Day 3: Monday, November 24
A mixture of excitement and jet lag kept me from sleeping much Sunday night, so I was up well before our 4:30am alarm on Monday morning. That's right--4:30am. We planned to go to one of the top attractions of Tokyo--the Tsukiji fish market, which gets going in the wee hours--when jet lag would make getting up early a little less painful.
It was our first stint on the Tokyo subway, and though it took a bit of map-scrutinizing and map-turning-upside-downing, we eventually found our way. But at the subway exit at our destination, a sign awaited us: Tsukji fish market was closed. We were floored. "You've got to be kidding," another thwarted tourist said. We learned later that it was a national holiday; too bad we didn't know that before starting out!
Unsure what to do now that we literally had the entire day ahead of us, we headed to Harajuku to see the Meiji shrine, which we knew would be open at that hour. On our way, we stopped and got cans of coffee from a vending maching. Vending machines are everywhere in Tokyo, mostly selling drinks, and small cans of "Georgia" brand coffee are a popular item. It took us a bit of experimentation to figure out what we were actually getting, and I wound up with a nice can of ice-cold coffee before figuring out how to get the hot, but now we know.
It was actually a good bit of luck that we got there so early: the park surrounding the shrine was so peaceful in the morning, with hardly anyone around, and the city was so quiet. We approached the entrance gate and watched as people purified their hands with scoops of water from a pretty trough before bowing and walking inside. Inside the main part of the shrine were piles and piles of vegetables--apparently offerings in honor of the season. The vegetables were displayed in boat-shaped arrangements; some of the vegetables had faces painted or carved onto them.
As we meandered around and snapped pictures, a guard approached us. "American?" he asked. We nodded yes. "Bush, no," he said, shaking his head emphatically. "Bush, no." Then his face brightened. "Obama! Obama-san." He patted his heart. "Like. Obama-san."
On my coat is currently an Obama button--I'd specifically worn it to Japan to see if it got any reaction--and I showed it to the guard. "Ah! Obama-san!" He was so excited that he actually spit a little as he spoke. "Obama-san!" It was a moment of true cross-cultural understanding. Bush, no. Obama-san, yes.
With hours to go until anything opened up, we stopped at a cafe called Chococro for coffee and hot dogs wrapped in croissants (apparently a specialty). Smaltzy Christmas music played as we people-watched and charted a course for the rest of the day.
Our first destination: Kiddyland, a six-story toy store. Saying that Kiddyland was my sole reason for visiting Japan is only a slight exaggeration; for months I'd been anticipating an onslaught of ridiculous cuteness. I anticipated buying piles of adorable plastic toys and more Hello Kitty merchandise than I could carry. Kiddyland did not disappoint. Floor after floor of animals with wide-set eyes and tiny ears; shelves upon shelves of Hello Kitty; tiny mole-like creatures with big noses and tiny feet. But it was truly a Tantalus situation, with prices prohibitively expensive. Sadly, I could reasonably buy only a tiny Hello Kitty charm and a tiny stuffed mole-like creature. But just being surrounded by so much cuteness was an experience in and of itself.
For lunch, we headed to Maisen, a restaurant known for its tonkatsu--breaded, fried pork filets served with a kind of barbeque sauce. As we looked over the menu outside, a waiter standing in the doorway spotted my Obama button. "Ah, Obama!" he said, smiling widely and nodding. Andrew and I felt like the button was the equivalent of entering a place with hands raised--"Don't be alarmed!"--in clear innocence and peace. The pork was amazing. The breading was light and crispy, not greasy at all, and the sauce was addictive. It was served with a delicous miso soup, a few Japanese pickles, and some shredded cabbage. By the time we left, there was a line to get in.
We finished off our day in Harajuku by visiting the Togo shrine, where we saw a bridal couple having their pictures taken; walking down Omote-sando, a high-end shopping street; and wandering down Takeshita-dori, a street full of shops selling trendy clothes to teenagers. It being a holiday, the street was packed with some of the most stylish people Andrew and I have ever seen. In our jeans and sneakers--and in our thirties--we felt more than a little underdressed and overaged. We finished the afternoon at the Chicago Thrift Store, where I bought a secondhand yukata (a kind of cotton kimono) .
It was then time to head back to the hotel and get ready for dinner. Andrew has a few Japanese friends from business school living in Tokyo, and we were invited to Satoshi's home for a sampling of traditional Japanese foods. Atsh, another friend, met us at the hotel, then we took a taxi to the residential area where Satoshi and his wife live. It was a wonderful dinner, and though I don't know the names for anything I'll try to describe them: a kind of spinach-like green with sesame; cooked melon; cooked daikon and lotus-root; pickles; sushi; and shabu-shabu. Shabu-shabu involves a platter of paper-thin raw meat, raw vegetables, and a small cauldron of boiling broth in which you cook the raw items, swishing them around with chopsticks. Dessert consisted of mochi (sticky rice) pastries with ice cream in the center. Delicious.
I slept for a couple of hours last night, bringing my total number of hours of sleep since Saturday to around six. Progress.
A few more pictures from Monday:
Sake barrels at the Meiji shrine
Even we understood not to go beyond this chain
Prayers at the Meiji shrine
Andrew on the subway at 5am
It was our first stint on the Tokyo subway, and though it took a bit of map-scrutinizing and map-turning-upside-downing, we eventually found our way. But at the subway exit at our destination, a sign awaited us: Tsukji fish market was closed. We were floored. "You've got to be kidding," another thwarted tourist said. We learned later that it was a national holiday; too bad we didn't know that before starting out!
Unsure what to do now that we literally had the entire day ahead of us, we headed to Harajuku to see the Meiji shrine, which we knew would be open at that hour. On our way, we stopped and got cans of coffee from a vending maching. Vending machines are everywhere in Tokyo, mostly selling drinks, and small cans of "Georgia" brand coffee are a popular item. It took us a bit of experimentation to figure out what we were actually getting, and I wound up with a nice can of ice-cold coffee before figuring out how to get the hot, but now we know.
It was actually a good bit of luck that we got there so early: the park surrounding the shrine was so peaceful in the morning, with hardly anyone around, and the city was so quiet. We approached the entrance gate and watched as people purified their hands with scoops of water from a pretty trough before bowing and walking inside. Inside the main part of the shrine were piles and piles of vegetables--apparently offerings in honor of the season. The vegetables were displayed in boat-shaped arrangements; some of the vegetables had faces painted or carved onto them.
As we meandered around and snapped pictures, a guard approached us. "American?" he asked. We nodded yes. "Bush, no," he said, shaking his head emphatically. "Bush, no." Then his face brightened. "Obama! Obama-san." He patted his heart. "Like. Obama-san."On my coat is currently an Obama button--I'd specifically worn it to Japan to see if it got any reaction--and I showed it to the guard. "Ah! Obama-san!" He was so excited that he actually spit a little as he spoke. "Obama-san!" It was a moment of true cross-cultural understanding. Bush, no. Obama-san, yes.
With hours to go until anything opened up, we stopped at a cafe called Chococro for coffee and hot dogs wrapped in croissants (apparently a specialty). Smaltzy Christmas music played as we people-watched and charted a course for the rest of the day.
Our first destination: Kiddyland, a six-story toy store. Saying that Kiddyland was my sole reason for visiting Japan is only a slight exaggeration; for months I'd been anticipating an onslaught of ridiculous cuteness. I anticipated buying piles of adorable plastic toys and more Hello Kitty merchandise than I could carry. Kiddyland did not disappoint. Floor after floor of animals with wide-set eyes and tiny ears; shelves upon shelves of Hello Kitty; tiny mole-like creatures with big noses and tiny feet. But it was truly a Tantalus situation, with prices prohibitively expensive. Sadly, I could reasonably buy only a tiny Hello Kitty charm and a tiny stuffed mole-like creature. But just being surrounded by so much cuteness was an experience in and of itself.
For lunch, we headed to Maisen, a restaurant known for its tonkatsu--breaded, fried pork filets served with a kind of barbeque sauce. As we looked over the menu outside, a waiter standing in the doorway spotted my Obama button. "Ah, Obama!" he said, smiling widely and nodding. Andrew and I felt like the button was the equivalent of entering a place with hands raised--"Don't be alarmed!"--in clear innocence and peace. The pork was amazing. The breading was light and crispy, not greasy at all, and the sauce was addictive. It was served with a delicous miso soup, a few Japanese pickles, and some shredded cabbage. By the time we left, there was a line to get in.We finished off our day in Harajuku by visiting the Togo shrine, where we saw a bridal couple having their pictures taken; walking down Omote-sando, a high-end shopping street; and wandering down Takeshita-dori, a street full of shops selling trendy clothes to teenagers. It being a holiday, the street was packed with some of the most stylish people Andrew and I have ever seen. In our jeans and sneakers--and in our thirties--we felt more than a little underdressed and overaged. We finished the afternoon at the Chicago Thrift Store, where I bought a secondhand yukata (a kind of cotton kimono) .
It was then time to head back to the hotel and get ready for dinner. Andrew has a few Japanese friends from business school living in Tokyo, and we were invited to Satoshi's home for a sampling of traditional Japanese foods. Atsh, another friend, met us at the hotel, then we took a taxi to the residential area where Satoshi and his wife live. It was a wonderful dinner, and though I don't know the names for anything I'll try to describe them: a kind of spinach-like green with sesame; cooked melon; cooked daikon and lotus-root; pickles; sushi; and shabu-shabu. Shabu-shabu involves a platter of paper-thin raw meat, raw vegetables, and a small cauldron of boiling broth in which you cook the raw items, swishing them around with chopsticks. Dessert consisted of mochi (sticky rice) pastries with ice cream in the center. Delicious.
I slept for a couple of hours last night, bringing my total number of hours of sleep since Saturday to around six. Progress.
A few more pictures from Monday:
Sake barrels at the Meiji shrine
Even we understood not to go beyond this chain
Prayers at the Meiji shrine
Andrew on the subway at 5am
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