2 months since I last posted. Anyhoo new profile pic and album from my recent Kuju trip. Thanks Sandy! (And to a lesser extent Rob for posting his pics from the day, thus reminding me to do the same).
P.S. I'll post more this weekend.
P.P.S. Make that 3 months. Thank goodness I'm not here in Japan to spread my awesome math skills.
Showing posts with label Travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Travel. Show all posts
6/13/2008
5/22/2007
Bah, lets finish this beast off...
It has been too long since I updated, but in defense I have been pretty busy at work. Where were we? Oh yes, day 3. We packed up, made a last trip to Akiba, got on the train and went home. Well, more things happened, like my trip to the gashapon toy shop for more otaku-memories (m4a1s for all my Gundams!), and as a souvenier a ticket stub from Akihabara Station.
Exhausted, we decided to nix the Nagasaki trip in favour of a more chill day downtown in Fukuoka, and the next day we were off to Beppu. Onsens galore, including the tourist trap "The Nine Hells" or whatever. De rigeur, but it was really a chance to walk around a small town. What better way to relax? Why an onsen of course! We found a pretty nice, large onsen and partook. I forget the name, but it featured this awesome "waterfall" bath, more a wading pool with several pipes high up on a wall hurling water down at you. If it sounds corny, it isn't. Let me tell you, this was one of the most relaxing experiences I have ever had. Like some sort of masseuse, kneading away at all the tension built up from the Shinkansen ride home. A note on the bullet train...never again! Next time I go to Tokyo, its airplane or bust.
Our trip home was eventful. We walked around for some 40 minutes or so, getting ourselves lost before we flagged down a taxi (AFAIK not normally done, but I'll attribute our ease to the presence of my friend) and headed back to the local station. Our longish trip back as interrupted a few stops away from home by some sort of Event at Hakata Station (notice the capital "E"). To this day I do not know what happened, but whatever it was, it caused our train to ride delay getting into Kokura (Kitakyushu City JR hub) by an hour, then an at least as long stop at Akama Station. Well enough of this shit, we decided. Jumping on a cab, we arrived home 2 hours and 20 minutes late and about $40 poorer. Oh well, at least we were home.
The next day, Ian was off to Kyoto and environs, which gave me some time to do some much needed housework. Ian returned 2 days later, and one last night in Fukuoka, with our last meal as an all-you-can-eat Korean BBQ, we capped off a very successful spring break.
Oh, last minute shenanigans. Ian almost missed his flight! My fault, as I underestimated how busy check in would be. Ian was through the security gate with some 5 minutes to spare :P
OK, so reflections? On Tokyo, I need to stop visiting and revisiting Akiba. But it's just so much damned fun, and it rekindled my interest in drawing. Beppu? Hmm, ok, onsens = really bad eczema. I had a month of hell after that, so no more for me.
Guess that wraps that up. As always, my photos.
Exhausted, we decided to nix the Nagasaki trip in favour of a more chill day downtown in Fukuoka, and the next day we were off to Beppu. Onsens galore, including the tourist trap "The Nine Hells" or whatever. De rigeur, but it was really a chance to walk around a small town. What better way to relax? Why an onsen of course! We found a pretty nice, large onsen and partook. I forget the name, but it featured this awesome "waterfall" bath, more a wading pool with several pipes high up on a wall hurling water down at you. If it sounds corny, it isn't. Let me tell you, this was one of the most relaxing experiences I have ever had. Like some sort of masseuse, kneading away at all the tension built up from the Shinkansen ride home. A note on the bullet train...never again! Next time I go to Tokyo, its airplane or bust.
Our trip home was eventful. We walked around for some 40 minutes or so, getting ourselves lost before we flagged down a taxi (AFAIK not normally done, but I'll attribute our ease to the presence of my friend) and headed back to the local station. Our longish trip back as interrupted a few stops away from home by some sort of Event at Hakata Station (notice the capital "E"). To this day I do not know what happened, but whatever it was, it caused our train to ride delay getting into Kokura (Kitakyushu City JR hub) by an hour, then an at least as long stop at Akama Station. Well enough of this shit, we decided. Jumping on a cab, we arrived home 2 hours and 20 minutes late and about $40 poorer. Oh well, at least we were home.
The next day, Ian was off to Kyoto and environs, which gave me some time to do some much needed housework. Ian returned 2 days later, and one last night in Fukuoka, with our last meal as an all-you-can-eat Korean BBQ, we capped off a very successful spring break.
Oh, last minute shenanigans. Ian almost missed his flight! My fault, as I underestimated how busy check in would be. Ian was through the security gate with some 5 minutes to spare :P
OK, so reflections? On Tokyo, I need to stop visiting and revisiting Akiba. But it's just so much damned fun, and it rekindled my interest in drawing. Beppu? Hmm, ok, onsens = really bad eczema. I had a month of hell after that, so no more for me.
Guess that wraps that up. As always, my photos.
4/02/2007
More culture than you can shake a stick at!
As always, pics at the bottom of the post.
Day three we were up bright and early...relatively speaking. We were out the door by about 10AM. By now, I was pretty confident about navigating the Tokyo Metro system, so we made our way down to Tokyo Tower. We did the whole tour, up to the Observation Platforms 1 and 2, and I snapped the requisite pics. Honestly, it was more of a tourist thing, de rigeur as a "tourist". Though the grandparents with all their grandkids in tow made the appropriate oohs and ahhs, Tokyo Tower, a copy of the Eiffel Tower, has nothing on good ol' CN. Still, I got an appreciative chuckle from my elevator mates when the elevator cable went ka-thunk. It's completely normal, or so the helpful recording told us. Oddly enough, when I cried out in mock dismay, "Oh no, we're all gonna die!", it was in English. I guess that "Oh shit!" moment is universal regardless of language.
While at the tower, I had been playing email tag with my cousin. Thanks to an early-ending workday, she volunteered to be a tour-guide for the rest of the day. Noon-time was fast approaching, but we had both decided the day before to head back to Akihabara to search for that mysterious souvenier which would represent our time there. In retrospect, we should have checked out another district of Tokyo. Oh well. There's comfort for me in the familiar, and we were getting pretty cozy with the district.
We lunched at Go Go Curry. Despite the name, the mascot featured a gorilla. Go Go Curry caters to rushed Tokyo salarymen-types, but for the 750 yen I paid, I got a helluva good chicken-cutlet curry. The food-ticket vending machine however said it was econo-sized, so I'm scared to see what a jumbo-size looked like. It's odd, because I remember laughing when Ian told me that his friends had egged him on about how little he would eat here in Japan. If that was true, I'd be a twig by now.
We had about an hour and a half in Akihabara, where I managed to find one of the things I had come to Tokyo to find: a spare mag for my Marushin 1911 TRP. Ian managed to fill out some more of his list of things to find, but soon it was time to meet up with my cousin.
We headed out to Ryogoku Station. There, even from the platform, we were able to spy the gigantic Tokyo Edo Museum. Linking up with my cousin, we toured the museum. Though I had been skeptical about it, the museum was a lot of fun, and it was here that I would take the bulk of my pictures. I think it must have been all the interactive displays, as well as the overall environment, a welcome cry from the more sterile, and hence boring, Kyushu National Museum. We were there for a couple of hours, and in the end we visited the souvenier shop, where I got my omiyage (souveniers I am essentially required by Japanese custom to buy for the staff at school), as well as 3 prints which I would turn into a pseudo-triptych now adorning my wall at home.
With the sun starting its decline, the museum closing up, and us all sort of shopped out, what were we to do? My cousin suggested Ueno Park, to sit amongst the cherry trees, watching the blossoms and drinking some sake. It sounded wonderful to us, so off we went.
Ueno Park was a sort of urban oasis. The cherry blossoms, which down in Fukuoka were only starting to bloom thanks to the messed up weather we've been having (normally, they follow the jetstream and bloom south to north in orderly progression), covered nearly every tree. As the sun began to set the red lanterns came on, and we sat in a rosey-orange sea of cherry-viewing parties, with cups of heated sake to warm our hands.
It was soon dark, and despite this, the park was getting more crowded. We decided to duck out and find a place to eat. The last things on our itinerary were some sort of traditional Japanese dinner, then some karaoke. Having no real idea what that traditional dinner would be, we started to walk through the famous Ameyayakocho Market. I was delighted to find a donair vendor, the closest I think I may come to in Japan for Mediterranean food. Yet we were unable to think of anything to eat otherwise. Leaving the Market, we came out to one of the main roads, where we spied an okonomiyaki restaurant. OK, so it wasn't authentic Tokyo cuisine, but it was Japanese. We were treated to what was honestly a mediochre dining experience, and it wasn't until we were at the karaoke pub that we realized we should have just grabbed food there.
Oh well, on to singing. Karaoke was a mixed bag, mostly because our tastes in music varied so much. My cousin and I were a little closer matched, but she knows songs more popular in recent years, which I am only just beginning to discover. Ian on the other hand seemed to prefer oldies and classic rock, which I have little knowledge of. I stuck to my usual repertoire, so in the end we were just singing our own tunes.
It was a sort of a melancholy way to end the evening, but in the balance it was oddly fitting. Tomorrow we would be leaving busy Tokyo, so for now, it was time to get back to the hotel.
Pics here.
Day three we were up bright and early...relatively speaking. We were out the door by about 10AM. By now, I was pretty confident about navigating the Tokyo Metro system, so we made our way down to Tokyo Tower. We did the whole tour, up to the Observation Platforms 1 and 2, and I snapped the requisite pics. Honestly, it was more of a tourist thing, de rigeur as a "tourist". Though the grandparents with all their grandkids in tow made the appropriate oohs and ahhs, Tokyo Tower, a copy of the Eiffel Tower, has nothing on good ol' CN. Still, I got an appreciative chuckle from my elevator mates when the elevator cable went ka-thunk. It's completely normal, or so the helpful recording told us. Oddly enough, when I cried out in mock dismay, "Oh no, we're all gonna die!", it was in English. I guess that "Oh shit!" moment is universal regardless of language.
While at the tower, I had been playing email tag with my cousin. Thanks to an early-ending workday, she volunteered to be a tour-guide for the rest of the day. Noon-time was fast approaching, but we had both decided the day before to head back to Akihabara to search for that mysterious souvenier which would represent our time there. In retrospect, we should have checked out another district of Tokyo. Oh well. There's comfort for me in the familiar, and we were getting pretty cozy with the district.
We lunched at Go Go Curry. Despite the name, the mascot featured a gorilla. Go Go Curry caters to rushed Tokyo salarymen-types, but for the 750 yen I paid, I got a helluva good chicken-cutlet curry. The food-ticket vending machine however said it was econo-sized, so I'm scared to see what a jumbo-size looked like. It's odd, because I remember laughing when Ian told me that his friends had egged him on about how little he would eat here in Japan. If that was true, I'd be a twig by now.
We had about an hour and a half in Akihabara, where I managed to find one of the things I had come to Tokyo to find: a spare mag for my Marushin 1911 TRP. Ian managed to fill out some more of his list of things to find, but soon it was time to meet up with my cousin.
We headed out to Ryogoku Station. There, even from the platform, we were able to spy the gigantic Tokyo Edo Museum. Linking up with my cousin, we toured the museum. Though I had been skeptical about it, the museum was a lot of fun, and it was here that I would take the bulk of my pictures. I think it must have been all the interactive displays, as well as the overall environment, a welcome cry from the more sterile, and hence boring, Kyushu National Museum. We were there for a couple of hours, and in the end we visited the souvenier shop, where I got my omiyage (souveniers I am essentially required by Japanese custom to buy for the staff at school), as well as 3 prints which I would turn into a pseudo-triptych now adorning my wall at home.
With the sun starting its decline, the museum closing up, and us all sort of shopped out, what were we to do? My cousin suggested Ueno Park, to sit amongst the cherry trees, watching the blossoms and drinking some sake. It sounded wonderful to us, so off we went.
Ueno Park was a sort of urban oasis. The cherry blossoms, which down in Fukuoka were only starting to bloom thanks to the messed up weather we've been having (normally, they follow the jetstream and bloom south to north in orderly progression), covered nearly every tree. As the sun began to set the red lanterns came on, and we sat in a rosey-orange sea of cherry-viewing parties, with cups of heated sake to warm our hands.
It was soon dark, and despite this, the park was getting more crowded. We decided to duck out and find a place to eat. The last things on our itinerary were some sort of traditional Japanese dinner, then some karaoke. Having no real idea what that traditional dinner would be, we started to walk through the famous Ameyayakocho Market. I was delighted to find a donair vendor, the closest I think I may come to in Japan for Mediterranean food. Yet we were unable to think of anything to eat otherwise. Leaving the Market, we came out to one of the main roads, where we spied an okonomiyaki restaurant. OK, so it wasn't authentic Tokyo cuisine, but it was Japanese. We were treated to what was honestly a mediochre dining experience, and it wasn't until we were at the karaoke pub that we realized we should have just grabbed food there.
Oh well, on to singing. Karaoke was a mixed bag, mostly because our tastes in music varied so much. My cousin and I were a little closer matched, but she knows songs more popular in recent years, which I am only just beginning to discover. Ian on the other hand seemed to prefer oldies and classic rock, which I have little knowledge of. I stuck to my usual repertoire, so in the end we were just singing our own tunes.
It was a sort of a melancholy way to end the evening, but in the balance it was oddly fitting. Tomorrow we would be leaving busy Tokyo, so for now, it was time to get back to the hotel.
Pics here.
4/01/2007
Akihabara Redux
Links once again to the pics I snapped at the bottom of this post. Pics now sorted by day.
The next morning we were up at the crack of noon. Thanks to a combination of the heat and the down duvet supplied to each bed, I managed to only get about 4 hours of shuteye. Waking up bleary-eyed, we decided to head out to the Imperial Palace, nominally a 10 minute walk from our hotel, but in reality a trip that took us 25 minutes as I searched for a convenient store for a cell-phone recharger that uses standard AAs. With my phone back up and being charged (albeit slowly), we headed into the Palace grounds proper.
The Imperial Palace grounds are huge. While I don't know the exact size, it was certainly enough to be a district of Tokyo in and of its own. A 10x10 city block area might be an exaggeration, but not by much. There wasn't a whole lot to see though, other than your usual tourist trappings. Beautiful trees, interesting looking buildings, the massive walls and ramparts, and the ruins of the old Edo donjon. OK, but only fun in the sense that playing tourist is fun. It was a good wind-down to our previous night, and walking around was a relaxing experience.
Things picked up when Jon and his buddies showed up, as things inevitably do when a bunch of young guys go anywhere. We revisited some of the places Ian and I had gone to, but soon we were off, back to Akihabara.
Despite my initial impressions, I was keen to head back there. After all, there is nary the geek or otaku that can resist the call of such a place, and I qualify under both columns. Our intention was to find one the shrines of otakudom, the maid cafe, and armed with fliers and maps in hand, we set off. The first place we checked (porn-shops not-withstanding), was an over-heated bust. Our next stop seemed more promising, but it was small and we would have needed to break our group up, and still wait for a while for seating. We left our names and decided to check elsewhere. We, or at least 4 out of the 6 of us, ended up at a place call Cos-cha. I enjoyed it on a sort of basic level as an experience in Akihabara, but I as foreigners, the maid/waitresses were a little intimidated. Add to that our complete inexperience with the whole thing, we ultimately were a little disappointed...until the show.
While all we did was sit and have some drinks and oggle a couple of the maids, some of the more experienced Otaku (note the capital "O", for they were very obviously uber-otakus, made up from parts of lesser otaku like myself) decided to partake of the pancake eating game. This attracted the attention of all the cafe. The rules were simple. One of the maids and the customer face off in a pancake eating contest. If the customer can eat 2 pancakes faster than the maid can eat one, then the customer wins and gets something (I missed what the actual prize was), and the other patrons of the cafe can get a picture with the losing maid, a priviledge normally paid for. However, if the maid wins, the customer is punished. Easy-peasy lemon-squeezy, right?
WRONG!
Admittedly, the guy tried hard. He lost by one or two bites, but when he got up, his cheeks were definitely channeling some chipmunk. The maid on the other hand, somehow managed to combine pancake-gorging with dainty elegance. Must be a maid secret power. By this time, we had recieved a call from the other cafe, and we were settling up. Most of us were looking back at the antics going on with the losing customer and the maid with sort of casual interest, mostly because there were making some noise. Suddenly, we were treated to perhaps the funniest sight of my Tokyo experience:
As punishment for losing the pancake game, the maid got to BITCH-SLAP the customer!!!
That got a rise out of the rest of the customers, as well as the gaijin about to leave. I don't know if there was some pent-up aggression behind that slap, but it was loud.
We headed around the corner to the other maid cafe, Mefle. By this time, Jon and crew had to jet, so it was up to Ian and I to troop on. Ian was a bit reluctant, but I was determined to try at least one more place. We made out way to the cafe, and were treated to a much more authentic experience. At the risk of sounding too lecherous, I enjoyed myself and have pics to prove it.
Afterwards, having completed that holiest of rituals, we started to explore Akihabara with renewed vigour. For me, that meant hitting up some of the local hobby stores. While I didn't find what I had come to look for, I ended up with some neat stuff to make my Marui M4 more "tacticool", while Ian managed to flesh out his soundtrack collection even more. As night fell, we headed back to the hotel.
It was not for sleep though, at least not yet. Tired as we were, the night was still young. So after a brief rest at the hotel, we searched out a local izakaya (bar). After 2 jumbo-sized beers, and some good izakaya-chow, we ended the night full and slightly sauced. I'll admit that the otaku in me was still ultimately unsatisfied with my foray in Akihabara, and the beer allowed me to voice my conviction to return there and buy something outstandly geeky, a souveneir par excellence of my time in otaku-Mecca. For now though, we called it a night relativly early, determined to get the most out of our last day...
Pictures Here.
The next morning we were up at the crack of noon. Thanks to a combination of the heat and the down duvet supplied to each bed, I managed to only get about 4 hours of shuteye. Waking up bleary-eyed, we decided to head out to the Imperial Palace, nominally a 10 minute walk from our hotel, but in reality a trip that took us 25 minutes as I searched for a convenient store for a cell-phone recharger that uses standard AAs. With my phone back up and being charged (albeit slowly), we headed into the Palace grounds proper.
The Imperial Palace grounds are huge. While I don't know the exact size, it was certainly enough to be a district of Tokyo in and of its own. A 10x10 city block area might be an exaggeration, but not by much. There wasn't a whole lot to see though, other than your usual tourist trappings. Beautiful trees, interesting looking buildings, the massive walls and ramparts, and the ruins of the old Edo donjon. OK, but only fun in the sense that playing tourist is fun. It was a good wind-down to our previous night, and walking around was a relaxing experience.
Things picked up when Jon and his buddies showed up, as things inevitably do when a bunch of young guys go anywhere. We revisited some of the places Ian and I had gone to, but soon we were off, back to Akihabara.
Despite my initial impressions, I was keen to head back there. After all, there is nary the geek or otaku that can resist the call of such a place, and I qualify under both columns. Our intention was to find one the shrines of otakudom, the maid cafe, and armed with fliers and maps in hand, we set off. The first place we checked (porn-shops not-withstanding), was an over-heated bust. Our next stop seemed more promising, but it was small and we would have needed to break our group up, and still wait for a while for seating. We left our names and decided to check elsewhere. We, or at least 4 out of the 6 of us, ended up at a place call Cos-cha. I enjoyed it on a sort of basic level as an experience in Akihabara, but I as foreigners, the maid/waitresses were a little intimidated. Add to that our complete inexperience with the whole thing, we ultimately were a little disappointed...until the show.
While all we did was sit and have some drinks and oggle a couple of the maids, some of the more experienced Otaku (note the capital "O", for they were very obviously uber-otakus, made up from parts of lesser otaku like myself) decided to partake of the pancake eating game. This attracted the attention of all the cafe. The rules were simple. One of the maids and the customer face off in a pancake eating contest. If the customer can eat 2 pancakes faster than the maid can eat one, then the customer wins and gets something (I missed what the actual prize was), and the other patrons of the cafe can get a picture with the losing maid, a priviledge normally paid for. However, if the maid wins, the customer is punished. Easy-peasy lemon-squeezy, right?
WRONG!
Admittedly, the guy tried hard. He lost by one or two bites, but when he got up, his cheeks were definitely channeling some chipmunk. The maid on the other hand, somehow managed to combine pancake-gorging with dainty elegance. Must be a maid secret power. By this time, we had recieved a call from the other cafe, and we were settling up. Most of us were looking back at the antics going on with the losing customer and the maid with sort of casual interest, mostly because there were making some noise. Suddenly, we were treated to perhaps the funniest sight of my Tokyo experience:
As punishment for losing the pancake game, the maid got to BITCH-SLAP the customer!!!
That got a rise out of the rest of the customers, as well as the gaijin about to leave. I don't know if there was some pent-up aggression behind that slap, but it was loud.
We headed around the corner to the other maid cafe, Mefle. By this time, Jon and crew had to jet, so it was up to Ian and I to troop on. Ian was a bit reluctant, but I was determined to try at least one more place. We made out way to the cafe, and were treated to a much more authentic experience. At the risk of sounding too lecherous, I enjoyed myself and have pics to prove it.
Afterwards, having completed that holiest of rituals, we started to explore Akihabara with renewed vigour. For me, that meant hitting up some of the local hobby stores. While I didn't find what I had come to look for, I ended up with some neat stuff to make my Marui M4 more "tacticool", while Ian managed to flesh out his soundtrack collection even more. As night fell, we headed back to the hotel.
It was not for sleep though, at least not yet. Tired as we were, the night was still young. So after a brief rest at the hotel, we searched out a local izakaya (bar). After 2 jumbo-sized beers, and some good izakaya-chow, we ended the night full and slightly sauced. I'll admit that the otaku in me was still ultimately unsatisfied with my foray in Akihabara, and the beer allowed me to voice my conviction to return there and buy something outstandly geeky, a souveneir par excellence of my time in otaku-Mecca. For now though, we called it a night relativly early, determined to get the most out of our last day...
Pictures Here.
3/30/2007
Tokyo the Mad...
A link to the pics I snapped is at the bottom of the post.
We set out Monday morning bright and early. The weather was beautiful, and laden with our packs, we headed into the city. Soon we were off on our way to Tokyo via the Hikari Railstar, the not quite fastest Shinkansen Bullet Train. I sorely underestimated how tiring rail travel would be, and soon the novelty of the train wore off. We got off at Shin-Osaka, transfering trains for the second leg of our trip to Tokyo. After a grueling 6 hours, we arrived ready to get to our hotel and start exploring the city. Only as we watched mile after mile of city pass by our window did we truly start to grasp just how big Tokyo really is.
Tired, but excited, we left the train to the hell that is Tokyo Station. I imagine that a near-future Distopian world would closely approximate Tokyo Station. Not the nice, orderly, fascist world inhabited by clone-like baldies in hospital whites eating Soylent Green day-in and out, but rather the underworld where the underclass live. Tokyo Station was a multi-story building sprawling out in all directions, with people from all over the place hurrying about in some sort of Brownian-model chaos. Perhaps it was sheer stubbornness, but I was determined to find my way out. Sadly, after 40 minutes I was defeated, and asked an information booth how to get to the subway station near our hotel.
While the subway was another adventure that would take a few trips on for us to get used to, we managed to arrive at the Sakura Hotel with little fanfare. Checking in, we were greeted with a fairly nice place, decidedly budget but well worth what we were paying. At $40 a night per person, we had a clean, air-conditioned, and surprisingly roomly place to bunk down for the night. But it was still only about 4pm, and so after a consultation with my friend Jon, also by coincidence in Tokyo with his friends, as well my cousin Miwa, a 10-year resident of the megalopolis, we decided to head to Akihabara, Mecca of geeks and otaku the world over.
My first impression was that of being underwhelmed. Somehow, I imagined a more densely packed, almost European-style street market (local Toronto readers think: Kensington Market) filled with all manner of maid and cosplayers, reeking of geek-sweat and ionized air from all the electricity. Instead, what awaited us was what was at first-glance a built-up shopping area that
catered to the anime-oriented. After a while, we headed for trendy Shibuya, to meet up with my cousin and Jon.
Exiting Shibuya station at the famous Hachiko exit, we were greeted by a throng of young Tokyo-ites, all doing the same as us and using the famous dog-statue of Hachiko as a meeting place. The story of the dog goes that the dog would always wait at the train station exit for her master. One day, here master didn't return (I don't recall the reason why, but war seems likely). Hachiko waited and waited, every day, eventually dying from old age. This story is the basis of one of the more touching Futurama episodes.
After we all managed to meet up, we headed for Tucanos, a Brazilian eatery researched by Jon. There, I ate more meat than I thought possible. Vegitarians, Vegans, Jainites, and Animal Activists may want to skip looking at the picture I took of one side of beef. All others who enjoy the consumption of rump-roast, tenderloin, top sirloin, ribs, sausages, wings, and other parts of the meat portion of the food pyramids should make way to Tucanos to indulge their carnivorous habits.
After dinner, we headed to a bowling alley. An awesome place lit with black-light, I played my first ever game of 10-pin. Fun times were had by all, but soon exhaustion caught up with us at we called it a night. Travel back to the hotel was interesting, with drunk salarymen abound. We arrived back at the hotel just after 1am, and fell into fitful sleep thanks to my inadvertently turning on the heat.
Pictures here.
We set out Monday morning bright and early. The weather was beautiful, and laden with our packs, we headed into the city. Soon we were off on our way to Tokyo via the Hikari Railstar, the not quite fastest Shinkansen Bullet Train. I sorely underestimated how tiring rail travel would be, and soon the novelty of the train wore off. We got off at Shin-Osaka, transfering trains for the second leg of our trip to Tokyo. After a grueling 6 hours, we arrived ready to get to our hotel and start exploring the city. Only as we watched mile after mile of city pass by our window did we truly start to grasp just how big Tokyo really is.
Tired, but excited, we left the train to the hell that is Tokyo Station. I imagine that a near-future Distopian world would closely approximate Tokyo Station. Not the nice, orderly, fascist world inhabited by clone-like baldies in hospital whites eating Soylent Green day-in and out, but rather the underworld where the underclass live. Tokyo Station was a multi-story building sprawling out in all directions, with people from all over the place hurrying about in some sort of Brownian-model chaos. Perhaps it was sheer stubbornness, but I was determined to find my way out. Sadly, after 40 minutes I was defeated, and asked an information booth how to get to the subway station near our hotel.
While the subway was another adventure that would take a few trips on for us to get used to, we managed to arrive at the Sakura Hotel with little fanfare. Checking in, we were greeted with a fairly nice place, decidedly budget but well worth what we were paying. At $40 a night per person, we had a clean, air-conditioned, and surprisingly roomly place to bunk down for the night. But it was still only about 4pm, and so after a consultation with my friend Jon, also by coincidence in Tokyo with his friends, as well my cousin Miwa, a 10-year resident of the megalopolis, we decided to head to Akihabara, Mecca of geeks and otaku the world over.
My first impression was that of being underwhelmed. Somehow, I imagined a more densely packed, almost European-style street market (local Toronto readers think: Kensington Market) filled with all manner of maid and cosplayers, reeking of geek-sweat and ionized air from all the electricity. Instead, what awaited us was what was at first-glance a built-up shopping area that
catered to the anime-oriented. After a while, we headed for trendy Shibuya, to meet up with my cousin and Jon.
Exiting Shibuya station at the famous Hachiko exit, we were greeted by a throng of young Tokyo-ites, all doing the same as us and using the famous dog-statue of Hachiko as a meeting place. The story of the dog goes that the dog would always wait at the train station exit for her master. One day, here master didn't return (I don't recall the reason why, but war seems likely). Hachiko waited and waited, every day, eventually dying from old age. This story is the basis of one of the more touching Futurama episodes.
After we all managed to meet up, we headed for Tucanos, a Brazilian eatery researched by Jon. There, I ate more meat than I thought possible. Vegitarians, Vegans, Jainites, and Animal Activists may want to skip looking at the picture I took of one side of beef. All others who enjoy the consumption of rump-roast, tenderloin, top sirloin, ribs, sausages, wings, and other parts of the meat portion of the food pyramids should make way to Tucanos to indulge their carnivorous habits.
After dinner, we headed to a bowling alley. An awesome place lit with black-light, I played my first ever game of 10-pin. Fun times were had by all, but soon exhaustion caught up with us at we called it a night. Travel back to the hotel was interesting, with drunk salarymen abound. We arrived back at the hotel just after 1am, and fell into fitful sleep thanks to my inadvertently turning on the heat.
Pictures here.
3/25/2007
Spring Break Report 2: Tenjin
Unlike yesterday, the weather was cooperating beautifully today. Sunny, almost hot without the breeze, it was a perfect day for exploring Fukuoka's Central Ward. After a very early delivery by Kuroneko Yamato, delivering a care package brought from Canada by my dad, and sent to me from my mother, I was delighted to recieve 3 new dress shirts, 2 new ties, a new hoodie, an old hoodie, and other sundry items. So very wicked.
We didn't actually leave until about 11am. Arriving in Tenjin, we first checked out Rainbow Plaza, a tourism office made especially for foreigners, grabbing a couple of brochures before grabbing some lunch. Then it was off to the ruins of old Fukuoka Castle. We walked there, a good 25 minutes or so. At first, we were underwhelmed, as all that we could see was 2 walls, shelter two a couple of bums. Concluding that there must be more, we wandered around until we found a gallery housing the excavation site of the Korokan, where Japanese lords parlayed with foreign emissaries.
By then we realized that there was far more to the ruins of Fukuoka Castle. The terraced walls rose just beyond the Korokan. We braved dangerous steps to reach the top, which rewarded us with a fantastic view of the city, which I captured on my phone, and a fantastic view of a pair of fine asses, which I leave to readers imagination.
The view, not the asses.
We then headed back to Tenjin, another long trek. We stopped first by SWAT, the local airsoft gun store, then to a variety of stores in Tenjin. We ended the evening with at Ippudou, one the more famous ramen restaurants in Fukuoka, where we filled ourselves with one of Hakata's finest cuisines.
By the time we got home, we where knackered. Packing is complete, and we have a 6am wake-up for our trip to Tokyo tomorrow. Can't wait.
We didn't actually leave until about 11am. Arriving in Tenjin, we first checked out Rainbow Plaza, a tourism office made especially for foreigners, grabbing a couple of brochures before grabbing some lunch. Then it was off to the ruins of old Fukuoka Castle. We walked there, a good 25 minutes or so. At first, we were underwhelmed, as all that we could see was 2 walls, shelter two a couple of bums. Concluding that there must be more, we wandered around until we found a gallery housing the excavation site of the Korokan, where Japanese lords parlayed with foreign emissaries.
By then we realized that there was far more to the ruins of Fukuoka Castle. The terraced walls rose just beyond the Korokan. We braved dangerous steps to reach the top, which rewarded us with a fantastic view of the city, which I captured on my phone, and a fantastic view of a pair of fine asses, which I leave to readers imagination.
The view, not the asses.
We then headed back to Tenjin, another long trek. We stopped first by SWAT, the local airsoft gun store, then to a variety of stores in Tenjin. We ended the evening with at Ippudou, one the more famous ramen restaurants in Fukuoka, where we filled ourselves with one of Hakata's finest cuisines.
By the time we got home, we where knackered. Packing is complete, and we have a 6am wake-up for our trip to Tokyo tomorrow. Can't wait.
3/24/2007
Spring Break Report 1: Cultural Fukuoka
As some of my readers may know, Ian made the trip across the pond to visit me in J-Land. And so marks the beginning of our 2-week long oddyssey.
Despite horridly uncooperative weather, and despite our best efforts, we managed to get in quite a bit of culture today. The day started off at good ol' Hakata Station, where I met my dad, also coincidentally in Japan. We secured Ian's Rail Pass, and our tickets to Tokyo for Monday, and then sat down to a hearty brunch.
Next stop: Yodobashi Camera. Long-time readers will recognize this name from many moons ago, from my previous trip to Japan 3 years ago. While we didn't pick anything of significance up, we did spend some time goofing off at the game center on the top floor. But enough of that. Off for some culture.
We travelled by subway to Hakozaki Shrine, one of the big three in Fukuoka Prefecture along with Dazaifu and Miyajidake. It was interesting, for me mostly because I was able to update my charm. Unfortunately, the facade of the shrine seems to be undergoing restoration. So today, it was shrouded in some sort of cloth, precluding any nice pictures. The weather was cooperative during out visit to the shrine, as well as our visit to the nearby Buddhist Temple, but as we left the temple, the rain picked up pace. We hurried back to the subway station, stubbornly refusing to put our hoods up.
We encountered this strange stone, inscribed with lyrics. Didn't check the lyrics, but it's kinda cool...
Next stop, Dazaifu, home of the Kyushu National Museum. By the time we got out of the station, the rain was a steady downpour. Leaving Dazaifu Station places you almost directly next to the shrine grounds, which is itself located next to the museum. After wandering around the shrine, we finally found the museum.
Then long hallway leading to the museum proper, with the occasionally pulsing light which made me feel like I should launch from a Viper MkII...
It is hard to explain just how large the museum is. Though I have never been inside a airplane hangar, this was the immediate impression I got. The museum is effectively one big room, which houses all the exhibits. Being shown now is an archeological history of Japan. As Ian smartly pointed out, it's almost inconceivable to comprehend numbers like 1500 BC, except on an academic level. For a country like Canada, with a history measured in centuries, it's humbling to see artifacts from as old as 90,000 years ago (a tree stump discovered and dated, burned by a pyroclastic flow that incinerated the Dazaifu area up to almost Hakata Bay 90,000 years ago).
The roof of the museum must be at least 6 stories high, enough to contain the 5-story high building pictured here...
By the time we got out, it was about 4pm, and raining very hard. We trekked back to the station, our shoes and pants soaked from the knees down. Thankfully, we caught the special express, which bypasses all but 1 station on the way back to downtown Fukuoka. From there, it was a taxi ride to fabulous Canal City.
While not particularly "cultural", at least not in the traditional sense, it was fruitful for me as I got to update my wallet. I bought a new Porter wallet, fairly similar to my old one, but a but smaller.
The store I bought it from however had an unfortunate Engrish name...
We wandered the mall a bit before heading back home. Dinner was order-in pizza, my first time since arriving in Japan.
Tomorrow: Tenjin.
Despite horridly uncooperative weather, and despite our best efforts, we managed to get in quite a bit of culture today. The day started off at good ol' Hakata Station, where I met my dad, also coincidentally in Japan. We secured Ian's Rail Pass, and our tickets to Tokyo for Monday, and then sat down to a hearty brunch.
Next stop: Yodobashi Camera. Long-time readers will recognize this name from many moons ago, from my previous trip to Japan 3 years ago. While we didn't pick anything of significance up, we did spend some time goofing off at the game center on the top floor. But enough of that. Off for some culture.
We travelled by subway to Hakozaki Shrine, one of the big three in Fukuoka Prefecture along with Dazaifu and Miyajidake. It was interesting, for me mostly because I was able to update my charm. Unfortunately, the facade of the shrine seems to be undergoing restoration. So today, it was shrouded in some sort of cloth, precluding any nice pictures. The weather was cooperative during out visit to the shrine, as well as our visit to the nearby Buddhist Temple, but as we left the temple, the rain picked up pace. We hurried back to the subway station, stubbornly refusing to put our hoods up.
We encountered this strange stone, inscribed with lyrics. Didn't check the lyrics, but it's kinda cool...
Next stop, Dazaifu, home of the Kyushu National Museum. By the time we got out of the station, the rain was a steady downpour. Leaving Dazaifu Station places you almost directly next to the shrine grounds, which is itself located next to the museum. After wandering around the shrine, we finally found the museum.
Then long hallway leading to the museum proper, with the occasionally pulsing light which made me feel like I should launch from a Viper MkII...
It is hard to explain just how large the museum is. Though I have never been inside a airplane hangar, this was the immediate impression I got. The museum is effectively one big room, which houses all the exhibits. Being shown now is an archeological history of Japan. As Ian smartly pointed out, it's almost inconceivable to comprehend numbers like 1500 BC, except on an academic level. For a country like Canada, with a history measured in centuries, it's humbling to see artifacts from as old as 90,000 years ago (a tree stump discovered and dated, burned by a pyroclastic flow that incinerated the Dazaifu area up to almost Hakata Bay 90,000 years ago).
The roof of the museum must be at least 6 stories high, enough to contain the 5-story high building pictured here...
By the time we got out, it was about 4pm, and raining very hard. We trekked back to the station, our shoes and pants soaked from the knees down. Thankfully, we caught the special express, which bypasses all but 1 station on the way back to downtown Fukuoka. From there, it was a taxi ride to fabulous Canal City.
While not particularly "cultural", at least not in the traditional sense, it was fruitful for me as I got to update my wallet. I bought a new Porter wallet, fairly similar to my old one, but a but smaller.
The store I bought it from however had an unfortunate Engrish name...
We wandered the mall a bit before heading back home. Dinner was order-in pizza, my first time since arriving in Japan.
Tomorrow: Tenjin.
2/19/2007
Mike's Excellent Seoul Adventure
Walking. Eating. Shopping.
That, in a nutshell, is what I did for 2 days and 2 nights in Seoul. Last weekend, my mother, her cousin, and I went to Korea. With only 2 days, we were only able to explore the Myong-dong district, a hip, young shopping area peopled by as many foreigners as natives.
Seoul is only an hour away by plane from Fukuoka, but being an international flight, we were still treated to an airline dinner. I was asleep going, and judging by the meal coming back, I didn't miss much. Besides, food in-country is what I was looking forward to.
We landed in Korea at what seemed like the other side of Incheon International, and we were rolling at least 15 minutes on the ground. Impressive if you consider that taxiing to and from runways made up at least 20% of the time we were planed.
Arrival, otherwise proceeded smoothly and soon we were on our way to the Westin via shuttlebus. I noticed 3 things almost immediately. First, people drive on the right side of the road, figuratively and literally. Second, the highways and streets are wide and spacious, an almost welcome sight compared to the narrow deathtraps that are Japanese streets. Last, there were an inordinate number of cars parked on the shoulders of the highway. For what reason I couldn't fathom, but I saw one car virtually blocking an offramp. At one point, I'm sure I saw a food stand, doing business on the side of the elevated highway. All of this seemed foolish to me, but in Seoul it was business as usual.
The Westin was very posh, and the room we were in a very nice reminder of the Canadian essentials I miss in Japan; faucets that run hot water, stand-up showers, central heating, and wall insulation. Sadly, Seoul was pretty warm (about 3-10 degrees C), so I couldn't enjoy the benefits of modern construction techniques. Instead, we actually ended up sleeping with the windows open a crack and the heating turned down to 15 degrees.
Dinner that night was at a ma & pa joint, with wickedly delicious kalbee, fried-pork, and seafood-nabe (hot pot). Even my mother, normally adverse to meat, got in to a little kalbee action. The walls of the restaurant were covered in polariods of other satisfied customers, and we gladly added our own mugs to their collection. It will be fun to go back one day and find that picture.
We wandered around, soaking in the atmosphere. Being Lunar New Years Eve, many stores were closing up early, but we managed to snag a small truck selling little golden pigs, famous in Korea and those in the know for bringing good luck.
After we returned to our hotel, filled with ice-cream and kim-chee (not in that order), we ended up collapsing into sleep at about 2am. We'd be up in about 5 hours.
Despite the short sleep time, I felt pretty good for someone more-or-less constantly on the go for the last 2 weeks. Brekkie was at the hotel's Executive Lounge (thanks dad, for booking us as Exec club members), and soon enough we were out on the streets of Myong-dong again. First stop was the Lotte duty free shop next door, where I managed to get a fair chunk of my souveneir shopping done. You couldn't turn around without smacking into a Japanese person there.
After Lotte was Myong-dong proper, and I was surprised to see so many American chains there. Smoothie King (is this American?), Starbucks, Krispy Kreme, Pizza Hut, McDonald's, and my personal slice of heaven, Burger King. I indulged my Whopper cravings later that night (and the next day), but for now it was off to find lunch.
Lunch was a bit of an ordeal, as we got ourselves a little lost and overshot the restaurant by about 6 blocks. A quick consultation of the map had us back on track, but by then my mother, no longer quite the spring chicken, was pretty close to collapse. Part of the wonder of Seoul is the seeming lack of crosswalks. I'm not sure if this is a phenomenon restricted just to just the Myong-dong district, or whether Korea is a nation of anti-crosswalk-ites, but crossing the street involved going downstairs to subway level, to a pathway lined with shops, and climbing back up. It seemed that many, if not all, the underground passage ways were interconnected, creating a large super network of underground passages. I can only think of two possibilities for this odd construction. One is the fact that Seoul is a sort of winter city. No snow when we were there, but perhaps on colder days people just stay underground. The other possibility is that they are ad hoc bunkers, in case ol' Kim Jong Il decides to start lobbing in arty. I seem to recall reading that Seoul is within range of North Korea's artillery.
We finally found our restaurant, and we were treated to a sort of chicken stew/gruel. I forget what it was called, (something like samgeta, but I'm working off a Japanese translation) but it was very tasty. I think, however, we enjoyed the simple act of sitting after our long trek more than anything else.
Following lunch, we wandered past a famous eyeglass store, and on a lark we decided to all make new glasses. I am pleased to say that my new glasses suit me very well, better in fact than my old ones. I am sadly to say that they also cost about 1/8 of my old glasses. At least I've got a REALLY nice set of back ups.
After we made our glasses, it was to the nearest department store, Shingekai. It was a very nice store, and while I was there I picked up a small North Face duffelbag, and a pair of Timberland loafers. After about an hour we headed back for our glasses (20 minutes a pop to make), and then wandered the streets of Myong-dong again, stopping in a variety of shops. A lot of the time was spent trying to find Krispy Kreme, which took some awesome 40 minutes or so due to us not knowing were to go, and by the time we got there, we just had the free donuts and just bought coffee before heading back to the hotel.
After a bit of rest, we headed out again, this time to a nearby restaurant that specialized in chi-gu. What that is I'm not sure, but it basically seems like a variation on rice-gruel. Good food, though we were confused at first on how to eat it.
Tired as hell, we headed back after dinner to turn in early, and all of us lay sort of comatose at one point or another before mustering the energy to bath. Our early night saw us asleep by 11pm.
The next day I felt the tiredness overwhelm me, and I was asleep until about 10am. By then, my mother and her cousin had had breakfast, and I woke up soon after and got ready to check out and go for lunch. Thanks to my new duffel I got rid of my boots and switch to my infitely more comfortably new loafers, and we wandered around a quiet, Japanese tourist filled Myong-dong. Most of the stores were closed, and would be until 11 or 12, but we managed to scope out a likely lunch venue. We then hurried back, checked out and settled our bill, and headed back for lunch. Lunch was delicious bulgogi, but a bit rushed as were on the clock for the airport limosine bus. We hurried back, me with a Whopper in hand, and made it back with about 7 minutes to spare.
The bus ride back to Incheon, about an hour, was quiet and a nice chance for us to unwind. There was however, one last drama for us to overcome. While my mother's cousin, of course a Japanese citizen, and myself, a non-permanent resident of Japan, had no problems procuring our boarding passes, my mother, who is neither of these couldn't be issued one until she presented proof that she had a flight out of Japan.
Everyone was very nice, and the delay only took up the time required to explain the situation, cross the terminal to the Air Canada check-in counter, and then pick up a reprint of the e-ticket itinerary at their office in the same building, but it was still a big relief when my mother got her boarding pass.
So in the end, how do I feel about the whole trip? It was certainly a learning experience, in that I got to finally understand what most JETs probably feel when they arrive in Narita for the first time. I arrived in Seoul, a modern Asian city, surrounded by language I don't understand. I also felt that Korea is a city trying to play catch up. It is a vibrant mix of Japan, China, and America, yet it doesn't seem to have it's own niche just yet. Every where I looked, I saw the glitz and glamour of down-town Japan, but in the morning light, the litter on the streets, the greasy stains on the kerb, and the buckets of organic food waste waiting for pick up reminded me of Chinatown. Ultimately, Korea left me intrigued and wanting a bit more. But in a sense, I'm also glad to be back home in Japan.
Pics to come when I have some free time this week.
That, in a nutshell, is what I did for 2 days and 2 nights in Seoul. Last weekend, my mother, her cousin, and I went to Korea. With only 2 days, we were only able to explore the Myong-dong district, a hip, young shopping area peopled by as many foreigners as natives.
Seoul is only an hour away by plane from Fukuoka, but being an international flight, we were still treated to an airline dinner. I was asleep going, and judging by the meal coming back, I didn't miss much. Besides, food in-country is what I was looking forward to.
We landed in Korea at what seemed like the other side of Incheon International, and we were rolling at least 15 minutes on the ground. Impressive if you consider that taxiing to and from runways made up at least 20% of the time we were planed.
Arrival, otherwise proceeded smoothly and soon we were on our way to the Westin via shuttlebus. I noticed 3 things almost immediately. First, people drive on the right side of the road, figuratively and literally. Second, the highways and streets are wide and spacious, an almost welcome sight compared to the narrow deathtraps that are Japanese streets. Last, there were an inordinate number of cars parked on the shoulders of the highway. For what reason I couldn't fathom, but I saw one car virtually blocking an offramp. At one point, I'm sure I saw a food stand, doing business on the side of the elevated highway. All of this seemed foolish to me, but in Seoul it was business as usual.
The Westin was very posh, and the room we were in a very nice reminder of the Canadian essentials I miss in Japan; faucets that run hot water, stand-up showers, central heating, and wall insulation. Sadly, Seoul was pretty warm (about 3-10 degrees C), so I couldn't enjoy the benefits of modern construction techniques. Instead, we actually ended up sleeping with the windows open a crack and the heating turned down to 15 degrees.
Dinner that night was at a ma & pa joint, with wickedly delicious kalbee, fried-pork, and seafood-nabe (hot pot). Even my mother, normally adverse to meat, got in to a little kalbee action. The walls of the restaurant were covered in polariods of other satisfied customers, and we gladly added our own mugs to their collection. It will be fun to go back one day and find that picture.
We wandered around, soaking in the atmosphere. Being Lunar New Years Eve, many stores were closing up early, but we managed to snag a small truck selling little golden pigs, famous in Korea and those in the know for bringing good luck.
After we returned to our hotel, filled with ice-cream and kim-chee (not in that order), we ended up collapsing into sleep at about 2am. We'd be up in about 5 hours.
Despite the short sleep time, I felt pretty good for someone more-or-less constantly on the go for the last 2 weeks. Brekkie was at the hotel's Executive Lounge (thanks dad, for booking us as Exec club members), and soon enough we were out on the streets of Myong-dong again. First stop was the Lotte duty free shop next door, where I managed to get a fair chunk of my souveneir shopping done. You couldn't turn around without smacking into a Japanese person there.
After Lotte was Myong-dong proper, and I was surprised to see so many American chains there. Smoothie King (is this American?), Starbucks, Krispy Kreme, Pizza Hut, McDonald's, and my personal slice of heaven, Burger King. I indulged my Whopper cravings later that night (and the next day), but for now it was off to find lunch.
Lunch was a bit of an ordeal, as we got ourselves a little lost and overshot the restaurant by about 6 blocks. A quick consultation of the map had us back on track, but by then my mother, no longer quite the spring chicken, was pretty close to collapse. Part of the wonder of Seoul is the seeming lack of crosswalks. I'm not sure if this is a phenomenon restricted just to just the Myong-dong district, or whether Korea is a nation of anti-crosswalk-ites, but crossing the street involved going downstairs to subway level, to a pathway lined with shops, and climbing back up. It seemed that many, if not all, the underground passage ways were interconnected, creating a large super network of underground passages. I can only think of two possibilities for this odd construction. One is the fact that Seoul is a sort of winter city. No snow when we were there, but perhaps on colder days people just stay underground. The other possibility is that they are ad hoc bunkers, in case ol' Kim Jong Il decides to start lobbing in arty. I seem to recall reading that Seoul is within range of North Korea's artillery.
We finally found our restaurant, and we were treated to a sort of chicken stew/gruel. I forget what it was called, (something like samgeta, but I'm working off a Japanese translation) but it was very tasty. I think, however, we enjoyed the simple act of sitting after our long trek more than anything else.
Following lunch, we wandered past a famous eyeglass store, and on a lark we decided to all make new glasses. I am pleased to say that my new glasses suit me very well, better in fact than my old ones. I am sadly to say that they also cost about 1/8 of my old glasses. At least I've got a REALLY nice set of back ups.
After we made our glasses, it was to the nearest department store, Shingekai. It was a very nice store, and while I was there I picked up a small North Face duffelbag, and a pair of Timberland loafers. After about an hour we headed back for our glasses (20 minutes a pop to make), and then wandered the streets of Myong-dong again, stopping in a variety of shops. A lot of the time was spent trying to find Krispy Kreme, which took some awesome 40 minutes or so due to us not knowing were to go, and by the time we got there, we just had the free donuts and just bought coffee before heading back to the hotel.
After a bit of rest, we headed out again, this time to a nearby restaurant that specialized in chi-gu. What that is I'm not sure, but it basically seems like a variation on rice-gruel. Good food, though we were confused at first on how to eat it.
Tired as hell, we headed back after dinner to turn in early, and all of us lay sort of comatose at one point or another before mustering the energy to bath. Our early night saw us asleep by 11pm.
The next day I felt the tiredness overwhelm me, and I was asleep until about 10am. By then, my mother and her cousin had had breakfast, and I woke up soon after and got ready to check out and go for lunch. Thanks to my new duffel I got rid of my boots and switch to my infitely more comfortably new loafers, and we wandered around a quiet, Japanese tourist filled Myong-dong. Most of the stores were closed, and would be until 11 or 12, but we managed to scope out a likely lunch venue. We then hurried back, checked out and settled our bill, and headed back for lunch. Lunch was delicious bulgogi, but a bit rushed as were on the clock for the airport limosine bus. We hurried back, me with a Whopper in hand, and made it back with about 7 minutes to spare.
The bus ride back to Incheon, about an hour, was quiet and a nice chance for us to unwind. There was however, one last drama for us to overcome. While my mother's cousin, of course a Japanese citizen, and myself, a non-permanent resident of Japan, had no problems procuring our boarding passes, my mother, who is neither of these couldn't be issued one until she presented proof that she had a flight out of Japan.
Everyone was very nice, and the delay only took up the time required to explain the situation, cross the terminal to the Air Canada check-in counter, and then pick up a reprint of the e-ticket itinerary at their office in the same building, but it was still a big relief when my mother got her boarding pass.
So in the end, how do I feel about the whole trip? It was certainly a learning experience, in that I got to finally understand what most JETs probably feel when they arrive in Narita for the first time. I arrived in Seoul, a modern Asian city, surrounded by language I don't understand. I also felt that Korea is a city trying to play catch up. It is a vibrant mix of Japan, China, and America, yet it doesn't seem to have it's own niche just yet. Every where I looked, I saw the glitz and glamour of down-town Japan, but in the morning light, the litter on the streets, the greasy stains on the kerb, and the buckets of organic food waste waiting for pick up reminded me of Chinatown. Ultimately, Korea left me intrigued and wanting a bit more. But in a sense, I'm also glad to be back home in Japan.
Pics to come when I have some free time this week.
2/18/2005
Home at last
All good things must come to an end, they say. I"m back in good ol' T.O., very relieved to have the return leg of the trip over with. Door to door was about 24 hours, and after some preliminary web surfing and unpacking, I was fast asleep in bed by 1am.
So, final thoughts? My time in Japan seemed longer that it was. 12 days (10 really) gave me a healthy dose of Japan, at least the Fukuoka parts. My mom comments that this was probably just about right. Not long enough to be a bother, but long enough to want to stay a tad bit longer.
Overall, my experience was of course positive. I went almost 2 solid weeks speaking only Japanese, so my confidence with it, rather than any grammatical or vocabulary improvement, is much higher. I definitely want to live at least a few years there, and at this time, I think most of my energies will be directed in that manner. I think for now, editor's courses are on hold while I consider what my best strategy will be in order to realize my goals. Not really an epiphany or a wake up call, but more of a kick in the ass to get me out of my rut.
My mother's experiences were a little different. I'll go out on a limb and say she enjoyed herself, but she was far more anxious than I to get home. Perhaps because she was born and raised in Japan, perhaps because she feels that her years in Canada makes her unable to live in Japan anymore, but she felt more keenly than I the imposition upon our relatives as they rearranged their lives for 2 weeks.
She also brought up another point. My experiences in Japan, while in some ways unique, in some ways mundane, were entirely the experiences of an outsider, visitor, and guest. In an odd way, I was connected and disconnected from the world that surrounded me, able to move through it and interact with it, but in a sense never fully integrate with it. Making money for my daily bread was never a consideration; only the spending bonanza that comes with vacationing. I was opened to some of the harsher realities of my family ties, but shielded from the society as a whole.
At the risk of sounding philosophical or introspective, I wonder how this clashes with my own preconceptions of my heritage, or my place in a global Japanese community. I was acutely aware, even during my short time there, that I was indeed very much a foreigner. I can only wonder at what the Japanese store employees thought of this odd chimera of Japanese speaker and foreign mannerism. When some cashier fired at me a blur of Japanese point-cardism, I was more often than not left speechless, struggling to understand what I was being told. I must have looked like a moron when I turned helplessly to a relative, who in turn answered for me.
Thus I cannot deny a feeling that my proficiency in Japanese is both a great hinderance as well as an asset. A hinderance because my fluency and lack of obvious accent makes people expect that I am 100% able to operate in that society. I cannot turn to the easy crutch of a foreigner's face or skin-tone, or even accent as a way of indicating that I am not fluent.
The conflict comes then from my own positivist attitude and ability to adapt to my own circumstances. Until I opened my mouth, or failed to react to a question posed, I was for all intents and purposes a normal, if not slightly eccentric, Japanese man. I never felt out of sorts or out of place in Japan. In fact, I felt pretty damn comfortable.
While it may seem at odds with my earlier comments of recognizing my gaijin status in Japan, it isn't. Those of you who know me well might ponder over my seemingly care not to make waves with those around me, my attempts to ensure that people are seated around a table in a manner that ensure no one feels uncomfortable with their neighbours, or any other number of seeming trivialities that I engage in. These mannerisms are not because I am an overly sensitive man, but are rather a product of my being brought up with at least some Japanese values. While I realized that I was a foreigner, I felt comfortable knowing that such mannerisms were normal in Japan. While this is difficult for me to admit, for the first time in my life I was conscious of being part of a culture, rather than just living in one. What, exactly, this means for me in Canada I cannot say, for these are questions I have never really openly contemplated.
Another factor was made evident from what was certainly an off the cuff comment from on my relatives (I don't remember who). They remarked that, were I to come to Japan with obviously foreign friends, and display my ability to converse fluently in both Japanese and English, a listener might be envious of, and a little hostile to, me, thinking "Just who the hell does this guy think he is, showing us all up?" It is not a reaction I can explain on any intellectual level, but one I can understand at a subconsious level.
The conflict, therefore, comes to me in this form: will I be able to succeed in Japan as a foreigner without a foreigner's crutches to fall back onto? My fluency at both the language and the cultural mannerisms are a fragile facade covering a complex, multi-cultural, and ultimately Canadian, personality, yet that person could only be recognized and understood by someone who learned about my situation. My pseudo-Japanese appearance and speech will lead those I interact with to assume that I am in fact Japanese, and when my Canadian-ness asserts itself, they can reach only one of two conclusions. Either I am a grade-A moron, because even the simplest concepts like point-cards or payment plans elude me, or I am a better person than they are because I am more able, because of my fluency in English. Both of these conclusions arise from the fact that there are no obvious signs of gaijin-ness about me. They cannot, I think, re-evaluate their strategy from Japanese-interaction to gaijin-interaction mid-stride without themselves feeling foolish.
Regardless of what comes for me in the future, I can only hope that my positivism will carry me through it. Perhaps, much like at home, I can rely on the friends I make to help me weather the stormy channels of Japanese society. My situation is not unique in itself, as I know of many others who have made the same trek as I am contemplating, but it is unique to me.
Of course, all of this is moot until I graduate :P
This last post was a heavy one, but one I feel is necessary to complete my own personal journey in Fukuoka Japan. I hope that you have enjoyed reading it, for I truly enjoyed writing it. For the time being, this blog is at an end.
At the end of the day, I feels damn good to sleep in a bed again...
So, final thoughts? My time in Japan seemed longer that it was. 12 days (10 really) gave me a healthy dose of Japan, at least the Fukuoka parts. My mom comments that this was probably just about right. Not long enough to be a bother, but long enough to want to stay a tad bit longer.
Overall, my experience was of course positive. I went almost 2 solid weeks speaking only Japanese, so my confidence with it, rather than any grammatical or vocabulary improvement, is much higher. I definitely want to live at least a few years there, and at this time, I think most of my energies will be directed in that manner. I think for now, editor's courses are on hold while I consider what my best strategy will be in order to realize my goals. Not really an epiphany or a wake up call, but more of a kick in the ass to get me out of my rut.
My mother's experiences were a little different. I'll go out on a limb and say she enjoyed herself, but she was far more anxious than I to get home. Perhaps because she was born and raised in Japan, perhaps because she feels that her years in Canada makes her unable to live in Japan anymore, but she felt more keenly than I the imposition upon our relatives as they rearranged their lives for 2 weeks.
She also brought up another point. My experiences in Japan, while in some ways unique, in some ways mundane, were entirely the experiences of an outsider, visitor, and guest. In an odd way, I was connected and disconnected from the world that surrounded me, able to move through it and interact with it, but in a sense never fully integrate with it. Making money for my daily bread was never a consideration; only the spending bonanza that comes with vacationing. I was opened to some of the harsher realities of my family ties, but shielded from the society as a whole.
At the risk of sounding philosophical or introspective, I wonder how this clashes with my own preconceptions of my heritage, or my place in a global Japanese community. I was acutely aware, even during my short time there, that I was indeed very much a foreigner. I can only wonder at what the Japanese store employees thought of this odd chimera of Japanese speaker and foreign mannerism. When some cashier fired at me a blur of Japanese point-cardism, I was more often than not left speechless, struggling to understand what I was being told. I must have looked like a moron when I turned helplessly to a relative, who in turn answered for me.
Thus I cannot deny a feeling that my proficiency in Japanese is both a great hinderance as well as an asset. A hinderance because my fluency and lack of obvious accent makes people expect that I am 100% able to operate in that society. I cannot turn to the easy crutch of a foreigner's face or skin-tone, or even accent as a way of indicating that I am not fluent.
The conflict comes then from my own positivist attitude and ability to adapt to my own circumstances. Until I opened my mouth, or failed to react to a question posed, I was for all intents and purposes a normal, if not slightly eccentric, Japanese man. I never felt out of sorts or out of place in Japan. In fact, I felt pretty damn comfortable.
While it may seem at odds with my earlier comments of recognizing my gaijin status in Japan, it isn't. Those of you who know me well might ponder over my seemingly care not to make waves with those around me, my attempts to ensure that people are seated around a table in a manner that ensure no one feels uncomfortable with their neighbours, or any other number of seeming trivialities that I engage in. These mannerisms are not because I am an overly sensitive man, but are rather a product of my being brought up with at least some Japanese values. While I realized that I was a foreigner, I felt comfortable knowing that such mannerisms were normal in Japan. While this is difficult for me to admit, for the first time in my life I was conscious of being part of a culture, rather than just living in one. What, exactly, this means for me in Canada I cannot say, for these are questions I have never really openly contemplated.
Another factor was made evident from what was certainly an off the cuff comment from on my relatives (I don't remember who). They remarked that, were I to come to Japan with obviously foreign friends, and display my ability to converse fluently in both Japanese and English, a listener might be envious of, and a little hostile to, me, thinking "Just who the hell does this guy think he is, showing us all up?" It is not a reaction I can explain on any intellectual level, but one I can understand at a subconsious level.
The conflict, therefore, comes to me in this form: will I be able to succeed in Japan as a foreigner without a foreigner's crutches to fall back onto? My fluency at both the language and the cultural mannerisms are a fragile facade covering a complex, multi-cultural, and ultimately Canadian, personality, yet that person could only be recognized and understood by someone who learned about my situation. My pseudo-Japanese appearance and speech will lead those I interact with to assume that I am in fact Japanese, and when my Canadian-ness asserts itself, they can reach only one of two conclusions. Either I am a grade-A moron, because even the simplest concepts like point-cards or payment plans elude me, or I am a better person than they are because I am more able, because of my fluency in English. Both of these conclusions arise from the fact that there are no obvious signs of gaijin-ness about me. They cannot, I think, re-evaluate their strategy from Japanese-interaction to gaijin-interaction mid-stride without themselves feeling foolish.
Regardless of what comes for me in the future, I can only hope that my positivism will carry me through it. Perhaps, much like at home, I can rely on the friends I make to help me weather the stormy channels of Japanese society. My situation is not unique in itself, as I know of many others who have made the same trek as I am contemplating, but it is unique to me.
Of course, all of this is moot until I graduate :P
This last post was a heavy one, but one I feel is necessary to complete my own personal journey in Fukuoka Japan. I hope that you have enjoyed reading it, for I truly enjoyed writing it. For the time being, this blog is at an end.
At the end of the day, I feels damn good to sleep in a bed again...
2/17/2005
Time Travel
My last post from the Land of the Rising Sun. I'll leave off my closing thoughts until I'm back on Terra Canadiana.
A few points of interest, particularly regarding my cousin's daughters' names. First, no, Ulala is not named after the Space Channel 5 character, but a Japanese word, meaning warmth. Same, actually, with Honoka. Both names are meant to evoke feelings of spring-time warmth and sunshine. Beautiful names for beautiful kids. As an aside, Ulala, or can also be spelled Urara, Ulara, Urala.
A final day of hectic shopping left me tired mentally and physically. There was some shopping for other people (cough)Fran(cough). Mostly though, it was following my mom and her cousin through crowded shops looking for gifts for home.
After an early lunch with my mom's aunt and uncle, I had a chance encounter with a Buddhist Priest-in-training. He was standing there, chanting, and after a small donation, he blessed me. Actually, it was quite a to-do, as he stood behind me warding off evil spirits. My mom took this to be a very good omen.
While the shopping was long and by now very routine, I was fortunate enough to stumble across a small shop, called Unda Ground. It's one of those store which carries all those trendy fashion items that seem famous for those with an eye on the Asian beat. Sadly, with a price tag to boot. I did end up buying a wallet there.
On the way to meeting up with the mom, I stumbled across a display of Shinto ritual. Its a ritual performed in thanks to the Japanese pantheon. I do not know what is going on.
After most of our shopping, we ended up at a stylish cafe. Cheesecake and espresso, and on the way out, an store with an Engrish name:
We returned home after some 6 hours of walking the streets, exhausted and wondering how we were going to bring all these gifts home. Luckily enough, my cousin Miwa is a pro at packing.
Dinner was a rowdy affair at home, as the whole family showed up for a teppan-yaki dinner.
Here are some pics of the family.
From left to right: my cousin Miwa, my aunt Toshiko, my mother, Ulala, my cousin's wife Hiroe, Honoka, my cousin Makoto, and my uncle Kenji.
Pictured here is my grandma, one of the progenitors of my family tree.
And now, finally, we get to the point of this entry's title. I leave for Kansai International from Fukuoka at 2:15 pm on Friday, February 18th. After I arrive in Kansai and make the arduous trip to Vancouver, we leave Vancouver International at 2:15 , pm on Friday, February 18th. Thanks to astrophysics and timezones, I get to fly from Fukuoka to Toronto in 7 hours and 18 minutes.
It's going to be a long 7 hours...
A few points of interest, particularly regarding my cousin's daughters' names. First, no, Ulala is not named after the Space Channel 5 character, but a Japanese word, meaning warmth. Same, actually, with Honoka. Both names are meant to evoke feelings of spring-time warmth and sunshine. Beautiful names for beautiful kids. As an aside, Ulala, or can also be spelled Urara, Ulara, Urala.
A final day of hectic shopping left me tired mentally and physically. There was some shopping for other people (cough)
After an early lunch with my mom's aunt and uncle, I had a chance encounter with a Buddhist Priest-in-training. He was standing there, chanting, and after a small donation, he blessed me. Actually, it was quite a to-do, as he stood behind me warding off evil spirits. My mom took this to be a very good omen.
While the shopping was long and by now very routine, I was fortunate enough to stumble across a small shop, called Unda Ground. It's one of those store which carries all those trendy fashion items that seem famous for those with an eye on the Asian beat. Sadly, with a price tag to boot. I did end up buying a wallet there.
On the way to meeting up with the mom, I stumbled across a display of Shinto ritual. Its a ritual performed in thanks to the Japanese pantheon. I do not know what is going on.
After most of our shopping, we ended up at a stylish cafe. Cheesecake and espresso, and on the way out, an store with an Engrish name:
We returned home after some 6 hours of walking the streets, exhausted and wondering how we were going to bring all these gifts home. Luckily enough, my cousin Miwa is a pro at packing.
Dinner was a rowdy affair at home, as the whole family showed up for a teppan-yaki dinner.
Here are some pics of the family.
From left to right: my cousin Miwa, my aunt Toshiko, my mother, Ulala, my cousin's wife Hiroe, Honoka, my cousin Makoto, and my uncle Kenji.
Pictured here is my grandma, one of the progenitors of my family tree.
And now, finally, we get to the point of this entry's title. I leave for Kansai International from Fukuoka at 2:15 pm on Friday, February 18th. After I arrive in Kansai and make the arduous trip to Vancouver, we leave Vancouver International at 2:15 , pm on Friday, February 18th. Thanks to astrophysics and timezones, I get to fly from Fukuoka to Toronto in 7 hours and 18 minutes.
It's going to be a long 7 hours...
2/16/2005
The End Time Is Near...
Wow. I can't believe my Odyssey is almost over. While there's no doubt some influence from from the leisure of vacationing without worry at work here, I am only half looking forward to coming home. Home heralds a very busy school-work schedule, as I go into overdrive trying to finish a presentation and a paper. Well, reality is a harsh mistress. It will be very nice to sleep in a proper bed though.
Today was spent for the most part at You-me City, a sort of super-grocery store. You may have noticed that Japanese people have a penchant for calling shopping malls "cities". The only explanation I can offer is that is sounds trendy and self-contained, invoking a feeling that everything you need is right there. I realize now that I have no pictures of the grocery store itself, but there's a reasoning behind this. First, no chance for a location shot as we were in a car. Second, the place is just too damn big. Grocery store itself is a misnomer, as there are restaurants, and all manner of departments, selling clothing, stationary, housewares, toys, and even electronics. Conceptually, it's much more like a department store as we in Toronto might understand it. Walmart, perhaps, might be the closest thing to it.
What pics I do have are from the gaming centre, or arcade. Not the grungy-ass Yonge Street types, but the cleaner Scarlem ones, that cater to HKs and CBCs. I am, to a large degree, too old to be playing at an arcade...BUT:
This game is too much fun. No real need to explain why I find it so. Instead, some more pics.
And even a peanut gallery:
Just as fun, but far more interesting, was this game:
The point of the game is to hit the taiko drums in beat with the music, which ranges from simple folk/children's tunes, to pop chart toppers. A back ground in music is an asset, as it makes following 4/4 tempo easy. I made more mistakes thinking about when to hit the drum, as opposed to letting my instincts take over.
After lunch, grocery/gift shopping, precussion and double-tapping tangoes, we went out for dinner at the trendy Nakasu district of Fukuoka. Think John and Richmond, but with a greater lounge density. Nakasu is also famous for signs by the river front.
Dinner was okonomi-yaki, yam pancakes filled with all manner of goodness. Much to my own surprise, I was fine with the squid. On top of that, this kick ass place provided me with Guinness. Only down side? Only 1/2 pints.
Pictured above is my cousin, Makoto.
These last few pics showcase the apartment that my cousins live in. My grandmother is part owner of the land that the complex was built on, so as a result, her and her family's rent is stupidly cheap. I don't want to give figures, but its less than if 4 people went out to a good restaurant for dinner and drinks. A spot in the car park costs 500 yen per month. Or roughly $5. Like I said, stupidly cheap.
The building itself is 13 stories, and about 30 years old. My aunt lives on the 13th floor:
Yep, a button for the 13th floor. No silly superstitions about 13 here. But, 4 is an unlucky number, as it can also mean death.
And last, but certainly not least, the new girl in my life, whom I have named Hurricane Honoka:
Cute as a button. Maybe even cuter ;D
Today was spent for the most part at You-me City, a sort of super-grocery store. You may have noticed that Japanese people have a penchant for calling shopping malls "cities". The only explanation I can offer is that is sounds trendy and self-contained, invoking a feeling that everything you need is right there. I realize now that I have no pictures of the grocery store itself, but there's a reasoning behind this. First, no chance for a location shot as we were in a car. Second, the place is just too damn big. Grocery store itself is a misnomer, as there are restaurants, and all manner of departments, selling clothing, stationary, housewares, toys, and even electronics. Conceptually, it's much more like a department store as we in Toronto might understand it. Walmart, perhaps, might be the closest thing to it.
What pics I do have are from the gaming centre, or arcade. Not the grungy-ass Yonge Street types, but the cleaner Scarlem ones, that cater to HKs and CBCs. I am, to a large degree, too old to be playing at an arcade...BUT:
This game is too much fun. No real need to explain why I find it so. Instead, some more pics.
And even a peanut gallery:
Just as fun, but far more interesting, was this game:
The point of the game is to hit the taiko drums in beat with the music, which ranges from simple folk/children's tunes, to pop chart toppers. A back ground in music is an asset, as it makes following 4/4 tempo easy. I made more mistakes thinking about when to hit the drum, as opposed to letting my instincts take over.
After lunch, grocery/gift shopping, precussion and double-tapping tangoes, we went out for dinner at the trendy Nakasu district of Fukuoka. Think John and Richmond, but with a greater lounge density. Nakasu is also famous for signs by the river front.
Dinner was okonomi-yaki, yam pancakes filled with all manner of goodness. Much to my own surprise, I was fine with the squid. On top of that, this kick ass place provided me with Guinness. Only down side? Only 1/2 pints.
Pictured above is my cousin, Makoto.
These last few pics showcase the apartment that my cousins live in. My grandmother is part owner of the land that the complex was built on, so as a result, her and her family's rent is stupidly cheap. I don't want to give figures, but its less than if 4 people went out to a good restaurant for dinner and drinks. A spot in the car park costs 500 yen per month. Or roughly $5. Like I said, stupidly cheap.
The building itself is 13 stories, and about 30 years old. My aunt lives on the 13th floor:
Yep, a button for the 13th floor. No silly superstitions about 13 here. But, 4 is an unlucky number, as it can also mean death.
And last, but certainly not least, the new girl in my life, whom I have named Hurricane Honoka:
Cute as a button. Maybe even cuter ;D
2/15/2005
My World = Shopping
Can there be such a thing as too much shopping? I've been known to equate Japan as one big shopping mall, and the last 3 days seem to have reinforced this idea for me.
Oddly enough, I have relatively few pictures to show. Mostly, I'm just bad at choosing Kodak moments. But I'm also usually too busy being involved in the process of consumerism. So instead I will try to share what interesting nuggets of cultural information I've learned during my time here.
Of the first day of shopping, I have no pictures to show. Not only was my camera acting up, but it was damned cold where we were. A 30 minute car ride ended in a quaintly named shopping mall called Marinoa City (of course, not to be confused with Marina City, close by). Marinoa City is modeled after an American Shopping mall; stores built around a multi-story courtyard. Being Sunday, it was unsurprisingly packed.
Dinner that night was pizza from Pizza-la. I've always had this image of Japanese pizza being topped with all manner of strange sushi-esque items, but I was pleasantly surprised to find it now fairly similar to home. I can, I think, thank the evolution of the gourmet pizza at home for that. Surprisingly delectable was a creamy potato topping on one of the pizzas.
The next day was Valentine's Day. While the appeal for romanticly involved couples remains intact, the major facet of this day in Japan is the giving of chocolate, not by men but by women, to the loved ones in their life. It's also a chance for young girls to give sweets to someone they have a crush on, with the hope that their desires are acknowledged and perhaps even reciprocated a month later on "White Day#".
This is my cousin Makoto's youngest, Ulala. While for the most part, the Japanese health care system is similar to the American one (that is, user-paid directly), services involving children up to the age of 4 (6 in Fukuoka Prefecture) are free. Makoto's other daughter, Honoka has been sick with a slight fever and ear infection, which required several visits to the hospital.
The major planned event of the day was Cirque de Soleil's Allegria 2, playing in Fukuoka. It was a very good show, but not particularly unique in any Japanese sense. The return trip, to meet up with my mom and her cousins down town was more interesting.
Allegria was playing just down the walkway from Hakozaki shrine. Built in 923, it was razed and rebuilt a number of times, notably after the Mongol invasion 1274.
The first step in visiting a Japanese shrine is the ritual cleansing of the hands, as a proxy for cleansing the spirit. You take the cup from atop the fountain and pour water over you hands.
After that, you proceed to the shrine's Oratory, where shrine rituals are usually performed by Shinto priests. In this case, you toss some money into the collection box (out of frame), clap twice, bow you head, and clap twice again. This ritual is individual to most shrines, and is explained by a sign displayed for visitors.
More shopping followed, but again, this is fairly standard stuff. I'll end with 2 random images. The first is a really cool T-Shirt shop, which showcases the designed of up-and-coming designers. The next is a restaurant, I think. I just thought the big crab was cool :P
Oddly enough, I have relatively few pictures to show. Mostly, I'm just bad at choosing Kodak moments. But I'm also usually too busy being involved in the process of consumerism. So instead I will try to share what interesting nuggets of cultural information I've learned during my time here.
Of the first day of shopping, I have no pictures to show. Not only was my camera acting up, but it was damned cold where we were. A 30 minute car ride ended in a quaintly named shopping mall called Marinoa City (of course, not to be confused with Marina City, close by). Marinoa City is modeled after an American Shopping mall; stores built around a multi-story courtyard. Being Sunday, it was unsurprisingly packed.
Dinner that night was pizza from Pizza-la. I've always had this image of Japanese pizza being topped with all manner of strange sushi-esque items, but I was pleasantly surprised to find it now fairly similar to home. I can, I think, thank the evolution of the gourmet pizza at home for that. Surprisingly delectable was a creamy potato topping on one of the pizzas.
The next day was Valentine's Day. While the appeal for romanticly involved couples remains intact, the major facet of this day in Japan is the giving of chocolate, not by men but by women, to the loved ones in their life. It's also a chance for young girls to give sweets to someone they have a crush on, with the hope that their desires are acknowledged and perhaps even reciprocated a month later on "White Day#".
This is my cousin Makoto's youngest, Ulala. While for the most part, the Japanese health care system is similar to the American one (that is, user-paid directly), services involving children up to the age of 4 (6 in Fukuoka Prefecture) are free. Makoto's other daughter, Honoka has been sick with a slight fever and ear infection, which required several visits to the hospital.
The major planned event of the day was Cirque de Soleil's Allegria 2, playing in Fukuoka. It was a very good show, but not particularly unique in any Japanese sense. The return trip, to meet up with my mom and her cousins down town was more interesting.
Allegria was playing just down the walkway from Hakozaki shrine. Built in 923, it was razed and rebuilt a number of times, notably after the Mongol invasion 1274.
The first step in visiting a Japanese shrine is the ritual cleansing of the hands, as a proxy for cleansing the spirit. You take the cup from atop the fountain and pour water over you hands.
After that, you proceed to the shrine's Oratory, where shrine rituals are usually performed by Shinto priests. In this case, you toss some money into the collection box (out of frame), clap twice, bow you head, and clap twice again. This ritual is individual to most shrines, and is explained by a sign displayed for visitors.
More shopping followed, but again, this is fairly standard stuff. I'll end with 2 random images. The first is a really cool T-Shirt shop, which showcases the designed of up-and-coming designers. The next is a restaurant, I think. I just thought the big crab was cool :P
2/12/2005
Heaven on Earth
Not much in the way of story telling today, as the events relating to shopping are episodic in nature, with little reason for context, flow, or narrative. Instead, I will show you the a succession of pictures, and provide commentary for each. The pictures, at least, are in chronological order.
A picture of Fukuoka, from just outside my aunt's apartment. I don't know why, but I feel that this view showcases the stereotypical Japanese city.
Yodabashi Camera, an electronics shop that would put Future Shop to shame. Really, more of a shopping centre in it's own right, it's 4 floors of electronic bliss. Oddly enough tho, I only ended up buying batteries there, for my energy-voracious digital camera.
The Fukuoka subway system is a marvel of efficiency. In particular, I wanted to show the barrier that's in place to prevent people from jumping in front of trains. This is a fairly popular form of suicide in Japan, and all train drivers are told that at some point in their career, driving a train that runs someone over will probably happen. The arrows mark the locations of the doors when the train arrives at the station.
Inside the train there is not much to comment about, other than to mention how clean it is, a feature common to Japan as a country. No litter, strange stains on the floor, or grime-coated surfaces. The frequency of litter bins is truly inspiring. Props to my cousin, whose picture I pretended to take so as to not attract attention.
Heaven on Earth, thy name is SWAT. My cousins went to the trouble of researching military shops for me, and this is the result. For a crazy like me, it was paradise. Unlike the surplus shops I find in Canada, it was staffed by friendly, helpful people. It was clean and organized, and most surprizingly, very cheap. Located at the back was an airsoft section, with all manner of guns and accessories, as well as tactical gear and BBs. Once for me is truly not enough, and I will be making return trips there.
The swag from SWAT. Pictured here: A shoulder bag with leg strap from J-Tech, a M1A1 Thompson hi-cap magazine, a G&P BB-loader shaped like an IR strobe light, and an OD mesh scarf.
A picture of downtown Fukuoka at dusk.
Last stop for the night: the best noodles in town. Pictured are my mom and her cousins.
More to come tomorrow.
A picture of Fukuoka, from just outside my aunt's apartment. I don't know why, but I feel that this view showcases the stereotypical Japanese city.
Yodabashi Camera, an electronics shop that would put Future Shop to shame. Really, more of a shopping centre in it's own right, it's 4 floors of electronic bliss. Oddly enough tho, I only ended up buying batteries there, for my energy-voracious digital camera.
The Fukuoka subway system is a marvel of efficiency. In particular, I wanted to show the barrier that's in place to prevent people from jumping in front of trains. This is a fairly popular form of suicide in Japan, and all train drivers are told that at some point in their career, driving a train that runs someone over will probably happen. The arrows mark the locations of the doors when the train arrives at the station.
Inside the train there is not much to comment about, other than to mention how clean it is, a feature common to Japan as a country. No litter, strange stains on the floor, or grime-coated surfaces. The frequency of litter bins is truly inspiring. Props to my cousin, whose picture I pretended to take so as to not attract attention.
Heaven on Earth, thy name is SWAT. My cousins went to the trouble of researching military shops for me, and this is the result. For a crazy like me, it was paradise. Unlike the surplus shops I find in Canada, it was staffed by friendly, helpful people. It was clean and organized, and most surprizingly, very cheap. Located at the back was an airsoft section, with all manner of guns and accessories, as well as tactical gear and BBs. Once for me is truly not enough, and I will be making return trips there.
The swag from SWAT. Pictured here: A shoulder bag with leg strap from J-Tech, a M1A1 Thompson hi-cap magazine, a G&P BB-loader shaped like an IR strobe light, and an OD mesh scarf.
A picture of downtown Fukuoka at dusk.
Last stop for the night: the best noodles in town. Pictured are my mom and her cousins.
More to come tomorrow.
2/11/2005
SPACEWORLD!!!!
For maximum effect, you need to say the title in a 1950's sci-fi radio serial voice.
Friday marked the last day for me, for any sort of cleaning, and that mostly burning more garbage. My mother will stay at least one more day, before visiting the grave of a relative Saturday morning and returning to Fukuoka in the afternoon.
A note about how I spent my "leisure" time in Nishihigashi. With nothing to do and it becoming very dark fairly early in the evening, I found myself going to bed at anywhere from 8 to 10 pm. Consequently, I would wake up between 3 - 5 am, and usually just lie in bed until 7-9 am, where upon my day would start again. Mostly, I read a couple of comic books I bought at the train station before I left Fukuoka, or chatted with my mom or grandma. Thankfully, I'm back in civilized lands now, and will have regular access to internet and other city distractions.
About 10:30 Friday morning, my cousin Miwa and her parents came to the ancestral manse to pick me up. A quick introduction to my family in Fukuoka. I'm staying with my Aunt and Uncle, Toshiko and Kenji. Kenji is my dad's older brother, and the middle of 3 boys (the oldest lives in a city to the south called Oita). They have 3 kids, a boy and two girls. The oldest is Makoto, my childhood friend, but about 5 years my senior. He's now got 2 kids of his own, 2 girls 2 years and 11 months old respectively, named Honoka and Ulala. Second is Fumi, whom I never really got to know, a problem that exists even today. This is mainly because, as a girl and older than both me and my brother, she never really paired off with either me or my brother. Youngest is Miwa, whom some of you already met, is 2 years younger than me. Mainly because of her visit to Toronto in December and early January, and our fairly closeness in age, I've been hanging out with her a lot more. Lastly, my other grandma (dad's side) lives in the same building as my aunt, uncle, and oldest cousin (he lives next door). I'll be sure to snap pics of the family soon.
I'm still not exactly sure where Space World is in relation to Fukuoka. Something tells me north-east, but that's just speculation. The original intention was to go to Spaceworld, spend a night in a hotel, then return leisurely on Saturday. Sadly, the hotel was booked solid (it was a risk we had already known), so it was just Spaceworld for the time being.
What to say about Spaceworld? Well, for one thing, it could just have been easily named Aquaworld, or Termiteworld, or Genericworld and be relatively unchanged. Think half of Canada's Wonderland with a little bit of NASA thrown in, and you get the idea. All in all, rather uninspiring.
Cool names such as Space Shaker and Titan couldn't really diffuse the overall blandness of the place.
Still, the trip itself was fun, as any place with roller coasters will be. There were 2, Venus and Titan. Venus featured more curves and Gees, while Titan had one big 60 metre drop. I'll say this: hook me up for a roller coaster any time. Lots of fun and excitement, leaving me wobble-legged and mildly disoriented afterwards.
Here's a quick pic of me and my cousin:
Spaceworld closed at 5pm, so we were off, this time to a pleasant little attraction called Mojiko. A place name, it is historic in that is has many houses and buildings erected and designed during the Meiji era. The Meiji era saw Japan modernize almost overnight, and the frankly Victorian influences are clear in the architecture. Where are the pics, you ask? There aren't any really, as I didn't find much to be interesting. The architecture is similar in many senses to the buildings in Toronto. Head out to Queen and Victoria, and walk south east and you'll get the same effect.
What I did find interesting was Honshu, Japan's biggest island, just across the straits to the north. Visible in my pictures here is Yamaguchi prefecture (a prefecture is somewhat akin to a province or state), highlighting for me, just how small Japan is. Mojiko is about 45 minutes away by highway.
Friday marked the last day for me, for any sort of cleaning, and that mostly burning more garbage. My mother will stay at least one more day, before visiting the grave of a relative Saturday morning and returning to Fukuoka in the afternoon.
A note about how I spent my "leisure" time in Nishihigashi. With nothing to do and it becoming very dark fairly early in the evening, I found myself going to bed at anywhere from 8 to 10 pm. Consequently, I would wake up between 3 - 5 am, and usually just lie in bed until 7-9 am, where upon my day would start again. Mostly, I read a couple of comic books I bought at the train station before I left Fukuoka, or chatted with my mom or grandma. Thankfully, I'm back in civilized lands now, and will have regular access to internet and other city distractions.
About 10:30 Friday morning, my cousin Miwa and her parents came to the ancestral manse to pick me up. A quick introduction to my family in Fukuoka. I'm staying with my Aunt and Uncle, Toshiko and Kenji. Kenji is my dad's older brother, and the middle of 3 boys (the oldest lives in a city to the south called Oita). They have 3 kids, a boy and two girls. The oldest is Makoto, my childhood friend, but about 5 years my senior. He's now got 2 kids of his own, 2 girls 2 years and 11 months old respectively, named Honoka and Ulala. Second is Fumi, whom I never really got to know, a problem that exists even today. This is mainly because, as a girl and older than both me and my brother, she never really paired off with either me or my brother. Youngest is Miwa, whom some of you already met, is 2 years younger than me. Mainly because of her visit to Toronto in December and early January, and our fairly closeness in age, I've been hanging out with her a lot more. Lastly, my other grandma (dad's side) lives in the same building as my aunt, uncle, and oldest cousin (he lives next door). I'll be sure to snap pics of the family soon.
I'm still not exactly sure where Space World is in relation to Fukuoka. Something tells me north-east, but that's just speculation. The original intention was to go to Spaceworld, spend a night in a hotel, then return leisurely on Saturday. Sadly, the hotel was booked solid (it was a risk we had already known), so it was just Spaceworld for the time being.
What to say about Spaceworld? Well, for one thing, it could just have been easily named Aquaworld, or Termiteworld, or Genericworld and be relatively unchanged. Think half of Canada's Wonderland with a little bit of NASA thrown in, and you get the idea. All in all, rather uninspiring.
Cool names such as Space Shaker and Titan couldn't really diffuse the overall blandness of the place.
Still, the trip itself was fun, as any place with roller coasters will be. There were 2, Venus and Titan. Venus featured more curves and Gees, while Titan had one big 60 metre drop. I'll say this: hook me up for a roller coaster any time. Lots of fun and excitement, leaving me wobble-legged and mildly disoriented afterwards.
Here's a quick pic of me and my cousin:
Spaceworld closed at 5pm, so we were off, this time to a pleasant little attraction called Mojiko. A place name, it is historic in that is has many houses and buildings erected and designed during the Meiji era. The Meiji era saw Japan modernize almost overnight, and the frankly Victorian influences are clear in the architecture. Where are the pics, you ask? There aren't any really, as I didn't find much to be interesting. The architecture is similar in many senses to the buildings in Toronto. Head out to Queen and Victoria, and walk south east and you'll get the same effect.
What I did find interesting was Honshu, Japan's biggest island, just across the straits to the north. Visible in my pictures here is Yamaguchi prefecture (a prefecture is somewhat akin to a province or state), highlighting for me, just how small Japan is. Mojiko is about 45 minutes away by highway.
It was the batteries, I swear!
Two days of real cleaning were about all we could manage. This entry comes separately because it marked a change in tempo for me.
My grandmother's sister lives on an island called Oshima, a 10 minute bus ride and a 20 minute boat ride away. To give you a sense of direction, Fukuoka lies about 1/2 way along the northern coast of Kyushu. Nishihigahi is in the Kita-Kyushu (Northern Kyushu) area, close to the tip of the island, north-east of Fukuoka. Oshima is even further north, in the Sea of Japan. It is a small island, some 4 kilometers around, and home to about 800 people, most of whom are fishermen. My mother's aunt lives in a tidy house shared by her son and family.
While the visit itself was fairly routine, it ended in a tour of the island. The lighthouse and observation platform high in the hills, but my day was made by the discovery of a WW2 bunker. Set in the peak of a high hill, it commanded a view of the shoreline below. Three gun emplacements, home to long since confiscated or destroyed artillery and AAA, were interspersed with slit trenches for the riflemen that would have protected the outpost. The bunker itself was concrete, build into the hilltop, with a pedestal, perhaps for a signalling apparatus, or a pair of field glasses (binoculars), or perhaps even a machinegun. Below were the barracks and storage rooms. Standing in the bunker, looking out through the slit at the sea, I could almost sense the long departed soldiers that once manned this position, standing beside me.
By now, you must be wondering where the photos of this monument to war must be. Alas, I must relate what will no doubt prove to be the most regretably travesty of my trip. Below is the only pic I was able to snap, just before the batteries in my camera died. I, of course, had no replacements. It is taken from the lip of a gun emplacement, and out of view some 10 metres behind me is the bunker.
Truly, a sad, sad day...
My grandmother's sister lives on an island called Oshima, a 10 minute bus ride and a 20 minute boat ride away. To give you a sense of direction, Fukuoka lies about 1/2 way along the northern coast of Kyushu. Nishihigahi is in the Kita-Kyushu (Northern Kyushu) area, close to the tip of the island, north-east of Fukuoka. Oshima is even further north, in the Sea of Japan. It is a small island, some 4 kilometers around, and home to about 800 people, most of whom are fishermen. My mother's aunt lives in a tidy house shared by her son and family.
While the visit itself was fairly routine, it ended in a tour of the island. The lighthouse and observation platform high in the hills, but my day was made by the discovery of a WW2 bunker. Set in the peak of a high hill, it commanded a view of the shoreline below. Three gun emplacements, home to long since confiscated or destroyed artillery and AAA, were interspersed with slit trenches for the riflemen that would have protected the outpost. The bunker itself was concrete, build into the hilltop, with a pedestal, perhaps for a signalling apparatus, or a pair of field glasses (binoculars), or perhaps even a machinegun. Below were the barracks and storage rooms. Standing in the bunker, looking out through the slit at the sea, I could almost sense the long departed soldiers that once manned this position, standing beside me.
By now, you must be wondering where the photos of this monument to war must be. Alas, I must relate what will no doubt prove to be the most regretably travesty of my trip. Below is the only pic I was able to snap, just before the batteries in my camera died. I, of course, had no replacements. It is taken from the lip of a gun emplacement, and out of view some 10 metres behind me is the bunker.
Truly, a sad, sad day...
A Quick and Bloody End
You'll have to excuse the editorializing. Some of this was written well after the events took place.
After a decent night's rest, a 20 minute train-ride and 20 minute taxi ride put us at the doorstep of the ancestral manse. My grandmother lives in a small, amalgamated town called Fukutsu.
Essentially a single street lined with densely packed houses, Nishihigashi (the village proper), has no convenience store, grocery store, any kind of store, but does have a karaoke bar and a "love hotel" grandly named Palais Versaille (you can see it in this picture).
I don't have a lot of pictures to share of my grandmother's house, mainly because the depths of the disarray were almost too much to bear. Needless to say, cleaning the whole house was an impossible task. Even a neat-freak super cleaner like my mother was humbled by the sheer enormity of the task. The following pic is an example of a single room, probably the cleanest.
What's not evident is the dust and grime that coated every surface. Though I'm sure my mother was joking, there was more than a hint of truth in her comments of the house not being cleaned since she left to make a new life in Canada 30 years ago.
Our job started almost the minute we arrived, and consisted mostly of scrubbing, hauling, and burning. Piled about were all manner of boxes, empty or full of old clothes or junk, as well as an assortment of unused and forgotten appliances. The firepit that burned away the old and discarded, while not technically legal, helped us do away with things that would have made our lives all the more difficult had we had to find a place (even if only temporary) for them.
More surprising, however, was the cold. My vain pride in being born and raised in the Great White North crumbled under the onslaught of single-digit temperatures. In Canada, we face these kinds of temperatures without batting an eye, secure in the knowledge that we return to homes with central heating, R-value insulation, and warm beds. My grandmother's house had only the last, and a almost constant draft made life outside of the futon an almost unbearable affair. I can honestly say without hyperbole that I have never been so cold in my life.
There are of course coping strategies for the cold. A space heater, socks and layers, and hot baths all keep the cold at bay. The last proved interesting. In a Japanese bath, one cleans the body first before stepping into a deep bath whose water is reheated and changed only once every few days. The lack of a showerhead was disturbing, as it forced me to take what amounted to a sponge bath to clean myself. Remember that no part of the house is heated, and this includes the bathroom (literally in this case, as the bath is located on the otherside of the house from the toilet, just passed a kitchen that would give Ramsay a real nightmare).
Yet despite these deprivations, I'd like to state that ultimately, I truly enjoyed my time in this ancestral manse. For my whole life, my grandmother has been an almost hermitic creature, a mystery to me and a virtual stranger in my life. Yet over the course of 3 days in her home, I discovered a wonderful person, quick to laugh and ever ensuring that I was never for want of food or drink. On a more spiritual note, I visited the shrine where my great-grandparents' ashes are kept. After I left, I felt a little melancholy and introspective. For the first time in my life, I felt as if I was truly connected to spirits of my mother's ancestors, living and dearly departed. I am so glad that I was able, in a sense, to come home.
I'll end this entry with a few shots of the shrine, and various other sundry items...
After a decent night's rest, a 20 minute train-ride and 20 minute taxi ride put us at the doorstep of the ancestral manse. My grandmother lives in a small, amalgamated town called Fukutsu.
Essentially a single street lined with densely packed houses, Nishihigashi (the village proper), has no convenience store, grocery store, any kind of store, but does have a karaoke bar and a "love hotel" grandly named Palais Versaille (you can see it in this picture).
I don't have a lot of pictures to share of my grandmother's house, mainly because the depths of the disarray were almost too much to bear. Needless to say, cleaning the whole house was an impossible task. Even a neat-freak super cleaner like my mother was humbled by the sheer enormity of the task. The following pic is an example of a single room, probably the cleanest.
What's not evident is the dust and grime that coated every surface. Though I'm sure my mother was joking, there was more than a hint of truth in her comments of the house not being cleaned since she left to make a new life in Canada 30 years ago.
Our job started almost the minute we arrived, and consisted mostly of scrubbing, hauling, and burning. Piled about were all manner of boxes, empty or full of old clothes or junk, as well as an assortment of unused and forgotten appliances. The firepit that burned away the old and discarded, while not technically legal, helped us do away with things that would have made our lives all the more difficult had we had to find a place (even if only temporary) for them.
More surprising, however, was the cold. My vain pride in being born and raised in the Great White North crumbled under the onslaught of single-digit temperatures. In Canada, we face these kinds of temperatures without batting an eye, secure in the knowledge that we return to homes with central heating, R-value insulation, and warm beds. My grandmother's house had only the last, and a almost constant draft made life outside of the futon an almost unbearable affair. I can honestly say without hyperbole that I have never been so cold in my life.
There are of course coping strategies for the cold. A space heater, socks and layers, and hot baths all keep the cold at bay. The last proved interesting. In a Japanese bath, one cleans the body first before stepping into a deep bath whose water is reheated and changed only once every few days. The lack of a showerhead was disturbing, as it forced me to take what amounted to a sponge bath to clean myself. Remember that no part of the house is heated, and this includes the bathroom (literally in this case, as the bath is located on the otherside of the house from the toilet, just passed a kitchen that would give Ramsay a real nightmare).
Yet despite these deprivations, I'd like to state that ultimately, I truly enjoyed my time in this ancestral manse. For my whole life, my grandmother has been an almost hermitic creature, a mystery to me and a virtual stranger in my life. Yet over the course of 3 days in her home, I discovered a wonderful person, quick to laugh and ever ensuring that I was never for want of food or drink. On a more spiritual note, I visited the shrine where my great-grandparents' ashes are kept. After I left, I felt a little melancholy and introspective. For the first time in my life, I felt as if I was truly connected to spirits of my mother's ancestors, living and dearly departed. I am so glad that I was able, in a sense, to come home.
I'll end this entry with a few shots of the shrine, and various other sundry items...
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