It reminded me of the first time I lived there studying abroad, and even a bit of my life in New York. I’ve been going back and forth on Tokyo ever since I left four years ago. It’s a sprawling but dense city of monotone concrete but eccentric culture. The pros and cons are bipolar and throw off any scale you try to weigh them on. You can’t find a trash can anywhere and yet the streets are sterile. The nature is equally as sparse apart from tourist traps and out of the way parks of which there is an abundance. Foreign people are few enough to stand out, but common enough to not warrant overt friendliness. It’s a dream city where literally any hobby is respected and any behavior tolerated — if not first marginalized. It is one of the most expensive cities in the world (beating out any city in America), and despite shrinking apartment sizes it’s ranked high for quality of life.
Last year I wrote a length about it when I went with Carmelo to celebrate a concert and Silver Week. It was hardly thought out, nearly affordable, but still a decent amount of fun to be had.The days before I was getting a paycheck, could remember how to speak Japanese, or even knew how to enjoy the city as a non-tourist, non-student. This year the holidays lined up well enough that I could take a Wednesday off and still have up to six days of vacation. Longing for the summer freedom again, I figured the end of September was good enough as any anniversary to make another venture to the city, my first in a year.
My weekend wasn’t as long as I’d originally thought because of the two day culture festival the bit into the first Saturday. Now, the culture festival is great. I took plenty of pictures I’d love to post here. I had franks on a stick, fried chicken, ice cream bars, shaved ice, donuts, juice, and a matcha flavored cream puff before I felt like I couldn’t eat anything more. The talent show was pretty entertaining, though I did feel a lingering nostalgia too that shadowed everything a bit. This was about the time I really started knowing my students last year, finally remembering their names, and caring about their successes. I couldn’t help wondering what would happen in a years time, and no matter what happens my favorite class (the current third years) wouldn’t be around.
That all, however, was on Friday. It’s Saturday that really bites. Twenty-one classes — luckily, because last year it was twenty-four — performed songs, usually traditional staples, one after another the whole day in the gym. Last year I remember falling asleep a little too early, but this time I managed to stay alert the whole time. Perhaps I can thank two surprises. A bit before lunch one of the English teachers who switched schools at the start of this year, showed up. He’s the same guy I went to Kyoto with, so the rare moments he shows up are always good. Then in the afternoon one of last years third years found me. He was the same student who I’d spent three months with working on the English speech contest. His was visiting because his younger brother is a second year. At first I was shocked just to see him, a bit taller with the adolescent badge of a sparse peach-fuzz mustache along his lip, but then he started talking and I was flabbergasted. Last year I felt like I had to pry words from his mouth, even as he was rehearsing his speech. Now, however, we were speaking almost normally. He told me he’d visited Australia for two weeks, joined the archery club at school, and had a continued hobby for guns. Not for the first time since my birthday did I feel like an old man. This kid had only graduated four months ago, and already he’d changed so drastically. Sometimes I feel like I’m wasting precious time.
So, the Saturday was worthwhile if not monotonous. I took an afternoon shinkansen the following Sunday with just my backpack and an umbrella. The weather on my side of Japan was holding out, but in the midst of rainy season with a typhoo on the way, I’d learned not to take chances. I got off the train at Tokyo station and instantly remembered why I hated the city. Tokyo station is a distilled version of all that’s bad. It’s a tangling mess with multiple floors, thousands of people, and every direction. There are gates that exit, gates that go to different trains, gates for trains that go to different cities. You can wrap your way around hallways of shops that sell nothing but tiny packaged sweets to give out as gifts to your co-workers without ever seeing an exit sign. Certainly some for of direction is intended by the way the floor plan is laid out, but really people just dash in and out like a school of fish. Occasionally, especially at night, it’ll slow down, but then you’ll just see the people overworked, or homeless, or drunkenly stumbling and passing out from the clubs. With that in mind, and excluding its sprawl, it is also effective as the quintessential station. You’re either going or leaving, and never wanting to stay.
By this point I realized I might’ve packed a bit too much, too. I would inevitably be shopping and buying things, so I probably didn’t need the spare book to read, the extra clothes. I even brought running clothes and shoes only to be neglected. Carmelo was at the same concert we’d gone to last year, so I was stuck making my way to his apartment outside Shinjuku. Another two friends of ours were staying with him this weekend, too, so I decided to try and meet up with them. After stopping for a hour or two at a cafe, I decided to ditch my bag at a station locker to lose the weight and head out to start my night. I’d messaged my college roommate Yasushi who’s now working in Tokyo doing important things. We planned to meet at the Hachiko statue in Shibuya (a place I thought I knew, but in fact didn’t actually know) but eventually we found out way out to a dive for drinks and food. It didn’t feel like a year since we’d last seen each other, but I could tell his time at grad school in DC had matured him. He spoke way more fluently, and I was happy to see he hadn’t gotten fat (even if smoking was an occasional vice). We caught up well over the next two hours, and then went back to the statue to join up with Carmelo and friends. I offered for him to come with, but a bit more responsibly he declined because he had to work in the morning.
The remaining five of us — the unemployed Carmelo and his girlfriend, and vacationing ALTs — did not have to work. So, fresh off the vibes of an outdoor EDM concert, Carmelo took us down the streets with Coke bottles of gin and ginger beer in hand to what is one of Shibuya’s most reputed nightclubs: Womb. I’d like to say I went into it open minded, but the appeal was almost instantly lost to me. Through a smoky entrance, ￥3000 cover charge, and the grim realization that we’d have to stay out until the first train at 5am I tried to disagree with the fact that I was not drunk enough. Nor was the club packed enough. There were plenty of people, as it was deemed the after party for the mentioned concert, but there was certainly open space, too. I went through the crowds, occasionally dancing, trying to work up a sweat to at least seem like I was having a better time. As the night wore on, it simply became a meditation for survival more than anything, though, I did have some fun embarrassing moments with some local Tokyolites.
We did make it on the first train back to the apartment, and I did pass out until two o’clock the next afternoon. Carmelo, Eri, and I left the apartment bravely at my prompting under clouding skies. By the time we’d made it a block the sprinkling mist was turning to a full shower, but I was determined to make it to the same event I went to last year: the Tokyo Art Book Fair. As cheapskates we decided to walk the hour to the campus it was held. My raincoat, pants, and shoes were fully saturated, but also so was everyone else. It also made the place feel a bit more crowded since everyone was inside roaming the aisles, trying to get away from the rain. We perused, I bought some postcards, but nothing as good as last year. One the way home we diverted under a train overpass, and stopped by a specialty food store to pick up some curry for dinner.
That night we stayed up catching up on the latest episodes of the anime Dragonball Super, a weekly ritual we used to do. The next two days were still just as rainy, and just as lazy. I think I slept until noon both Tuesday and Wednesday. Following a small breakfast and we planning I went out to find the geekiest shops around. We started in Shibuya, but I also ran solo to Ikebukuro and Akihabara, discovering some new places that I hadn’t really explored. Usually when I’m out travelling alone I don’t have too much fun, but Wednesday when I set off by myself I was kind of having fun. I think this time without having to lug a backpack around, or be on a time constraint to check in somewhere really helped. That night, meeting up with Yasushi, we went out to Shinjuku, trying to wind up at a club that I’d enjoyed as a college student. Eventually we got there and the passage of almost five years felt like nothing. If it’s to get from point A to point B without any references, I’m usually a dunce for directions. But give me a place I’ve visited before and I can trace my way through parts like it’s my hometown. So being there in the night, a bit more refreshed and at the end of a vacation, felt a little bit better than the start of the week. I had a good time, stayed out all night, and didn’t mind catching the first train home.
I took the night bus home the next day, almost missing it when I couldn’t find the right loading zone. It was a grueling 8 hours and some of the worst time I’ve spent traveling.
Nonetheless, I had already started planning when I’d be going back.
I could’ve spent another night in Tokyo, but knew I had to save money and energy for the remained month, so after we woke up and cleaned off in the capsule hotel, I knew that to Carmelo’s chagrin I’d be going home. But with the shinkansen running until nine o’clock, I didn’t see any rush. We started that day with a conbini breakfast and walking a complex route to the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building in Shinjuku to go to their observation deck. At 243 meters tall they’re a whopping 391 meters shorter than Tokyo Sky try, but they get the job done and best of all it’s free.
You can actually see Sky Tree off in the distance there, so some might consider this view even better. For me the view of Tokyo, especially during the day, is not considerably beautiful. It’s hardly even inspiring or enjoyable. Mostly I like to see it to be reminded of the extent of humankind’s dominance and destruction, and the fact that my presence in the history of the earth is (yet) hardly impact. For anyone who’s seen the top of (the skyscraper formely known as) the Sears Tower or the Empire State Building there’s a certain clarity there that Tokyo doesn’t offer. With American skyscrapers you can look down the grids of highways and streets to realize that even at large scales there is still some order in the world. When looking at Tokyo, for once, Japan is a sprawling chaos.
We basically spent the entire day in Akihabara venturing further than I had ever been before. If Harajuku is for twenty something girls, Akiba is for twenty something guys. They have so many otaku artifacts, often perverted, for the most obscure of animes and video games. They have objects like keychains, mugs, towels, mousepads, flags, pens, fans, pillows, lunchboxes, folders, hats, costumes, clocks, chopsticks, much more, and on top of all of that perhaps double in the amount of figurines. It’s maybe the best place in Japan to buy computer electronics. For this I suffered as my college laptop is reaching its sixth year and my fears of it dying reach their limit I’ve been in the market for buying parts to build another computer. Alas, reason won out and I was able to keep my hands off the skylake processors and the discount graphics cards.
We ended up going to a curry restaurant for early dinner, something I’d been craving for a while. After that I was on my own and could use up as much of the next four hours as I wanted before deciding to go back. At this point I really was getting sick of the city, or at least had a longing to be back in the mountainside of Fukui. But I did roam around a little bit longer, hoping to score on the location of being in Tokyo. I wound up at a used English book store, knowing that Dune wouldn’t last me forever and the remaining books I hoped to finish by the end of the year. Of course, though, it was still a holiday and I got to the store ten minutes before it’s early closing time.
It ended up being close to Tokyo station where I needed to pick up the Shinkansen home, so it wasn’t much of a detour and I saved some money anyway. Especially since the ticket home was another $120, a price I stubbornly resigned myself to pay.
Overall, the weekend was pretty much the first type of holiday travel I’ve done in my post grad adult life so on that I’ll claim it as a success. It was expensive, fueled by my ‘wing it’ attitude, so I can see why people can’t do it all the time even if they can afford it. But it seems like I’ll often have a long weekend or time for travelling in the future, so hopefully it is something that I can start saving up for. My location is pretty ideal in the grand scheme of geography. I’m nearby four major Japanese cities: Tokyo, Osaka, Kyoto, and Nagoya, and a score of well known traditional sightseeing and modern activity resorts. So here’s hoping for no more cut open foots and trips to the hospital and more getting around and trips to castles.
The next morning I woke up with all the fatigue of travel and aimless wandering wiped away. I slept pretty soundly, which surprised me due to some of the stories I’d heard about capsule hotels being sleazy places. I got up at a decent time in the morning, around 8 o’clock, and decided to wash in their public bath in order to get rid of the smell now radiating from my armpits.
Bathing in Japan is a completely different experience, since most of the time you’re hard pressed to find a standing shower-head. In the long run, I feel like it’s a much better way to clean yourself: you still have a shower nozzle, but you’re sitting down so you can actually scrub the hard to get places. Maybe it’s from my time on the cross country team or just because I’ve been to Japan, that I don’t feel embarrassed to do this kind of bathing, but it’s always referred to as a more scandalous cultural difference. Instead I think it’s a strong point for Japan not to teach people to shame their bodies or automatically give nakedness an implicit sexual connotation. If you ever got to see my senior art show, it’s something I tried to analyze with that.
So freshly shaved and somewhat less smelly, I departed the capsule hotel that morning–this time passing two men smoking in the stairway–only to realize that I was still in Shinjuku. It was a bit strange, to in a place so associated with nightlife and tourism yet with none of that going on. As I made my way to the station I passed by a series of people doing as we usually call it ‘the walk of shame‘. It was pretty amusing and baffling to realize the type of work that goes in those places. There used to be a good documentary on Netflix that gives an enlightening overview. In a city with 13 million people it takes all types of nightlife. A couple year back when I first studied abroad I had a couple weekends to experience the process. Subways in Tokyo stop pretty early, sometime around midnight, so if you want to go out you’ve only got limited options. Especially since most places don’t really start the night until 10 o’clock and taxis typically costs what Uber only dreams about charging, the only economical option is to stay out all night (until the subways start running around around 6 or 7).
Originally I was planning on saving this type of night for Monday (having the whole train back home to recover), but seeing the aftermath I was starting to doubt its appeal. As I almost got to the main street down Shinkjuku a couple, a girl and guy, walked towards me on the same side of the street: giggling, stumbling, and in their own world. I didn’t have much to do but pass by, until the girl by some mystical magnetic force connected her forehead right into my shoulder. The guy started laughing, and the girl without making a sound just slumped to the ground. I asked if she was alright, ready to assist in getting her back to her feet, but she just slowly rolled over and continued giggling. As I walked away, cars now trying to pass the narrow street, and her refusing the man’s attempts to get her to stand up, I had to make the connection that it’s the foreigners that are always told not to get drunk and cause problems in the city.
As I mentioned, when I went to sleep last night I knew I needed to start this day with a plan and so I made my way to one of the bigger sightseeing places in Tokyo, Sensou-ji often called Asakusa Temple, where I also hoped to snag a great breakfast.
It is a very bustling place, but nonetheless enjoyable. Basically, you start by entering the front gate, and walk all the way down past a slew of tiny shops selling sovenir, food, and traditional artifacts. It is truly one of the free places in Japan who’s sole purpose is sightseeing. I ended up getting green tea mochi on a stick, while walking to the end. There were a number of food stalls at the back gate that didn’t exist the last time I visited and if I wasn’t so mean with my money I probably would’ve ordered something from each. There was yakitori, karaage, crab, dumplings, all too much for my nose to handle. In the end I settled on yakisoba, one of the best I’ve tasted yet, and ate it sitting down in the nearby shade. Already a great start and perfect contrast to yesterday.
It was kind of luck that I started off there, because the second stop on my trip, Tokyo Sky Tree, was actually in the same part of Tokyo, almost visible beyond the building’s horizon at the temple’s court. I took a short shuttle there and followed in a small mob of people the way out of the station, around the aquarium at its base, and up the stairs to the entrance of the tower.
Taking a brief time to look around at the entrance’s mezzanine, however, I was stopped by a girl dressed like a backup dancer for Justin Bieber but holding a clip board. “Ah, hello,” she asked, “Do you have a moment to answer some questions?”
Of course, my natural American instincts went to work in coming up with a reason not to talk to her. So far my only experiences with someone in Japan asking if I have a moment has resulted in filling out a survey about my electronics shopping and politely declining to listen to Jehovah’s Witnesses. Alas, it’s not like I had much else to do, anyway hadn’t I been complaining about not talking to enough Japanese people?
We ended up having a pretty cool conversation. She was a high school student doing a project for her English class to talk to foreigners. It was kind of nostalgic, because I had been in that same situation when I studied here in college, but I was also flabergasted by her fluency in English. She said she is planning to go to America (*California, like everyone else I’ve met) next year, and was pretty happy to hear that I was an ALT. It offered a cool insight to the types of lives my students–with their identical uniforms and hairstyles–might eventually lead in their future. In the end she took a picture with me (for proof), and I felt like even on vacation I was able to do a little work.
Now I think this is dubbed the tallest tower in the world, and all my students have remarked in their essay’s about its beautiful view, so I felt compelled to check it out for myself, and maybe it’s coming from New York, but when I got to the base it didn’t seem all that astonishing. I went inside where there was a decent queue and no definite direction on where I’d actually go to get a ticket to the top. They had this counter where people were lined up that was labelled in english; rapid line, but that had the type of connotation that you’d be paying a little extra. In the end I couldn’t find a ticket counter, but I did see a sign that had prices on it. The wait was half an hour and the price was ￥3000, otherwise a bit above my budget for the “beautiful view” that consists mostly of concrete slabs, an ocean if you’re lucky, and a glimpse of Mt. Fuji you’re divine.
I knew of a place in Shinjuku that allowed you to visit the observation deck for free (somewhere I’d gone on my first study abroad trip here) and decided that that would be enough of the view for enough of the trip. I did peruse across the gift store, mostly just fuji-tv themed key chains and omiyage. I did pick up a pretty sweet Attack on Titan sticker, and a Sky Tree themed Evangelion folder for less than ￥500 so at least I’ve got something to take back with me.
It was still before noon by the time I got back on the subway, so I decided to spend a little more time alone before meeting up with the people I was going to the concert with. By now I had looked up some things going on in Tokyo and had come up with a couple of options. Strangely, plenty of places around Shinjuku and Shibuya were celebrating Octoberfest, and there was a huge beirgarten I had been interested in checking out. Alas, it also happened to be the weekend of the Tokyo Art Book Fair at the Tohoku University of Art and Design, and I had been Jones-ing for any aspect of art in my life for a while.
It was perhaps the best decision I’d made all weekend. It really does seem so long since I’ve been involved in anything artistic. I’ve tried (poorly) to do whatever work I can in my free time, but these whole past couples of months were all full of saying goodbyes, packing, moving out, moving home, moving in, trying to study Japanese, and avoid leg injuries at all costs. Now that I’m in Japan I’ve been only vaguely looking for the materials I need to start printmaking again, and trying not to resign myself to the loss of living in the rural and not being able to figure out where to start to look. It honestly isn’t that hard and apart from start-up costs it’s just one more thing I’m waiting to start when I’m finally settled.
Anyway, back at the fair. At the entrance there were a bunch of stalls selling all assortment of foods that you’d likely find at a twenty-something’s street market in the Pacific Northwest. They had honeyed sweets on a stick, homemade tamales, crafty obento, even organic wine, and already I felt at home. Maybe (and it’s probably the case) it’s because I was completely surrounded by like minded people in the first time in a long time. Even with a grumbling stomach I skipped past the stalls and headed straight for the open rooms lining the inner courtyard.
I think I was just eager to see real actual physical handmade art, too, because I didn’t really try to absorb anything that I was seeing. I just sort of wondered around.
By the end I was feeling so optimistic. I’d bought three prints (actual hand made screenprints) to take home with me and finally get up on my bare walls. I met a crew that worked out of printshop and design company that I will definitely visit if I ever get to Singapore. I also talked with two fantastic artists, one who I bought a print from, who were former JETs. It was so reassuring, like looking at some potential version of my future. Both were Australian, one who went to school at Tohoku and another who traveled back and forth doing various art pieces. They both seemed to have had eccentric lives, but like me, spent their time on JET in the inaka. After talking with them the interesting thing that stood out was their pieces of most important advice were the same: they both said to learn as much of the language as I can. I wound up getting some of that organic wine because hey, treat yourself.
I left with a goodie bag and a bounce in my step and messaged Carmelo to find out where in the Tokyo he wanted to meet up. I wound up at Harajuku, which on a normal day is packed but I suppose on a Sunday holiday is egregious. Understand that I’m slightly exaggerating when I say it took me forever to get from the subway platform to the front of the station, packed in like fish in a net, but really even Shibuya crossing didn’t have that many people. The day turned out to have a good amount of sun and it’s lucky that we’re both over six feet and people of color, because otherwise I don’t think I could have found him. Even when we were both standing at our chosen meeting point it took a couple minutes of looking around.
We basically chose Harajuku as a meeting point and then it was back into the fishing net to troll along to the platform. Harajuku is a pretty good place to visit (also for the previously mentioned shrine), but unless you have fat stacks in your wallet and are generally a woman in your early twenties, it’s basically only good for getting crepes. Instead we found our way going to Shibuya to kill some time. I should mention that we could’ve gone to the concert grounds by now. The stage opened at 10:00 and I did pay for the entire day. But really, I was kind of still worn out or at least not ready to get into a party scene. So Shibuya, known for its mass people crossing and its Starbucks was the place to chill.
Carmelo, his girlfriend and I decided that it was food we needed most. By now it was hitting well after 2 o’clock and I hadn’t eaten anything since my morning break at Asakusa. Heading down what looked like the main street we sort of kept revolving trying to splice out which places were for food, and of those places which one we wanted to eat at. I can’t say I was craving anything in particular, but the thing that stood out in my mind was sushi. I think because another guy we were meeting up with at the concert said he was going to Tsukiji for the dawn fish auction and I was half tempted to wake up that early just to eat absurdly priced cuts of fish that were less than three hours out of the ocean.
After a bit of waffling we went into a kaitenzushi place that seemed like it wouldn’t break our budgets. If you’ve never heard of kaiten it’s basically a conveyor belt buffet, which seems like it would actually have been something created in America (if not maybe for some FDA regulations). You pay by plate, each color coded by price, so it’s both easy and dangerous to keep track of what you’re eating. For example, I got one small plate of salmon that was ￥200, and decided to get another, and I also got a delicious ￥300 plate of something, and a couple ￥100 plate dishes (cuz hey, they were only 100), add on ￥500 for a beer, and you’re easily hitting a $15 meal. Although being that I was on holiday with literally the most amount of cash from a paycheck I’ve ever had, I tried not to pay too much attention to it.
With full stomachs we departed from Carmelo’s girlfriend at the station and made our way to Odaiba, a man made island the likes of lower Manhattan now featured highly in tourist type attractions, where the concert was located. It tooks us longer by maybe an hour than expected, both at fault for taking multiple wrong turns. We rushed to find a locker to store our stuff and finally got on the right subway line. At this point I have to plug in how efficient a Suica card can be for a lot of travel around Tokyo even if you’re only there for a weekend, so if you plan on traveling there definitely invest.
Once we got there we found our way to Anton, the final link in this bro trip. Many places around Tokyo are pretty easy to make arrangements to meet people. There is usually one odd landmark that sticks out among the crowd. I think in that category Odaiba takes the cake, though, for it’s ‘life sized’ Gundam fighter.
Now, I’m not certain what kind of reference an anime series like Gundam can use to call something life size, but either way it is a pretty sweet feature. We actually hung out around the base for a little while chatting, and I think unconsciously it was just because it’s so cool to stand by that thing.
We went into the mall behind it for a brief drink pit stop, and needless to say it was packed. Now it was curbing six o’clock and I remained doomed to be impressed with how many people were out. Not since leaving New York had I ever seen as many people as I have this weekend. It was quite overwhelming. Yeah, but that was also before we got into the concert grounds.
We started off in the back and after realizing how crowded it actually was made some quick decisions. Now, I’ve been frequenting concerts ever since an emo phase back in junior high when I went to a warehouse in downtown Minneapolis to see a show of somewhat obscure rock groups including Houston Calls, As Tall As Lions, and June. And during that time I learned the first lesson that everyone needs when going to a concert and that’s how to stake out your ground. Most recently I’ve been frequenting the local shows: mainly Rock the Garden, and the hits that comes to First Ave. So (as all Minnesotans are passive aggressively polite) it hasn’t been since Soundset my freshman college summer, since I’ve needed to deal with the subtleties of a mosh pit.
I looked to the guys and made sure to tell them, “If we do this, I’m going in and not looking back, so make sure to stick with me.” At some point I’m sure I quoted Pirate’s of the Caribbean.
It’s a good thing too, because by the point we stopped moving we ended up without Anton and it was just Carmelo and I and a surprising amount of foreigners. I ended up next to a woman from Washington D.C. and a guy from Ireland, and that was before the crowd started moving in.
We landed there during the mid-beginnings during the second to last set, DJ Snake. Now I can only describe him as potentially the club version of Pitbull. His music is really catchy, he’s decent on featured songs, but for some unknown reason you just tend not to like him. He did in fact determine the entire pop scene last year with his number one hit song, both blessing and curse, so at least I get to say I saw him live.
Then onto the final headliner, after an awkward break while they changed equipment, and Carmelo and I pushed even further to the front. Not that we weren’t satisfied, and I actually worried about going too far ahead to get out of the ambiance of it all. Then he, Skrillex, in all his long haired ray-ban glory, finally took the stage and started. The crowd of course went wild, myself included, and it wasn’t long before I worked up a necessary sweat.
Soon into the set I was hitting a natural high. I didn’t really drink too much, just enough to get a buzz going, and I really just felt like I was melting into the atomosphere with the amount of the music. It’s a bit funny the first huge EDM festival I go to didn’t involve a single whiff of marijuana or encounter with the guy who’s tripping way too hard. The drug laws in Japan really keep away a lot of problems. Not to say that all you can drink buffet hours are a good thing, but the amount of zero tolerance on substances (even for driving after any drink) is admirable.
Back to ear melting, eye blinding, body shaking rave parties.
I wasn’t keeping track of time, but every time I thought the set was calming down and about to finish it would restart and get going again. It’s funny to hear an American DJ speak English at a Japanese crowd. It’s like, every time he says “Put your hands up” or “Get low” you really have to wonder how many people can actually understand. Luckily, I was one of them, and there’s no form of submission better than giving full control to a world renowned DJ.
I’m pretty sure, though, overall the whole scene was a little dampened. I’m not quite sure if maybe it was because it was outside, because it was the audience, or the venue, but I’m certain the bass could’ve been just a little louder, the sound just a bit more booming. I suppose it just saves my hearing a couple years down the line. Between the shouting of the people and the air tossing of my head it’s a wonder I heard anything at all. There was a point where I realized I hadn’t drank enough alcohol to give excuse to my actions and I was in full control of my body. I wonder what it would’ve looked like if I was the only one at the concert but still moving as radically.
You can check out the full setlist and somewhere on the interwebs you can download most of the sets.
It ended with multiple flames, fireworks, an all girl Japanese ‘heavy metal’ band, and some flag waving. Strangely content I feel like I came down from the vibe at just the right time. I had hardly a buzz, little sweat, and my voice still had volume.
Another feat of Japan efficiency was how long it took us to get out. It did seem like a long time, but there was such an organization to it I felt like herded cattle, and it definitely halted any bottleneck effect. Outside on the mounds surrounding the Gundam under little lanterns in the trees, multiple groups sat to continue the night.
We ended up not finding Anton but meeting up with the Brazilian girlfriend of one of our neighbors. After a not so quick stop at McDonalds (oh the pain) we wound up back on the crowded subway. I think it’s pretty common to hear that they pack people into Tokyo subways like sardines in a can, and that might be true on particular weekday mornings during rush hour. I definitely experienced it years ago when I first came, but really had yet to be crushed against anything this time… until now.
The unfortunate thing about this man made island is that there are very few ways to get off and on it. Mainly in our situation, it required a train disconnected from other parts of the subway system. Actually on the way to Odaiba, after taking our wrong turns, I saw a couple with two young children rush onto the train right as the doors were closing. When they took a breath and looked down they realized they only had one child. Still standing on the track, on the other side of the closed doors was a cutely pathetic six year old Japanese girl, staring indifferently as her parents zoomed away. Granted, they were able to quickly do some gesturing with their hands for the girl to stay there, but the whole scene seemed so cliched there was hardly any anxiety. In fact, it seemed like the parents might’ve encountered this situation before as they got off on the next stop and waited to go back. Always one to make comparisons, I can’t help but think of the drama and severe panic that would ensue on both parties if that situation happened to an American traveling in New York (of course New York is a bit dire, but I think any big city would do).
Getting off the subway, we also were rushing through the station to get to the locker to find our bags. At first it didn’t look so good, as the station was pretty winding, and many areas were closing down because of the time. Thankfully my knack for retracing my steps kicked in under pressure. Although, after that we had a bit of a problem figuring out where to go. We were trying to figure out if we wanted to spend all night partying or if we just needed to wind up in a spot we could find a place to stay. Because of the time it would take to get from where we were to where we wanted to go, by the time the trains stopped running we couldn’t do both. We opted for the latter, of calling it a night, and headed to Shinjuku.
We ended up walking around to a couple of different capsule hotels, until we came across one with some vacancy in the heart of Shinjuku. We dropped off our stuff and then almost one in the morning headed out to find some food. After all, we didn’t really get dinner. The decision came to Korean or Yakitori, and since the latter is not always reliable depending on the restaurant we went for the food that would be harder to find back in Fukui.
It capped the night off perfectly. I ordered bibimbap (shoutout to Stefan) and cruised easily to sleep. The place wasn’t as nice as the capsule I was in last night, but with a day like that anything was fine.
It’s been a plain while since I’ve last had a vacation. You might consider my initial landing here a brief vacation, but if my posts say anything, being in a hotel Tokyo wasn’t really being in Tokyo, and it wasn’t all together enjoyable. I think the most recent case for me having a vacation would be the first time I went to New York a month for school nearly two years ago. Then I was in a new place, old enough to drink, a credit card limit that was way to high for what I deserved, with work that consisted of touring museums and visiting studios. Yes, it was a required daily itinerary, but it was full of things I wanted to do anyway. But I think that is still the biggest cause of it not being a vacation. It was an extended stay (a New York winter) with some freedom, though, still with financial and time restrictions. A summer before that I went to Thailand for a week with the best person in the world, and I think that was probably the last thing I would actually consider a vacation. I took time off of my summer research (an oblivious foreshadowing of designing a virtual Japanese language classroom and games) hopped on a plane and traveled around Bangkok and one of the Kohs. Sure, I’ve done road trips and gone camping since then, but I think there’s a sense of luxury the idea of a vacation has to meet and an island beach bungalow in the Pacific only barely meets those standards.
Anyway, now I had a treat. A rare aligning of three Japanese holidays that gave me three extra workdays free. In the spring there’s a whole week Japanese people refer to as Golden Week, so this occurance (the next of which happens in sixteen years) is aptly dubbed Silver Week. A couple weeks ago, Carmelo, my friendly neighborhood rascal, informed me that he was taking this time to go to Tokyo to attend a three day rave concert, Ultra Japan. The few who know my true interests are aware that, deep deep down maybe even under all the Led Zeppelin, I live for the trance and raucous beat of step and electronic music. It’s been like that ever since I was a child and that genre was barely discernible from Rob Zombie. I remember listening to early Basement Jaxx tracks and having that be my hardcore. When I discovered that noise like Sleigh Bells actually existed I understood there was an actual purpose in life. The end of my college senior year could be practically mapped out by Rusko. At the top of this discovery–as it was for most people–reigned Skrillex, a musician, DJ, performer, and seemingly great guy from California. It’s been a while for me since Skrillex was what I preferred to listen to, and I’d given up on seeing him in concert years ago. But recently he partnered with probably the greatest DJ/producer since early 2000s Daft Punk, Diplo, and came out with an album which I think you’ve heard of, and it’s quite literally (due to the broken hard drive) one of the only things I have left to listen to. Basically, he’s made some of my favorite music (yes, you can call that music) and was headlining the concert on Sunday night, and now I could finally see him, and there was no reason for me not to, because hey, I’m not getting any younger.
Wow, that’s a lot to add to an already long post, but good to know my devotion is strong.
Anyway, with Carmelo’s plane ticket booked and tickets sold out weeks before, it seemed I’d missed my chance. And good thing, too, since even a one day pass was quite expensive. The next day as I mulled over what I would actually do for Silver Week–go nowhere and buy a couch instead–Carmelo sent me a message saying that they’d have a final run of tickets that night at 10 o’clock. It seemed, as they say, too good to be true. I didn’t even have to make a decision. I was given a chance to go and I took it.
Surprisingly, a couple of people who lived around us also got tickets and in the end there were four of us going. Carmelo was taking a plane, and another guy was going by bus, so in the end we got there by planes, trains, and automobiles (wink, wink, nudge, nudge).
The unfortunate thing in getting there separately, though, was having no direct overlap where we could all meet up. Carmelo spent the first day with his girlfriend, and after lack of planning on our part, our other friend made his own itinerary for the weekend. And if you recall, I decided to ‘wing it’.
I woke up on Saturday before six o’clock, and after stuffing my backpack half full of t-shirts, a rain jacket, and the other half with my camera, Dune, and food for the day I was out the door by seven. I don’t think I asked anyone for a ride, but since everyone was already on their own trips I don’t think it would’ve done me any good, so I was on my own to walk to the train station. My neighbor and former college classmate, who’d also be going to Tokyo, told me the night before to take the train to a regional town where I could then be resigned to the shinkansen. It was at first something I wanted to avoid, but with a couple cuts to my materialistic budget, I think the convenience and experience is worth it.
After all, I got on the first train at 8:00, and after switching, arrived at Tokyo some fifty pages into Dune, not sleep deprived, and around 11:00 making less than half the time of a bus ride at less than double the price. I didn’t know quite what to do first, and if you’ve never been dropped off at Tokyo station let me tell you it’s a trip. It felt like the part in a Hollywood sci-fi where the crew of a space ship has to evacuate before something self-destructs, so everyone is running all over the place and the fluorescent lights and signs are all in some alien language. Eventually, I decided to go to the place I knew would require the shortest amount of time: Harajuku.
If you were a teenager in the 2000s you almost certainly remember when Gwen Stefani hit her prime and went crazy about Bananas. Well, a lot of her influence during that time also came from Japan and specifically the unique trends from Harajuku’s Takeshita street. It is a pretty sweet spot especially if you’re a young Japanese girl ready to spend a lot of money, but seeing as I’m hardly any of the above, I knew it wouldn’t take long for me to pass through. I really just had almost a wistful longing to go there as it’s a decent vibe of Tokyo on a whole.
It’s hard to believe that across from the street, literally on the other side of the train tracks, the city shops evaporate into almost two hundred acres of forest that make up the Meiji shrine, a park and temple dedicated to their emperor of their restorative period. It’s sort of like being in New York City, and then happening upon Central Park, but only if the entirety of Central Park was like a huge memorial to George Washington, Lincoln, FDR, Kennedy, and Reagan complete with cherry blossoms and air force ones. It’s a neat break while you’re staying in the city.
After that I cruised over to, well, the outskirts of Tokyo, over a half hour train ride, to go to the acclaimed Tokyo Game Show. This was one of many annual events that were being held over the weekend, and supposedly an event that should wow and please.
I’d hate to say it was an overall flop, but it at least lacked a form of bravado. I think I was still on the thrill of the E3 announcements, and expected some more previews to come out of Japan. Alas, it was mainly promotion of smaller games and studios, plenty of mobile trials, and hardly anything blockbuster. Especially as a foreigner I hardly knew many of the Japanese based brands, and had little money to spend on the elitist gear they were shipping out. I guess it was fun to see Star Wars Battlefront being played, and I tested out the newest revamp of one of my favorite series, Need for Speed, but otherwise the next best thing was Final Fantasy Online, and with so many previews already of games that are supposed to coming out next year (FF15, KH3, Fallout, Mirror’s Edge, Uncharted) I was hoping for a bit more.
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Getting there, walking around, having lunch, and winning a free shirt still took up the afternoon, and by the time I reached the station I realized that I was actually in a pretty fantastic place. The whole convention center is beyond the normal sightseeing trip in Tokyo, so in order to entice people to stay in the city they’ve ingeniously placed a whole outdoor outlet mall right outside the station. As the nights have been getting darker and darker around six o’clock when I get home from school, I’ve been wanting to find a store where I could get some bright clothes to run around in. I hit the Nike store first, and since I was there decided to rummage around the Gap, Vans, Bathing Apes, Northface, et cetera. In the end I did only buy one flourescent yellow singlet and matching shirt, but I also recognized that no matter where I am, shopping is such a soothing hobby for me.
I wound up drifting around Tokyo for the remainder of the night, heading around Akihabara, Shibuya, and finally landing in Shinjuku. Both places I’d hoped to stay fell through and I resigned to put down the extra cash to stay at a capsule hotel. Like the shinkansen, though, I felt the money was worth the experience. I ended up wandering over a mile through the city going to three different hotels before I found one with an open bed, deviously placed on the road in between Kabukicho and Nichome. It cost ￥3,200 which for a night in one of the world most expensive cities isn’t the worst deal. Once I made it past the cross dresser in the stairway I found the corridor for my capsule and was glad to note everything was clean and quiet. They even had razors and pre-pasted toothbrushes in the washroom. I plugged in my phone flitting at 1% battery, and read a bit of Dune (a seemingly cliched but so far terrific sci-fi epic), finally feeling content. I was more than enervated by the day that I felt alone and wasted. I knew I was exaggerating these feelings in my mind, but I really felt like I just wanted to call it a holiday and go home the next day–like that spaceship that I was on in Tokyo station really did explode, and my escape pod could only contain one person and now I was drifting seeing the wonders of the universe without really being able to interact with it. I made more of a plan as I laid to sleep, knowing exactly where I’d start my day, and deciding to tackle it with a much more positive attitude.
Now for the longest three days in recent memory. I mean, not much can be said in terms of what I expected and what I definitely did not think about, but basically the JET orientation in Tokyo was a huge daze of information fed and repeated while we tried to figure out what exactly was “cool biz” appropriate.
But seriously, walking into the main hall for our welcome reception I think the biggest thing that hit me was just the fact that there were so many of us (not only keeping in mind that there are another two groups after ours). At some point we were told that there are about 2,000 JETs this year, and at least a thousand fit into this room.
We sat patiently through various workshops, lectures, and redundancy, while basically taking three things away from it:
1.) Don’t Drink
2.) Don’t Upset Your Boss
3.) You Represent Your Country
It’s all really just a big blur looking back on it, but I think I retained enough to come in handy when I really need it. That night there was a closing reception where I could finally meet all the people heading to Fukui prefecture with me, and I’ve gotta say: despite there being a bunch of us, I really lucked out in terms of having a cool crew to join me on this journey. I suppose only time will tell, but for now I’m doing alright.
I think the most amazing part of being in Tokyo was the ability to see my long lost roommate and onii-chan, Yasushi. After a day like the one I had I was ready to pass out before 9 o’clock, but once I trudged down to the lobby to see him I became revitalized. It’s hard to believe that it’d been over two years since we’d seen each other, and it really didn’t feel like any time had passed since I waved him goodbye back at St. Olaf. We spent most of the night out, and it really gave me a sense of assurance that whatever does happen to me in Japan I’ll always find a home to go back to. Today was really the first time that I realized I’d be OK staying here for more than a year, or at least in the sense that I had nothing to fear about not going home after this one had passed. Although again, only time will tell.
Let me first start by saying it truly is a miracle that I was ready to go, but also admit that by ready to go I only include having my bags packed. The day I left for Seattle I was in no shape ready to leave, and despite having a couple of days still in America to sort things out before my trip, I really squandered any opportunities to set my life in order. In reality, though, I knew exactly how I would do things and feel (or hope at least) that any consequences will be trivial. Mainly, this first month in Japan may be a bit of an issue, but it’s nothing that my time spent in New York (and in some ways Northfield) didn’t prepare me to handle.
But hey, I made the plane at 6:50 in the morning, made it soundly through the three hour flight, and — while dragging two fifty pound suitcases, lugging another 40 pound duffel bag, and wearing my backpack — made it through downtown Seattle to find my way at my former college roommate, teammate, friend, and all around life-saver’s front door. When I made it back he was still in school, and so I had nothing to do but completely crash and take a nap until he came back from lab.
We went out that night for dinner and drinks, explore some of the more original parts of Seattle. It’s pretty strange for me to look back and think that those would be the most recent American memories I’d have to compare to the left I’m expecting, but on a whole I’d say the arcade/bar/concert venue we drifted into summed up all the good parts of young city life. We didn’t stay out too late that night because the next morning I had pre-departure something or other for my trip. I woke up fairly early, and after breakfast, moped around, dressing in business attire including a new sport coat bought specifically and necessarily for this trip. After too many times of checking my watch, and missing a bus stop or two, I made it to the consulate of Japan’s residence.
It was pretty unsettling the first time seeing everyone sitting in the basement and still a bit looking back on it. Like, here were 64 people about to embark to Japan to teach that I had no clue about. We shared so many similarities and were all too different beneath the surface. Most of all, past the following two day that we’d be travelling together, there was a strong chance that I would never see any of them again. It’s a haunting feeling that definitely shaped that way I behaved with most people this past week, and one that I’m finally moving out of.
The night it was decided that John and I would attempt to make one of the most American dinners possible for my last meal stateside. After a quick run along the river we decided on Mac & Cheese (a Midwestern delicacy) and while I packed and repacked my things John got the ingredients. I must admit right now that I have never seen someone more proficient in the kitchen than John and without any sense of a recipe he always makes the perfect meal. I think he gets it from his dad who once cooked traditional paella and fresh crab for me back to back.
Anyway, we went out a bit late that night and ran into Stina Nesbit of all people who ended up being fantastic and buying a lot of our drinks — exactly what you want when it comes to a last night out. By the time it came to getting to the airport I had just the right amount of fatigue to help me sleep the ten hour plane ride off, but enough energy to keep me from having a very destructive hangover.
The airport was packed, but we got through security pretty easily. Once I got on the plane I almost instantly pulled on my eye-shades and plugged into a podcast, and apart from eating lunch, I slept for a good five hours. Two movies and a couple TV shows later, lo and behold we landed in Japan. From there it was another two hours by bus, but finally we arrived at the hotel. Five star, amazing and what not, right in the heart of Shinjuku. I went out with a guy named Thomas who’d actually probably become one of the few that I’ll see again, and after a very awkward stint trying to order ramen and find a bar we had what could only be describes for foreigners in our situation as a completely successful night. On a whole the day was definitely exhaustive, but how naive was I to think that the most difficult of the trip was finally behind me.
DILLON TRAVELS 