Butterfly Exhibit with Mom & Mikey
Went to the butterfly exhibit with Mikey and Mom!
THE DAY IN A NUTSHELL:USA: November 12, 2003: Wednesday Japan: November 13, 2003: Thursday
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My mom hadn’t had kaitenzushi yet and Patricia desperately wanted her to try it, so we ducked into a place. My mother liked this too, and I got to try a “begetarian” roll that unfortunately had some cucumber in it that I didn’t like. We got a little snack (and my mother got a Coke), and then it was off to Asakusa.
Cultural Note: Okonomiyaki is kind |
On the way back, my mom’s foot was pretty bad so we sat in the disabled seating so that she would be guaranteed a seat. (Actually, Patricia and I held the rings in front of the seats.) Two elderly ladies started talking about us in Japanese, wondering if we were students and sisters and commenting on my amazing blonde hair. My sister just interjected, “Do you have a question about us?” and of course they were shocked that she understood them. “We heard you speaking so fluently in English,” one said, “and assumed you wouldn’t understand what we were saying.” Heh.
Then my mom got to meet Michelle, at the izakaya. She really liked that place, and willingly ate a bunch of good stuff. I ordered some fries, having missed my potatoes during my stay in Japan. (They’re very non-cheese, non-potatoes-eating people for the most part, unless you go to the fast food restaurants where they’re trying to be American.) I had a Kahlua ice cream thing instead of the green drink (though my sister and Michelle ordered their “Sexy” and “Recharge” again). I have determined that I should not drink alcohol. I fell asleep on the table again.
Our transfer in Chicago and ride back to Tampa were uneventful (though tiring and annoying, we had to go through customs). We arrived back in one piece, and were grateful to get back to the house, unpack, and do laundry. I didn’t go to sleep for a long time because of all the sleep I had on the plane, but eventually I did go to bed.
I think my favorite things about the visit, besides seeing my sister, were the great food at the soba shop and the sushi place, and the Japanese karaoke. I also loved shopping in Tokyo. My least favorite part was having to ride the train so much, especially when I had no seat and was tired, and having to lug a heavy backpack when my back hurt (sometimes my mother ended up rescuing me from it), and the really awful cold and rainy weather. But I am so glad I got to see where and how my sister was living, and finally got to leave the country I’ve lived in all my life, even if it was just for a little while.
THE DAY IN A NUTSHELL:USA: November 11, 2003: Tuesday Japan: November 12, 2003: Wednesday
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Cultural Note: The children wear uniforms, |
Cultural Note: In Japan, birth order is |
Some questions (and their answers, if they’re amusing):
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Cultural Note: “Natto” is a type of |
Cultural Note: Japanese schools eat their |
Cultural Note: Relationships between the |
Cultural Note: Kaitenzushi places |
Off we went to Shiroki-ya, apparently my sister’s favorite izakaya. It’s a Denny’s-ish place that has a picture menu (for us goofy illiterate foreigners), and many dishes are pseudo-American, plus there are many alcoholic drinks. Patricia’s close friend Michelle was there waiting for us, having already ordered a drink whose name was “Sexy.” It was bright pink. It had companion specials on the menu entitled “Recharge” (yellow) and “Fruity” (green). I got “Fruity” and Patricia got “Recharge.” It wasn’t that good but then I’m not an alcohol fan.
I had a good time meeting Michelle and eating potato-cheese mochi (sort of biscuity thing with cheese in the middle), but then due to a combination of exhaustion and alcohol I fell asleep on the table. Whenever they felt like waking me up, I bounced back and we went to karaoke for two and a half hours! It was a more run-down place than the others, but still quite fun, and I enjoyed watching Michelle and Patricia put songs in for each other as well as choosing them for myself. I was definitely ready for bed by the time we got back to her place, though.
THE DAY IN A NUTSHELL:USA: November 10, 2003: Monday Japan: November 11, 2003: Tuesday
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I woke up in the middle of the night because I’d gone to sleep so early, and eventually I got up and took a shower, then did my hair in cute little buns and put on one of the yukata for the heck of it. I was really sad that I’d missed the chance to hang out in the hotel room with my family for a leisurely evening.
After my family got up, my sister showed me the proper way to wear a yukata (depending on if you’re a man or a woman, it’s worn differently) and helped me adjust its length, and we took some cute pictures and had some tea. Then finally we packed our stuff and checked out of the hotel.
We stopped at a convenience store and a few nice shops while we were wandering around looking for the bus station. I got some melon bread but I didn’t eat it yet. Soon we rode the bus to another part of Kamakura, where the big Buddha is, and when we got off I ate my melon bread. That was very exciting to me.
Finally we made it to the attraction of the area: Daibutsu. He was a HUGE Buddha statue that was hollow inside, and you can go in him if you want. We admired him and shopped in the temple shops (which sold Daibutsu merchandise and little safety charms), and looked at the little attractions like the Buddha’s incense thing and his huge shoes. It was awful and rainy outside, but we managed to have fun.
Next on the agenda was the Hase Kannon temple, where the figure of honor is Kannon, the Bodhisattva of Infinite Mercy. We got to see her and the huge garden of tiny statues called jizo. Those little statues stand for the patron saint of departed children, and if you want to honor a dead child you can go there and put clothes on one of the statues. It’s sad and touching to look at the statues.
There were several other attractions at the Kannon Temple. One was a system of grottos where you could light candles or burn incense toward certain statues for certain results or buy a tiny statue and write your wish on it to leave in the cave. (The grotto was dedicated to Benzaiten, a goddess of beauty and wealth.) Then there was a big wooden holder of some Buddhist scriptures, and you can push it around in one rotation to get wisdom. And of course there was the statue of Kannon herself. We looked at that as well.
There was a cool wall of places to hang wooden plaques with wishes and prayers on them (you could buy a plaque for 500•), and we read some of the other people’s wishes. (Patricia said that she’d once seen one that said, “I wish for my cat to not be constipated.” My mom joked that she would buy one and write on it, “I wish for my 500 • back.”)
We saw a cool graveyard and some nice swimmy fish on some temple grounds, and finally we decided it was lunchtime. We got on the bus again, made it back to the train station, and ate at a cool noodle restaurant near there. I had udon this time, while my mom had tempura. We stayed there way too long, then decided to go on to our next destination: Shibuya.
We went shopping around in Shibuya, including a store called 109. (A mannequin somewhere looked just like me, as you see above.) We saw some cool electronics and whatnot, and then everything started closing so we decided it was time to check out the ramen shop. As an extra bonus, Patricia’s boyfriend was able to take a break from work to come see us, so he met us at the shop too.
Cultural Note: Ramen in a ramen |
We did sticker pictures again, all four of us. They really love those machines.
Well, after that we shopped a little more, saw some hotels and some strangely-dressed people, and I saw a Japanese bookstore, including the Japanese kids’ section, which of course interested me because that’s my position in my bookstore at home. I didn’t buy anything, though, because . . . I don’t read Japanese.
We rode the train home and I almost fell asleep standing up, it was exhausting! We could have stopped along the way to see if some place had a DDR game, but I couldn’t have played, so I passed it up. We went home and crashed.
THE DAY IN A NUTSHELL:USA: November 9, 2003: Sunday Japan: November 10, 2003: Monday
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While we rode on the train munching the apple, I did my hair in french braids, and my sister read to us from the guidebook to tell us all about our destination: Kamakura. There are LOTS of shrines and temples there, and it’s pretty far away; Patricia thought it’d be a good opportunity to see all the stuff and also get to stay over in a Japanese hotel.
After some mucking about trying to find the best rates and then trying to find the place, we arrived at our destination: Tsurugaoka Hotel. It was rainy and yucky, so we were glad to take a breather and put down our stuff in our room. The room was great! I kind of wanted to hang out there longer, but we had stuff to see. It had beds, which isn’t “traditional” exactly, but it also had the tatami floors and a futon and a box of the yukata that you could wear around the room. And of course some neat sliding paper doors to enclose the tatami-floored portion, where there was a tea table and some free tea with a water boiler. I even found some very funny phrasing on a packaged razor: “Have a good shaving for your fresh life.” I was excited that we’d be able to enjoy all these things later.
Cultural Note: At a shrine, according |
Cultural Note: The difference between |
THE DAY IN A NUTSHELL:USA: November 8, 2003: Saturday Japan: November 9, 2003: Sunday
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Cultural Note: It’s customary in this |
We met Ogawa-sensei and she was very, very nice, and a couple of times along the way she talked to me in English and I talked to her in Japanese. We stopped at a rest stop, where I got my first exposure to Japanese-style toilets, and everyone but me had a snack. We decided along the way that seeing Mt. Fuji today was impractical because of the weather; we probably wouldn’t even be able to see it well. So we decided to go to Nagano instead. (Well, I say “we” decided because there was a long conversation between Patricia and the Ogawas in Japanese, after which she gave us the short version of what was said and asked, “is that okay?” Communication was not easy.)
Cultural Note: The Japanese pride them- |
We arrived in the city of Nagano, and apparently this area was famous for three things: The Zenkoji Temple, the soba shops, and the GIANT APPLES. Our activities during this day did involve all three of these things. We spent a little bit of time wandering the cute shops that lined the avenue on the way up to the Zenkoji Temple, and we noticed a lot of little kids running around in formal “traditional” dress. It was interesting.
Cultural Note: There is a traditional |
Next on our agenda was the soba. As mentioned, the area was famous for it; soba is a type of buckwheat noodle, and they make it from scratch in many of the shops. We found a shop and argued over what to eat for a while (complicated by my mom’s slight squeamishness of some Asian food, my vegetarianism, and the fact that neither of us could read the menu). My mother ended up getting oyakodon and I got zaru soba. Mine was basically cold noodles with dried seaweed on the top, and I honestly think it was the BEST thing I ate in Japan.
Cultural Note: Oyakodon literally means |
Obviously there are no pictures from this, but my account should be sufficient. When we arrived at the onsen VERY ready for relaxation, we put up our personal things, left Mr. Ogawa on his own because he had to go to the men’s side, and went into the bathing area wearing and bringing nothing but small towels. We had to choose a washing station and scrub down, then we were allowed to get in one of the four available springs. (Your hair and your washcloth are not allowed to touch the water, so if you have long hair like ME you have to put it up!) This bit was frustrating for me because the washing station I chose did not work correctly, and of course since it was my first time using one I thought it was my fault! (When I used one again after the fact, I realized that mine had been very stubborn.)
Cultural Note: A lot of Japanese people |
The onsen we visited is famous for its homemade beer, so it is traditional to sample the local delicacy. I chose not to do so of course (I’m not a beer person), but everyone else had something, there was ice cream and noodles and a bunch of other stuff you could order and eat and drink while sitting around low tables talking. My mom and I kind of zoned out because we didn’t know what the others were talking about really, but there was a neat little conversation between my mother and Ogawa-sensei when they shared photographs and Mrs. Ogawa thought the old pictures of Patricia were fabulously entertaining. (Incidentally, I get the gist of most conversations in Japanese, and know just enough of the language to be annoyed by not being able to glean specifics.) Eventually we decided it was time to leave. The Ogawas refused to let my mother pay for the onsen, also, because they insisted it was Japanese tradition. I’m glad we got them as nice a gift basket as we did.
It was very late and very dark on the car ride back, and most of us slept at some point while Mr. Ogawa drove. (He was really a trooper!) They opted to drive us all the way back since it was raining instead of making us take the train again, and we thanked them profusely and went up to Patricia’s apartment. I hadn’t eaten anything at the onsen because we’d had vague plans to meet up with one of my sister’s friends and go to a place called an izakaya, but my sister decided it would be better to save that for another time. Patricia fixed me a small snack and then we fell asleep.
THE DAY IN A NUTSHELL:USA: November 7, 2003: Friday Japan: November 8, 2003: Saturday
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In the morning I got to take a Japanese-style shower in my sister’s bathroom, and after that she made us french toast (shown above). We ate at her cute little table and got ourselves ready to go out, after arranging with her next-door neighbor to be home to collect our lost bag. Now it was time for our first train ride: To Harajuku, Tokyo.
The trains are a bit complex, at least to the untrained eye. Because no one in our party except my sister can read Japanese, we couldn’t even buy our tickets on our own; it’s all automated through a machine. My sister bought tickets for Harajuku (we still didn’t have any yen), and we fed them into the proper machines and rode the trains. |
Cultural Note: Trains are usually very |
This particular train was very crowded, and we took standing positions holding the rings for the almost hour-long ride. We talked to some little girls who offered us candy, and finally we arrived in Harajuku, where we were to meet my sister’s boyfriend Yuichi outside the Meiji Shrine. (We’d planned to check out the shrine at some point too, but today we didn’t have time.)
We met up with Yuichi and decided to go shopping on Takeshita Street, where I was told people sometimes dress up like video game and anime characters and walk around being weird. We only saw a few people like that–apparently the weirdos come out at night mostly–but we did have fun going to shops. There were some funny names on these stores, like “Snobbery” or “Nudy Boy.” My favorite happens to be the hundred yen store.
A hundred yen is a little less value than a dollar, so I got some cheap souvenirs and the place was five floors high. We were on a strict time schedule because of Yuichi having to go back to work soonish, so we opted to quit shopping and have lunch, which we did at a place called Jonathan’s. It was a bit Denny’s-ish because it had a large variety of food (some of which was not remotely Japanese), and we all had a nice sit-down meal, catching up and chowing down. I had miso soup and some rice. |
Cultural Note: At Japanese restaurants |
Cultural Note: “Purikura” stands for |
Anyway, after all this fun, Yuichi went back to work, and it was time for us to try karaoke.
Karaoke in Japan is good. You get your own room, and there are plenty of English songs to sing (the directory is almost like a phone book!). In this nice establishment, the lights go down and the walls light up when you sing, and also each person gets a drink with their patronage. Much fun was had.
SONGS WE SANG:
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We finished up our karaoke and went to a discount bookstore called “BookOff,” and I bought a used Ranma ½ manga there, for Jeaux to enjoy.
Now my sister wanted us to go see the Tokyo lights, so it was time to go back on the train. We were getting a little tired (being that we also had a really long plane ride the night before), but that time at least we were able to get seats. We arrived in Shinjuku and it was dark.
We went into a place called Tokyu Hands, but we were running out of time and everything was closing. I managed to buy a postcard for my work pals, which incidentally I ended up sending but it arrived several days after I got back to Gainesville, I checked work’s mail and found my own postcard. Wahh. |
Cultural Note: In Japanese stores there |
A game center was also there, and my sister played a claw drop, winning a Doraemon on the first try. She gave it to my mother because it is dressed like a hockey player and my cousins like hockey. Unfortunately there was no Dance Dance Revolution game there. It has apparently gone out of style somewhat. Too bad, I wanted to try it.
We had a rather exhausting ride back on the train, annoyed and depressed about the suitcase (since it contained gifts that we were supposed to give to Patricia’s teacher upon meeting her tomorrow); and now here’s the really bizarre part. When we got back to her house, the luggage was just inside, sitting in the genkan. Despite the fact that all Patricia had on her cell phone was a confused message from the delivery people about her and her neighbor not being home, the luggage was THERE! So we unpacked it and prepared the gift basket for presentation to her teacher and all was well. Weirdly enough, we still don’t know how it got in the apartment.
We went to bed shortly after arriving home, because we were planning to catch an early train and meet with Patricia’s teacher for a full day of fun.