There is something strange in the miso soup

Today I woke up at 2 AM, went to bed at 3PM and woke up again at 10 PM. Exactly what you’re not supposed to do when jetlagged. Whatever – it’s not like I was taking the SATs on Saturday.

It’s my second day in Tokyo and I’m impressed. I like it here. Tokyo is strange – that I must say to preambule this post. It’s strange in an interesting way (though sometimes it feels a bit overwhelming…).

Since I cannot really see myself falling asleep in the next ten hours or so, I will describe extensively why I think Tokyo is the weirdest urban extravaganza I’ve ever seen.

3:30 AM: I went to see the temple in Asakusa.

4 AM: I went to the famous fish market in Tsukiji. It was raining as crazy. There was a lo

t of fish and some jetlagged Westerners. I forgot to pack some reasonable hiking shoes so I was traversing through mud, rain and ponds of fish blood in my Ted Baker’s. I hope the blood stains stay on the black leather at least until tomorrow when I’m meeting my groupies from SANC. Imagine how cool I’ll look. Maybe, I’ll go back to Tsukiji in a few hours just to get blood on my shirt, as well. Man! Somehow I feel that Quentin Tarantino would have casted me immediately for Kill Bill #3 – had he seen me.

6AM: I walked to Ginza, which is Tokyo’s most upscale neighborhood. I strolled through Tokyo’s “5^th Avenue” – (eeerrgghhh, I hate when people use fifth avenue in reference to random streets ….there’s only one worse thing: in Prague, they call a little dinghole street, which is like five meters long and has one Dior store, Champs- Elysees. Awkward.). Ginza felt really strange. Somehow all the glitzy high-fashion stores lose their allure when it’s raining, humid, and you smell like an aquarium.

7AM: From Ginza, I took subway to Harajuku – an allegedly trendy hood (my city guide refers to Harajuku as Tokyo’s “East Village.” Jesus! Why is NYC the reference point of every travel guide writer?). Harajuku is pretty charming. It’s hilly and the stores aren’t as ostentatious as in Ginza. On Sundays, crowds of fashion-obsessed Japanese teens are supposed to flock Harajuku. We’ll see…

8AM: I walked to Shibuya. On the way there I saw some pretty weird things. Like the “Muscle Theatre” or a crowd of women with pink umbrellas waiting in front of a churchlike concrete building, or a dozen of construction workers being instructed how to practice taichi. I guess I use the word weird just to refer to something not soordinary. Nevertheless, I think that most Yalies, too, would be “weirded out” if they saw construction workers in Calhoun suddenly forming perfect lines, engaging in synchronized movements. Oh, well…

8:30 AM: At Shibuya station, I tried to look for the easiest way to get to Shinjuku. “Oh! I see a bus! It’s gotta be going there! Why don’t I get a ride? Awesome!”…. WRONG. Never EVER take a bus in Tokyo. Not foreigner-friendly at all. They don’t have schedules. They don’t have announcements in English. The bus drivers don’t speak English. You never know how much you’re being charged. There’s only Kanji. HOW MUCH MORE DO YOU NEED TO KNOW?

Well, I was too scared to ask anyone. Everybody was staring at me. Nobody was willing to sit next to me. I know I am a foreigner with blood on his shoes. But come on, guys! I must have looked like I was in need of help….I wanted to call Yale Police. But ooops! There’s no Yale police! I thought I was going to call my best friend (or my parents, or 911, or Light Fellowship). But ooops! I don’t have any numbers. I thought I was going to call the MEDEX emergency number (that’s how desperate I was). But ooops! I don’t have a phone. So here I was, sitting on a bus bound to %^@#%#$^@$%^ having no idea what to do. Ok, I am no longer a teenager, I am a Yale undergraduate – you’d think I could do better. But have you ever been in a bus where no one wants to sit next to you? (I’m so glad there were no little Japanese kids cause these burst straight into tears when they see me). In fact, I myself was close to tears when I saw the regal Tokyo skyline disappearing and little rice fields fillinng the panorama in front of me. Well, long story made short, I gathered all my wits and made the smartest decision in my life: don’t move. I decided to stay on the bus no matter what – sooner or later it will have to return to its mother station in Tokyo. And indeed, it did! After several hours.

12:30 PM (please note the time difference): I took subway to Shinjuku from Shibuya. A policeman pushed me inside the car. I could hear the heartbeat of entire Tokyo. I have never been that close to so many people ever before. Well, good thing I was only smelling like dead fish. (Cause there are obviously worse fragrances). In Shinjuku, I immediately searched for “Don Quixote” – a chain super-cheap store, where I bought new socks. The old ones were dripping in blood and mud. I knew I had to find Starbucks in the Shinjuku jungle SOMEWHERE. and indeed! I found one overlooking one of the busiest Shinjuku intersections. What a relief! An overpriced cup of coffee never tasted better.

13:00 PM I thought I would brighten my day up. So I went to Takashimaya – a department store in Shinjuku that has a great collection of foreign magazines. Well, luckily, they didn’t have any of my favorites. The assistant in Takashimaya, however, was so “ashamed” that they didn’t carry any of my magazines that, in apologizing, she started crying. I wanted to hug her and tell her it wasn’t her fault. But then I decided not to – maybe that’s not what people do in Japan. (well, newspaper agents definitely don’t cry in the US). I left the store feeling a bit strange – the magazine lady kept shouting that they’d surely have it next time. Now, I totally have to come back and get it.

14:00 PM I went to Jimbocho – a hood with the highest concentration of stores that sell used books. I don’t really know why. I just felt like it. And it was a great experience – I sifted through an amazing collection of 19^th century Japanese travel books! I felt so upbeat and uplifted. If only they didn’t play Lady Gaga. (Don’t get me wrong, I love Poker Face. But sometimes you just don’t expect it. Toad’s on Saturday night: ok. A historical bookstore in Jimbocho on Thursday afternoon: NOT OK). After Jimbocho, I decided to peace out. I went back to Sumida-ku, where my hotel is (which looks, by the way, as if it was run by the Scarlet Gang of Asakusa). I lay down in my capsule and you know the rest.

….

Few more words before I end today’s post:

a. besides the fish market, I have seen a total number of zero foreigners. (and no, I have not been hanging out in some rural part of Hokkaido but in the busiest commercial districts of Tokyo).

b. No one eats outside (no eating on subway on the street or wherever).

c. No one talks in the public.

d. Five year-olds take subway on their own.

e. Customer Service in Japan is amazing.

f. People have their CCs memorized. If you ever thought that CCs were a bunch of useless dialogues that you will never need….well, you were wrong. Today, I have heard all CCs used in daily conversation …and by all I mean ALL. Lesson one through twentyfour. Maybe, I should have memorized them after all….

g. Japanese signs in English make no sense – ie (“Buy one t-shit, get 1200 Yen;””No-one step Bus” “Plant Quarantine” “Leave your relatives behind and the like”

conclusion of the day: So far, Tokyo seems really strange yet like totally smokin’. Amen.