By the way... sorry about the other night (yesterday). The guys building a monster home across the street hit some cables and down went my Internet, television and telephone... for almost 24 hours!
The guys at the cable company were surprised to learn that people in my neighbourhood were without service. They asked me why I didn't call them sooner. I told them I didn't have any telephone service (again). They asked why I didn't use my cell phone. I don't have one, I told them. This stunned the person trying to help me, as apparently I am the only person in Canada without a cellphone. Hey! No one is belling THIS cat, Roger that!
(Bell and Rogers are two of the bigger telecommunications companies in Canada). They then attempted to sell me on a new cell phone and plan - rather than work at resolving the main problem of me not having any services. Idiots.
It's Friday, August 30, 1991.
I have to go into work -- the Ohtawara Board of Education (OBOE) - I do, and spend it putting together some of my prefectural newsletter for the English-speaking teachers in Tochigi-ken (Prefecture of Tochigi).
I leave at 11AM and head back home.
My mom is leaving Ohtawara-shi (City of Ohtawara) to go back to Toronto.
I change clothes and then carry my mom's two suitcases downstairs. The taxi comes at exactly 1PM, per my friend Naoko's orders.
We travel via Shinkansen (bullet train) from Nasushiobara-eki (Nasushiobara train station) down to Ueno-eki (Ueno train station) in Tokyo, and then hop aboard a Skyliner shuttle train to Narita airport in Chiba-ken (Chiba Prefecture).
My mom is talking a lot to me, but I have to admit I am kind of stunned, and I have no idea what she said to me. While the first part of our vacation together worked out great for me (we met in Thailand where I abandoned her in the evenings after sight-seeing together, to go and hook up with a security guard and waitress at our hotel for awesome fun sexual times). The middle part I was moody, but luckily she went off on her own to see Japan herself. When she got back - well, let's just say the last three days were great thanks to the efforts of Ohtawara International Friendship Association, friends Naoko and Tokunori, and the OBOE. Without their help I fear she might have had a crappy time with me. Instead I have memories to last a lifetime--and now after putting it here in this blog, it will last until we get hit by an EMP (electro-magnetic pulse) that could wipe out computers and thus civilization as we know it. EMPs are usually caused by nuclear weapons et al. Let's hope that never happens.
At the airport, we have our last snack together: an apple pie and an espresso for her, and a banana choco-pie and a beer for me. I just love that you can get such a wide mix of stuff at a kiosk in Japan.
Then we say our good-byes. See you next year... maybe. I really do like Japan a lot, and am already thinking of staying a third year. I wish I could even stay longer, but the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme only allows participants to stay a total of three years--if their educational office wants them of course.
I'm not sad or depressed or anything... but rather glad... glad I got to spend some time with her. I didn't realize she would be dead in two years.
I go out and purchase some magazines--one of which I will utilize in a blog tomorrow to explain a few things about Japanese culture and language (I hope).
Heading home via bullet train, it's packed and I have to stand all the way... probably making some Japanese person a little afraid that the big gaijin (foreigner) is looking down her top. I was, but she had no reason to be afraid... I mean, it's nothing I haven't seen before - especially since arriving here in Japan 13 months ago.
Back at the train station, I'm too tired top bother going down to a closer train station and then catching a bus home, so I just take a taxi all the way.
Arriving home at 9:30PM, I fry and egg or two, drink a Coke and watch some videos of Tiny Toons that my brother, Ben, had taped for me. Ben, by the way, won an Emmy award for writing for Roly Poly Ollie, a kids cartoon/computer-generated show that won best children's television program... all of the writers got one. That was maybe 10 years later. I do recall that at home, we had to enlarge all of the doors at the top so he could fit his head through there! I kid. I'm proud of my entire family.
Back in Ohtawara-shi, Matthew - ever the good friend - calls to see if things went well for my mom's departure. I assume so. After chatting for a few minutes, I suddenly hit a wall and get very tired and am actually in bed at 11PM.
Somewhere in my apartment by myself,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by Queen: EASYCOMEEASYGO.
PS: It is speculated the song is about lead singer Freddie Mercury personal demons with relationships. I'll just leave it at that and not speculate any further... but I think I just figured out that personal demons with relationships - that's what my ramblings of my past are all about. I'm not gay - not that there's anything wrong with that in my opinion... but really, life is all about relationships. Work, home, whatever. I can't write a cool song like this, so I do this blog. It's not in the same league, of course, but one does the best one can.
PPS: Lots more to come.
Showing posts with label Airport. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Airport. Show all posts
Back In The Saddle
Airports... I hate'em.
I've been in Thailand and Tokyo without my sunglasses for an entire week now. People who know me realize that's not something I am happy with. It was probably because when I left Japan it was raining.
Thailand while drizzling rain, was quite bright.
I've worn sunglasses atop my face since I switched from photo-grey sunglasses (that get darker when the sun gets brighter) to wearing contact lenses when I was 17.
But, even without sunglasses, I met and 'dated' two Thai women with looks that would make anyone's head spin in amazement. Amazement that they were with me, I suppose. Hey.... I have a very large... what's that "p-word"? Oh yeah... personality. Plus I'm hung like a donkey. I'm kidding. I'm such an ass.
Mom and I get a chauffeur-driven limo ride from our Bangkok hotel to the airport.
I should mention that there were quite a few young ladies there at the hotel to see me off. Waving and giggling. Boon-mee and Tookta were there too. It was quite the nice send-off. I didn't know the other women, but I did recognize most as being staff from the hotel.
I'm just going to assume they didn't provide a send-off like this to everyone. It even made my mom wonder aloud to me if I had actually slept with all of those women. I wish... but I didn't have enough time or condoms or fluid in the five days here.
Despite me meeting my mom here in Bangkok, it did not get in my way at all, sexually. I should point out that I was supposed to go to Thailand in December with Ashley... but after she broke up with me, our plans went down the toilet. After we got back together again six days later, all of the flights were miraculously booked up... so WE were out of luck.
Ashley, however, had made arrangements to go to Thailand with some of the other female assistant English teachers from the Tochigi-ken (Tochigi Prefecture) JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme. It's probably why I hate quite a few of them. They got Ashley a ticket.
On the negative side... I didn't get to go anywhere last winter...
On the plus side... I stayed and experienced Christmas and New Year's Eve and Day in Japan! Awesome! HERE have a read. I spent it with Matthew - my most excellent friend from Binghamton, who lives in my hometown of Ohtawra-shi in Japan. Plus his boss, Suzuki-sensei (Suzuki teacher) and my friend Kanemaru-san (Mr. Kanemaru) and his family. Kanemaru-san is one of my bosses with the Ohtawara Board of Education (OBOE).
On the plus + plus side... I went to Thailand and hung out with two sexually-charged young women who showed me and themselves the time of their lives! I sure as heck would not have experienced that if I was with Ashley... at least I don't think so. Hmmm.
On the plane, we experience some wicked turbulence. The food is still plane food - crap. And the movie? It's the same one I saw coming to Thailand! L.A. Story (?!) At least I see the title this time!
At Japan's Narita Airport, it's now 7PM. At Japan Customs, they confiscatemy Thai sword. It's not like it's sharp! Why confiscate it? I can buy a longer and more dangerous Japanese sword here! Jerks. No one can speak English.
Apparently I can pick it up within six months when I leave the country... but I'm not leaving! No one understands that! Oh well... the police have it now. Forget about the fact that I actually carried it with me on my carry-on luggage on theplane! Man.. things were different then, eh?
Customs searches my Mom's stuff and confiscate my passport for an hour, beforefinally giving it back and letting us go on our way. Who knew a sword was a dangerous weapon? I'm such an idiot sometimes.
We grab a Skyliner back to Ueno-eki (Ueno train station) in downtown Tokyo. It's now pouring rain.
We catch the second-last Shinkansen (bullet train) up to Nasushiobara-eki (Nasushiobara train station). Unfortunately, we have to go two stopssouth on the local train line to get to Nishiansuno-machi (NishinasunoTown)... before catching a bus to my city of Ohtawara.
Unfortunately, at Nasushiobara, there are no more local trains going that evening, so we take a long and expensive taxi ride back to my apartment. We arrive at 11:30PM.
My mom cooks up a few eggs for us, but unfortunately... I now have dysentery, courtesy of a few ice cubes in my Coke in Thailand. I guess it could have been worse... it could have been hepatitis!
Somewhere, the King of Ohtawara is back on his throne,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by Aerosmith: I'M BAAACCCCK!!
I've been in Thailand and Tokyo without my sunglasses for an entire week now. People who know me realize that's not something I am happy with. It was probably because when I left Japan it was raining.
Thailand while drizzling rain, was quite bright.
I've worn sunglasses atop my face since I switched from photo-grey sunglasses (that get darker when the sun gets brighter) to wearing contact lenses when I was 17.
But, even without sunglasses, I met and 'dated' two Thai women with looks that would make anyone's head spin in amazement. Amazement that they were with me, I suppose. Hey.... I have a very large... what's that "p-word"? Oh yeah... personality. Plus I'm hung like a donkey. I'm kidding. I'm such an ass.
Mom and I get a chauffeur-driven limo ride from our Bangkok hotel to the airport.
I should mention that there were quite a few young ladies there at the hotel to see me off. Waving and giggling. Boon-mee and Tookta were there too. It was quite the nice send-off. I didn't know the other women, but I did recognize most as being staff from the hotel.
I'm just going to assume they didn't provide a send-off like this to everyone. It even made my mom wonder aloud to me if I had actually slept with all of those women. I wish... but I didn't have enough time or condoms or fluid in the five days here.
Despite me meeting my mom here in Bangkok, it did not get in my way at all, sexually. I should point out that I was supposed to go to Thailand in December with Ashley... but after she broke up with me, our plans went down the toilet. After we got back together again six days later, all of the flights were miraculously booked up... so WE were out of luck.
Ashley, however, had made arrangements to go to Thailand with some of the other female assistant English teachers from the Tochigi-ken (Tochigi Prefecture) JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme. It's probably why I hate quite a few of them. They got Ashley a ticket.
On the negative side... I didn't get to go anywhere last winter...
On the plus side... I stayed and experienced Christmas and New Year's Eve and Day in Japan! Awesome! HERE have a read. I spent it with Matthew - my most excellent friend from Binghamton, who lives in my hometown of Ohtawra-shi in Japan. Plus his boss, Suzuki-sensei (Suzuki teacher) and my friend Kanemaru-san (Mr. Kanemaru) and his family. Kanemaru-san is one of my bosses with the Ohtawara Board of Education (OBOE).
On the plus + plus side... I went to Thailand and hung out with two sexually-charged young women who showed me and themselves the time of their lives! I sure as heck would not have experienced that if I was with Ashley... at least I don't think so. Hmmm.
On the plane, we experience some wicked turbulence. The food is still plane food - crap. And the movie? It's the same one I saw coming to Thailand! L.A. Story (?!) At least I see the title this time!
At Japan's Narita Airport, it's now 7PM. At Japan Customs, they confiscatemy Thai sword. It's not like it's sharp! Why confiscate it? I can buy a longer and more dangerous Japanese sword here! Jerks. No one can speak English.
Apparently I can pick it up within six months when I leave the country... but I'm not leaving! No one understands that! Oh well... the police have it now. Forget about the fact that I actually carried it with me on my carry-on luggage on theplane! Man.. things were different then, eh?
Customs searches my Mom's stuff and confiscate my passport for an hour, beforefinally giving it back and letting us go on our way. Who knew a sword was a dangerous weapon? I'm such an idiot sometimes.
We grab a Skyliner back to Ueno-eki (Ueno train station) in downtown Tokyo. It's now pouring rain.
We catch the second-last Shinkansen (bullet train) up to Nasushiobara-eki (Nasushiobara train station). Unfortunately, we have to go two stopssouth on the local train line to get to Nishiansuno-machi (NishinasunoTown)... before catching a bus to my city of Ohtawara.
Unfortunately, at Nasushiobara, there are no more local trains going that evening, so we take a long and expensive taxi ride back to my apartment. We arrive at 11:30PM.
My mom cooks up a few eggs for us, but unfortunately... I now have dysentery, courtesy of a few ice cubes in my Coke in Thailand. I guess it could have been worse... it could have been hepatitis!
Somewhere, the King of Ohtawara is back on his throne,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by Aerosmith: I'M BAAACCCCK!!
One Night In Bangkok
It's Wednesday, August 7, 1991 and I'm just outside of Tokyo, Japan at my new friend Rory's apartment.
I'm up at 5:45 in the morning. Who knew there was also a 5:45 in the morning?
I'm out of Rory's place at 6:25AM, and with Rory lending me a hand on a train towards Ueno-eki (Ueno (station) by 7AM. Thanks Rory! And sayonara (good bye)!
Arriving at Ueno by 8AM, I hope a shuttle train towards Tokyo's Narita airport that is actually located in Chiba-ken, arriving at 9:10AM.
I go through the ticket registration and customs by 10AM and board my plane to Thailand at 10:30AM. It's insane.
The plane is delayed by 30 minutes thanks to traffic, so we don't actually leave until 11:30AM. Traffic? Don't they know when planes are coming and going? I've never really understood delays of 30 minutes or longer. Five minutes sure... but planes—especially in Japan—should run with clockwork efficiency like their train system!
The stewardesses on the Thai airline are all freaking gorgeous. They are all Thia, wearing purple, look young, and smell great. They also speak excellent English and treat me like we've just spent a couple of hot sweaty hours together... which I dream of with each and every one of them. Come one! Doesn't anyone want to initiate me into the Mile High Club?
Of course, I'm lucky... but just not that lucky.
There's a book on my seat that describes how to count to 100 in Thia and how to say hello (Sawetai) and how to say thank you as a male (Kop koon krap) and as a female (Kop koon kah). I master it all before we actually lift off from Narita airport.
The plane food is just that—plain and blah. I've been on the go for nearly seven hours, and it's not even noon. I am exhausted... probably too tired to join the Mile High Club is asked, but I'm not, so the point is moot.
There's some Steve Martin movie on that lampoons the Los Angeles attitude, but since I miss the title, I have no idea why I even mention it. Tired.
I need to go to the washroom, but I don't have time... and quite frankly, I'm afraid I'm going to do something awful that will hamper any opportunity for a Mile High Club invitation from a stewardess. I didn't see any women passengers on the plane.
I guess Thailand's reputation as a sex industry is well founded, as most of the people on the plane look pretty shady. The rest look quite respectable and after their sex tour—which Thailand does offer—ˆ'm sure the suits will be playing golf.
In fact, as we are landing, I notice a golf course right beside the damn airport runway. It must have some tricky holes, what with the out of control air currents caused by passing jet plane.
Arriving within the Bangkok airport, I look around for my mom, who has flown out from Toronto to meet me here for a few days before we travel back to Ohatawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan.
I must be the only normal man to have actually traveled to Thailand to hang out with his mother.
I get there.... there's no mom... no promised tour guide... and I don't know which hotel she has booked for us... I'm lost. As I am physically attempting to call my father back in Canada to ask about Mom and the hotel, I happen to glance around and see my mom, Lynda Joseph, standing a mere five feet away.
One year later she still looks the same, and that's cool by me. Hug, hug, kiss, kiss.
Toki, our guide is really cute and very short. She scoots us away in a van, but since it's now rush hour in Bangkok, we sit in traffic for a while. I really should have gone to the washroom on the plane.
It begins to rain, and hard, and floods a few low-lying roads, and it doesn't let up. Apparently, this is the beginning of the rainy season here... or it's because I'm traveling that it has chosen to rain.
We arrive at out awesome looking hotel in one hour and 15 minutes.
After a quick shower et al, we go to dinner. Our waitresses is freaking hot. She is also smiling at me constantly, even more when I explain that the older pretty woman I am with is merely my mother. After that this woman is constantly hovering around me, filling up my beer, touching my shoulders, and rubbing herself up against my back as she leans over to pour food. Her name is Tookta, which means, and I kid you not, 'Baby Doll".
I've never played with dolls before, but it looks like there will be a first time before this trip is over.
I order a chili fish... two things I would normally never eat back in Toronto. I may be of Indian descent, but aside from the colour of my skin, I'm not very Indian. The fish is even hotter than Tookta, as I have beads of sweat popping up on my brow as I eat all of it. In fact... sweat forms on my sweat. It amuses both my mom and Tookta who gently wipes away my sweat with her hand.
If my mother wasn't sure before, she realized then that our waitress really liked me. For reference... I looked like a Thai man... only about four inches taller, much wider... and I'm only talking about what I keep in my underwear. We're both dark in complexion, have dark brown eyes and black hair. But being bigger, it's obvious that I am in high demand here, as I glance around and see a number of waitresses smiling at me. I guess the stewardesses may not have been really Thai.
Besides... all of these Thai waitresses are all maybe 21-23, and seem eager to try out the Canadian cuisine. In my head, Tookta has first dibs.
I did mention that she kept filling me up with beer. It was something called Singha, which essentially is Thai for 'lion dog'.
After dinner (we were only charged for a single beer), we tip Tookta very well, she comes up from behind me puts her right arm around my shoulder, her left hand down on my left hand, grabs the money while kissing me on the left cheek, quietly whispering that she hopes she will see me again.
My mother had already left to go the the ladies room... and she was the one who had paid for our meal (and pretty damn near everything else on this trip!), so Tookta was brave, but brave with some decorum.
After my mom and I head back to the single hotel room with two Queen-sized beds, we chat for awhile about life, the universe and everything, with me kidding her about never sending me anything I needed, to which she replies she won't bother sending me anymore boxes of condoms. Owtch. Asia is going have alot of kids looking like me!
Hey Matthew! You think I snore like a jet plane with asthma? You never heard my mom! Her snoring kept me awake for so long that I got up and went for a walk. How the heck does my dad stand it?
On the plus side... it's about 1AM as I walk near the hotel restaurant and see Tookta walking out. She runs over, smiles and walks with me for a few minutes until we find some privacy.
What's nice, is that I've seen more of Tookta than I have of Thailand.
God I love internationalization. Oh Canada!
Somewhere I love Thailand and Thailand loves...
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by Murray Head: HARDMANHUMBLE
I'm up at 5:45 in the morning. Who knew there was also a 5:45 in the morning?
I'm out of Rory's place at 6:25AM, and with Rory lending me a hand on a train towards Ueno-eki (Ueno (station) by 7AM. Thanks Rory! And sayonara (good bye)!
Arriving at Ueno by 8AM, I hope a shuttle train towards Tokyo's Narita airport that is actually located in Chiba-ken, arriving at 9:10AM.
I go through the ticket registration and customs by 10AM and board my plane to Thailand at 10:30AM. It's insane.
The plane is delayed by 30 minutes thanks to traffic, so we don't actually leave until 11:30AM. Traffic? Don't they know when planes are coming and going? I've never really understood delays of 30 minutes or longer. Five minutes sure... but planes—especially in Japan—should run with clockwork efficiency like their train system!
The stewardesses on the Thai airline are all freaking gorgeous. They are all Thia, wearing purple, look young, and smell great. They also speak excellent English and treat me like we've just spent a couple of hot sweaty hours together... which I dream of with each and every one of them. Come one! Doesn't anyone want to initiate me into the Mile High Club?
Of course, I'm lucky... but just not that lucky.
There's a book on my seat that describes how to count to 100 in Thia and how to say hello (Sawetai) and how to say thank you as a male (Kop koon krap) and as a female (Kop koon kah). I master it all before we actually lift off from Narita airport.
The plane food is just that—plain and blah. I've been on the go for nearly seven hours, and it's not even noon. I am exhausted... probably too tired to join the Mile High Club is asked, but I'm not, so the point is moot.
There's some Steve Martin movie on that lampoons the Los Angeles attitude, but since I miss the title, I have no idea why I even mention it. Tired.
I need to go to the washroom, but I don't have time... and quite frankly, I'm afraid I'm going to do something awful that will hamper any opportunity for a Mile High Club invitation from a stewardess. I didn't see any women passengers on the plane.
I guess Thailand's reputation as a sex industry is well founded, as most of the people on the plane look pretty shady. The rest look quite respectable and after their sex tour—which Thailand does offer—ˆ'm sure the suits will be playing golf.
In fact, as we are landing, I notice a golf course right beside the damn airport runway. It must have some tricky holes, what with the out of control air currents caused by passing jet plane.
Arriving within the Bangkok airport, I look around for my mom, who has flown out from Toronto to meet me here for a few days before we travel back to Ohatawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan.
I must be the only normal man to have actually traveled to Thailand to hang out with his mother.
I get there.... there's no mom... no promised tour guide... and I don't know which hotel she has booked for us... I'm lost. As I am physically attempting to call my father back in Canada to ask about Mom and the hotel, I happen to glance around and see my mom, Lynda Joseph, standing a mere five feet away.
One year later she still looks the same, and that's cool by me. Hug, hug, kiss, kiss.
Toki, our guide is really cute and very short. She scoots us away in a van, but since it's now rush hour in Bangkok, we sit in traffic for a while. I really should have gone to the washroom on the plane.
It begins to rain, and hard, and floods a few low-lying roads, and it doesn't let up. Apparently, this is the beginning of the rainy season here... or it's because I'm traveling that it has chosen to rain.
We arrive at out awesome looking hotel in one hour and 15 minutes.
After a quick shower et al, we go to dinner. Our waitresses is freaking hot. She is also smiling at me constantly, even more when I explain that the older pretty woman I am with is merely my mother. After that this woman is constantly hovering around me, filling up my beer, touching my shoulders, and rubbing herself up against my back as she leans over to pour food. Her name is Tookta, which means, and I kid you not, 'Baby Doll".
I've never played with dolls before, but it looks like there will be a first time before this trip is over.
I order a chili fish... two things I would normally never eat back in Toronto. I may be of Indian descent, but aside from the colour of my skin, I'm not very Indian. The fish is even hotter than Tookta, as I have beads of sweat popping up on my brow as I eat all of it. In fact... sweat forms on my sweat. It amuses both my mom and Tookta who gently wipes away my sweat with her hand.
If my mother wasn't sure before, she realized then that our waitress really liked me. For reference... I looked like a Thai man... only about four inches taller, much wider... and I'm only talking about what I keep in my underwear. We're both dark in complexion, have dark brown eyes and black hair. But being bigger, it's obvious that I am in high demand here, as I glance around and see a number of waitresses smiling at me. I guess the stewardesses may not have been really Thai.
Besides... all of these Thai waitresses are all maybe 21-23, and seem eager to try out the Canadian cuisine. In my head, Tookta has first dibs.
I did mention that she kept filling me up with beer. It was something called Singha, which essentially is Thai for 'lion dog'.
After dinner (we were only charged for a single beer), we tip Tookta very well, she comes up from behind me puts her right arm around my shoulder, her left hand down on my left hand, grabs the money while kissing me on the left cheek, quietly whispering that she hopes she will see me again.
My mother had already left to go the the ladies room... and she was the one who had paid for our meal (and pretty damn near everything else on this trip!), so Tookta was brave, but brave with some decorum.
After my mom and I head back to the single hotel room with two Queen-sized beds, we chat for awhile about life, the universe and everything, with me kidding her about never sending me anything I needed, to which she replies she won't bother sending me anymore boxes of condoms. Owtch. Asia is going have alot of kids looking like me!
Hey Matthew! You think I snore like a jet plane with asthma? You never heard my mom! Her snoring kept me awake for so long that I got up and went for a walk. How the heck does my dad stand it?
On the plus side... it's about 1AM as I walk near the hotel restaurant and see Tookta walking out. She runs over, smiles and walks with me for a few minutes until we find some privacy.
What's nice, is that I've seen more of Tookta than I have of Thailand.
God I love internationalization. Oh Canada!
Somewhere I love Thailand and Thailand loves...
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by Murray Head: HARDMANHUMBLE
Golden Week Travel Down
On Friday,April 29, 2011, Japan was abuzz with folks traveling across thecountry and abroad for the annual Golden Week holidays – though relative topast years, the number of travelers appears to be down following the March 11,2011earthquake and tsunami disaster.
Atthe onset of the 10-day vacation period through May 8, railway stations andairports in Tokyo were jammed with people traveling to tourist spots or theirhometowns.
TheTohoku Shinkansen Line resumed full services throughout its route from Tokyo toShin-Aomori Station the same day, recovering from disruptions nearly 50 daysafter being stricken by the disaster. Seat reservations at Japan Railwaycompanies and airlines were down compared to past years
AtNarita International Airport (the so-called Tokyo Airport), the number ofpassengers using the airport during Golden Week is expected to be half of otheryears, as the disaster and the massive accident at the crippled Fukushima-ken (Fukushima Prefecture)Dai-ichi (Big One) nuclear plant have discouraged people from going abroad.
Still,tourist traffic made a relatively solid start at the onset of this year’s longholiday.
EastJapan Railway Co. said shinkansen (bullet) trains on its Tohoku, Yamagata and AkitaShinkansen lines were congested, though there were some vacant seats.
Thefirst service of the day by the new Hayabusa bullet train was sold out by noonThursday. The first new model developed by JR East since 1997 began its serviceon March 5, 2011 but was suspended only six days later with the magnitude 9.0quake and began operations again on April 29, 2011.
Onthe Tokaido Shinkansen Line of Central Japan Railway Co., or JR Tokai, thenumber of passengers on the train that departed at 6AM. was at 30 per centabove capacity.
Onthe Tomei Expressway linking the cities of Tokyo and Nagoya, a 49-kilometre traffic jam was seenin Isehara-shi (Isehara City), Kanagawa-ken (Kanegawa Prefecture).
AtTokyo’s Haneda airport, flights departing for domestic airports were almostfull.
AtNarita International Airport, the departure lobby was seen bustling with manyfamilies departing for overseas tourist spots like Guam, Hawaii and Europeancountries, although the number of people departing from it Friday is estimatedat only 26,300, down a sharp 20,000 from 2010.
Filesby Andrew Joseph
Sendai Airport & Baseball Season Open
Just when everyone seems to think Japan's northeast will never really get back to normal - the mere passing of 24 hours and two events has helped dispel that notion.
On April 13, 2011 - 33 days after a 9.0 Magnitude earthquake and 10 metre (30-foot) high tsunami heavily damaged the Sendai region of Japan - two unrelated events marked triumphs for the hard-hit area - and country.
The Sendai Airport - heavily damaged by the tsunami - VIDEO HERE--welcomed Japan Airlines Flight 4721 marking the opening of the airport to commercial service at 8AM.
While the flight marked the beginning of flights to and from the area, airport officials warned it is still not up to full capacity and it may take a while before full airport operations take place, though six daily flights between Tokyo and Osaka on JAL (Japan Airlines) and ANA (All Nippon Airways) airlines are happening now.
As well, the day before on April 12, 2011 and about 322 kilometres (200 miles) to the south, the Sendai Tohoku Rakuten Golden Eagles baseball team played and won the Pacific League's 2011 season opener.
Sendai beat the Chiba Lotte Marines - last year's JBL (Japan Baseball League) Japan Series champions - by a score of 6-4 at Chiba Lotte's QVC Marine Field in Chiba-ken (Chiba Prefecture) near Tokyo. It will still be another four to six weeks before Sendai's Miyagi baseball stadium is refurbished.
Earlier - on April 12, 2011, well before the game, a strong 6.4 Magnitude earthquake hit northeastern Chiba at 8:08AM (six people died in landslides). The day before at 5:16 PM on April 11, 2011 a stronger 7.1 earthquake hit with an epicentre about 50 kilometres from Fukushima-ken's (Fukushima Prefecture's) troubled Dai-ichi (Big One) nuclear facility. The US Geological Survey, however, measured the April 11 quake at 6.6 Magnitude
During the ball game on April 12, 2011, another 6.3 Magnitude quake hit both Fukushima-ken and Ibaraki-ken (Ibaraki Prefecture)--which was felt in Chiba-ken--during the fourth inning of the game, rocking the stadium and causing a slight delay. While there was some panic, most fans stayed to watch the whole game.
Whether or not you think it's important to note that baseball was played while people are still suffering - it is. It's to provide a glimpse--just like with the re-opening of the airport--that things are getting back to normal. Baseball - just as it is in America - has become a part of Japan's lifesblood.
Somewhere you can feel Japan's pulse getting stronger,
Andrew Joseph
Now Get Busy
 |
| This is a Suzuki - just not one mentioned below. |
For your edification, here now is a story written by one Matthew Hall, a fellow AET (Assistant English Teacher) on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme originally from the State of New York, U.S.A. and now living in the great State of Vermont. Matthew continues to be one of my best friends. He was a lifesaver for me in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan where we both lived. I taught at the seven junior high school (chu gakko) in the city, and Matthew taught at a bunch of chu gakko in the smaller villages and hamlets surrounding Ohtawara. Perhaps Matthew--a regular reader of this blog--would consent to tell us what schools he taught at and maybe even offer up a guest column about HIS teaching experiences (or his wedding ceremony).
In the meantime, let's check out the story he submitted to ye editor of the Tatami Times AET newsletter for Tochigi-ken back in April of 1991. It was my first issue as editor of the thing... which means I was responsible for photocopying it and mailing it out to all dues-paying JET members in our Prefecture (State/Province) of Tochigi. (Bracketed material is ME being helpful to you loyal readers.)
Not A Care In The World
by Matthew J. Hall
One winter day, the Suzuki's woke up all genki (feeling fine) for the vacation that was going to start. Not a care in the world.
Mama-Suzuki was up first and threw open the blinds.
"Bikurishita (Wow - as in a surprise)!" she screamed. All the kids scrambled around her to see what was the matter.
"Hora! (Look!) Look at all the snow! A mother-of-a-storm has hit!"
Their eyes, wide open, absorbed the horrendous weather.
Baby-Suzuki asked, "Doshiokana? (Now what do we do?) Our tiny car will never get through the roads now! We were depending on clear roads!"
"Hmmm...," the mother thought.
Papa-Suzuki said, "We should do something."
"Hai (Yes), we should," retorted Sister-Suzuki.
"So desu ne (I agree)," agreed Brother-Suzuki.
".............. We should do something," Papa-Suzuki said.
"Hai, so desu ne (Yes, I agree)," Mama-Suzuki muttered.
".............. Hora! Gaijin-duh (Look! A foreigner/outsider!... though the correct spelling is 'da'... Matthew chose the 'duh' version implying stupidity)!" screamed Baby-Suzuki, pointing his finger madly at a blonde-haired, blue-eyed foreigner shoveling his way down the street.
"Maybe if we pay him, he can shovel the road clear so we can get to the airport and enjoy our vacation," said Papa-Suzuki.
"Yeah, let's ask him. I'm bored from sitting at home playing Famicom (Nintendo's videogame system circa 1985)," whined Brother-Suzuki.
"What do you think?" asked mama-Suzuki. "Do you think $4 will make him happy?"
"No. Better make it $9," yawned Papa-Suzuki, rubbing the sleep away from his eyes.
Needless to say, Mr. Gaijin agreed - after a little haggling - to do the job. Mr. 'G' was making good distance when suddenly everything cleared up. The sun came out, the snow melted away. The Suzuki's jumped for joy! All their problems went away!
Papa-Suzuki belted out, "Let's get to Narita (Airport). Don't want to miss our flight."
And the Suzuki's went to Narita, with all the other Suzuki's. Off to enjoy their vacations without a care in the world.
Somewhere at home on vacation,
Andrew Joseph & wherever the heck Matthew is - probably doing something fun!
Today's blog title is performed by The Beastie Boys: AMERICANIDLE
 |
| Photo of Matthew taken at his apartment. It's not small, Matthew is just tall. |
PPS: I'm guessing Matthew's story relates to the average Japanese person's ability to be indecisive when things need to be done. And remember... this was written after we had only been in Japan for about six months. Of course... if the story means something else, I'm sure Matthew will tell us!
PPPS: In the topmost photo, Suzuki-san is actually trying to figure out the Ninetendo Gameboy Matthew bought me.
Vacation
This was originally entitled: The Sights, The Sounds, The Smells
This story takes place during my third year in Japan. Ashley had already left Japan to go back to Georgia, and I'm afraid we didn't depart as friends, which sucks in an immature way. Sorry, kiddo.
Now is the winter of my discontent. I had just spent the past several months getting back into physical shape - I'll tell you how in the next blog! I was essentially girlfriend-less for the first time since arriving, though I was still able to sleep with anything that moved. At least that's what I'm telling you all right now.
While Matthew was still indeed in Japan, he was very much involved with Takako - the beautiful local Ohtawara girl who would become his wife in a year or so. Matthew is not in this adventure.
As a young, hip guy with hair longer than his memory, I planned a winter vacation to Singapore with two other AETs - Tim Mould, and James (Jimmy Jive) Dalton. While Tim was deviously quiet and funny, Jimmy Jive was outrageously funny. He's a fellow Canuck - from Stoney Creek, Ontario - and if anyone knows of his current whereabouts, please drop me a line.
We left Japan's Narita Airport in the early evening, and arrived at Changi Airport in Singapore at 1AM local time. Because we're stupid guys, we didn't plan ahead and book a hotel. We were going to run and gun it the entire time.
We found a flop house that cost us each Y700 ($7). We got what we paid for.
It was a single room with a large king-sized bed and a shared bathroom.
After the flight, none of us had time to go to the washroom, so our priorities really had to go. Opening the bathroom door, we saw a cockroach the size of a beagle sitting on the toilet reading a newspaper. It looked over at us, wiggled its antennae, and hissed something incomprehensible - either "Occupado" or "Hsssssssss". We slammed the door shut, bolted it and placed all the furniture against it. For good measure, we put a couple of towels and sheets by the door should it try to sneak under the door frame looking for toilet paper.
Along with Tim and Jim, we also picked up a fellow traveler named John. Yes, these are their real names. John was a nice guy. We met him on the plane, and when he mentioned that he and his friend Zeke (probably an alias) needed a place to stay the night, we invited them along.
The problem, however, was not with John... it was his shoes. They stunk. Blech!
Try to imagine a ton of rotting, fermented natto that has gone bad (I know, its an oxymoron). Now combine that with two litres of four-month-old milk. Huwwwaaaaggh!
We quickly pulled away the furniture and towels, unbolted the door, opened it, tossed the shoes into the bathroom, and then re-secured the area. The cries from within were truly horrific.
Oh, the guys in the other room who shared our washroom - they were from Pakistan, and both were coughing up a lung reminiscent of the plague. We never really got close enough to them to say hello.
We five then settled down for the night: James and I had a chair each, John slept on our knapsacks, Zeke may have been under the bed, and Tim, the bastard, slept on the bed after winning a round of jun-kin-po (rock-scissors-paper). We were lulled to sleep by the rhythmic sounds of snoring resembling a jet plane with asthma - though I didn't hear it as I was fast asleep.
The next day was spent in head-turning, eye-popping appreciation of Singapore's natural beauty - it's women!
I wish I could show them to you - but someone had a stupid house fire and lost one or two photo albums.
Tim left us to catch a plane to Thailand, leaving just Jimmy Jive and myself - we left John and Zeke so they could find their own hotel rooms for themselves and John's shoes. Blech!
We spent the day walking the entire length of the City/State of Singapore - it took us 35 minutes - and did some shopping. I went to a clothing shop to have some shirts, jacket and pants made for me - for about $100 - and had it delivered to my hotel the next morning. It was a pair of raw silk black pants, a blue with purple thread silk shirt, a green with red thread silk shirt and a red silk jacket that I only realized weeks later made me look like a parking valet. The best part, beside the price? I got to design all of the stuff myself.
Later that evening, we took a junk boat cruise where we ruined a date and stole a girl. Now that's internationalization! I'd tell you how that happened, but I think we were all pretty drunk. Probably.
We spent Christmas eve in a bar where we counted down the holy night a la Dick Clark's New Year's Rocking Eve. Party hats, noise makers, the whole magilla - and this was Christmas Eve - not New Year's Eve.
Upon entering the bar, Jim and I were immediately set upon by a pair of very forward and un-pretty 'women'. Shunning them, I was immediately surrounded by six very pretty 'women' with scarves around their throats, who wanted to dance with me. I lost sight of Jimmy Jive, but assumed he was having the same luck as me.
Anyhow, we quickly made our exit from this transvestite bar after 56 minutes of 'getting down'. Truthfully, they were all very nice and knew we had wandered in by mistake. They made us feel welcome - I swear that's all we felt! - though we all drew the line at them attempting to give us a make-over.
Malaysia was next. We traveled eight hours by local train to its capital, Kuala Lumpur. Almost immediately after leaving the ultra-modern, capitalist Singapore, the air outside the train became stagnant, old, fetid and decayed. There was a smell of incense that permeated everything. We passed by shanty towns that were sunk into fields of red mud, and saw chickens plod relentlessly through the garbage thrown from the moving trains by its conductors.
Third-world mentality was clearly evident when our train was delayed for 20 minutes by goats that refused to vacate the tracks. The conductor explained to me that they only had a cow-catcher on the train, and to use it on a goat could be punishable by five years in prison, sodomy, and then death by sodomy. I thought that the prison term was too severe.
We checked into the only Holiday Inn in the country and ate at McDonalds (where, incidentally, we ate all our meals - so much for an adventurous spirit, but who the heck needs dysentery?).
We spent the next day touring the city by a hair-raising motorcycle taxi ride carting a two-seat carriage. We visited beautiful mosques, played with some chickens, and listened to an old woman play La Bamba with an Arabic beat on a Casio keyboard. Breathtaking.
To relieve the excitement, we visited the local Hard Rock Cafe. People, the place must be experienced to be believed. The women - Wa-hoo! Photo evidence did exist at one time - I swear! Stupid fire!
The next day, we spent nine hours in a bus to go to Georgetown, Malaysia to see an old battle fort that was pretty cool. (The photos of the fort were actually quite boring, but there was a guy there who looked like Santa Claus on vacation; plus there was a shot of a woman being kicked by a wild donkey; plus there were some graphic cartoon images on a sign at a US navy base - warning that trespassers would be shot - the image showed a person in mid-fall with someone in army drag pointing an M-16 at the victim - ahhh memories - that's all I have).
Anyhow, the bus was delayed for about an hour after we were stopped for speeding. The driver was shot by the police to hasten the justice process.
By the time we got a replacement driver (we really did get a new driver, and while I never saw him get shot, we did hear a gunshot), and wheeled into a smokey bus terminal from Hell, we could only find a room in the sleaziest place in Southeast Asia. To avoid a lawsuit, I won't give its name. It's the Central Hotel. We walked in with our newest friend Glenn, whom we met on the bus (By the way, it's NOT cool to sit at the back of the bus where the washroom is), and screamed in three-part harmony.
Glenn, I should add, is not a weak girly AET-type like Jimmy Jive and myself. He was an alternate member of the New Zealand weightlifting team at the 1990 Commonwealth Games. Anyhow, what made us all scream, was the moving carpet. Have you ever seen Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom? You should... that scene in the movie was based on this room. So... let's just say there were thousands of insects crawling all over the place. Why they were there, I have no idea, but that scared me even more.
While we waited for our room to be fumigated, we went to the local karaoke bar in the hotel to get a few drinks to settle our collective nerves. Apparently all of the bugs left as soon as the fumigation began, as we saw them march out of the room and move to the bar where they changed in a reverse Frank Kafka-esque way to look somewhat human, becoming our waiter and barkeeper.
After having to pay extra for the fumigation (roaches are apparently very bad at math), we were followed by the barkeep and waiter to our room where they transformed back into the icky bugs and alighted to the safety of the walls, while the poison gas still sworled around the floor. There was no carpet in that room, by the way.
The three of us wrapped ourselves up in separate cocoons and staked out a portion of the bed - which we pulled into the centre of the room - and made muffled plans to get the Hell out of Malaysia as soon as possible.
The rest of our winter vacation was spent on an all-night train, another bus from Hell with mechanical difficulties, a stop at the Singapore Hard Rock Cafe where we spent New Year's Eve with four very sexy women - we have photographic proof! We had lost Glenn before that... perhaps he was taken by the roaches. We then had a 5AM ride to the airport with zero sleep because we didn't get a hotel room.
It was good that we left Singapore when we did. As of 12:01AM New Year's Day, Singapore enacted a law forbidding chewing gum. Those caught with it could be punished by caning. Yes, caning. Perhaps sodomy, too. I don't chew gum, so I'm unsure of the details.
At the Singapore airport, the X-ray machine accused me of concealing an uzi in my backpack. Yeah, I'm a stupid gun-toting smuggler who hides weapons in a backpack. Arrest me, beat me, hurt me, treat me like I'm you're boyfriend (Hmm, I still have issues, it seems).
Upon arrival at Japan's Narita Airport, I was accosted by Japanese immigration officials who wanted to know if I was from Iraq and whether I had any marijuana, as apparently they were all out. Yeah, I'm a stupid drug smuggler and I've got seven keys of Mary Jane hidden under the uzi in my backpack.
Still, it was good to be back home in Ohtawara,
Somewhere pining for the Hard Rock fjords of Singapore,
Andrew Joseph
PS: It did not rain at all during this trip. Drought-plagued countries are worried.
PPS: I took a couple hundred photos during this trip - all lost in the house fire a few years back. Sorry. But at least with the photo up above, you can see the lovely shirt and pants I had made there in Singapore.
PPPS: My pony-tail is just starting to come in - here, it's about 10 inches long.
PPPPS: Today's title is by the Go-Go's: It's not hard rock, but it's got girls. LISTEN
YYZ
Lucky you, I just discovered the notepad I used to document the first couple of weeks - okay, maybe that's just lucky for me. But since I have it, let me tell you more about that first day. It starts the day before.
At the Toronto airport, I was just about to pass through US Immigration and Customs when I suddenly realize I have left all of my Japanese money (Yen) back home. Luckily my dad is still around so we drive back to my home 15 minutes away for me to retrieve it. An omen of things to come? Perhaps - but at least I remembered early enough to go and get it - I still had three hours before the flight. My dad and I did the short good-bye. I hope it was for the best. It was for me at any rate.
I flew NW-283 to Detroit and apparently we landed so far from the terminal it took 20 minutes for us to hit our gate. That left myself and 100 other Torontonians going to Japan exactly 10 minutes to make our connection to Japan aboard the 747 NW-011. On that flight I sat next to a girl named Stephanie. After introductions we both mentioned that we had gone out with someone of the same name, and that it didn't work out very well (actually for me, it worked out well enough - she was the reason I applied for this JET (Japane Exchange & Teaching) Programme - so she changed seats opting to sit in the smoker's section. You can tell how long ago this story took place - smoking on the airplane? Anyhow, enough about that.
So... my first day in Tokyo. We arrive at Narita Airport at 4PM on Sunday. Deplaning, my first impression was quite literally: "Ommigawd it's friggin' hot!" Actually, it wasn't the heat, but the stupidity.
After a 10-minute wait at immigration I spend 20 minutes waiting for my luggage to appear at the carousel. I realized I would need two dollies to carry my baggage, but they were like gold at this airport. I managed to find another one and with the help of someone from CLAIR (Japan's Council of Local Authorities For International Relations) we found where I was supposed to go next and separated the baggage I would need for the next few days in Tokyo from the rest of the baggage that would be sent ahead to our host institution - in my case, Ohtawara.
It was pretty obvious to all, that I had the most luggage - and I was still sure I had forgotten something. I had three suitcases, two small hand-bags, one suit holder, and two cartons carrying my clarinet and a new set of Casio keyboards. I also had a couple of bottles of booze that I was going to give to my bosses in Ohtawara - it's something we were told we should do.
I grabbed a suitcase, suit-holder, a carry-on bag and my booze and began a 1-1/2 hour bus ride to the Keio Plaza Hotel in Tokyo. Why so long? Narita airport is located in another province (Chiba-ken) - not in Tokyo.
The bus was neat, air-conditioned but had no toilet, and held 30 people - and there were maybe 15 or more of these buses there.
After catching a 30-minute snore, I notice that the roads of Tokyo look a lot like Toronto, as does the city itself - except that there are more billboards about and neon is everywhere. In fact, there are billboards everywhere, all over the skyscrappers - it looks a lot like that city in the movie Bladerunner.
There are also tonnes of Japanese cars - with 90% of them white... though I did see a Chevy Lumina!
Checking in at the hotel, the staff there are very polite, bowing and scrapping and saying "Welcome" in English. It was great.
I get to my room at 6:45PM and stay holed up there watching the English-language CNN (Operation Desert Storm was just starting to shock and awe the world) and then sleeping until 6AM the next morning.
My roomie was a fellow Torontonian named Tom Granger who would be living somewhere in a place called Akita-ken. While I sat in shock and awe at the war on television, Tom decided he wanted to see Tokyo and took off. If he came back, I didn't see him at 5:30AM when the alarm clock set by the room's previous inhabitants went off - in fact, I never saw him again.
If any of you know the whereabouts of Tom... ah, forget it.
So... that's my first day in Japan. I was too afraid to actually go out and see the place. Fortunately for me, I made up for that with a grand adventure and got to meet a couple of beautiful American ladies - Kristine South, and Melissa Scott - to read about that adventure (and some of today's), Click LOST. Just so you know, I thought I had a shot at Melissa (whom I never saw again) and true to form didn't see Kristine until she saved my life when I attempted to cross the street and looked the wrong way. In Japan, they drive on the opposite side of the road from the U.S and Canada. Kristine certainly had my attention after that. Poor crippled Kristine with her broken foot (I think) and crutches.
And that's the way it was, Sunday, July 29, 1990.
Somewhere older,
Andrew Joseph
Today's title, YYZ is by Toronto's own Rush. In the song, the power trio actually play out the Morse code of Y-Y-Z. My friend from Illinois, Steve Guzelis told me that one. Damn Americans knowing more about Canadian rockers. What is this world coming to? Listen to them here: GEDDYNEILALEX
PS - Want to know what YYZ means? YYZ is the three-letter designation for the officially named Toronto Lester B. Pearson International Airport (named after former Canadian Prime Minister Lester B. Pearson who brought about Universal Health Care, Student Loans, the Canada Pension Plan and the current Canadian Flag - if you want to know more, click HERE - he's a pretty interesting fellow).
PPS - Because you need to know, NRT is the three-letter designation that is globally known for the Narita airport.
PPPS - that image at the top - that's what I wrote in my notepad that first night in Japan... wasn't even sure of the date at first.
PPPPS - With the celebrations over, next is a story of salt, slapping and men in diapers.
Lola
So… it’s late July 1990… just in case you wanted a reference date.
Let’s just assume I left my house in Toronto, made it to the airport and got on the plane.
You could also assume that I became great friends with a lot of people on the plane thanks to my winning personality and incredible snoring ability, and that those plane folks became an important part of my life in Japan. You’d be wrong about that last sentence, however.
Several hours into the plane ride - in a 747 filled with Assistant English Teachers (AETs) from Ontario heading to Japan on a one-year contract to teach junior or senior high school English on the Japan Exchange Teaching (JET) Programme – I realized that in whatever town I was moving to, that I’d never see them again.
Besides, why on Earth would I want to hang out with English-speakers here in Japan? I wanted to become internationalized. That thought would come back to bite me on the bum many a time over the next three years.
Arriving at Narita Airport in the outskirts of Tokyo in Chiba-ken (ken is the Japanese word for province), the first thing that hit me was the heat. It was about 4PM and it was 34º Celsius (93.2F). And here’s the weird thing – it was getting hotter as the day progressed.
Wanting to smell Japan, I inhaled. Forgetting that I was at an airport, all I smelled was jet fuel. Funny. It smells just like the Toronto airport.
All of us first-timers on the JET Programme were to spend the first three days in Japan at the Keio Plaza Hotel in Tokyo before traveling to our new homes – I believe it was a way of allowing us to get over our jet-lag (there’s a 15-hour+ time difference between Toronto and Tokyo) as well us allowing us all to get used to being in a foreign country. Apparently they thought that three days would be enough.
Let me just say this… that hotel was crawling with foreigners. Not Japanese people, but rather Americans, Canadians, English, Scots, Irish, Aussies and Kiwis – the fruit, bird and the people.
Exhausted and forced to share a room with a fellow Torontonian whose name I couldn’t remember after hearing it, I decided to sit in my room and watch Operation Desert Storm unfold. My nerdy roomy decided to see if he could find a nice Japanese girl to marry him for an hour or less – I hope he’s okay, as I never actually saw him again over my three-day stay at the hotel. Hmmm… I suppose I should have told someone.
After spending my first night in Japan watching CNN on television – quite the departure from how I would have spent an evening back in Toronto as I would never watch CNN - I spent the next day hovering around the hotel – not actually straying outside for fear of getting lost.
For those who don’t know me very well, I once got lost while portaging with a canoe on my head and wandered aimlessly about for five hours before finally lifting the craft up to actually look for a road sign. Turns out I was on a main highway I knew and therefore not actually lost.
I believe I slept through the next day, but I can’t be sure, as I was asleep.
On my second night at the hotel, I decided to venture down to the lobby to see if I could work up enough courage to walk a few feet outside the front door. As I walked through the lobby, a very pretty young lady stopped me and struck up a conversation.
Okay… what the hell is going on? This type of stuff NEVER happens in Toronto.
Dear Penthouse,
You won’t believe what happened to me while I was in Japan…
Kristine South, a Japanese-American from Washington DC, invited me to join her and some other people that she made friends with on her plane ride over (Hmmm, maybe I need to be friendlier) to go on a walk in the city. Horn dog that I was/am, I quickly got over my rational fear of getting lost and said yes.
Kristine had recently broken her right foot and was using crutches, but was more adept at hobbling than I was at walking.
Whether it was minutes later or hours, our group became awestruck by the flood of neon light and drunken Japanese businessmen in navy blue suits, a fact that contributed to us not actually knowing where we were walking/hobbling.
After yet another right turn, it became fairly evident that we were lost. How did we know? Simple. There was no more neon around us. Take it from me, folks – finding a part of Tokyo that is not lit up by neon signage is not an easy thing to accomplish.
Looking about for the mellow neon glow of the city, I thought I saw an English-language sign advertising something called a soapland across the street from us and decided to see if I could buy some scented soap. It turns out that a soapland is a massage parlor where the male customer is bathed during the activity – and no, I have never been in a soapland, but I do like scented soap.
I looked to the left and then to the right and seeing no cars, I stepped out into the street.
Why she did it, Kristine still doesn’t know, but noticing I was about to become a hood ornament for a white car, she pulled me back to reality.
Did you know that in Japan they drive on the opposite side of the road from us in North America? None of my pre-flight orientation mentioned that – or perhaps it did. I never actually read the orientation package. I think I still have it, though. I’ll look at it later.
Part of my soapland tunnel vision was also taken up by the very obvious okama (transvestite) standing in the doorway suggestively licking his/her lips and shaking his/her hips at my general direction. While not my cup of green tea, I wondered if the plethora of businessmen running in realized this soapland was a sausage factory. I didn't see anyone running out, though.
So… what is Tokyo like? It’s: noisy; constantly moving; neon bright; full of packed Japanese restaurants; hot and humid; got white cars and only white cars on the road, and; every street corner is crammed with vending machines that sell darn near everything a person could possibly ever want. Future BLOGs will examine most of these elements.
Hopelessly lost and hopelessly sweaty, Kristine and I – now the de facto leaders (IE the ones with the biggest mouth) – nominated one of our group to ask a person on the street if they knew where our hotel was.
A bigger problem arose as no one could remember on what line of this BLOG that I had actually mentioned the hotel’s name. Luckily I had a box of hotel matches with me, so it was easy for our erstwhile volunteer to point to the matchbox and shrug emphatically. Even if you don’t smoke, a box of matches is not only an excellent souvenir but can also be a road map to home sweet home.
Our first victim – a navy blue-suited Japanese businessman looked at the matchbox and said in perfect English: “I don’t speak Lark” and ran away from us into the soapland. Speak Lark? What the heck did that mean?
The next two men we asked also answered similarly in English and ran to enter the soapland. The fourth gent – although unable to speak English, bade us to follow him.
Forty-five minutes later we stood in front of our hotel. We thanked him profusely, he bowed, muttered something about a soapland and left.
No one knew what his name was. But, if the rest of Japan could match his sweaty kindness, my stay in Japan would be smooth one.
Somewhere wondering where I could buy lilac-scented soap,
Andrew Joseph
Today's cross-dressing title is by The Kinks - SOHO
Today's cross-dressing title is by The Kinks - SOHO
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
