Tokyo - Part 3 - The Comedown

Tokyo raises your blood pressure. There are so many endless possibilities that you always feel as if you are running out of time. By the time I left, I felt like I wanted another week in the city to get to grips with it. When I was 21, I went to Barcelona for a week. It was my first time in what subsequently became my favourite European city. That was the only time I have stayed in a foreign city on holiday for anything more than 3-4 days. It makes such a difference to have a big block of time that you can put aside to see everything and mix in some time idling in cafes. I haven’t seen a fraction of what Tokyo has to offer.

It’s absurd that, after living in Japan for a year and having travelled extensively, I will leave the country sick that there wasn’t time to do all the things I wanted to do. I’m starting to see why people freak out on return to their home lives and end up running away abroad again. It will be very strange to go back to my UK day-job less than a week after finishing my contract in Okayama. To suddenly not have the possibility of visiting Tokyo for the weekend will feel very odd indeed.

So we had one day left in Tokyo. I felt slightly sick on the Sunday morning as I had made the bold decision to mix meishu, sake and beer with karupis and shochu. A schoolboy error. Nonetheless, after stuffing a pastry down my neck I felt a little better and we headed to Akihabara. Akihabara is a sort of playground for all your most childish impulses. Some of them not healthy. We headed to the arcades and quickly tracked down the retro-gaming section, my favourite part. I love the simplicity of some of those older games and their relative cheapness.

My friend and I got slightly addicted to Bomberman and an epic tournament began. It was much like being 14 but with marginally more facial hair and a new range of TV comedy in-jokes. After a while, I started getting quite competitive. We almost had to be dragged away from the machines.

So next was purikura. It was fun to show it to our friends and let them design the photos themselves. It’s novelty Japan, but in a good way. Spending so much time with K’s friends from the UK made me wish that my best mate and his wife from back home had been able to visit Japan whilst we were over here. Unfortunately (well maybe unfortunately isn't the right word) he happened to have a kid not long after I arrived, so he never made it out here and I will always be a bit sad about that. The kid’s pretty cool though-he’s only 9 months old but he likes Idlewild and everything.

We took the slow train back to Okayama and I was excited to get my first ever glimpse of Mt. Fuji, which was shockingly beautiful. It’s sometimes called “Fuji-san” here as mountains are often referred to in this way. That means that the direct translation is Mr. Fuji. As in, “don’t the clouds about Mr. Fuji look beautiful today.” This strange non-translation always makes me smile.

The tiger umbrella was lost. Somewhere on the Japan public transport system someone picked up a bright orange umbrella that makes growling noises at uncontrollable intervals. It was truly a sad day. I used my last 1000 yen note to get a taxi home, safe in the knowledge that I could survive on rice for the rest of the week. I spent almost all this month’s pay-check in Tokyo. It was worth it though.

Tokyo - Part 2 - Is this cool or not cool?

Oh Tokyo, I love you. Osaka and Hiroshima have their charms. Okayama feels like home. Kyoto is patchily beautiful. But Tokyo…I want to live there so much. I want to live there to the extent that I would happily commute to Westminster each day if I had the money. I love big cities and I love the sense of overwhelming possibility and fun that you get from somewhere like Tokyo. It really feels like whatever you want and whatever your interests, you can pursue them there. It felt so good to be surrounded by a real mix of people without the homogeny of styles that you see in Okayama. I like the feel of it, the way people are more relaxed when you go out at night, the little communities, the patches of green space inbetween the ugly boxes and the feel of being in a real city with all its faults and problems.

By Saturday, I really needed some time to explore things at my own pace. I love my friends who I was with, but I was desperate to spend some time being selfish. In that vein, I split off from the group and headed to Shibuya to meet my Internet Friend. I’ve never met up with an Internet Friend in real life, but they quickly became a Real Friend and made me envious at their life working in Tokyo. I got introduced to a cool little café near Shibuya and we ended up heading to Shimokitazawa. It was a great little neighbourhood, which felt a bit East London. Lots of little independent shops, plenty of vintage clothes and records on sale. Also plenty of posers of course, but I was in a good mood and had actually missed posers slightly. Besides, I was wearing the scruffy tie look so I’m slightly culpable of posing a little too, albeit rather ineptly.

It was fun to hang out, drink coffee and talk about the perils of Tokyo nightlife. I was a little sad to leave but felt refreshed and more sociable by the time I caught up with everyone at the Design Festa Gallery in Harajuku. It’s a cool little place, full of oddness and pretty things with a shop that would have stolen all my money if I had had any.

The night started with conveyor belt sushi, progressed to a cheap but crappy gaijin bar, took in a posh high rise look-out spot and ended messily jumping around on the furniture in a karaoke box. We even did Anarchy in the UK for the first time since coming to Japan in a full on Lost In Translation homage. I sort of hate myself for that a bit but it was so much fun.

Tokyo - Part 1 - Adventures In The Rain

Monkeys in the rain.

When I was learning Japanese back in the UK, we used the “Japanese for Busy People” textbook. The book is primarily aimed at business people which meant that, stupidly, I knew how to say “I am a lawyer” before I knew how to say “I’m from England” or “I’m 30 years old”. Anyway, in the style of all classic language text books, there is a chapter about going on vacation, in this case, to Nikko. Ever since reading it, I’ve wanted to go to Nikko. I have a similar wish to visit La Rochelle as described in 5 years of the Encore Tricolore French textbooks at secondary school, but anyway.

Nikko is about 2 hours outside Tokyo and getting there was a big hassle. It was Golden Week, which meant that half the population of Japan was either leaving or arriving in Tokyo. The situation wasn’t helped by torrential rain and signal failures which caused big delays on the trains. By the time we arrived it was late afternoon, pouring with rain and we were irritable with hunger. But we managed to track down some awesome deep fried azuki bun things and jump on a bus to a sightseeing area not far from the centre of town.

We decided to go for a hike. This was what is technically known as a “mistake”. The rain continued at a frightening rate. After about 5 minutes of walking, it became clear that my umbrella was somewhat faulty. Rain trickled down my neck and soaked my arms and legs. Clearly, the T-shirt and suit jacket look was not appropriate today. Still, we continued. Nikko is so green. There’s moss everywhere and the other tourists had (wisely?) stayed away due to the awful weather. We crossed over a terrifyingly strong river and made our way onwards, with a forest to our left and a cute, deserted park on our right. I was squelching by this point-Converse shoes are not built to withstand a puddle, let alone a thunderstorm. But we traipsed on.

(By the way-sorry the photos are such low quality- the iphone pics didn't upload in the correct definition - but hopefully they give the general idea - that we were very wet!)

Hopefully you can make out the torrential rain here.

The further we went, the more it felt like a brilliant act of folly. Yes, we were wet, but man, Nikko is beautiful. Yes, it was probably a mistake but it was also a little adventure and the rain made it more private and satisfying. We cowered under doorways and jumped over huge puddles before eventually making it to a row of monkey statues, all dressed in red bibs, worn down but looking perfect in the rain. Many photos were taken and I continue to be impressed by my friend’s tiger umbrella, pictured here. It even makes growling noises when you press a button (and sometimes by malfunction when you don’t-tiger social faux pas alert!). That umbrella would be an ever present right until the very end of our trip.

The tiger umbrella!

By the time we made it to the hostel we were exhilarated but a little grumpy. The hostel is run by an American guy called Scout who made us feel really welcome. And thank god, for the kotatsu, Japan’s greatest invention of all. My feet were toasty warm within half an hour.

No swimming for us...

My favourite thing about this hostel was that it was located right next to a huge river. We had hoped to go swimming, but as you can see from the photos, the storm had made that impossible. It was cool to sit outside by the water though, having to shout over it as it battered against the rocks. Even better, the men’s shower area overlooked it, so you got to expose yourself to it the following day.

In fact, the following day was mostly spent sitting in onsen and being extremely lazy. Being lazy is one of my favourite things. This was also nice because it meant that K got to spend some quality time with her friend who was visiting as I was starting to feel a bit guilty that they weren’t getting enough time together just the two of them. Maybe this splitting down the ranks by gender is part of the appeal of onsen, like a gentlemen’s club or a hen weekend. One of the guys in the onsen had a huge tattoo covering almost his entire back which no-one seemed to react to in a bad way. Tattoos are generally not welcomed in onsen and those with them are sometimes prohibited. It’s reasonably likely that the guy was yakuza but you can’t exactly ask in that situation. “Excuse me, I can’t help but notice that you have an incredibly intricate tattoo covering your entire back-is that because you are a member of an organised crime organization or do you just like snakes a lot?” Anyway, it was nice to hang out with my mate from back home. We probably should have talked about sport, guns and women. I don’t think we talked about any of those things.  I’m rubbish at being male, I really am.

I loved all the moss in the forest.

Cowering from the rain.

Inbetween Cities

I’m inbetween cities right now. Osaka has been and gone. This time there was no drunkenness or stress and the seediness was happily avoided. Instead, K and I met up with a friend and went on a relaxed wander. In the course of our visit, we saw the aquarium, rambled around a park, found a happily grotty bar and ate terrifying volumes of food. All as it should be.

Osaka is a rough around the edges sort of place and that’s comforting as a Londoner and ex-Manchester resident. Almost immediately after arrival we got talking to a Japanese couple who were in town for a concert, one of whom was sporting a Spiritualized T-shirt. This made me realize that in 9 months of living in Okayama, I have never once seen a Japanese person wearing a T-shirt for a band that I like. I have missed alternative culture a bit (okay-I can see how ridiculous to use “wears a band T-shirt” as some kind of barometer for whatever alternative culture may be, but it sort of makes sense to me.) and it felt good to be surrounded by a greater range of going out options and asymmetrical haircuts. I also like how much more relaxed things are in the city without the risk of being spotted by teachers, parents or, god forbid, students.

Although I head to Tokyo tonight, I realized that I don’t actually have much of a schedule yet. For example, we’re going to visit Nikko and stay nearby-but I don’t actually know very much about Nikko. I feel a bit tourist-blind about it all. We also made the decision to stay in a nice-sounding hotel in the Nikko area, which will be fun-but part of me is like “why aren’t you spending the full 4 days in Tokyo as that’s what you’re interested in?” I also feel like I really need to have some independent time in Tokyo at some point and I’m looking forward to meeting up with friends there and maybe doing some solo exploring too.

Finally, I have become an uncle again. I have an awesome new niece called Martha who I will meet in a few months time. She’s pretty cool, from what I’ve seen so far. It does sometimes feel like my family spawn every 60 seconds, but I’m okay with that.

Japanese Cities - We Can Make This Relationship Work

Well it’s finally Golden Week. This weekend I go to Osaka. Next weekend I go to Tokyo. Maybe these trips show a lack of imagination but I’m really looking forward to getting to know these cities better. Tokyo still feels uncomfortably alienating for me. I just don’t know it well enough to feel at home there. It has that London feeling where there’s so much to do and see that it’s actually overwhelming. In many ways, Tokyo was the reason I came to Japan. Before coming, I had a very child-like view of the Japanese nation. My desire to come originated in being 11 years old and really into video games. At that time, Tokyo just seemed like a giant video games playground. The neon and the electronics were so attractive to my 11 year old self. I remember watching an episode of Bad Influence where Violet visited Tokyo. More than anything else, that episode probably instilled my desire to come here.

Now my view of Japan has changed considerably. I still love Tokyo for all the Bad Influence reasons. There are also grown up reasons for enjoying the big city experience. But I never realized what a beautiful country Japan is. The countryside here is amazing. The most striking thing in Okayama is how green everything is. The hills with mist rising off them, the rice paddies, the amazing range of birds and wildlife that I see every day. Tokyo aside, I perhaps haven’t warmed to Japanese cities as much as I thought I would. If it’s night-time and raining they look beautiful, but they’re generally pretty ugly. Okayama City is great but most cities in Japan feel very similar. Tokyo, on the other hand is still exotic and different enough to make me misty eyed and super-excited at the prospect of a visit. Hurrah.

Osaka, on the other hand. Oh-we don’t get on. We have issues, Osaka and I. I want to resolve this. I want to work it out. I want to get my first ever proper night’s sleep there and think of a sightseeing activity that isn’t just going to the aquarium.  I believe it can happen. I have to believe that. I do love the aquarium though.

I will never wear a puffa (puffer?) jacket. Ever.

No. No. No.

I never thought I would find myself being grateful for Uniqlo. It’s not a brand that I like. The designs are dull. They tend to be a boxy fit, which isn’t good when you’re a tall, slim bloke. And I can’t really get over the way that they have the same item in 50 different colours, even if that item is itself rubbish. 50 different colour puffa jackets are still well, puffa jackets.

 Anyway, in Japan they are my best friend. That’s because most shops don’t sell clothes which will fit me. It’s very frustrating. I’ve been really impressed by the dress sense of guys in Okayama and there are a range of men’s clothing shops which sell some beautiful clothing, expensive though it is. But they don’t cater for anyone over six foot. That means I have to do most of my shopping at international chains, super size stores or online.

 Having to shop in this way really limits your choice. At the moment, I feel like I’m having to wear really dull clothes, just because they’re the only ones available. Today I sported the sports-casual look of Nicky Wire circa-1998. This is not really something to be proud of. It would have been good if I was going to a dance class though.

I had a calm weekend, filled merely with shopping, coffee and windy bike rides. That’s because the next few weeks are going to be rammed with activity and I needed to save money. Golden Week is coming up fast and we’ll be making our second post-orientation trip to Tokyo. I still feel like there’s so much there I haven’t done yet. And our last attempt at a wild night out there was foiled by chemicals and long distance taxi rides. This time it will be different and I’m not leaving Tokyo until I’ve at least danced to two songs in a row that don’t make me want to self-harm. I’d also like to find a karaoke place that has a Belle and Sebastian repertoire large than Funny Little Frog and Little Lou, Ugly Jack. Hell, I know doing B and S at karaoke is a terrible idea, but I’d at least like the option.

I've started calling football "soccer". I know.

Yesterday, I swallowed my pride and re-joined the school’s soccer club. When I first arrived, I would go to soccer practice once a week. My intentions were to get some exercise, score brownie points and bond with the older male students who would rather do pretty much anything other than speak to me. 

It was okay at first. I can be pretty flexible on the one hand, but also slightly lazy on the other. I enjoyed hanging out with the students outside lessons. It was an opportunity to spend time with a teacher at the school who had made an initial effort to be open and friendly towards me, even though he spoke almost no English.

But I dropped out. Here’s why-and it’s a cautionary tale for JETs and other ALTs who try to get involved in extra curricular activities. I should precede this tale by adding that I blame only myself for my failure to stick with the soccer-I’m not trying to shift blame elsewhere. But there are also a range of challenges which, bit by bit, wear down one’s initial enthusiasm. So here goes. 

It started reasonably well. The students made an effort. The students with whom I was working were also students I taught and were pretty much the least enthusiastic English students you could ever find. That was okay. But they didn’t want to stand around chatting in English. Again, that was okay-I felt it was enough just to be there, spending normal time with them. I didn’t feel like I needed to make every session an English class. 

The first thing that annoyed me was the format of the sessions. Every week, all they did was drills. They would never play a match, except on weekends. So every day of the week would start with hugely elaborate warm up exercises. These would last about 20 minutes. They would then spend about 15 minutes practicing keepy uppy type exercises-header, volley, catch etc. This would sometimes be hard to join in if there were even numbers so I would sometimes take a supervisory role rather than an involved one. 

The next 30 minutes would usually involve drilling some kind of move. For example, 3 players would be in a line and would have to pass the ball 3 times in a very specific way, before shooting. This was pretty dull, but I could see there was some benefit. One thing which always amused me was that the goalkeeper would almost always let me score. It’s a bit like letting your boss beat you at squash. I’ve seen this kind of thing before-it’s part of the cultural custom of bigging people up. Anyway, it’s strange to play a sport where you know that people are helping you to look good as far as is possible. 

But there was never a match. Or anything properly competitive. The drill would maybe be followed by twenty minutes practicing pull ups before a long warm down and raking of the pitch. I remember reading somewhere that English footballers dislike training in some European mainland countries because of the strong emphasis on technical improvement and lack of actual playing time. This has been used as a criticism of the English training methods and is one of the possible explanations for the lack of technically gifted youngsters in the UK. 

But it’s a bit dull. Especially if you’re no good at the technical stuff.  A few other things happened. After the initial novelty of my presence wore off, I didn’t feel like the students were getting much out of me being there. We weren’t using much English and we weren’t bonding especially, though they were a good bunch. In addition, I had a couple of misunderstandings with the team coach which made things a little awkward between us. These were entirely caused by the language difference. Then the schedules changed and sessions began to be intermittently cancelled. I would bring my kit in and find that there was no training that day. No one would warn me. Thankfully I never got changed until I knew for sure. This was really irritating though. Finally, the weather turned and sessions became primarily about fitness and cross country runs because the pitch had frozen. There’s no way I could have embarrassed myself in front of them by attempting a long distance run, so that froze me out slightly. In the end, I missed a few sessions, resolved to be more reliable but then eventually dropped out.

A couple of months passed. A new wave of students joined the school. Then, a few days ago, the soccer coach asked me out of the blue if I wanted to come to soccer this week. I saw this mainly as a goodwill gesture on his part. He had gone out of his way to try and make me feel welcome again. I was very grateful for this and said yes immediately. So yesterday, I again joined the team and I’m going to try and be committed until I leave Japan in August. 

That August deadline is looming. Less than seven days after leaving Japan I will be back in the job I was doing just over a year ago. It’s gonna be tricky.