Ben Taylor: Friends

Showing posts with label Friends. Show all posts

Saturday, the third of April, a striking day.

Approximately 12:30 I was had just started pacing around in the kitchen, trying to decide what I would eat for lunch. Right on cue, Blair Thomson called, asking if I was free. "Yes... why?" I responded. "Come to a hanami party!"

"No worries."

My lunch died this day well before its time, and for this, I mourn. I walked to the nearby Shinagawa station, carrying a jacket for myself, as well as one for Blair, as he predicted a cold afternoon, despite the warm ambient temperature at the time of his call. Taking the familiar Yamanote line to Shibuya, I met Blair. Together we jumped the next train to Harajuku, another station along 'my' Yamanote line. 'Jumped' may not be a good word to use there, as the train was incredibly full; a more accurate verb would be 'pushed' or 'shoved.'

Arriving at Harajuku, one thing was immediately apparent; everyone in this city had decided that today was the best day for a hanami party. There was a line simply to start climbing the stairs from the platform, and this line continued throughout the entire train station, and only began to dissipate around 100 metres after the station itself finished. You may consider this 'bad,' but the mass of arrivals had forced the line going onto the platform to be single file, and it moved far slower than the 'exit' line ever could.

Our goal was to meet some friends of Blair's, and some friends of theirs, et cetera. Accordingly, we resolutely marched towards Yoyogi Park, amidst the masses. As we exited the station proper, I heard a strange sound. I shall attempt to describe it to you: "BEN."

This was strange, because we were in the middle of a veritable army of Japanese, sure my hair looks funny, but I did not think I stuck out that much. To exasperate my surprise, I really do not know that many people in this country, so what the heck? Soon enough an answer appeared, a customer of Leafcup, an English communication cafe I worked for, had noticed me. At the time, it was nice, and talking to him was fun, but later on I was even more grateful for this chance encounter.

Together we marched towards Yoyogi Park. As we walked, I was interested to find that Harajuku was the closest station to this park, not the more logical 'Yoyogi station.' Whilst we walked, Hiroshi and his friend invited us to join them at their hanami party, which unfortunately Blair and I had to decline, due to our impending meeting with his associates.

Walking through the park, the sheer number of people shocked me. On both sides of the path we tread, were groups of people seated on blue tarps, eating and enjoying the beautiful day. Nevertheless, this did not even compare with the wall of people marching with us along the path. I remember almost daring myself to jump on top of the nearest person and see if they would help me crowd surf all the way there. I have photos of this event, but until I either get my website working, or decipher a photo blog website, they shall remain displayed only on Facebook. In fact, they are not even on there... yet.

Our march ceased at what appeared to be a toilet block, located close to a pond, approximately the park's centre. Hiroshi greeted some more of his compatriots here, who again offered us a seat at their upcoming celebration. We repeated our, now quite practised, declination speech, but said we would wait with them to see which party would find its remaining members first. Blair attempted to hasten this process with a myriad of phone calls to his friend, attempting to locate their group. Unfortunately, our success was far from assured.

Whilst we waited, there was a group of five or seven Japanese young people, I cannot recall the exact number, practising a dance right there in the middle of the park. I was so impressed, not only that they were quite good, but also they were brave enough to, so shamelessly, practise this dance in such a public place. Whilst I attempted to sneak photos of them, I was informed by my companions that, not only was this common, but that they would be overjoyed to notice their momentary stardom, and would laugh at my surreptitious paparazzi behaviour.

Soon enough Hiroshi and his friends decided to go for quick turn about the 'immediate' vicinity, in a visual search of their remaining companions. I say 'immediate' here, as this seemed to imply quite a decent walk, as we were surrounded on every side by beautiful cherry blossoms, innumerable Japanese people, and blue tarpaulin as far as the eye could see.

Farewelling them for the time being, Blair and I found a seat on the edge of a nearby fountain, deciding to at least sit and have something to drink whilst we waited for his friends. Unfortunately, Softbank, the company with whom we both had mobile phones, allowed very little reception in the area, and we had issues with communication. Pondering our options, Hiroshi and his friends arrived and gave us the answer. They had not found their friends, and accordingly we all waited together on the edge of this fountain, eating a little and drinking a little more.

Soon enough more friends of Hiroshi arrived, one of which had a bag in which was situated the cutest dog I have ever seen. Please see photos.

Time, it seemed, was intent on marching on, and far too soon, division struck our group a decisive blow.

[Continued directly from 'Old Friends, New Country']

Auspiciously, all these themed restaurants were nigh contiguous, so walking to Lockup was not a difficult task. As we ambled through the crowds, my illustrious hosts, Tsubura and Nanami, informed me how this thing would go down. Apparently upon requesting a table, one was literally 'locked up' then escorted to your dining destination. I found this astounding, and exclaimed so, saying something like, "This country is crazy!"

The door to Arabian Rock matched its theme, appearing heavy and made of gold, and likewise, the door to Lockup appeared nothing if not ominous. Upon entering, we found ourselves in a dimly lit room. At this point, if I were solo, my next course of action would have been somewhat obscure; fortunately, my Japanese companions had no hindering language barrier, and promptly turned to a desk on the right to perform the next move. As they did, there was a loud noise and bright flash, followed by a groaning if I remember correctly.

Nanami and Tsububra further buried their heads in whatever it was they were looking at, intent on remaining ignorant of the cause of the recent cacophony. Being the burly Australian that I am, I saw the skeleton emerge from the left of the door and turn its head toward us. I am no doubt incredibly brave, or possibly just slow to react to loud noises in foreign settings, perhaps we shall never know which.

I am not exactly sure what it was that the girls were looking at, but after this, we moved through the next door and into a reception style area, similar to that of the Arabian Rock, but everything was dark and dingy looking. Another Japanese woman greeted us, dressed elaborately as a guard. She inquired regarding the numerical composition of our party, receiving her answer, she bade us sit in a line of waiting seats, and went to into a separate room, I assumed to prepare for our imminent executions and the sale of our organs, or something like that anyway.

Ostensibly, this institution was well prepared for such a circumstance, and our host quickly emerged, bearing manacles and requesting a volunteer, for which task I was encouraged to put my hand up. I suggested that perhaps I was a poor choice for such an assignment, as if there was any questions given in Japanese, it was unlikely that I would be able to understand, and even less likely that I could respond lucidly. Slightly begrudgingly, Tsubura volunteered, and was promptly handcuffed and lead down a dark staircase, Nanami and I followed.

Lining the halls were many grim and gruesome pictures, some of people with half their face missing, others of clowns smiling sadistically. There were no half measures here. Tsubura's captor lead her to a room barred with a heavy jail door, complete with thick bars, here she was released and directed to sit, Nanami and I following suit. Here we inspected the menu, a fascinating exercise.

Arabian Rock had a general food menu, but a fascinating list of themed drinks, each with a suitable name. If ancient Arabia had access to ingredients for different cocktails, I have no doubt they would produce a similar display of shiny and multicoloured offerings. Likewise, at Lockup, the drinks were foreboding in name and countenance.

Included on this menu we discovered a drink named after Frankenstein himself, which Tsubura ordered. Nanami and I opted for non-alcoholic beverages in beakers, mine orange and yellow, hers dark and light green. I forget the names, but yes, you did read correctly, the pictures showed these drinks in beakers, just like science at school. Tsubura's came in a conical flask, there were test tubes of different beverages, including a bear in a test tube about a foot high.

We also ordered something that looked to me like sushi, but was apparently uncooked spring rolls. They were delicious, also included in our visit were some bread sticks with cheese inside, accompanying that was some cream. All fantastic. As we talked and ate, suddenly ALL the lights went out. I capitalise that to differentiate it between this and Arabian Rock. At Arabian Rock, the hallways remained lit, but there was no light here.

In a second some UV lights came on, and a siren sounded, informing us, in Japanese, that some... things... had escaped. Shadowing this announcement was a scream, then another. Mixed with these sounds were several growls and some banging, the rest was an indescribable tumult. Our cell neighboured a stairwell, and soon enough we heard something descending it quickly. No doubt by some malevolent design, the only view from our small dungeon booth was via the barred door, which was our entrance.

The thumping of footsteps got louder.

Abruptly, a large ape-man prowled around the corner, spied us through the cage door, and jumped on it, hooting loudly. Specifically, this creature had the face of an ape, and the body of a man, dressed in a prison outfit. Seemingly discontent with merely hanging off our jail door, which had recently become quite fond to our hearts, our guest tried reaching through the bars to grab me, as I was closest to the door...

Nanami and Tsubura are fantastic, I had a wonderful night with them, and enjoyed going to school with them, but I will not avoid telling the whole truth on their behalf, there was some loud screaming coming from their side of the table. Our primate friend soon left without any physical prize to show for his efforts, but if he accepted payment in shrieking, he went away a rich man.

'Fascinating,' I remember thinking to myself, nonetheless, the pandemonium continued unabated. Evidently, the show was not yet finished. Forthwith, another escapee, this one with a more ghostly mask and a white and black prison uniform, greeted us. He shook on our door, trying to gain entry, yelling the whole time. My cell, however, refused to be the quieter party, and he met with equal wailing, and likewise leaving rich in decibels.

Following this, it appeared that the fugitives moved to a different part of the dungeon, and Tsubura started to bemoan missing the chance to get a photo of one of our previous stalkers. "You may yet get another chance," I suggested, how right I would be. In the mean time, we enjoyed looking at each other in the light of UV, trying to capture our sinister grins on film.

If only our last tormentor had arrived 3 minutes earlier, my previous statement would have seemed even more like prophecy, but arrive he did, and in a more terrifying fashion than our previous sojourners. Not content was he with rattling the cage door and yelling, he was also so direct as to tear open the door and reach in ominously, trying to leave with more than just ringing ears. I did not think the girls could scream louder, but I was wrong.

...

Overall, it was a very enjoyable evening, and even though some members of the group had screamed and recoiled, they both professed the desire to return again for a full meal. We walked back to the train station and said our farewells, remembering how our last guessed had suddenly run off, followed quickly by some other escapees. An announcement had come over then, saying that the bad guys were dead, and all was fine. A guard even went so far as to check on our health.

Good times. Enrapturing place, this country.

This post refers to the 22nd of March, where I joined my friend Taro and two friends of his for lunch in Akihabara.

Leaving Blair's residence in Takanawa, Minato-ku, we made our way to Sengakuji station, which was the start of a small adventure in itself. I am used to taking the yamanote line from Shinagawa station to just about everywhere. I would simply stay on that train until the stop closest to my destination, and then walk, which is much easier for me. The other option is of course what we did on this day.

As we descended the stairs to the station, Taro suddenly turned to me and said, "Hurry," then started to run. As I followed him down the stairs I realised why we were moving with such haste, the train we were hoping to board was at the station. We continued to plummet into the heart of the earth, and rounding the last corner onto the last set of stairs, I looked up quickly to see the train there and the conductor on the platform, finishing the final check. Our pace increased markedly.

...

We made it, and even better, we did not have to fight the doors! I feel it necessary to say this, as many times before and since then I have seen someone perform a similar trick to this, but make the threshold as the doors are closing, sometimes being forced out, other times managing to fight off these mechanical obstacles and make it in. My favourite memory of such is still the time I saw two friends rushing to make the train, one making it on, and the other failing to follow quickly enough and missing the train to quickly closing doors.

If you were not sure, in Tokyo there are several 'lines' that trains use. Yamanote line is the simplest, being merely a wide circuit around the city centre. More complex lines are difficult to describe, but needless to say, if you need to go somewhere in Tokyo, there is a subway or train station very close by. The two main options are Tokyo Metro, and JR, if you are curious about the complexity of it all, the following links are provided for your convenience:

http://www.tokyometro.jp/global/en/index.html
http://www.jreast.co.jp/e/

After some time on the train from Sengakuji, Taro informed it was time for a change. Accordingly, we exited our vehicle at the next station, found a different 'line' and hopped the next train out of there. We were rushing because Taro was supposed to meet someone for lunch, and regrettably, we were behind scheduled time.

Arriving in Akuhabara, apparently the centre for all things technological, we met with Michi, a friend of Taro who shares the same apartment block, Tiger house. We then picked a place to have lunch, fortunately for me it was decided to eat at a nearby pub. I say 'fortunately' not because of any difficulty, but because this pub was fascinating.

Upon entering, the view was as such:

Chandeliers, a disco ball, a world map, and everything else you can imagine.

This the right side of the previous photo.

And the left.

I was simply astounded, by not only the sheer amount of items, but also the fact that almost all of them were from another country. However, the most bewildering thing was still to come. We ate a mix of Western and Japanese foods, from rice to a hot dog. There were beers from all across the world, from countries as diverse as Australia and Belgium. We talked for a bit, our fourth party member showed up, and we talked some more. Upon taking a trip to the bathroom, I saw this...

A cool sign right? The most surprising thing was that it was in the middle of Tokyo.

I hope you have found this interesting and enlightening, I found it such, and therefore felt compelled to share.

I have debated that title for a while, it was either that or 'mediocrity,' and whilst this post is about the more mundane parts of a week, I consider it in no way pedestrian by any standards in comparison to my life only a month ago.

Yesterday, Tuesday the 16th of March, was what one may call an 'average day in Tokyo.' Currently Blair Thomson and his wife Sachiko are away, Blair in New Zealand for 2 weeks, and Sachi staying with her parents for the same length of time. Accordingly, Taro Miyaji (a mutual friend of Blair's as you may recall) is staying here, to keep me company and teach me Japanese.

This story starts at 11:15am. The previous evening another friend of Taro's, Saori, also stayed over, and left at around 9:30am on this Tuesday morning, but that is a completely different story.

I woke up with a start, attempting in vain to look at my watch. After rubbing my eyes I tried again, and realising the time I quickly went to wake Taro, since, as of last night, he was supposed to be leaving for work in 30 minutes. Disoriented, he informed me that he had called work, and was now starting later. Accordingly, I bade him return to sleep, a request he had already started to comply with.

I then went about my average morning ritual of reading my bible, a little exercise and a shower, after which Taro woke. We enjoyed our breakfast at 11:45am this morning, both glad for the extra sleep. After which we set out on our first of 2 missions.

The first was to find a different supermarket. Up until this point, we had been visiting 2 'supermarkets,' both located in Shinagawa train station, and both quite small by Australian metropolitan standards, as many things are in Tokyo. This one was supposed to be slightly larger, and so with vague directions, we journeyed on.

Shinagawa station is about 7 minutes walk from the place I am staying in Takanawa, Minato-ku (an area of Tokyo). Today we walked a different direction, and sure enough, about 8 minutes into our journey we passed another subway station. This is standard across the board in Tokyo, as a Google of Tokyo subway stations will show you plainly. The city is covered in train stations, if you want to go any real distance, most people take the subway. At any time during the day from about 10am to 9pm or even later, most trains you get on will be standing room only, a fascinating experience for someone from the Gold Coast, where trains can only come close to this capacity at peak hour.

We walked on, crossing different roads, where no one jaywalked, no vehicles queued through intersections or ran lights and people drove calmly across the board. Alien for some people, but standard for Japan. Eventually we came to the supermarket, which was the largest I had seen yet. Inside, the aisles were set up similar to an average Australian store, the most interesting part of this shopping experience happened as you made your purchases at the checkout.

In many supermarkets there are 2 people working each checkout point, one 'ringing up' your purchases, the other packing your food into bags. If you have purchased meat, the person packing the bags will offer to pack the meat in ice, so it doesn't go bad on your return journey. In the odd cases where there is only one person working the counter, there will be ice machines provided, free of charge.

Since this supermarket was larger, it also had incentives for people to purchase 2 litre bottles of water: right next to the ice machines there were others provided for your convenience. Some would wash your water bottle whilst others would fill it up again with fresh, pure water. There also were several other machines, the function of which I can only guess at. Apparently, this too is relatively unexceptional.

We walked home via a different route, where people would passing on the side walk would be patient in passing, bike riders would be careful and respectful, and not a child was seen running amok, despite many children from the local school out and about. All very ordinary.

We dropped off our purchases at the apartment and walked off again towards Shinagawa station, on the other side of which was a mobile phone store that we wanted to visit. As we arrived, we picked up a ticket, so that we would be served in order of arrival, and waited patiently. After talking quietly, we were served quickly, and were again on our way. Glancing at my watch I noticed it was 4:30pm, Taro took the train from Shinagawa to his work, though any station would have been fine, and I made my way home.

I cooked a simple dinner of spaghetti. Almost all kitchens use gas for heating, and are quite small by Australian standards, as most things are in Tokyo, space is a premium. I saved some dinner in a second bowl, and used some cling wrap to cover it. Japan is remarkable in that in everything it sets its mind to, the country and its people strive for perfection. This cling wrap was slightly thicker than any I had used in Australia, the cutting edge was a good width and it cut very well.

Doing the dishes with very little bench space was interesting, and the rack on which to dry my dishes was housed in the sink itself, as there was no room anywhere else. I am told this is conventional across Tokyo.

Forgive me if this post was boring for you, but this set of 'insignificant' experiences are, in many ways, so far removed from any in Australia, that I felt it necessary to write about them.