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.

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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.

 

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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

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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.

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Intro	September 26, 1999	October 1, 1999	October 6, 1999	November 10, 1999	December 23, 1999
August - September, 1999	September 28, 1999	October 2, 1999	October 14, 1999	November 12, 1999	January 1, 2000
September 20, 1999	September 29, 1999	October 3, 1999	October 28, 1999	December 4, 1999	Feb 19, 2000

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