Geisha, Interrupted

Halloween, Now and Then

Last year at around this time, I dressed up as a dead geisha for a Halloween party.  Perhaps I had some intuitive sense that my illustriously embarrassing Tokyo nightlife would be coming to a close in the months to come.  Mostly though, I just thought it would be funny.  I even persuaded T to dress up as a dead samurai to complete the ensemble.

I told myself that I wasn't going to drink anything alcoholic on the night of the event last year, because I was already feeling immensely hungover from my own very private drinking party the evening prior (it was just me and the bottles).  Then however, I realized that the costume party I was attending had an open bar.  I don't have to tell you the rest of the story.

This year, I didn't let my non-drunkenness stop me from going out for Halloween.  Don't get me wrong, I wanted to let it stop me, but it just so happened that my best friend's birthday fell on the same night as a big Halloween party at a Tokyo nightclub.  For the sake of being there for my friend, I had to go out to a nightclub for the first time since I've quit drinking, in costume no less.

We spent quite some time in the nearest train station around midnight, waiting for her group of friends to gather and depart for the nightclub. 

Waiting there, we ran into some interesting characters who were presumably on the way to the same party.

This giant penis should have been my first indication that the night was going to suck.  (Did I really just write that?  Yes I did.)

Halloween 2007 has made me realize that nightclubs are truly intolerable places when you are not too drunk to notice your surroundings.  If it is a "good" party, you should first have to nearly freeze to death in a slow moving line outside the venue for nearly an hour.  And once you get inside, it is hard not to pass out from all the body heat emanated by gross sweaty people who are as tightly packed together as the ingredients in a roll of makisushi.

At the entrance, my friends and I ran into a guy who had an uncanny resemblance to a young Michael J. Fox, dressed as Marty McFly from back to the future.  He insisted we call him Marty, and offered to buy us a round of drinks.  When I told him that I wanted a coke, Marty asked me if I was a Mormon then told me to "Go back to Utah!"

Shortly after the above incident, Marty McFly slipped and fell down a short flight of stairs.  At the bottom, he got up just as quickly and pretended as if nothing had happened.

Soon I noticed the signs that strictly prohibited photography inside of the club, so I began to start taking as many pictures as I could in a futile attempt to get kicked out of the club, thus having an excuse to leave the birthday party early.

My newfound hatred of nightclubs makes me feel old, and yet I also get the feeling that I'm regressing.  I was a pretty shy kid, and since I haven't been drinking I can't help but feel like I'm crawling back into an old protective shell because I've stopped talking to strangers and I no longer try to be everyone's friend. 

But this is not necessarily a bad thing.  And when given the choice between that and falling down a flight of stairs, well, shyness can't be all that bad.

Merciless Moonbeams

Just days ago the full moon returned to shine over the Sumida river.  As a result, another brilliant bridge got caught in its spotlight.  Yes, there has been another series of Sumida River Moon Attacks.  Sumida River Moon Attacks, by the way, are what I've taken to calling the spectacular disasters that tend to occur whenever the full moon meets my own glaring inability to hold my camera still at night.

This is Kiyosubashi on a normal day:

Kiyosybashi is the younger sister of Eitaibashi.  The two siblings are separated by a ten minute walk along the Sumida.  Admittedly, it cannot be easy to exist in the shadow of an older sister with a history as rich as the Eitaibashi.  In spite of this, Kiyosubashi manages to sparkle all the same.

The bridge was modeled upon the old Mulheim Bridge in Cologne,  which was unfortnately destroyed during the Second World War.

Kiyosubashi herself, was built during that brief window of not being on fire that occurred just after the city of Tokyo was obliterated by the Great Kanto Earthquake (1923) and right before the newly rebuilt metropolis was blanketed with nepalm in 1945.  Having made it through the war and into the 21st century, Kiyosubashi has far outlived her inspiration.

Moon attacks notwithstanding.

         

         

Thy Will Kicketh Ass!!

Yatttaaaaa!

My visa extension was approved and I have a pretty new stamp on my passport!

Everybody say Yattaaaaaaa!

(BTW, I don't really expect anyone to watch this entire video, just enough to get the general idea, which is yatta.)

Five Things That Made My Commute More Interesting This Week

1) The poodle waiting outside of the Louis Vuitton shop in Omotesando.

2) The school children playing on the train, in their prussian soldier uniforms.

3) Salaryghosts!  And just in time for Halloween!

4) Some dude outside of a bar, who appears to be missing his suit.

5) And reflective surfaces, any reflective surfaces!

Live from the Hashi no Hashi

In Japanese, the word hashi can mean "bridge," "edge," or "chopsticks" depending on very subtle shifts of the speaker's tone in a language that is, for the most part, mono-tonal.  In my second year of Japanese language study back at college, my class read a story about a legendary monk named ikkyu-san who, when arrested for disregarding a sign that read "don't cross this bridge," assured the authorities that he had not been walking on the edge of the bridge, but in the middle.  This pun is both unfunny and confusing.  Looking back, I'm surprised that so many of us continued to pursue our Japanese studies after reading that story.

Last night, I took these photographs on my way home.

My camera and I lean over the edge of the Eitaibashi a bit too precariously, at times.

And we find that as moving objects come nearer to us, the harder it becomes to capture their motion.

But evading capture can be the whole point of movement, anyway.

I think that I was especially captivated myself, while positioning my lens over the edge of the bridge (or, hashi no hashi) last night, because I have been feeling immensely 'on edge' lately.  For one, I am anxiously awaiting a letter from immigration regarding the status of my visa application. 

As well, a few days ago I gave an advanced copy of my book to my program sponsor, who needs to read my memoir to get all the background information for my fifth step.  Waiting for her to finish reading it, I am desperately hoping that she does not think that my writing sucks. 

And there are even more reasons for my current state of edginess, yet I don't feel comfortable publishing them at the moment. 

So I post pictures of distorted lights from over the edge of my favorite bridge instead.

Deep Thoughts

Japanese fashon is like a constant riddle.  It always keeps us thinking, with deep questions such as:

and also:

and below, is my personal favorite:

The Nova Bunny Suicides

Just thought I'd put in my two yen, regarding the downfall of NOVA, Japan's largest and arguably most corrupt English Teaching Enterprise. 

For those who are outside of Japan (or anyone inside the country who lives underneath a rock or in an isolated dojo somewhere) NOVA's immensely popular mascot takes the curious form of a pink bunny with a yellow beak.

So naturally I've decided to express my commentary in collage form.  (Special thanks to Andy Riley, author of "The Book of Bunny Suicides," and to whoever drew the NOVA bunny for all your artwork.)

Drinking with the Garbage Bin

This morning I spotted a woman who was drinking with an old pal of mine: the trash bin. 

Garbage bins are great drinking buddies.  They always take your crap without complaint, and they never suggest that you might have a problem.  They even take the evidence of any such problem out of your hands just as quickly as you can down 500 ml.  Which is quick. 

She is an otherwise normal looking woman who appears to live in this exclusive part of town.  The only item in her hand that's not a homemaking supply is the large sized can of Sapporo.

The legality of drinking in public makes for an interesting dynamic here in Tokyo.  Japan is a country in which alcoholism is every bit a spectator sport.  When we are too embarrassed to drink in front of our family or friends, we drink in front of everyone else instead, alone with the trash.

My Very Own Oshiri Kajiri Mushi

Look who I found at the local toy shop today!

It seems that the oshiri kajiri mushi (butt-biting bug) has come a long way since I last posted his video here on my blog.  Even the foreign media is talking about him, and I have taken it upon myself to further illustrate the Australian news article below.  Enjoy!

Japan sinks teeth into 'bottom-biting bug'

In Japan, a strange insect has become a national phenomenon.

The "Bottom Biting Bug", as he's known, has been catapulted from a song on an afternoon children's television program to a karaoke favourite and now a live stage show.

And now the bug that's sunk its teeth into the nation's consciousness might have a message for modern Japan as well.

With alarming frequency, pop culture fads sweep across Japan. The animated monotonal bug responsible for this brain-catching song is one of the latest.

"Oshiri kajiri mushi" is what he sings, and it's what he is - the bottom-biting bug. . .

"He's a bug that likes to bite bottoms," Derubi (one of his designers) explained.

"When he was biting energetic bottoms in the countryside he was also energetic, but then when he came and started biting tired bottoms in the city, they tasted bitter and got sick."

The bug learns from his overindulgence, but vows to continue biting bottoms.

And the message in the song seems to have struck a chord with Japan's highly urbanised population.

"In this the modern society, people are living and trying not to be involved with others, even when they pass by or they're on the same train," Uruma said.

"I didn't feel very good about that, and this bug suddenly comes along and bites you on the bottom. For us that biting is the same action as suddenly talking or starting a conversation with somebody."

The bug's newfound fame is not expected to end here. His moment in the spotlight could be further extended, with hopes for more animated adventures, even a children's picture book.

Not bad for a bug who got his start on afternoon television, sinking his teeth into people's backsides.

Festival of the Dolls, Fried and Otherwise

On my way home nearly every day, I pass through a traditional Japanese neighborhood called Ningyocho.  Located just a few blocks from where I live, the name "Ningyocho" literally translates into "village of the dolls".  Since moving over to this side of the city, I've always thought that Ningyocho is a pretty creepy name for a town.

To boot, on the corner of the main crossing there is an large old shop that sells "ningyoyaki," which literally translates to "fried dolls."  Thankfully though, ningyoyaki does not refer to precisely that.  Instead, it is a type of fried confectionery that sometimes takes the shape of a Japanese doll.  Fittingly, Ningyocho is famous for ningyoyaki.

Behold the frying of the dolls.

The doll fryers are especially busy lately, seeing as yesterday, today and tomorrow comprise Ningyocho's annual "doll festival."  The streets are packed, as doll vendors and connoisseurs are here from around the country.  Their products are actually pretty neat.  (Click on images for larger photo.)