Tuesday, July 31, 2007

Lost in Shinjuku

Simumasen, Keio Plaza Hotel wa doko desu ka?

This is a sentence that can save your life. Figuratively speaking, of course. Then again, it’s not as if I was gonna actually say it. Not until we were really (that’s an English word, italicized for emphasis) lost. You see, even a million miles from home (figurative speaking, of course), men cannot ask for directions. And I wasn’t going to do it despite the torrential rain, the blinded eyes (precipitation + glasses = suck), and general sense of ‘where are we?’ among the group. Anna finally asked at a point when we were caddy-corner from the hotel. That’s always how it is, no?

Let’s rewind for a moment: Eight Americans enter the HUB English Pub in Shinjuku. They attempt to cram into a half booth/half seat section, and they almost succeed. They are asked to move to a different area with more room because, and I’m paraphrasing, “your seating would make it inconvenient for the girl next to you to get up.” Ironically, I love this sentiment. After the Americans move, they order four liters of beer. The beer is either Kirin Lager or the house brew. The Americans do not know. The beer will cost ¥5,400, about $54, and the Americans will try to figure out if this is a good deal or not. The Americans do not succeed. There’s too much metric/standard, yen/dollar conversion involved. Instead, they are wowed by the presentation; the liters arrive in plastic, graduated cylinders. The Americans can see exactly how many mL they are pouring, if they were into that sort of thing. Drinks are poured (never for yourself, as is the custom), and people bond.

Now back to first person: I’m sitting off to the side with Anna and Jason, a guy who spent the last few years in Bolivia in the Peace Corps teaching business practices. He went to teach English, but that somehow turned into business practices. The flat panel TVs first show a Japan vs. Kuwait basketball game. Japan is winning by a lot. Later, the programming will switch to soccer juggling tricks. A man climbs a power line in order to juggle a ball. I love this sentiment.

A red, fruity drink arrives for Caitlin at the next table. We all applaud, thinking it’s from a Japanese man with a crush. Caitlin is a pretty blonde, and we think that this is the type of thing that happens in Tokyo. We are all let down when we later realize it is from another JET. Damn Americans. Wait, I think he was British.

The toilet has two different directions you can flush. There’s “Large” and “Small.” This makes me laugh… while I pee.

We leave the bar around midnight, and we try to find another place to go. We have a tiny map, yet we can’t quite find where we are. There is no star that says ‘you are here.’ We ask a few different people for help, and the reactions are great. Mostly, there’s a lot of pointing at the map and laughing. Then there's pointing in a direction and more laughing. Many people stop to help, but to no avail. There is a white man who offers help in perfect English, and for some reason, we brush him off. This makes me laugh… while I stand in the pouring rain.

Monday, July 30, 2007

Everything in its right place

The ship has landed. After roughly 14 hours and a connection in Minneapolis, I’ve made it to Japan.

I’m currently in my hotel room, and it’s 2:41 AM local time. That means it’s 1:41 PM in my mind and body. I am typing in a dark room. Drew, one of my two roommates, is also typing. He is in the same room, so it is also dark for him. Our other roommate, Cody, is sleeping. About ten minutes ago, Cody said he couldn’t sleep. I have not known Cody for long, but it seems he is a liar.

As I previously posted about a slew of lasts, I will now mention some fabulous firsts.

First album played in Japan while on the bus from Narita Airport to Keio Plaza Hotel in Shinjuku, Tokyo: Radiohead’s Kid A. “Yesterday, I woke up sucking a lemon,” Thom Yorke sang to me. Hey, Thom. You’re right, if you are somehow subtly suggesting that leaving America had a certain sour taste to it. But I’m OK, Thom. Dad was there. The Snows were there. I’ve made it to Japan. I drank 7-UP on the plane.

First meal in Japan: Udon noodles. A small group of Atlantans wandered around the pleasantly small streets near the hotel to find food. There were neon lights and neoner lights. There was severe trepidation in deciding on a spot to eat, which does not bode well for our collective, near futures as teachers. Following the crowd, it turned out, just led to long lines comprised of other future teachers. At last, we found a restaurant with a name I’ll never know, and we ordered by putting money into a vending machine. There are pictures of the food outside each restaurant, and you get a ticket to hand to the cook when you’ve decided what to eat. It felt nice to slide a 1,000 yen (≈10 dollar) bill into the slot, and the machine did not spit the bill out the way it has happened countless times in America. I do not know if this is some marvel of Japanese technology. It’s possible I just had a crisp bill.

First acquaintances: Here’s a quick run-down of the major movers and shakers.

Matt: I sat next to him on the flight from Atlanta to Minneapolis, and the conversation quickly picked up when we discovered a shared interest in indie rock. He's quite a fan of Magnet, so we obviously, inevitably dissected the greatness of NMH’s In The Aeroplane Over The Sea. He went to UNC, and he’s considering starting a Mates of States-esque band with his girlfriend when he returns from Japan. I later saw him in the lobby of the hotel, and he was surrounded by four Japanese women, who all seemed quite taken with him. I decided not to say hi at that point.

Cody: I lied earlier when I said I hadn’t known him for that long. In fact, I knew him intimately for 12 hours straight since we were seated next to each other from Minneapolis to Narita. I liked him immediately after he said he was a light sleeper and could not sleep on airplanes or trains. I, too, have this problem. Between the two of us, we got about 1.5 hours of sleep on the plane.

Anna: I met her way back in June at the Atlanta Q & A session. She speaks Japanese, so she acted as our impromptu tour guide on our quest for food. I felt bad that everyone was relying on her, but she appeared to enjoy being helpful. Anna is a small-town girl from Missoura.

After dinner, a few of us went to a convenience store to buy celebratory beer to bring back to the hotel. It was 8:30 PM local time, meaning we essentially wanted booze at 7:30 AM. Hey, when in Japan. A few girls bought Sapporo, I bought Asahi. The clerk asked if I wanted a bag, but I did not understand him. Fortunately, he gestured by pointing at the bag in question. At this point, even saying simple words such as arigato is awkward, but I am certain that will pass.

There is so much more to say, but I suppose that is always the case.

Friday, July 27, 2007

Paint the town red (army)


In the words of my college roommate and current artisan extraordinaire Jon Levin, "the days are growing shorter."

And what better way to enjoy my last days in the States than to take part in the things we do best here: bathe in our excess.

As a going-away gathering of sorts, last night my high school crew went out to the International House of Pancakes, our old stomping ground. "International" turned out to be merely a misnomer unless, in fact, it was referring to the world of pain I experienced after eating:

1) hash browns with ketchup
2) two pancakes smothered in milky butter and "hot, regular" syrup
3) chicken fried chicken covered in peppered gravy
4) three eggs, scrambled well with a smattering of tabasco
5) two sweet teas

If it ended there, it would still be too much.

We (Farbod, Aaron, Scott, Keith — he's alive!) returned to the home of the first two (Ira had other plans) for another hometown favorite, Risk: The game of world domination.

I'd like to say that I controlled Japan for the majority of the game, but that would be a lie. I employed my typical strategy of bunkering down in Australia, and I held it for a decent amount of time. As it goes with Risk, the power struggle lasted for six hours (from 10 pm-4 am), and the warfare ended as I conceded to Keith after one last stand. Ukraine, it turned out, was not so weak.

Oh, did I mention we got a pepperoni and feta cheese pizza at 2 am? When it rains, it pours.

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

It's now the day-to-day.


As I'm currently on the verge of being employed (quite different from being unemployed), I've been taking a few tips from the main character of Nick Hornby's About A Boy (no doubt, Nick Hornby himself). Namely, I pass the hours of the day by setting up specific goals to accomplish. And by hours of the day, I really mean days of the week.

Monday: the aforementioned omiyage. (From this point on, I will italicize all Japanese words. It looks cool, and I've seen it in reputable sources. I will continue to do this until a) I forget or b) I immerse myself so completely into Japanese culture that I begin to italicize English words.)

I drove up to my old haunt (Gwinnett Place Mall) with my mom, and we made our way to a shop that specializes in delicacies made in the good ol' South. I purchased candied pecans, peach preserves and a fancy tin with a peach logo and "Atlanta, GA" emblazoned on the front. The tin will be filled with jelly beans from Sam Walton's club.

Afterward, we examined the mall directory to locate a store that might specialize in trinkets of the Atlantan variety. No such luck, but we did pick up some keychains and a pewter Georgia spoon from a card shop. One point of interest: the mall directory has gotten a lot less specific from when I last perused one. Instead of letters and numbers to indicate location, there were simply letters. Thus, a rather huge portion of the mall was labeled "E." It took a few awkward left-right-left looks before I knew where to go.

Today: I got a haircut. Seeing as how it is roughly four weeks before I begin teaching, I will certainly need another one in order to make a good impression. It will be a Japanese haircut.

Tomorrow: I will go to the bank. I will begin packing.

Monday, July 23, 2007

A taste of the future?

Last night, I drove out to Athens with my buddy Aaron to visit the Snows. (That's Matt and Cindy Snow, née Lo!) The event: Ka-ra-okay!

We got a private room for the low, low cost of $40/hour (though free to me), and the festivities were grand, to say the least.

Highlights of the night include Mr. Big's "To Be With You," which Cindy sang with adolescent glee, finally hearing Matt sing (he's a dead-ringer for his main man J.B. Jovi), and Aaron's baritonian rendition of the Beach Boys' "Kokomo." Because, after all, that's where we want to go.

I saké bombed (twice) and got the cute, partially-Japanese (?) waitress' phone number. Wait, no I didn't.

If this is a sign of things to come, I welcome the incoming flood.

Saturday, July 21, 2007

But it has my name in it!


It has quickly come to my attention that the title of this blog could easily be read as "Loin Translation." I welcome the misinterpretation, though the content to follow will hopefully dispel the notion.

Yesterday, in a weak attempt to immerse myself in something Japanese, I watched Letters From Iwo Jima. I realized I am not a huge fan of war movies. Pleasantly, I could pick out a few words here and there. SPOILER: To save face, Japanese soldiers committed suicide when the battle was lost. I do not yet know how I feel about this.

I am told that, at the end of my stay in Japan, I will bring back double what I originally brought. I will attempt to pack all that I need into a large suitcase and a backpack carry-on. Let's see how minimal I can be.

Friday, July 20, 2007

ETD: 9 Days

It's almost time.

I'll be departing for Japan a week from Saturday, and there's little left to do:

1. omiyage: The Japanese give gifts. Often. My predecessor recently thanked me for existing because his (soon to be my) classes have been busy preparing gifts for my arrival. I need to do the same. First purchase (thanks to mom) was a batch of Coca-Cola gummy candies.

2. indoor/outdoor shoes: Notice the specific use of backslash over hyphen. Shoes that are worn outside cannot be worn inside. Shoes that are worn inside cannot be worn outside. How ever will I match my outfit?

3. get my cash on: I am somewhat convinced that no one knows anything. I called a branch of my bank to ask how I'd get my hands on some Japanese yen.
"Come in to any branch," the nice man said. "Or, better yet, there's an American Express store across the street."
Whaa? You don't want my business? My own bank? I called another branch closer to my home.
"You should call the 1-800 number," the nice lady said.
"1-800..."
"Wachovia."
See: I know nothing.
"Is that easier than coming in?" I asked.
"Yes, because we'd have to call anyway."
Sigh.