tuesday, tokyo (skip to the photos if you're busy)

So us three are sitting on the Nozomi No. 27 express shinkansen (bullet train) just about to leave Tokyo station, bound for Hiroshima. I am not keen to go there, given my strict rule of avoiding any potential emotional trauma in life whenever possible, but NJ is keen (Huey pointed out last night that I can't have it my way all the time, which I tend to forget if not reminded). Anyway, I'm sure it will be an experience and I am going there with an open mind. The train is taking off, it feels pretty fast, but we are yet to reach the speeds of 350km/h which I think is what it gets to. There is even wireless internet on this train, I am just waiting for the ticket guy so I can get the password to log in.

I had a quick look at this blog this morning and I realised that there were lots of photos of us being silly but not that many of Toyko itself. So as we say sayonara to the mania for five days or so down south, I'll leave you with some images of the places we have been so you can get a feel for toyko. I have calmed down enough about the spending to be able to tell you that on our first day I bought a 12" iBook G4 Mac laptop, which is already my new best friend. I love you, little guy. NJ and I also bought the same digital camera, which is the newest version of the model Huey has, a Canon 530, which my sister, Trace, also has. It's a good camera and we paid about $250 for them, which is really good for the quality and its size (5 megapixels). I also bought a hundred bucks worth of Polaroid film, which is an extravagance but I love my Polaroid so much and I've already put it to good use. (Film costs $20 for 10 shots in Sydney, so really, I'm saving money in the long run, right?)

We've been here for a week so far and every day has been full, full, full. I have been waking between six and seven and walking around, emailing you guys and waiting for the boys to wake up. I can' t remember what I last wrote but I think it was a few days ago... what day is it? Thursday... ah, so, Tuesday morning I asked James if it was okay for me to cut my hair on his balcony (22nd floor) and he said I know a great place and I need a haircut... 'Let's go now' (James says that a lot). So we got on our bikes and pedalled down to Ginza again, which takes six minutes. This barbershop turned out to be a distant cousin of the Soup Nazi.

You cannot pay the barbers directly. There is a machine inside the door which only accepts 1000 yen notes and 50 yen coins and you have to have the exact change or it's no deal. The machine gives you a little ticket and you then sit on their little bench and wait for one of the two barbers to signal to you. I indicated to my lady barber how much I would like off and she set to work, at speed. About halfway through I realised I was getting the standard Japanese boy bowlcut so I tried to save myself by indicating I would like a reverse flying V fringe, to which lady barber replied, hai, hai, kono, kono, and I thanked her profusely and I ended up with a young Japanese boy bowlcut. The boys now call me Yoshi, which I don't mind too much because it is my favourite Japanese boys' name. The coolest thing about the haircut was the fact that they vacuum your head and face afterwards, from this long hose coming from the ceiling. It felt nice.

The train is going really fast now and I have discovered that wireless only works at the stations. No mind.

Later that day me and the boys caught a couple of trains to Shibuya, which is a teenagers district and good for clothes shopping (we were supposed to go to Harajuka, which was the next stop but I got antsy and we got off). Shibuya was a bit tough for me. I hate shopping at the best of times and I was hungry and tired and ended up throwing my first tantrum (first proper one, anyway). The boys wisely set off on their own and I wandered around trying to converse with shopkeepers, without much luck. It was a blow to my cockiness re: language skills because although I know about twenty phrases, I soon learned that that is of little use to you if you can't understand one word of the response. I need some new jeans as I shredded my only pair on the bike chain, but that experience was a little depressing also because the biggest size anyone seemed to have was a 30. Damn those cute little Japanese chicks who look good in everything. I gave up and wandered around listening to my iPod till it was time to meet the boys again, by which time I had chillaxed and was ready to play again.

When we got back I had to teach an English lesson to three nine-year-old Japanese kids called Arisa, Arisa and Kenji (yes, there were two Arisa's, which made life easy). Apparently they were the cheekiest class that James teaches, but they were okay, except for Kenji, who was pretty naughty so I pulled the nasty school teacher and made an example of him, made him sing alone with me, etc. Heaven help the kids if I ever become a teacher; I lasted about 10 minutes before cracking it. The thing that struck me the most about the lesson was how tired they all were, it was 6.45pm by this stage and Arisa No. 2 and Kenji yawned the whole way through. (I made them cover their mouths, too). But it seems to be the norm for kids to be as busy as the adults are here, which is damn busy. You get on a train any time of day and everyone is asleep and after five days in Tokyo, I realise why.

THEN ... yes, this is still Tuesday... We caught a train back to Ginza and met James, who took us to the club where he plays piano four nights a week (he's filling in for someone), called the Crest Club. It was tres swanky so we dressed up (the boys wore ties and I wore lipstick) and we met all James's colleagues who made a big fuss of us and we used our best Japanese and it was smiles all round. They insisted we drink Australian sparkling wine, which we didn't really want to, but hey, everything else cost a fortune so we caved in to pressure. They bought us out a purple case and asked us to open it, and inside was nine little squares each filled with something delicious but which we couldn't see at first for all the dry ice (gas) coming out of it. It was pretty spectacular.

James is a really good jazz pianist, although he says he doesn't practice much. He was using his iPod for backing tracks, which we loaded up that day with all the songs on NJ's iPod, so every now and again Pete Murray or something would bust through in the middle of a song. James was hilarious as a showman (to us), he was muttering under his breath all the time and making little jokes that only us gaijin (foreigners) would get. His first set finished and he came to sit with us and a waiter came rushing up asking, "Would we like to see a magic show?" Magic? Sure. He booked us in and fifteen minutes later we were sitting in front of the desk of Tagashi Arimoto (sp?), who then gave us... you guessed it, a magic show. We picked up a few mistakes but it was on the whole very entertaining, as far as magic goes (I am not a huge fan). He asked us if there were many magicians in Sydney and I said, "There are not nearly enough magicians in Sydney", which is the truth for fans of magic back home.

James second set was gorgeous, he sung in a bit of a spoken-word, Johnny Cash kinda way, and played 'Here Comes The Sun', followed by one of our requests (we sent him a page via a waiter, which included, 'Hey You, Get Into My Car' and our original composition, 'Supa Wa Doko Des Ka' (Where is the Supermarket). He played 'The Way You Look Tonight' and improvised some lyrics along the lines of, "My beautiful family, I love you, don't even lose your endless charm". Yes, teary. It was a good night.

I still can't believe we are going to Hiroshima. I'm planning on putting up a map of Japan on this blog, so you will be able to track us. We aren't going north to the cherry blossoms till the last week of our trip here now, cause spring is running late up north and the cherry blossoms aren't out yet. Strangely, the wet season, which is normally in June, has come early down south, so it's drizzly... but still warm so we don't mind. Huey loves the rain.

I will post this when we get to the next station if someone gives me the password, but I'll sign off on this now 'cause it's already way way way too long... hope you likey the photos. i think i might miss working a bit. i know...

xE

PHOTIES
1. the barber nazi (a la seinfeld, no disrespect...)
2. james getting his head vacuumed post cut. now that's service...
3. city at night... about a fifth of the view from NJ's apartment
4. designated smoking area, outdoors. although you can smoke on trains, in hotels and restaurants. go figure.
5. shibuya... clothes shopping... grr