topu tenu

ashlee, isaac and i recently watched high fidelity, thus inspiring me to do a list of the top ten (rather than five) debacles, experiences, emotions, etc. of my two weeks in japan.

10. the bike debacle
today i went into takasaki. i parked ashlee’s bike near the train station, where i always park it. when i returned after wandering around, the bike was nowhere to be found. in a country where one consistently sees people set their bags and computers down, reminiscent of the caf entrance at olaf, i knew no one had stolen the bike. after wandering around for awhile, i went to the police station. after some confusion, i tried to convey the bike was GONE but not necessarily STOLEN. in these situations it’s as if we act as thesauri, fishing for any thing that your partner in broken-english conversation might recognize. after some finagling, and a via-phone translator, the police officer led me to a small area on the other side of the station with about fifty bikes. when i tried to ask “why?” i realized that wasn’t a pertinent question. i accepted i would never know and unlocked the bike as the police officer looked on, looking slightly more confused than me.

9. being a wrench in the well-oiled system that is japan.
japanese culture is amazing. one-of-a-kind. no litter yet there are no garbage cans to be found. sometimes when you are in a busy shopping mall with multiple workers you can be welcomed to the store about a billion times in a minute. people stand at stoplights, with no cars coming, pondering if they should break with the norm, go against the signal and cross the street. those tidbits might not add up to a cohesive view of the most developed asian country. if they do not, i apologize. look at ashlee or isaac or blog. they are the resident experts.

anyway, sometimes it’s fun being sort of japanese-looking (i don’t think so, but japanese people seem to) and not able to understand. there are about a million tangents i could enter, but i will not digress at this time. i am akin to the wrench in the system, the virus in the computer that the genius engineers never expected. suffice it to say, i love looking at people’s faces when i stare into their eyes blankly. if they have enough english to chuckle about it, we do so. otherwise, they just walk away, befuddled by the girl who almost ran into them while trying to gracefully weave her bike between pedestrians, bikes and cars or who has no idea that they just asked if i wanted my rice ball heated up.

8. onsens
perhaps one of the greatest things about japanese culture are the onsens. onsens are essentially baths and can also be hot springs. many hotels have public onsens and there are entire facilities dedicated to the practice of bathing and relaxation. onsens are separated for men and women to foster the appropriate sense of openness to allow public (or semi-public) nudity. the best onsens have freezing cold baths that you can plunge into following the 100 degree celsius sauna or the hot baths. it’s like you can feel every part of your body waking up, like new.

7. ueno
ueno mura is the village isaac calls home and is a part of japan i know i never would’ve seen without isaac as a guide. the windy drive from takasaki, the city ashlee lives in, grows increasingly more mountainous and less populated. highlights: swimming in a river directly downstream from a waterfall and picnicking on japanese cuisine on a peak above the city.

6. nikko
nikko is one of my favorite places in japan. it is home to one of the most famous shinto shrines, tosho-gu shrine-mausoleum which is dedicated to tokugawa ieyasu, and perfectly coalesces the emphasis shintoism places upon natural beauty and spiritual centers. this is one of my favorite little temples and is situated among giant trees that contrast with the red of the temple roofs (the other shrines are a lot more grand, this is a little guy). shinto and buddhist temples throughout japan, notably in nikko and kyoto, have consistently helped me understand organized religion, something that more often befuddles me. it also makes me think of a part of dave eggers’ short story, “the meaning of the oil-wet water.”

“she closed her eyes. opened them, closed them. she could end this world or allow it. this was a moment when a believer, a thoughtful believer, would think of god’s work, and how good it was. the waves were perfect to the right and perfect to the left… for a while she was enchanted by those who proposed that god was in nature, was all around us, was the accumulated natural world. “god,” they would suggest, “is in all living things. god is beauty, god is the long grass and the foam finishing a waterfall.” that sort of thing. she liked that idea, god being in things that she could see, because she liked seeing things and wanted to believe in these things that she loved looking at—loved the notion that it was all here and easily observable, which one’s eyes being in some way the clergy, the connection between god and—…
but a single contained god implied or insisted upon a hierarchy that she didn’t accept. god gave way to a system of extremes, and implied choices, and choices required separations, divisions, subtle condemnations. she was not ready to choose one god, so there would not be this sort of god in pilar’s world, and thus the transcendental diety—…
but then why god at all? the oil-wet water was not god. it was not the least bit spiritual. it was oil-wet water, and it felt perfect when pilar put her hand into it, and it kissed her palm again and again, would never stop kissing her palm and why wasn’t that enough?” (EGGERS, ON HOW WE ARE HUNGRY, P. 52)

5. roadtrips
be it driving with the music blasting in isaac’s car, watching the mountains rise from the city streets or making up songs to sing with ashlee (as her car only has am radio), driving is such a phenomenal way to see a country. especially when ashlee and i got lost approximately twenty times on the way to the shinozaki farm and then to nikko. being a navigator in a country that utilizes kanji is another level all together.

4. the fish market debacle
though we eventually reigned victorious over the toshugi fish market, one of the most famous fish markets in the world, it was not always so. isaac, ashlee and i spent my first weekend in tokyo. following a night at a bar/restraunt on saturday, we awoke at 3:45 am to get to the toshugi fish market in time for the renowned fish auction. we arrived at the train station, only to find it closed. we decided to take a cab, one of the most expensive ventures in a country of mass-transportation. thirty dollars later (for a short cab ride), we arrived on the corner of the fish market only to realize it is closed on sundays. to say we should have known better is an understatement.

3. food
food is always a factor. if you know me, you know the amount of time mentally allocated to planning meals, perfect bites and the like. japanese food is stupendous, partly due to its freshness and the purity of each taste. though wasabi is used as a flavoring, it seems the perfect illustration of japanese food—one taste obliterates everything but the overwhelming sensation of indescribable-nasal-passage-clearing euphoria. some other favorites are rice triangles that are filled with salmon and wrapped in seaweed, tempura (like fried, only lighter), edamame (boiled soybeans), sushi rolls and sashimi (raw fish without the rice or seaweed).

i also love japanese food because of the presentation. everything is arranged to maximize the aesthetic value of your culinary experience. one of our best meals was when ash and i had sushi for breakfast at the tsujiki fish market (following our first failed attempt). however, experimentation can also lead to regret—like trying sea urchin for the first time and having to somehow choke down the entire roll. one word: goozey. or accidentally buying fermented bean sushi for a picnic—you should have seen the rolls unfurl as isaac and i chucked them over the cliff.

2. drinking with ashlee’s landlord, mr. sakaguchi, and the shinozaki farm
ashlee’s landlord, mr. sakaguchi, told her that she should contact koigi shinozaki—a former olympic equestrian—if she ever wanted to ride horses. since the ranch he owns is close to nikko, we decided to spend the night. the shinozaki’s house is surrounded by a bamboo forest and a lush garden. in the yard is also a small cabin-like structure for parties and get-togethers. at the middle of the “bamboo-wind-house” is a small grill. when we arrived at the ranch koigi took us the the small house where ashlee’s landlord, self-proclaimed “mr. jordan” (his self-proclaimed nickname which translates as “mr. joker” in japanese), was already quite “happy” at eleven in the morning. it’s difficult to convey the hilarity of seeing a japanese man so openly emotional and animated. between singing drinking songs and avowing his personal philosophies, i.e. thanking his wife three times consecutively, he had us rolling in the aisles.

additionally, the whole shinozaki farm experience turned out to be unreal—a house that could have been taken straight from minnesota (where corrine, koigi’s wife was born), complete with pictures of the twin cities, articles about the newly-renovated guthrie on the refrigerator, central air and heat and two of the most gracious hosts known to man. it was as if we had driven to the center of japan to discover an oasis more extraordinary than a mirage.

1. kindreds
but, ultimately, the reason i came to japan was to see ashlee and isaac. ashlee and i spent two days in tokyo and during those two days i essentially forgot i was in japan. vertigo impelled by happiness clouded our location. hanging out, shopping for cds, walking around, picnicking in the park we just happened to be surrounded by asian people. i’m glad to have visited japan before because it took the pressure off of lounging in bed and watching the horse whisperer and sex and the city. once when the three of us were driving somewhere i had the distinct feeling that if i died at that moment, i would be at peace. i know that’s a strange way to express an emotion, but i guess it is the pure sense of truly feeling and accepting, things that don’t always impel such a sense of completeness.