Matt and I are moving to Noborito on October 4. To a certifiable slum -- a gaijin-house -- but rent will be $325 each, and the city is vibrant: a nice contrast to the $720 we each pay now to live in a ghost town. And I`ve never lived in a slum before! I think it will be great for the creative output. Plus there is a sketchy inner-city swimming pool next door we can use for free, and a bowling alley ...
The past week has been work, drunken firecrackers by the river, a day-trip to Harajuku (Gwen Stefani you are my ragged angel), more kareoke, and freshly made shrimp chips which are the best thing I have ever tasted. (Trey from SATC: It`s like a little bit of Heaven!) I also got a kazoo in a tube of Pringles chips, that is shaped like two Pringles chips .... Today is my 25th birthday. I think I`ll be getting a wisdom injection any day now. Any day! 25: Good God. Been reading about the cultural influence of Barbie.
It is so hot here that I, literally, point my toe outside the patio door, as one does with bath water, to test the temperature, and see if I`m able to handle it.
Last Sunday, ladies and gentlemen, I drank a tower of beer. A tube of it eight feet high, with a spout at the bottom! This while at least a dozen highly drunk and likely underaged Japanese women threw themselves onto our table to flirt with all the men in the party, screaming, `Ah! Canada! I`m drunk! Want to drink?` I swear, I would love to be a white male for just one day in this city. And I suspect that Matt -- however subconciously -- wishes he was single for just one day. ;)
Got my alien registration card today. I look like a world-weary drug dealer with liver problems in the picture. In reality, I was just frightened of the photo booth, which kept talking to me.
Been writing reams. Poetry and fiction, in a green coiled notebook. Lots of iced coffee, lots of sauteed tofu.
Trying to find an apartment is difficult. Matt and I are telling various real estate agents that we are married, which helps somewhat, but we are still white, and nothing much can be done about that.
The green-eyed indigo children will be let loose on the streets of Tokyo, en masse: they will eat fish burgers and drink beer amid the mazes of Shimokitizawa, will prowl the intersections of Shibuya in search of film festivals and literature from the 50s. They will retire to their apartments and read Salinger like madwomen, comforted by glasses of gin, by potato chips: all of it window-dressing, and un-necessary, but there and so good. They will have cell phones suddenly, small ones that can take pictures, and will stare into them on the train, baffled and enthralled -- the indigo children will never fully understand their phones. They will use them primarily to send funny messages, or practical messages, to their lovers, and to take depressing photo essays of the torn awnings and out-of-business shops in Keioyomuiriland. Still, they will pay the monthly phone bill, absently.
They will go to the train station in Shinjuku! They will stand very still near the escalators as thousands of Japanese commuters brush past them. Unreasonably, this will make them feel sane again. The neon signs, the electric whine of a thousand unseen insects, the shriek of train and barrista and child and magaphone: it will prove that they are not the only living person in the universe, which they had forgotten.
First week of work went super-well -- getting into the hang of things, have my little haunts, am slowly acclimatizing myself to the unspeakable hell that is panty-hose in 40-degree weather. And tonight there is a staff party!
Matt and I are at an Internet cafe in Shimokitizawa, nursing our free drinks. This is the neighbourhood to which we are desperate to move. It looks like the Tokyo one sees in movies but is more bohemian, less corporate: vintage dress shops clog the streets and university punks with mohawks and hello kitty backpacks drink beer as they dodge the taxis.
Conversation:
Guy: Want to go for Station beers?
Me: Well, okay. [thinking, there must be a bar near the train station. Maybe it`s called The Station Bar!]
But no! It involves going to the grocery store, buying beer, and drinking it as the trains go by. It`s the best. Also, JD Salinger is the best! And this place called Freshness Burger where you can get fish burgers and beer and smoothies, and smoke.
Sitting in a coffeehouse called Doutor; smoking a Marlboro, and I`ve just ordered a coffee in Japanese for the first time (phonetically: Hotto kohi, em sizoh). Woot!
Hung out with Ryan and Aya yesterday, and they showed us the exciting Tokyo sights (which are unavailable in Inagi-shi, natch): the corporate neon millions of Shinjuku -- everyone is beautifully dressed there! Thousand dollar suits, short flashy skirts with heels that go on forever -- and Sibuya, to get sexy cell phones and walk dreamily across the same insane 5-way intersection Scarlett Johansen did in Lost in Translation.
I love my cell phone. It`s tiny and aqua-coloured and takes pictures, and now I can stare into it on the train as the locals do.
Some interesting facts about living in Japan:
1) In the shi areas (more rural; where Matt and I live) you can smoke while walking down the street, although it`s considered slightly rude.
2) In the ku areas (more urban; where Ryan lives and where I am right now) you CAN NOT smoke while walking down the street, and if you do, you can be fined 2000 yen! Payable immediately! However, you can drink beer while walking down the street. Also, you can pee onto the street. And, there are smoking areas in most buildings, including (thank God) coffeehouses.
3) You can smoke on your patio, but only if your neighbours are not airing their futons. Also, you`re not supposed to talk, even softly, on your patio. (Which is too bad, cuz our patio rocks, and veritably screams COCKTAIL PARTY!)
4) Ketchup doesn`t really exist here. You put curry-flavoured salt on your fries.
5) The trains defy logic and zoom heartlessly to all corners of Tokyo without saying why or for what reason.
6) Instead of dollar stores there are 100 yen stores! These stores are your friend.
7) Alcohol is dangerously cheap and can be purchased at the 7-11 or grocery stores. Yellow Tail red wine for the equivalent of $7CAD. A .26 of Beefeater gin for $12CAD. A .26 of most kinds of whiskey for around $10CAD, etc.
Shinjuku Station: the busiest train station in the world, with over 1 million commuters daily. Everything is covered in sweat. Your passport and proof of Alien Registration is in your backpack, as required by law: don`t lose it.
(That was a snapshot?)
Matt and I are thinking of moving in a couple of months. Iangi-shi has revealed itself to be the veritable Langford of Tokyo! Quiet and dusty.
More later -- next time I`ll write this out ahead of time ... Things are DANDY and insane and drenched in sweat (38 degrees yesterday!) and everything smells like sushi or miso soup and children say Hello to me and I say Konichiwa back.
Ｉｎ Ｔｏｋｙｏ！Ｈｅｒｅ ｉｔ ｉｓ．．． Ａ ｓｗａｎｋ ｐａｄ ｉｎ Ｉａｎｇｉ， ａ ４０ ｏｆ Ｂｏｍｂａｙ ｇｉｎ ｆｏｒ ２１ ｄｏｌｌａｒｓ Ｃａｎａｄｉａｎ， ａｎｄ ａ ＰＡＣＫ ＯＦ ＭＡＲＬＢＯＲＯＳ， ｆｒｉｅｎｄｓ， ｆｏｒ ａ ｍｅｒｅ ２３０ ｙｅｎ． Ｐｕｒｃｈａｓｅｄ ｆｒｏｍ ａ ｖｅｎｄｉｎｇ ｍａｃｈｉｎｅ！
Ｍａｔｔ ｎｅａｒｌｙ ｂｒｏｋｅ ａ ｔｒａｉｎ． Ｂｙ ｔｈｅ ｗａｙ， ｎａｖｉｇａｔｉｎｇ Ｔｏｋｙｏ’ｓ ｔｒａｉｎ ｓｙｓｔｅｍ ｉｓ ａ ｆａｔｅ Ｉ ｗｏｕｌｄ ｎｏｔ ｗｉｓｈ ｏｎ ｍｙ ｗｏｒｓｔ ｅｎｅｍｙ． At ７－１１ ｔｈｅｒｅ ｉｓ ａ ｓｅｌｅｃｔｉｏｎ ｏｆ ｂｅｅｒ ａｎｄ ｈａｒｄ－ｂａｒ ａｔ ｖｅｒｙ ｃｏｍｐｅｔｉｔｉｖｅ ｐｒｉｃｅｓ ．．． Ｗｈａｔ ｅｌｓｅ ｔｏ ｓａｙ？ Ｉ’ｍ ｏｎ ａ ｓｔｒａｎｇｅ ｌｉｔｔｌｅ ｋｅｙｂｏａｒｄ ｔｈａｔ ｓｗｉｔｃｈｅｓ ｔｏ Ｊａｐａｎｅｓｅ ｔｙｐｅ ｅｖｅｒｙ ｔｉｍｅ Ｉ ｈｉｔ ｔｈｅ ｓｐａｃｅ ｂａｒ． Ｓｏ ｔｈａｔ’ｓ ａｌｌ ｆｏｒ ｎｏｗ． Ｐｌｅａｓｅ ｅｍａｉｌ ｙｏｕｒ ｍａｉｌｉｎｇ ａｄｄｒｅｓｓ ａｎｄ Ｉ ｗｉｌｌ ｓｅｎｄ ｙｏｕ ａ ｃｒｙｐｔｉｃ ｐｏｓｔ ｃａｒｄ ｉｎ ｒｅｔｕｒｎ ．．．