Flushing Sounds and Sweat

I suppose I should begin by saying that we all arrived in Japan safe and sound, if not a little worse for wear. It's amazing how a 14 hour flight can seem so short, while simultaneously destroying your body. Katherine and Marlayna were the lucky ones who managed somehow to sleep for over 8 hours; Jose, Marina and I, on the other hand, managed to entertain ourselves for 14 hours and, try as we might, failed miserably in any attempts at slumber. Ah well...we are all still knackered anyway.

I could write an entire blog about the Tokyo airport. But suffice it to say this: I never get tired of discovering the multivarious toilet designs the world has to offer. Japan has already provided a smorgasbord. After passing through the ever-efficient immigration control and collecting our bags immediately off the carousel, Marlayna and I decided to take a field trip to the restroom. We were rewarded with 3 varieties of toilet: a no-frills Western commode, a squat toilet/hole in the ground a la India, and the most complicated urinary contraption I've ever seen. Marlayna feared what would happen if she pressed the wrong button on this thing. There was a bidet button, a button promising some sort of fountain, an "intense deodorizer" and, my favorite, a button sporting a musical note. Could my toilet REALLY sing to me?! Even better, as it turns out. The musical note button plays the "toilet flushing" sound...it doesn't flush the toilet, just plays the sound to mask the audibles emanating from your use of the facilities. Marlayna and I emerged giggling and quite proud of our discovery. After breezing through customs, I made another stop at the next bathroom to peel my jeans off (the humidity was closing in on Bombayesque) and change into shorts. I was treated with an even more technologically advanced bathroom, complete with electronic Star Trek style sliding doors to each stall. I felt like I was boarding a space capsule on pushing the button to walk in. Even better, as I was fretting to myself that I would have to expose my sock feet to the bathroom floor, I noticed a drop-down changing platform. The Japanese have thought of EVERYTHING.

Following my bathroom adventures, we bought tickets for the Skyliner train into the city and headed to the platform. I was again impressed with Japanese ingenuity when the escalator aid insisted I could bring our luggage cart down the escalator with me, and proceeded to wedge it safely into the escalator stairs. At this point, we encountered the first of what will be many vending machines (fast forward: these things sit solo on the side of the road here...they are EVERYWHERE). I was immediately drawn to a beverage labeled "Pocari Sweat". Sweat, eh? I of course, immediately deposited 120 Yen into the machine. It arrived in a hybrid between a can and a bottle and boasted the power to re-ionize my body. Awesome. Jose, ever the family cameraman, took our first Japan video as I gulped my first taste of Sweat. "Tastes like...Gatorade!" It's officially my new favorite beverage, if for no other reason than the fact that no one would ever dare steal a sip from my bottle labeled "Sweat".

My first great human interaction occurred as I was changing money at the airport, clad in my Red Sox shirt. The usually stoic-expressioned man behind the glass brightened as I approached and whispered "Reeeeddddd Soxxxxx". I smiled, "Yep!" He replied, "You know Matsuzaka!?" "Haha, of course I do! And Okajima, too!" Upon mention of a second countryman, the man grinned widely. "Ahhh! Yes! And Okajima!" Never let it be said that the Red Sox are anything less than uniters.

The 56 minute train journey into Tokyo was, as advertised, clean, comfortable, and efficient. Upon emerging from the airport tunnel into the world (slightly akin to emerging from the womb, no?), we spotted several Japanese steakhouses. You know, the hibachi kind where they cook right in front of you? Actually, no, these were just sub-suburban houses and shops, but my first thought really did go to Japanese steakhouses until I realized...these buildings were real. We're in Japan.

We managed fairly easily to find our way to the Ginza Line of the Tokyo Metro for our 3 stops to Asakusa. We lined up in the pre-determined rows and waited for our train (akin to an amusement park ride...and a world of difference from the chaos that is the subway in all the rest of the world). Again, clean, comfortable, efficient. Then, Jos and I managed to navigate our way to within a block of our hostel before asking for help from a policeman for the last few hundred yards. We were quite proud of ourselves, as Japanese addresses are written in an entirely different format from ours, streets aren't exactly named, and, best yet, buildings are chronologically numbered from their date of construction. It can make for a navigational nightmare.

We took much needed showers at the hostel (Marlayna, dripping sweat: "EVEN THE SOLES OF MY FEET ARE SWEATING!!!") and headed to dinner, accompanied by a Japanese guy who went to Brown, lives in Charlotte, NC, and is currently traveling the world. As he speaks some Spanish and is a Red Sox fan from his days in Providence, he and Jose developed a fast friendship. He was also in India something like, last week, so we bonded over India, the charms of the American South, and our Wachovia bank accounts. We were exceptionally lucky to have him around, as he led us to a quick, inexpensive and tasty rice bowl restaurant. Jos tried to order in Japanese but got a look like he was speaking in English. Thankfully, our friend was able to order for us, and we all gulped down miso and rice bowls. It is going to be interesting once we're without him!

I came to the realization today that this whole experience is like reverting to infancy. The spoken and written language is an incomprehensible jumble, we must observe and attempt to emulate behavior, trial by fire, we have trouble getting our food to our mouths with our new utensils. We are placed into a state far more helpless than that to which we are accustomed. And that is where the beauty lies.

We'll spend the next 4 days exploring Tokyo with as fine a toothed comb as we can explore this monstrously large place. We'll make our way from the quaint, quiet streets of Asakusa, our home in northeastern Tokyo, to the bustling Tokyo fish market at Tsukiji and the busiest intersection in the world in Shinjuku. As tired as I still am at the moment, I am also indescribably happy. Traveling again, taking in every little detail, meeting souls from all over the planet (one of our roommates last night was from one of the greatest cities on the planet, Brisbane!) Things are about to get a little crazy! :)

Hope all is well with everyone back home. I may not have time to respond individually to emails or facebook messages, but I'll try to comment if you comment here. Until next time... (I'll work on how to say that in Japanese in the meantime...)"