early on a Saturday
morning. J
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D a y T h i r t y - t w o: 13-Sep, 1999 (Mon)
Ahaiyo gozaimasu!
Wow, I felt my first earth tremor or quake or whatever today. Actually,
I've been through a few of them, but in each circumstance I'd been riding
a bicycle or driving a car or whatever, and missed their effects
completely. This one was at about 8AM, and lasted maybe sixty seconds.
Not a big deal, apparently, to anyone who'd been through one before, but
as a first realized experience, it was --- how do you say? --- unsettling.
J
Oh, but don't worry. I'm pretty sure I survived. However, I felt
uneasy on my feet for several minutes thereafter, my mind telling me it
was still going on. So now I've had the feeling, thank you very much, and
am fully prepared for them to stop occurring.
J
Otherwise, it was "just another day in Japan" (no, I have NEVER really
felt that way!). Actually, come to think of it, I've not experienced the
"Monday blues" since arriving here either. Anyway, after the morning's
excitement, I staggered off to work, where I put in a good day's effort,
with lunch at the department store across the street from the hotel.
Indian. Chicken curry (tasty) with nan, to be eaten with silverware.
(Who chose this place, anyway? Not me!) If you've never had nan (a type
of bread), you're missing out. I don't know how to describe the taste,
except to say that it tastes like chicken when it's served with chicken
curry.
J
No, really, it has a spicy flavor and is ever so tasty. It
looks a lot like those elephant ears that can be purchased, for the mere
price of your firstborn child, in the midways of carnivals and fairs.
Right there between the corn dog and the cotton candy stands. But it
doesn't taste like that at all. Anyway, the nan goes very well with
curry; the two complement each other very well.
Hmmm... how to find something interesting to tell. After work, I
laundered my clothes at an "open 18 hours" automat. Not too much exciting
about that (though I'm sure my co-workers will appreciate it, even if you
don't). Studied Squigglese Lesson 1 again just like a good little
student. I'm feeling happy and healthy, so that's good but not very
exciting either. So ...how about this:
Can you imagine how surprised you'd be---how amazing the coincidence---to
be, oh, say 7,000 miles from home, nowhere near Cheers ("Where Everybody
Knows Your Name") and, rounding a corner, you bump into your best friend
from grade school... the one you could always count on to pick you for his
baseball team... the one who helped you get past that seventh-grade
nervousness... the guy who'd go fishing with you at Old Mill Dam... the
one who (bless his heart) knocked you into that mud puddle---in the
presence of your girlfriend---when you were both little guys? The brat
you haven't seen in over thirty years due to circumstances neither of you
could control? And wouldn't it be even more amazing if you just happened
to bump him hard enough that he stepped backward into a puddle... in the
presence of his favorite client? Can you imagine the coincidence!?
Well, neither can I, since it hasn't happened to me either, but I'll bet
it would be an amazing thing.
J
(Yes, I know it was cruel... but it
gave me time to think.)
OK, back to reality. I had my pictures from Roppongi (my spelling checker
says that should be "roping." Just how smart are they making these things
now????) et al developed - they came out great! I had two copies made, so
that others could take copies at will, and they really enjoyed that. I'm
holding some great blackmail material now.
J
It was wise of me to
leave the negatives in the hotel room, I think.
J
`
I was going to go to Akihabara today, but left work to late for that.
It's amazing to me that the stores in that area close around 8pm. It's
doubly amazing because, having been there at that time twice now (enough
for a scientific conclusion), the stores and streets are packed... in
fact, just ramping up by then. Just another cultural difference, I
suppose. Huh. Although I'm not upset over it, that opinion reminds me of
that lady (French accent) who was at the New Otani hotel when I was
waiting for "the boys" to gather me up for our Friday night escapades.
She was trying to find out what time the stores there closed and reopened,
and was amazed --- no, she was irate --- that the hotel didn't do
something about the short hours. "All hotels should ensure that there are
stores open all night long. What kind of place is this?!?" "Tourists," I
thought. "Who needs them?"
J
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D a y T h i r t y - t h r e e: 14-Sep, 1999 (Tue)
Business
first. Well, I did a dumb thing (not that that's so unusual,
in and of itself, but...). I accidentally deleted my "Day Thirty-two" message before adding
it to my web-based journal. So if anyone still has a copy, I'd appreciate
you forwarding it to me. Thanks.
Tuesday, we worked late into the evening. A "short meeting" was held to
discuss some technical issues about our technical work, and seemed to be
making no progress as we were bumped from one meeting room to another, and
finally to a nearby restaurant (no meeting rooms available) to sort out
some differences that were in need of that. We had an excellent
translator (Koji), who has always done a great job in prior meetings. It
wasn't until about 7:30pm that we finally realized that there was, in
fact, no problem other than the fact that we couldn't make each other
understand what we were saying. Apparently, chicken scratch is as unusual
a means of expression to them as squigglese is to me. Ah well. I
returned to the office after the five-hour ordeal to get some work done.
Ryoji and I (the two leaders at the meeting) are friends - have been since
my first day of work in this country. He was born and raised here, but
has fairly good English conversational skills. We need a translator,
though, when the topics involve complexities. I suppose it's really no
different from the communications problems people have even if they speak
the *same* language. Thankfully, we all kept our cool, we all laughed a
lot, but none of us seemed able to convey our point, or to interpret the
conveyed points properly until a miracle happened: it all became clear.
It happens in English-to-English conversations all the time, and it's
taken me this long to realize how important culture and background are to
a meaningful conversation. Some day, I'll find a way to properly voice
the lessons I learned from this event. All in all, though I was dead
tired when I returned home, I felt (and feel) encouraged that we've made
this progress. And that's what it's all about.
I'm writhing this on Wednesday, a National holiday: "Kero no Hi,"
or "Respect for the Aged Day."
Most public and private offices will be closed. Stores, I'm
told, will be going strong, so I'm headed out shortly to see how long it
takes to exhaust my bank account. I should be back in an hour or so.
J
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D a y T h i r t y - f o u r: 15-Sep, 1999 (Wed)
Necessary history lesson: In 1966 (maybe early '67... I have no ref.
material here), The Beatles toured the world. The visit to Japan was the
beginning of a downhill slide for The Beatles. There were some bad
scenes, some legal issues (none of which involved drugs, I believe), and a
general sign of slippage from their incomprehensible popularity. They
were not welcomed nor accepted, from what I've read, and in fact left
earlier than originally planned. On top of that, it rained during their
whole stay. Or so I recall. (Those not interested in learning more can
skip to paragraph 2.) It was shortly after that that Beatles records were
burned in Texan demonstrations, and other anti-Beatles demonstrations took
place; and not long after that that John said that stupid thing about
Jesus being less popular than they. That last bit wasn't important to
what comes next, but it does continue to set the stage.
That, and the tapes I have of their concerts here, is the sum total of
what I knew of The Beatles and Japan until I arrived here a little over a
month ago.
So you can imagine my surprise the first time I went into a store and
heard Beatles' music being played over the intercom. Not instrumentalized
covers, but the real thing. And not just one song... it was a selection
of songs from various albums. 1964-66 era stuff. As I wandered from
store to store on my first day here, about 75% of what I heard was
Beatles. 100% of what I heard was either Beatles or Japanese. "It must
be an anniversary of something," I thought to myself. Amazingly, the
trend continued at that department store (it's still a huge mall to me,
but they call it a department store) across the street, and it still does
today. What's *really* amazing, though, is that the trend isn't limited
to that store or this area at all. Everywhere I've gone, including
400-mile-distant Hiroshima, if there's music playing, odds are about
70/30 that the previous, current, or next song was/is/will be a Beatles
tune.
Well, *I* found it interesting anyway, being a bony-fidy Beatles fan since
7-February, 1964, when they did that first Ed Sullivan concert. I'd like
to know more about how that got turned around. There are so many things
I'd like to know.
What made me mention it, is that today in Akihabara the realization of all
of this finally hit me. I was standing in the middle of a stereo shop,
and various CD, MD, and other audio devices were filling the air with
their efforts, and I noticed that almost everything I heard, though they
were not in synch, was playing almost exclusive efforts of the Fab Four.
Anyway, although I'm just not much of a shopper, I did a lot of shopping
today. Nearly wore my shoes out (they'll make it till I get home J),
and actually enjoyed it this time. Shopping is a mindset thing. The
"Christmas rush" aspect also played into the ordeal because this is my
last opportunity to do that before I make a short visit to home. Prices
for electronics are mostly about like America, but there are some relative
deals. Prices for everything else? I don't have a good comparison
factor. I found a few things worthy of taking home with me... mostly from
the Omatesando area's "Oriental Bazaar," where they have stores
specializing in clothes, luggage and the like - and souvenirs.
I can confidently say that Oriental Bazaar has a combination of great and
terrible prices, and one has to be careful which shops one buys from.
There are antiques there that seemed reasonably priced (everything being
relative), and others that would probably make Bill Gaites take notice.
Or at least Ted Turner. I saw a great Minnie Mouse doll that dates back
to the mid-30's, was in fair to good condition, and was priced at about
¥170,000 (or about $1,500 US). Yowsie. (If anyone wants that, be sure to
send me a good credit card number. J) There were fountains priced at
over ¥1,000,000. I won't be buying any extra luggage for those things.
J
I'll switch to US$, since it's easier for most. There were silk kimonos,
priced at about $100, which I thought was fairly reasonable. Japanese
dolls with porcelain faces, feet and hands for anywhere from $35 to $150,
depending on size, and gadgets, ornaments, furniture ... pretty much
everything that isn't in Akihabara and some things that are. Some prices
I deemed outrageous, others I thought were OK (but what do I know?). A
"true" shopper, I'm convinced, could spend a week in that area alone and
still not see it all. Then there's Shin-Juku and about a dozen other
shoppers' areas. That's in case the first few don't kill you or your bank
account.
It was interesting to see the variety of offered goods, but by 5pm, having
been rained on myself, I decided that enough was enough, so I figured out
my return route and emerged into the subway system, found my way home
without error (I'm so proud), and relaxed in my room. For dinner, I had
that ke-tsu meal that I like so much.
Only two days remain before I'm to go to the States for a week. I've a
lot of packing and sorting to do before I leave and the "home schedule" is
a killer, so I won't promise any more journals before my return.