Man, Saturday was so long ago… I’m gonna have to do some digging on this one. Let me start by posting my first HDR photo so far. This is Nijubashi, or more commonly known as Spectacle Bridge. In terms of parts of the Imperial Palace that the public can actually see, it’s probably the most photographed place.

Saturday began with a culture class. Once again, all the Americans gathered together in room 201 at the school on a Saturday morning. The weather was great and it just got better as time went by. Those who brought umbrellas expecting the kind of weather we’ve been having during the week probably felt pretty foolish by midday.

Our syllabus said that Mr. Yagino would be discussing “a general view of Japan.” It’s hard to imagine a lecture any more general than the first one. He touched upon a little bit of everything, swinging wildly from topic to topic. It’s hard to summarize without bullet points, but it certainly was never boring. It’s also hard to fault any presenter of material when they’re as energetic as Mr. Yagino was. Saturday’s lecture was actually more focused. He still managed to talk about a wide range of topics, but the general theme of “history” was broad enough that he could keep everything tied together.

After the lecture, all the Americans blundered down the street to a nearby Ramen shop. We nearly filled the entire restaurant. This was my first Ramen shop that had the vending machine ordering system. Apparently it’s pretty common, but I had yet to see it. You actually order the food at a vending machine. It then prints out a ticket which you then hand to the cook. It’s consistent with Japanese society’s tendency to make as many things possible without speaking to another human being as possible. Most everything can be bought from a vending machine, there’s no real reason to say anything while shopping at a convenience store, and you can travel from one end of Tokyo to another without opening your mouth once.

While most of the Americans ordered the plain Ramen, I tried spicy Ramen. The cook warned that it was very hot, and it was. By the midway point, my nose was seriously running. Luckily you can have as much water as you want. It was still good, though. Typical staples of Ramen that I’ve seen besides the noodles and broth are pieces of meat, egg, seaweed, and chives.

The second part of the culture class was a tour of Tokyo. Some of the Americans grumbled that they had already gone to some of the places on the itinerary. They were all new places for me, with the exception of the Imperial Palace. I wasn’t disappointed that we were going there, though, because having a local guide with you makes it a completely different experience.

We met at Shinjuku Gyoenmae station and took the Marunouchi over to Kokkai-Gijidoumae. As we left the subway, Stephen mentioned that this was the one of the stations that was affected by the 1995 Sarin Gas attacks. Mr. Yagino later took some time explaining what occurred there. Even if they are bad things, knowing some of the history about the places you pass from day to day makes it so much more rich. It gives the place itself some character, as if it’s somehow more than just a place. Another example of this is when I revisited the documentary of Akira Kurosawa and heard him casually mention that it was at Shin-Okubu station that he last saw his brother alive beore he comitted suicide. Shin-Okubo station is about 10 minutes away from where I live. It’s within view of the fruit shop I bought the grapes at. Granted, a director last seeing his brother alive at a certain place is hardly a reason to put that place on the map, but things like that provide a connection between the Tokyo of today and the Tokyo of the last few hundred years. After being destroyed two times in the last hundred years, these links to the past become more and more rare.

From the Imperial Palace, we stopped for drinks at a statue where I decided to take some pictures. I got a pretty good one of Tall Stephen that emphasizes his tallness. Mr. Yagino thinks he looks like Barack Obama. Tall Stephen is from London, and a way nice dude. He’s one of the students in a homestay, and he says he likes it. Let me contrast that with a number of other people who have talked about homestay. For the most part, I’ve heard negative things about it. Some students say the homestay parents have to know where the student is going every time they leave the house, and then insist on doing everything in their power to make sure they know exactly how to get there and then worry the entire time the student is gone. I would definitely get sick of that very fast. Peter was saying that it was a good thing I didn’t get into a homestay, because after you get some friends that you can do stuff with, they just become a burden. I think part of that is he thinks it would affect how much I can come into work.

Despite this, I’m still hoping to get placed in a homestay for the second semester, if for no other reason than that it would be a fun, unique experience. And a lot of the negative first-hand comments I’ve heard were from people who could find something to complain about no matter what situation they were in. I’m having fun in the dorm and enjoying the freedom to go whenever wherever, but when the list of places I haven’t gone yet starts to get smaller, my priorities might shift. It’s tough to make decisions that will affect your future, as 90% of college students will tell you.

Next we walked to Ginza. Ginza known as the highest end shopping district in Tokyo. This is where you would find all that high-end fashion (the world’s most wasteful industry) that women covet. A lot of department stores. We went into one department store that had a basement with a huge food selection. It was mostly desserts, and pretty much anybody could find something to buy down there. Across the street was the second Apple store in Tokyo. I went in, but it was basically the same as the one in Shibuya, except the Ginza one had an elevator.

One cool place we went was the Sony building. While Sony as a company is further on my bad side than my good side, it was a pretty interesting building. On the outside, there was a nifty aquarium. Everybody was taking pictures of the fish, but I thought it was more interesting to go around the back and take pictures of the people watching the fish. That’s something I’ve noticed about my picture selection that’s perhaps a little unique. When I’m going to a popular tourist spot, I’m usually faced with a crowd of people. In those situations, it usually makes a much better picture (and story) to try and capture that frantic crowdedness of the location itself instead of trying to crop out all the people and create a fake memory of a place or item that’s been photographed a thousand times before. I tried that with the Mona Lisa at the Louvre and I’ve been trying it every chance I could get over here.

Left to right: Michelle, Terri, Leah, Stephen

I got a shot of some of the Americans sitting in the lobby of the Sony building. I don’t dislike any of them at all (except for one), and they’re all perfectly nice people on their own. Something about Americans though, when they get in a group they lose all their inhibitions and act like they’re in their own little world. Saturday was better than the past, though. Perhaps everyone is getting accustomed to the culture and each had their own “oh wow, I’m acting really obnoxious” moments privately. I should add that none of the people in the picture above are problem people.

We saw the Kabuki Theater (as opposed to the National Theater where we saw the Kabuki play). It costs 12,000 yen to see a performance, although it’s apparently “really cool.” I’m going to take their word on that one. Our last destination was Tsukiji fish market. We walked through the Shinto shrine in the middle of the district and Mr. Yagino showed us the ritual that nearly every merchant goes through before they start working at 3 am (clap twice, bow twice, clap once. We actually did a video about this for JapanesePod a while back). The fish market itself was mostly empty, since major activity finishes before 6 am. We essentially walked through a very large, dank area, past countless preparation areas and merchant stalls. We popped out the other end and arrived at Tokyo Bay.

Left to right: Trisna, Tall Stephen, Mr. Yagino, Stephen

The tour ended at a large Buddhist temple. I started to feel tired at that time, but there was one other major thing left in the day. July 25th was the day of the largest fireworks display in Tokyo. I was heading to Asakusa to see the Sumida river fireworks. In the subway station, I found out that Trisna was going as well, so we went together.

I don’t know why I didn’t see it coming, but as our subway got closer and closer to Asakasa, the car got increasingly and unsettlingly full. By the second to last stop, attendants were packing them in (they literally do this). We miraculously secured a seat because so many intelligent people saw it fit to leave the train before the last stop and walk to Asakusa, but it didn’t make it much more comfortable. The subway station was predictably even worse. I had to go to the fare adjustment machine, and there was a line 10 people long. I couldn’t even get in line because of the constant flow of people. After being in the subway station about 30 minutes longer than I cared to be, we escaped into the outdoors.

Asakusa, which had been a nice, out of the way tourist destination not two weeks earlier, looked like Shinjuku during rush hour. There were people everywhere. Everywhere. Before I left the dorm in the morning, I was reading some stuff on the internet about the Sumida river fireworks. They said that it’s difficult to find a place to see them. If you’re like me, you read that and think… “Okay, wait, don’t fireworks occur really high in the sky? How is there no place to see the sky?” I don’t know how it managed, but there was somehow no place to see the sky that wasn’t packed. Trisna seemed more optimistic than I was about our chances to find a good place and kept pushing closer. We walked up a pathway and slowly worked our way through it, but then the pathway just stopped. It was a good thing we could see the sky from where we were at, because this was where we would be standing for the next hour whether we liked it or not. I’m a pretty tall guy, so it was okay, but I felt really bad for Trisna, who had to crane her neck at an odd angle and was below the “head line.” By this time it was getting pretty dark, but here’s a digitally brightend picture I took of the area around where we stood.

As for the fireworks itself, it was pretty great. The crowd oohed and ahhed obediently and even applauded occasionally. I’m not familiar with that, but it was pretty fun to see a crowd react like that. I intended to take some bulb mode photos like I did last year for 4th of July, but I couldn’t set up a very steady tripod on someone’s head. I’ll try again during another firework’s festival.

Being a festival, there were all the typical Japanese festival food — in other words, the best food ever. I always get kakigori (shaved ice), but there was everything imaginable. We got a vaguely omelet-like food, and Trisna bought a “candy” that was pickled fruit suspended in the world’s most sticky, clear, sweet substance. Two hours later, I still had pieces of it stuck to my teeth. Being a festival, a lot of people were wearing yukata. It really had a festival feel to it, and if there were a few less people, it would have been pretty relaxing. I also found Ramune! Although they’re pretty common around Asakusa.

By the end of the fireworks, I had lost pretty much all my energy and willpower. We shuffled along with millions of like-minded people toward the subway station. Hey guess what, the nearest subway station was more full than Rush Limbaugh’s medicine cabinet. The police were saying over loudspeakers, “how about going to [second nearest subway station]?” It wasn’t like we had a choice. It took a full half-hour before we got to the station. From there, it was nice to finally break away from the crowd. I never thought I would be so happy to see Nishi-Waseda station when I finally got off the subway around 10:15.

What followed was me briefly toying with the idea of blogging about the day (ha!) and then falling asleep faster than a dead man.

I was kind of looking forward to Sunday being a do-absolutely-nothing day, but Trisna invited me to go to Akihabara and it seemed like a good idea. I was particularly drawn to the fact that we weren’t meeting until noon. I walked to Shinjuku station (the real one — the busiest train station in the world) and took the Chuo line to Akihabara. I arrived at the meeting place at exactly 12:00 (what a slick rick). Unfortunately everyone else was at least 20 minutes late.

When we finally met up with everyone, I was slightly disappointed. Remember when I said that I didn’t dislike any of the Americans except for one person. Well, that person showed up and constituted 25% of our group. Ug.

For those who don’t know, Akihabara is known as the electronic center of Japan. To put it another way, it’s nerd paradise. Okay, imagine a dude who is way into anime, video games, electronics, and knows what “fanfiction” is. Now multiply that guy by three. Now give him a pencil and paper and say “design your dream city.” The result would give you an idea of what Akihabara is like.

Just exiting the station, you’re slapped in the face by bright signs advertising dvds, computers, computer parts, video games, manga, toys… I went into a 4-story electronics store that made Best Buy look like the magazine rack by the checkout counter at Albertsons. With the other three people, I mostly followed them, because I admit that my interest in this sort of thing has waned ever since high school. We wound up in a building that dealt in otaku goods. There were things there that even your average anime nerd in America would consider as too fanatic. As we climbed higher and higher floors, the merchandise started to look more and more like something you would find decorating an insane person’s room. The group (with the exception of Trisna who was pretty level headed on things like this) thought everything was ultra sweet, while I started to actually get nauseous.

After this, guy-I-don’t-like thought it would be a really cool idea to go to a Maid Cafe.
Guy: Are you going to go in, too?
Me: No.
Guy: Why not?
Me: …because it sounds awful.

Trisna and I waited outside at a nearby DVD store (Ponyo for only 3,950! Still too much), and eventually had to go check on them because they were 10 minutes late. Just from what I saw from the elevator area, I knew I was right in not going. There was GIDL, standing against a wall with one of several girls dressed in a maid costume. She was doing this pose with him where they put their hands together and made a heart shape as another maid took a Polaroid. It was a good thing I skipped lunch or else I would have lost it. I didn’t tease him at all. I’m sure those otaku get their fair share of teasing throughout their life. And after all, he had come so far to get to Akihabara, where even the most disgusting people can be king for a day.

I left after that, not particularly caring if my lack of commitment to “the group” sent a message that I wasn’t enjoying myself. After all, I had a test on Monday and Tuesday to study for, and my legs were still hurting from the previous day. I don’t know if I will ever return to Akihabara. I’ll be fine if I don’t. For me, Akihabara represents everything that I assume people think of when I mention Japan in America. I’m constantly warding off questions like “oh, are you really into anime?” Perhaps my reaction to this place is something of overcompensation from years of that question. Still, I get little to no joy from that place, which is so fake and surreal. A temple built to escapism. As a novelty, it may be good for a laugh. Just to see one facets of Japanese society which is as valid as the rest of them. For me, it’s too easy to see it as a sad reminder of thousands of little boys who surround themselves with fake amusements in substitution for real relationships. To some, Akihabara may be the only source of warm feelings left. I can only linger so long in that place before it starts to become depressing.

On the train ride back, I suspiciously eyed a pool of liquid on the ground, trying not to think of Sarin. I was surprised to hear something you don’t typically hear on a train in Japan — a voice. “Hanashitemo ii desu ka?”

It was a women I would guess to be in her early 30s. She wore a hat. It turned out that she wanted to talk in English a bit. She worked at a travel agent and did a lot of dealing with American customers. Her English was good, but her voice was very quiet. She said she didn’t get much chance to practice conversation. We talked about school, and work, and what I was doing here. She asked my age and then told me to guess her age. I took the safe strategy of guessing what the age actually is and then subtracting 4 years. I guessed 26. She said 42. I was surprised. Then we got to Shinjuku. It went much faster this time. She said “nice to meet you” and gave a very weak handshake. I said goodbye and turned away. Before I reached the stairs, I turned back, but she was gone. Lost in a crowd of busy and serious looking people.

Mr. Yagino says that Japanese people all just look serious on the outside. “It’s because the boss is always watching!” he says. “After 5 o’clock, they are really nice people!” It’s really an issue of public vs. private. Every Japanese person I’ve talked to personally has been really nice. Nearly every Japanese person I’ve seen walking on the street looks serious and unapproachable. Meeting that woman on the train was a reminder that there still is plenty of humanity left in Japan, though the Japanese work hard to keep it well hidden.