Osaka is my playground (Day One & Two)
DAY ONE: ARRIVAL
It is December 21st and once again I find myself embarking on a solo trip across the Japanese frontier. Only this time I've got no friends waiting for me where I'm going; I've got no one to call while I'm in town to request temporary lodgings from or to accompany me as I scour the streets at night. I don't even know where I'll be sleeping for the next 3-5 days. Of course I've brought all the necessities: plenty of hard Japanese currency, Kurt Vonnegut's Bluebeard, a book bag with two sets of clothes and my camera which will hopefully be able to capture some of the things I'll see on my trip. For a person my age, the opportunity to explore these cities of mayhem is the equivalent of turning loose a small child in FAO Schwarz, or perhaps a prepubescent teenager with an unlimited gaming card at Dave 'N Buster's.
Like my previous voyage to Kyoto, I find myself at the Shinkansen station, the novelty of its awesome power having slightly declined since the last time I was here, although I still reserve a sense of admiration as I climb aboard the non-smoking unreserved car. As we scream onward towards our final destination, I pull out a slip of paper I brought with me to write this introduction in order to record my travels. To give you an idea of just how incredibly fast this train is, by the time it took me to write this short passage, we're already half-way to Hiroshima (usually 1-2 hours by car).
So now before I begin to tell you the tales of my adventures, keep in mind that I only post about 1/3 of what I actually do. For the benefit of the reader--also because I lack the mental endurance to attempt to reach absolute precision--I've decided to include only the juiciest of descriptions that will hopefully give you an idea of just how crazy this country and its people--myself included for voluntarily choosing to come here--really are.
And so, let my journey begin.
DAY TWO: AFTER THE TEST
After 3 or so grueling hours of standardized test-takling, when I had finished the last section my score appeared on the computer screen. I had considerably high expectations for myself since I had devoted nearly every day for the past month to studying, and I was not surprised to see that my hard work had actually paid off.
"Damn right," I said to myself when the computer asked if I would like to save my score, and send it to potential graduate schools. On the way out of the building I got the urge to perform a somesault, but instead I somehow managed to contain myself. Despite the fact that it was a downpour in Osaka, I was so relieved to be finished with the test that I treated myself to an all-you-can-eat sushi lunch, and bought myself a book entitled "Post-Impressionism" that I found in a Japanese bookstore's obscure English section, resting snugly between "Marriage: A Sentence," and "30 Cake Recipes".
Because of extremely inclement weather conditions my plans for the day had been temporarily postponed, so I found myself sitting in a comfy chair at the ubiquitous Starbuck's-esque cafe franchises called "Excelsior Cafe". I'm considering dozing off for a few hours since my neighbor in the Internet Cafe where I slept the previous night was so involved in whatever it was that he was doing, that it required him to click his mouse button at a pace that sounded like he was transcribing a Shakespearean sonnet into morse code. It goes without saying I didn't sleep as well as I would've liked to.
View of Osaka from the roof of a department store
After being asked to leave several establishments because I brazenly continued to sleep in their comfy chairs--it was still pouring and I had a few hours before dinner, hence absolutely nothing else became available--I decided to waste a few hours by purchasing a ticket to see "I Am Legend". Luckily, this movie was in English. After serious deliberation, I had dinner at an Oden restaurant where I downed a few tall ones to give me the sort of confidence required when walking into an all-Japanese bar and attempting to look like a regular, while giving everyone else the kind of look that says, "Hey, I do this all the time!" I found a very peculiar-looking establishment called "Mystery Trip Bar", and a sign posted outside of it read: "If you come with Mick Jagger or Ringo Starr you can drink for free for half a year...maybe..." Obviously this was the kind of place I needed to go. In retrospect it was a good idea because not only did I meet a guide and partner-in-crime for the night, but my newfound friend, Satoshi, also spoke no English which was a great opportunity to practice my Japanese--which is still crap by the way.
I'll fast-forward through all the trivial, mundane events everyone has been acquainted with at some point in their lives; almost getting run over by a Yakuza in a speeding black sedan honking his horn while driving down a narrow side street which I'm sure cars weren't allowed; having your picture put on a wall in a bar because you scored a 333 in a darts game; walking through an arcade with potentially millions of people shuffling by like we were billions of tiny red blood cells traveling on the interstate highway of our circulatory system, while bright neon and fluorescent billboards create an epileptic phantasmagoria for the naked eye. If you are chlostrophobic in the least, I would seriously warn you to consider if taking a trip to a big city in Japan sounds like a great idea.
At the end of the night Satoshi and I were looking for decent lodgings which afforded us by way of the illustrious capsule hotels.
My room seemed a bit bigger than what I was expecting, but I wasn't any less enthusiastic about finally being able to say I slept in a capsule. Satoshi slept directly above me. As we were returning our keys in the morning I said to him in Japanese, "tanoshii toki arigatou (thanks for the good time)." The hotel manager looked up as I said this because he was responsible for our rooms sharing such close proximity, and no doubt assumed we had done something scandalous.
It is December 21st and once again I find myself embarking on a solo trip across the Japanese frontier. Only this time I've got no friends waiting for me where I'm going; I've got no one to call while I'm in town to request temporary lodgings from or to accompany me as I scour the streets at night. I don't even know where I'll be sleeping for the next 3-5 days. Of course I've brought all the necessities: plenty of hard Japanese currency, Kurt Vonnegut's Bluebeard, a book bag with two sets of clothes and my camera which will hopefully be able to capture some of the things I'll see on my trip. For a person my age, the opportunity to explore these cities of mayhem is the equivalent of turning loose a small child in FAO Schwarz, or perhaps a prepubescent teenager with an unlimited gaming card at Dave 'N Buster's.
Like my previous voyage to Kyoto, I find myself at the Shinkansen station, the novelty of its awesome power having slightly declined since the last time I was here, although I still reserve a sense of admiration as I climb aboard the non-smoking unreserved car. As we scream onward towards our final destination, I pull out a slip of paper I brought with me to write this introduction in order to record my travels. To give you an idea of just how incredibly fast this train is, by the time it took me to write this short passage, we're already half-way to Hiroshima (usually 1-2 hours by car).
So now before I begin to tell you the tales of my adventures, keep in mind that I only post about 1/3 of what I actually do. For the benefit of the reader--also because I lack the mental endurance to attempt to reach absolute precision--I've decided to include only the juiciest of descriptions that will hopefully give you an idea of just how crazy this country and its people--myself included for voluntarily choosing to come here--really are.
And so, let my journey begin.
DAY TWO: AFTER THE TEST
After 3 or so grueling hours of standardized test-takling, when I had finished the last section my score appeared on the computer screen. I had considerably high expectations for myself since I had devoted nearly every day for the past month to studying, and I was not surprised to see that my hard work had actually paid off.
"Damn right," I said to myself when the computer asked if I would like to save my score, and send it to potential graduate schools. On the way out of the building I got the urge to perform a somesault, but instead I somehow managed to contain myself. Despite the fact that it was a downpour in Osaka, I was so relieved to be finished with the test that I treated myself to an all-you-can-eat sushi lunch, and bought myself a book entitled "Post-Impressionism" that I found in a Japanese bookstore's obscure English section, resting snugly between "Marriage: A Sentence," and "30 Cake Recipes".
Because of extremely inclement weather conditions my plans for the day had been temporarily postponed, so I found myself sitting in a comfy chair at the ubiquitous Starbuck's-esque cafe franchises called "Excelsior Cafe". I'm considering dozing off for a few hours since my neighbor in the Internet Cafe where I slept the previous night was so involved in whatever it was that he was doing, that it required him to click his mouse button at a pace that sounded like he was transcribing a Shakespearean sonnet into morse code. It goes without saying I didn't sleep as well as I would've liked to.
View of Osaka from the roof of a department store
After being asked to leave several establishments because I brazenly continued to sleep in their comfy chairs--it was still pouring and I had a few hours before dinner, hence absolutely nothing else became available--I decided to waste a few hours by purchasing a ticket to see "I Am Legend". Luckily, this movie was in English. After serious deliberation, I had dinner at an Oden restaurant where I downed a few tall ones to give me the sort of confidence required when walking into an all-Japanese bar and attempting to look like a regular, while giving everyone else the kind of look that says, "Hey, I do this all the time!" I found a very peculiar-looking establishment called "Mystery Trip Bar", and a sign posted outside of it read: "If you come with Mick Jagger or Ringo Starr you can drink for free for half a year...maybe..." Obviously this was the kind of place I needed to go. In retrospect it was a good idea because not only did I meet a guide and partner-in-crime for the night, but my newfound friend, Satoshi, also spoke no English which was a great opportunity to practice my Japanese--which is still crap by the way.
I'll fast-forward through all the trivial, mundane events everyone has been acquainted with at some point in their lives; almost getting run over by a Yakuza in a speeding black sedan honking his horn while driving down a narrow side street which I'm sure cars weren't allowed; having your picture put on a wall in a bar because you scored a 333 in a darts game; walking through an arcade with potentially millions of people shuffling by like we were billions of tiny red blood cells traveling on the interstate highway of our circulatory system, while bright neon and fluorescent billboards create an epileptic phantasmagoria for the naked eye. If you are chlostrophobic in the least, I would seriously warn you to consider if taking a trip to a big city in Japan sounds like a great idea.
At the end of the night Satoshi and I were looking for decent lodgings which afforded us by way of the illustrious capsule hotels.
My room seemed a bit bigger than what I was expecting, but I wasn't any less enthusiastic about finally being able to say I slept in a capsule. Satoshi slept directly above me. As we were returning our keys in the morning I said to him in Japanese, "tanoshii toki arigatou (thanks for the good time)." The hotel manager looked up as I said this because he was responsible for our rooms sharing such close proximity, and no doubt assumed we had done something scandalous.
posted by Alex Cruz at
3:28 AM
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