A Friendlier Tokyo

Over the past month, Camille has been visiting me here in Tokyo. The pictures that I've just added are from our long weekend vacation on the Izu peninsula. Amazing. In many ways, Camille is more at home in Tokyo than I am, so it was awesome being here with her. Now, I'm moving on to the final elements of the field research (I hope) and making decent progress. Yesterday and this morning were quite exciting and deserve, in my opinion, a spot on the blog. Camille left and I returned to my very solitary existence in Tokyo, or so I thought...

On a rainy rugby pitch during the Tokyo Cup (we're in the semi-finals now!!!) a few weeks ago, I looked across the scrum and noticed a pair of legs that seemed strikingly familiar, and then the same look of constant confusion that confirmed it for me. I was looking at a teammate from Kyushu University's rugby team (in Fukuoka), who was playing for our opponents (the losing team). I hadn't seen/heard from any of those fellas in 8 years, but I knew it was Toyama right away. We decided to have dinner (Nabe; one of the foods that I love the most but oddly enough eat the least of in Japan: it's boiling water and a few kinds of seasoning into which you add, at your own pace, various vegetables and thin slices of meat. there are many varieties of nabe, but yesterday we chose to have a dipping sauce made from pork bones. outsanding. If you're even in Omori, go to Nabezo and you won't regret it) last night in Shinagawa and then moved on to Omori. During our chat, Toyama called almost half of my teammates from Kyushu Univ, said calmly "Nothing much is up. Just sitting here with Garrett drinking in Tokyo" and waited for the person on the line to sound surprised. It was pretty funny, but just sitting in front of Toyama with all his quirks was pretty funny too. The night evolved into a longer night and he took me to a ""Sunaku" or a Hostess Bar. The highlights of the hostess bar include the Mama, a hostess, Toyama and I singing the Let It Be and Imagine. We did so well that I got a free drink! But somehow, just somehow, I suspect that the gift was just a way to make me want to stay longer. So we did. Another highligh: listening to Toyama, now glowing a beautiful bright red, explain to our hostess how "F@#&ing terrible" (heta-kuso) my Japanese was back then. After about 15 minutes of ridicule, he added "But now you're way better. Who'd have thought". Our night ended with an invitation from the Mama to go be part of a 24 hours Run-a-thon (I know, who is she kidding?) to raise money for something tragic (Myanmar or China?). As you can guess from that last part, the Hostess Bar was a far cry from the sexy and glamorous image, mostly perpetuated by non-Japanese, of a place where the male customer is a treated like a pasha in the "champagne room".

With one of the biggest hangovers I've ever had, I work up this morning and went to the National Diet Library to photo copy 19th and 20th century maps of Tokyo. But I couldn't go before I had some ramen in me. So I went to my favorite ramen shop, Hakata Tenjin, where (as the name implies for those of you who know Japan) they make Fukuoka-style ramen (the ton-kotsu or pork-bone based broth is what gives it that savoriness; perhaps you're beginning to see a pattern...) As I politely slurped down my second bowl (which I get for free! I know. A little piece of heaven), I thought "how funny" because this was Toyama's favorite ramen shop in Tokyo too. I also thought how nice it was to have, after spending a year with a lot of socializing and not a lot of talking, friends. Many of you who read this are in that category and I'm glad to be able to put Toyama (and a couple of guys from the team who I'll see down in Kyoto) back in there with you all.

In my haze this morning at Shimbashi, I stumbled onto some sort of firefighter training ritual. Lots of shouting and running in circles and pushing the antique, polished water pump (on 2 big wheels). There were children playing in the park, old men smoking cigarettes and reading, various passers-by feeding the 3 feral cats that live in that little space (Sakurada Park), me, and then this very elaborate event to which no one paid much attention. I was reminded that my favorite maps of Tokyo are the detailed maps from the Edo period (1603-1868) that divide the entire city up into fire districts. But things have changed a bit from those days and among the firemen were a couple of women who were shouting out orders and running the show. With people like that around, I feel pretty safe here in Tokyo.