I am in Kyushu.
I got here last night after what seemed like a duel with Tokyo about whether I'm "allowed" to go. My parents and I spent 2 days in Nikko and came back early afternoon -- they headed to the airport, while I went to train station to catch my 15:03 train to Fukuoka.
When I got to the train station, I saw a surprisingly large (by Tokyo standards; those who've been here will understand the scale of this gathering) group of people congregating by the entrance gates. I see some announcements in Japanese, but am of course clueless as to the reason for this confusion. I try my ticket through the gate but am refused entry. I try talking to the station guy in 3/4 English and 1/4 Japanese; he responds in 3/4 Japanese and 1/4 English. I understand that there's an accident and that the trains are running really late. Trains running late in Japan? I thought that impossible until yesterday. I try to ask the guy how much time he thinks I have (I needed to get a refund on my subway pass before heading out but thought that I didn't have time before the train); he chuckles and says "30 minutes; maybe 1 hour".
I decide to run the last Tokyo errand and get the refund. It's harder than it seems: every machine and every ticket office refuses me, sending me from one to the next. After about 15 minutes of seemingly incessant search, I reach my goal: I get the 3000 yen that was left on my subway card, and thinking that I still have at least 15 minutes before my "late" train, I head back to the Shinkansen (bullet train) gates.
Imagine my surprise when I find out that my train had just left. But I thought I had 30-60 minutes? No, it already left. All the other trains are still 30-60 minutes late. When is the next train? No one knows. Everything is running late. Really late. Hm. My backpack feels heavier by the second, and I feel completely lost in the crowd of Japanese travelers, also somewhat comfused by the lateness of the trains, but at least in the position to read the timetable and figure out when the next train comes. I continuously run back and forth between platforms, only to catch 2 (TWO!) trains, close their doors in front of my nose and head in the directions I need. At some point, I stop caring whetner I catch the train and start feeling the entire thing a game of how many trains I miss. I feel sweatier than I've ever been my entire life (topping Kyoto). I'm hungry and thirsty, but feel that I cannot escape the "run-to-the-platform-miss-the-train" game that I've been playing for almost an hour. Tokyo is clenching me and is not letting go.
I finally decided to just wait. I stand in line, surrounded by calmly-waiting Japanese. I decide that if they know what they are waiting for, I should wait with them. Sure enough, the next train comes in about 45 minutes, I take it and get to Fukuoka from that point on without a hitch. Only 2 hours late, which in the grand scheme of things is not that important. I finally got to eat a "bento" dinner on the train, and that made me happy.
I found the hostel, I checked in, and I slept. I feel great and am ready for new adventures. I will soon head south, to see Sakurajima (an active volcano; there's a "rain" of ash in the surrounding city, for which people there supposedly use umbrellas), and experience Japanese tropics. I don't know if I will have much internet past this point, but I'll try to post some udpates, but I will be back in the States in just a few days!
Monday, August 25, 2008
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Best Tokyo moments
As my Tokyo gig is coming to its end (leaving tomorrow for a 2-day trip to Nikko with my parents, who are now visiting Japan, and then traveling for a few more days by myself, before returning to the US), I'd like to post about a few of my favorite moments this summer:
Now (actually 6 days ago; somehow I couldn't find the time to post between now and then):
I'm loving this exact moment. It's raining hard again, with thunder and lightning fighting for who comes first. Which makes me so happily stuck at home. No longer a tourist, needing to be out and about every work-free minute in Japan. Just happy to be chilling in my once-seeming-so-institutional, but not so lovely (to me) room. Laundry is drying, kettle is boiling, the rain is hitting the window. Being so busy with both working and playing, I lately haven't had any time to just be. It's really a welcome change, if just for a few hours. My final presentation and paper (both due Monday) are finished. My upcoming trip is organized as best I could (meaning I have a hostel booked for the first night and a vague plan of where I want to go. I consider this organizational feat to be quite an accomplishment). I have plans to meet my RIKEN friends tonight. This is a good day.
Kittens in Shibuya:
No, this is not the name of some kitch Tokyo bar. There really were kittens in the middle of Shibuya. Shibuya is a part of Tokyo known for its crazy nightlife, where the main intersection (featured in Lost in Translation) typically looks like this:
Now (actually 6 days ago; somehow I couldn't find the time to post between now and then):
I'm loving this exact moment. It's raining hard again, with thunder and lightning fighting for who comes first. Which makes me so happily stuck at home. No longer a tourist, needing to be out and about every work-free minute in Japan. Just happy to be chilling in my once-seeming-so-institutional, but not so lovely (to me) room. Laundry is drying, kettle is boiling, the rain is hitting the window. Being so busy with both working and playing, I lately haven't had any time to just be. It's really a welcome change, if just for a few hours. My final presentation and paper (both due Monday) are finished. My upcoming trip is organized as best I could (meaning I have a hostel booked for the first night and a vague plan of where I want to go. I consider this organizational feat to be quite an accomplishment). I have plans to meet my RIKEN friends tonight. This is a good day.
Kittens in Shibuya:
No, this is not the name of some kitch Tokyo bar. There really were kittens in the middle of Shibuya. Shibuya is a part of Tokyo known for its crazy nightlife, where the main intersection (featured in Lost in Translation) typically looks like this:
(picture found online; I'll post my own later when I have easy access to my photo library)
Mitya and I turn the street, and the next thing I see are these 2 small kittens huddled next to each other on the protruding sign/roof of one of the many restaurants there. One of them was sleeping while the other one was gazing out on the crazy Tokyo street, almost looking in amazement at the bustling life below their haven. The 2 scenes just didn't belong together.
It was the most amazing feeling. Hundreds of people walking by, on the way their own destinations, always busy, always on the way somewhere. No one takes notice of the little creatures. We stand there for probably close to half hour, observing the kittens clean each other, sleep next to each other, observe the Shibuya craziness from the top of their secluded home. The Shibuya craziness doesn't take any notice. Sometimes we point out the creatures to random passerbys. Some people just don't see it and probably think us crazy. Others smile briefly and go on. One guy lingered for a while, taking in the scene. I was happy to share my "finding" with others; yet, this moment was so much my own, no other passerbys could take it away.
Yokohama fireworks
During Mitya's last night in Japan, we decided to go to Yokohama (which is only about 1.5 hours from where I live in Wakoshi; compared to the standard 1 hour it takes me to get anywhere in Tokyo, it doesn't seem to be much further. Everything about that evening was perfect. And even more perfect were the fireworks we happened to see, just for 1 moment. I should preface this by saying that there lots of fireworks in Japan in the summer, and most last 1.5-2 hours. Which is a LONG time to watch sparkles go up in the sky. These fireworks were different in that way; at least the glimpse we saw: We were walking along the bay, watching some teenagers play with sparklers, watching huge ships docked in the port, when all of a sudden I hear something, turn around, and for about 30 seconds watch the sky fill with the most amazing colorful fireworks that fill the entire sky. We watch in amazement, and before I know it, it's over; you are left with a feeling of catching a glimpse of something beautiful, completely by accident. A perfect fireworks show, if you ask me.
Mitya and I turn the street, and the next thing I see are these 2 small kittens huddled next to each other on the protruding sign/roof of one of the many restaurants there. One of them was sleeping while the other one was gazing out on the crazy Tokyo street, almost looking in amazement at the bustling life below their haven. The 2 scenes just didn't belong together.
It was the most amazing feeling. Hundreds of people walking by, on the way their own destinations, always busy, always on the way somewhere. No one takes notice of the little creatures. We stand there for probably close to half hour, observing the kittens clean each other, sleep next to each other, observe the Shibuya craziness from the top of their secluded home. The Shibuya craziness doesn't take any notice. Sometimes we point out the creatures to random passerbys. Some people just don't see it and probably think us crazy. Others smile briefly and go on. One guy lingered for a while, taking in the scene. I was happy to share my "finding" with others; yet, this moment was so much my own, no other passerbys could take it away.
Yokohama fireworks
During Mitya's last night in Japan, we decided to go to Yokohama (which is only about 1.5 hours from where I live in Wakoshi; compared to the standard 1 hour it takes me to get anywhere in Tokyo, it doesn't seem to be much further. Everything about that evening was perfect. And even more perfect were the fireworks we happened to see, just for 1 moment. I should preface this by saying that there lots of fireworks in Japan in the summer, and most last 1.5-2 hours. Which is a LONG time to watch sparkles go up in the sky. These fireworks were different in that way; at least the glimpse we saw: We were walking along the bay, watching some teenagers play with sparklers, watching huge ships docked in the port, when all of a sudden I hear something, turn around, and for about 30 seconds watch the sky fill with the most amazing colorful fireworks that fill the entire sky. We watch in amazement, and before I know it, it's over; you are left with a feeling of catching a glimpse of something beautiful, completely by accident. A perfect fireworks show, if you ask me.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Engrish
I learned 2 Japanese words today:
1. Chococro. (or ChococLo, if you prefer). Can you guess from this picture what it is?
Yes, of course, it's a CHOcolate CROissant! After 2 months in Japan, I should have been able to figure it out. But I admit, that I did not.
The construction is very Japanese. In the next lesson we will learn about pasokon, digicame, combini, depato, and depachika.
2. Hamegg:
You could argue that it's similar to Chococro, at least from the standpoint of linguistics. What's funny is that Japanese people are certain that 'hamegg' is the Western (American?) breakfast staple. And that it's called, of course, hamegg. Megumi was shocked that I had no idea what she was talking about. But I found a picture online:
Of course, it's a hamegg, what else could it be?
1. Chococro. (or ChococLo, if you prefer). Can you guess from this picture what it is?
Yes, of course, it's a CHOcolate CROissant! After 2 months in Japan, I should have been able to figure it out. But I admit, that I did not.
The construction is very Japanese. In the next lesson we will learn about pasokon, digicame, combini, depato, and depachika.
2. Hamegg:
You could argue that it's similar to Chococro, at least from the standpoint of linguistics. What's funny is that Japanese people are certain that 'hamegg' is the Western (American?) breakfast staple. And that it's called, of course, hamegg. Megumi was shocked that I had no idea what she was talking about. But I found a picture online:
Of course, it's a hamegg, what else could it be?
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Farewell party
Tonight, my lab threw me a farewell party! They kept trying to find a time for a 'welcome party', but by the time it was arranged, it was already time for farewell. I think time really flies faster in Japan.
First our lab went to a restaurant in Ikebukuro (the closest part of Tokyo to RIKEN), which has an all-you-can and all-you-can drink (within 2 hours!) shabu-shabu and sukiyaki. Both involve putting very thinly sliced pieces of meat and veggies into boiling broth of some sort. Shabu-shabu is then dipped into a mix of soy sauce, vinegar, and green onions. Sukiyaki is dipped in a raw egg. (It tastes better than it sounds, really). Both are incredibly delicious, but Shabu-Shabu felt more comfortable, given the lack of the raw egg. (at some point I started cheating by dipping Sukiyaki meat into the soy sauce, instead of the egg mixture. The rest of the group either didn't notice or was too polite to tell me that I was doing it wrong, for which I'm grateful).
After a brief stop at a 9-story bookstore (I'm not exaggerating) for the dog fashion magazine I've been searching for everywhere (I'm not lying; nor am I insane), we stopped at a sake bar. I'm really loving umeshu, a kind of wine made from Japanese plums (very different from the plum wine we have in the US). So flavorful and subtle at the same time.
The night ended with a present from Ozaki-san (the guy on the very left of the last picture). His wife makes jewelry and she made for me sushi-shaped earrings. They ar lovely!
Of course, the whole thing is bitter-sweet. I've been very happy here; learning lots without the everyday stress of graduate school and also having insane amounts of fun between my work hours. But home is waiting, and I'm glad for it.
First our lab went to a restaurant in Ikebukuro (the closest part of Tokyo to RIKEN), which has an all-you-can and all-you-can drink (within 2 hours!) shabu-shabu and sukiyaki. Both involve putting very thinly sliced pieces of meat and veggies into boiling broth of some sort. Shabu-shabu is then dipped into a mix of soy sauce, vinegar, and green onions. Sukiyaki is dipped in a raw egg. (It tastes better than it sounds, really). Both are incredibly delicious, but Shabu-Shabu felt more comfortable, given the lack of the raw egg. (at some point I started cheating by dipping Sukiyaki meat into the soy sauce, instead of the egg mixture. The rest of the group either didn't notice or was too polite to tell me that I was doing it wrong, for which I'm grateful).
After a brief stop at a 9-story bookstore (I'm not exaggerating) for the dog fashion magazine I've been searching for everywhere (I'm not lying; nor am I insane), we stopped at a sake bar. I'm really loving umeshu, a kind of wine made from Japanese plums (very different from the plum wine we have in the US). So flavorful and subtle at the same time.
The night ended with a present from Ozaki-san (the guy on the very left of the last picture). His wife makes jewelry and she made for me sushi-shaped earrings. They ar lovely!
Of course, the whole thing is bitter-sweet. I've been very happy here; learning lots without the everyday stress of graduate school and also having insane amounts of fun between my work hours. But home is waiting, and I'm glad for it.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Peer pressure
Last Saturday morning, I had a simple plan: go to Harajuku with a couple of girls to shop for a just a few souvenirs and go home in early afternoon to run some scripts and finally relax a bit. Sounds like a reasonable, harmless plan, until you put 3 somewhat nerdy, normally-not-so girly graduate student girls in Harajuku (teenage girl mecca), who all of a sudden realized that their stay in Japan in almost over and that something exciting needs to be done.
What would that be? A Japanese haircut, of course!
I had no intention of getting a haircut; after all, I've been growing out my hair for many months now. And explaining how I want my hair cut to a Japanese person? forget it. But groupthink got the best of me. We took some "before" pictures:
We bravely opened the door to the Peek-A-Boo salon, lavishly advertised in Guneeta's guidebook. We were greeted by what looked like dozens Japanese men. All dressed in black. As soon as we walk in, they ALL start asking what we want. Talk about overwhelming! We try to explain (mostly using gestures). After lots of nods and very fast Japanese conversation, I'm taken to a chair. An older Japanese guy (owner?) comes along and starts telling the guy how to cut my hair. I don't understand a word, but the older guy has an air of confidence around him, and so I decide to let myself be surprised at the outcome.
I have never seen so many people work at a beauty salon. The Japanese hierarchy system is
ubiquitous; even here, there are guys who wash hair, guys who cut hair, guys who advise on cutting hair, guys who assist with cutting hair, guys that bring things to the guys who assist the guys who cut hair. Yes, they were all men (with 1 or 2 exceptions).
After only about an hour of this madness, the process was complete:
Actually, the madness continues, as my hair now looks like a uniform ball of mess (since I lack both the time and the ability to style it for the 1 hour it took them at the salon). I woke up the next day, felt my head, and thought to myself: "I cant' believe you did that." Oh well, it's a Japanese experience that will stay with me for months to come.
What would that be? A Japanese haircut, of course!
I had no intention of getting a haircut; after all, I've been growing out my hair for many months now. And explaining how I want my hair cut to a Japanese person? forget it. But groupthink got the best of me. We took some "before" pictures:
We bravely opened the door to the Peek-A-Boo salon, lavishly advertised in Guneeta's guidebook. We were greeted by what looked like dozens Japanese men. All dressed in black. As soon as we walk in, they ALL start asking what we want. Talk about overwhelming! We try to explain (mostly using gestures). After lots of nods and very fast Japanese conversation, I'm taken to a chair. An older Japanese guy (owner?) comes along and starts telling the guy how to cut my hair. I don't understand a word, but the older guy has an air of confidence around him, and so I decide to let myself be surprised at the outcome.
I have never seen so many people work at a beauty salon. The Japanese hierarchy system is
ubiquitous; even here, there are guys who wash hair, guys who cut hair, guys who advise on cutting hair, guys who assist with cutting hair, guys that bring things to the guys who assist the guys who cut hair. Yes, they were all men (with 1 or 2 exceptions).
After only about an hour of this madness, the process was complete:
Actually, the madness continues, as my hair now looks like a uniform ball of mess (since I lack both the time and the ability to style it for the 1 hour it took them at the salon). I woke up the next day, felt my head, and thought to myself: "I cant' believe you did that." Oh well, it's a Japanese experience that will stay with me for months to come.
Kimono-wearing lesson
In preparation for a big even this coming Thursday (a Yukata-clad (all-you-can-drink) cruise through Tokyo Bay!), Joana and I bought ourselves some yukatas (a light(er), summer kimono). Mine even came with picture-based instructions, so we figured no problem. After all, we saw enough girls wearing yukata all over the city, and how hard can it really be? Well, we were wrong.
After several feeble attempts at putting this thing together, and wondering what to do with all the strings that came with it, let along the obi (sash), we decided to ask for help. I asked Megumi-san (the awesome assistant in our lab, on the right), who in turn asked Okano-san (a kimono master!, on the left). This evening after work, we had a little impromptu lesson in my room:
It was mostly a success; although, the true test will come on Thursday, when we'll have to not only do it on our own, but also help another friend who was not able to come for the lesson. Turns out, the only way for this thing to not look completely ridiculous is for me to put wrap 2 towels around my waist to try to get rid of it and equalize it somewhat with my un-Japanese hips. And for the full effect, I needed to put a folded up magazine (a piece of cardboard would also work but that wouldn't be quite as creative). A shorter body would also help, but I'm afraid no pillows or magazines will help there.
Stay tuned for the report from the cruise!
After several feeble attempts at putting this thing together, and wondering what to do with all the strings that came with it, let along the obi (sash), we decided to ask for help. I asked Megumi-san (the awesome assistant in our lab, on the right), who in turn asked Okano-san (a kimono master!, on the left). This evening after work, we had a little impromptu lesson in my room:
It was mostly a success; although, the true test will come on Thursday, when we'll have to not only do it on our own, but also help another friend who was not able to come for the lesson. Turns out, the only way for this thing to not look completely ridiculous is for me to put wrap 2 towels around my waist to try to get rid of it and equalize it somewhat with my un-Japanese hips. And for the full effect, I needed to put a folded up magazine (a piece of cardboard would also work but that wouldn't be quite as creative). A shorter body would also help, but I'm afraid no pillows or magazines will help there.Stay tuned for the report from the cruise!
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Ramblings
Time is flying by. My parents come in a week, we spend some time sight-seeing here, then I travel solo for a week (maybe Hokkaido, although I'm still not fully committed), and then I'm back in the US, ready (or not) for my 5th year of graduate school. I don't like the feeling that time is running out; but as I realize that I likely won't be able to finish up the project I came here to do, or as I think about only 1.5 weekends left in Tokyo, it inevitably shows its ugly head. So at least I want to try to document some glimpses of my life before it all becomes nothing but a distant memory.
I've now settled into a routine: I wake up relatively late, go to work by 9:30-10:30, stay at work till ~ 7:00, have dinner and hang out in the evenings with some of the other people who are temporarily at RIKEN (from all over the world, but not so many Japanese, unfortunatelly...). Or I ride my bike to buy some food at the grocery store. Or just stay in and read a book. Or go for a drink at a local pub. I don't feel like doing much sightseeing in the evenings anymore, and things that seemed so strangely-cutely-interestingly Japanese are not that surprising anymore. Don't people fall dead asleep in trains/subway everywhere in the world? Men don't wear purses? I'm wondering sometimes how will it feel to be back in the US. Sometimes I feel like I've been here for ages; and sometimes -- just a bit over a day. I'm guessing that's normal.
I haven't written much if anything about many short trips I've taken. Maybe it's time to start doing it. Although not sure if I'll be able to describe it better than pictures, most of which are on Flickr. (although if it surprises anyone, i'm behind on uploading those too). I wanted to have a blog to just have notes of some interesting things I see or hear, or participate in here, without necessarily maintaining the "Yesterday I did so and so" style. But time is running out, if not now, it will be never. So here's my feeble attempt at recording my life here. A few more posts will follow, with a more "did this, saw that" kind of a theme.
In many ways it feels much like summer camp. Especially recently, since I've met others who are here temporarily (some are summer students like me; others are here for 1-3 years doing postdocs). We went for sushi (kaitenzushi -- sushi that comes on a rotating belt, and you can just grab what you like from the belt or order directly from the guy making the sushi); we had Italian Food night (with delicious risotto, thank you Paolo and Giorgio!), cocktail & kimono night, a frog-searching expedition, an all-night-long-dancing event, fireworks festival, and tonight we are riding our bikes to a somewhat nearby onsen (hot springs; one the best things in Japan :) ).
I work many hours, but I seem to lack my everyday-graduate-school-related-stress. Maybe
because this is temporary and/or because it is so far away, and/or because it seems
so it's carefree. And at the same time, I'm guessing it won't be so bad to return my normal life after a 2-month-long summer camp. Hopefully, more refreshed, enthusiastic, and with some lessons learned, while at "camp."
I've now settled into a routine: I wake up relatively late, go to work by 9:30-10:30, stay at work till ~ 7:00, have dinner and hang out in the evenings with some of the other people who are temporarily at RIKEN (from all over the world, but not so many Japanese, unfortunatelly...). Or I ride my bike to buy some food at the grocery store. Or just stay in and read a book. Or go for a drink at a local pub. I don't feel like doing much sightseeing in the evenings anymore, and things that seemed so strangely-cutely-interestingly Japanese are not that surprising anymore. Don't people fall dead asleep in trains/subway everywhere in the world? Men don't wear purses? I'm wondering sometimes how will it feel to be back in the US. Sometimes I feel like I've been here for ages; and sometimes -- just a bit over a day. I'm guessing that's normal.
I haven't written much if anything about many short trips I've taken. Maybe it's time to start doing it. Although not sure if I'll be able to describe it better than pictures, most of which are on Flickr. (although if it surprises anyone, i'm behind on uploading those too). I wanted to have a blog to just have notes of some interesting things I see or hear, or participate in here, without necessarily maintaining the "Yesterday I did so and so" style. But time is running out, if not now, it will be never. So here's my feeble attempt at recording my life here. A few more posts will follow, with a more "did this, saw that" kind of a theme.
In many ways it feels much like summer camp. Especially recently, since I've met others who are here temporarily (some are summer students like me; others are here for 1-3 years doing postdocs). We went for sushi (kaitenzushi -- sushi that comes on a rotating belt, and you can just grab what you like from the belt or order directly from the guy making the sushi); we had Italian Food night (with delicious risotto, thank you Paolo and Giorgio!), cocktail & kimono night, a frog-searching expedition, an all-night-long-dancing event, fireworks festival, and tonight we are riding our bikes to a somewhat nearby onsen (hot springs; one the best things in Japan :) ).
I work many hours, but I seem to lack my everyday-graduate-school-related-stress. Maybe
because this is temporary and/or because it is so far away, and/or because it seems
so it's carefree. And at the same time, I'm guessing it won't be so bad to return my normal life after a 2-month-long summer camp. Hopefully, more refreshed, enthusiastic, and with some lessons learned, while at "camp."
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