27.5.09

The horse I rode in on

Wednesday 3:39PM - Three days later I’m back on the same train I came in on. It was a very short trip, but I had enough time to get a sense for the culture here and even get mildly comfortable wandering around Akasaka, the neighborhood where I was staying. I’m not sure if I bought a ticket or not, I swiped my PASMO card, the all-purpose magic public transit pass they have here. Hopefully I won’t get kicked off before my stop, the last stop, Narita Airport. OK, the official looking man did ask for a ticket, of which I had none. Had to pay some sort of penalty and go to the poor people’s car. The defeat was tempered by a couple of attractive locals giggling and smiling at me. Everything since then has gone smoothly, turned in my PASMO card, and exchanged my Yen for Hong Kong Dollars. I had over $20 US in change. Check in was a breeze and I passed through security without any hiccups. Did I mention my flight was delayed 2 hours? I don’t really mind having the extra time to write and relax with my gate just a few seconds away.

The past three days rushed by, thankfully my not sleeping the night before flying over technique got me on a pretty good schedule. Sunday afternoon I made my way from the train station to a bookstore where Brandon met me a few minutes later. We headed back the way I came and hopped on a subway to Akasaka, and made our way to Brandon’s apartment. He place was small, but nicely appointed with a variety of futuristic features, like an entire control panel dedicated to controlling the air and water temperature in the small space containing the shower and bath. It was full of witty comments like “The water will begin flowing now” right before the water began flowing. I took one of those awesome, post traveling, showers where clean feels better than usual, and we headed out for dinner. Sushi seemed like an easy choice, and we caught up over cold beers and sashimi. We strolled around Brandon’s neighborhood a bit longer after dinner, and I attempted to get my bearing for the next day.

By 10pm I could barely keep my head up, we set up my very Japanese seeming floor mat / bed and I tapped out. The mat was just thick enough to feel snuggly, but it’s defining characteristic was the hardness of the floor beneath it. Luckily for me, I love sleeping on hard surfaces. I used to nap on the bath mat while the shower warmed up early mornings before school. Delicious. I woke early to more sun than I expected. The apartment was on the lower level, but a generous walled patio allowed plenty of light to stream in. Brandon dressed from work and soon I was alone in a new city with nothing planned.

First thing I needed to do was get my sim card phone setup, I poked around online and found what seemed like the best bet for getting that done. I wandered my way to the subway and headed for Mejujingumae – another area of the city named for the giant shrine located there. Getting out of the subway, all I saw were shrines of consumerism, including an H&M building that looked a hell of a lot like the New Museum in NY. Throngs of excited shoppers lined up outside, like young baby boomers expecting to see Elvis waving at them. The cell phone store was closed when I got there, so I had an hour to kill. I walked until I found a Starbucks. I’ll confess it: when I’m in another country, Starbucks makes me happy. The familiarity of it I guess, the near guarantee of seeing another westerner working on a laptop. An hour later, frapachinoed out, I made my way to the cell phone store only to find that ‘no, you must buy a new phone, I can help you with that’ – clearly not worth it. Defeated I made my way back to Akasaka. Near Brandon’s I stopped into a little restaurant and ate a delicious bowl of salty oily soba noodles with boiled pork, seaweed, and some mystery veg. I slurped it up, along with a beer and headed home to use the internet; all in all, a good meal for $7. Back at Brandon’s, I found out my meeting (the whole reason for my being here in Tokyo) would be taking place that night at 6pm. With four hours to kill, I took to the patio and did some exercises, feeling even more like a ninja than I normally do when doing pushups and squat thrusts. I followed ninja time up with another satisfying shower. Must have been the talking temperature lady: “The water will begin flowing now.”

I make it to the building where my meeting will take place. 10 floors, none of them labeled with English names. I do what any normal person would do. I get in the elevator and hit every button. I peak out at each floor looking for something familiar. Finally, after a number of embarrassing interactions with confused, bow prone, office workers, I make it to the office and have my secret meeting. Turns out the people I was meeting with were just about as clueless as I was as to why we were meeting. Thankfully, they perceived me to be somewhat important, and there nervousness shone through and through, which I sort of enjoyed. It’s not everyday I get to make a bunch of middle-aged Japanese executives sweat it out.

Ah, the blinds at the airport just opened. Looks like it’s going to be a clear night. More recounting of the trip to come...

24.5.09

NEXT STOP TOKYO

Narrita Express, Car 8, Seat 3D, 3:00PM

Unbelievable that only 20 hours ago I was sitting in the back of a Philly cab, burning a red light onto 676w. The train I was rushing to make wouldn’t make it Philly for another 2 hours, delays caused by something blocking the track. Plan B: return cushy Amtrak ticket and take SEPTA to Trenton, where my father was going to meet me, and drive to Newark Intl. Did I mention I only slept an hour last night, on the couch in fact, my bed occupied by two old friends. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to share a bed with the ladies, but I figured if I went without sleep, my 11am flight would feel more like an 11pm flight, launching me seamlessly into the antipodal time zone I was heading for.

I did my best to not let the stress of possibly missing my flight combined with the lack of sleep (read: patience) ruin the morning. I almost felt like I was being tested, a half blind, confused, (homeless?), man asked me to read from the printed R5 schedule when the next train would be coming. Side note: passing by rice patties right now. I tried to deflect the request by telling him to check the monitors, once his lack of vision was made clear though, I begrudgingly (I’m not sure why) took the 30 seconds to read him the times. I certainly could have been more accommodating. On the platform a college student looking guy came and gave me a sob story about losing his ticket and having to spend the night in the station. The fact he was holding a script with tips like “Keep it simple,” clued me into the fact he must be new to the con circuit. Someone should have written “Don’t hold this script in plain sight of your target”, or maybe it was intentional, I give him a dollar to ease my karma – hopefully the blind man made his train.

A cart full of “AROMATIC TRAIN COFFEE” passes down the aisle. Pushed by what can only be described as the quintessential young Japanese woman performing a boring service job with an unflinchingly earnest and polite presence. The smell of coffee still lingers a few minutes later; the label did not lie.

Upon landing at Narrita, it was made clear that due to the current epidemic, health officers would be boarding the plane to take temperatures and in a general way assess the overall health of our lot. Hazmat suits, masks, goggles, the works. I did my best not to sneeze. After the captain explained we were able to avoid having out temperatures taken one-by-one, because he had vouched for us, explaining to the authorities we were all healthy. Good to know that despite their usual presence as friendly, though disembodied voices, captains of modern aircraft can still spot a plague carrying passenger from 30 aisles away. Talk about Chiba City flues.

We’re passing by what I assume is a sort of suburbs outside of Tokyo proper. The small, tightly backed homes, sporting subtly eastern architectural features, are strung together with a web of electrical lines, antennae, and satellite dishes. The network looks like a make shift restraint, ensuring no one home can wander off too far.

The couple on the plane was friendly, Yale grads now working in finance, taking a week vacation in Japan. I counted 4 blackberries, 2 iPhones, and 1 dumb phone between them. They slept most of the time, though I think I caught a glimpse of her hands heading for his nether regions. Just goes to show that an Ivy Leauge education, and six figures a year doesn’t cure one of those baser airplane instincts.

We’re approaching Tokyo.