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Imperial Palace: Harmony of Dissonance
Tapping my feet impatiently at the exit of the train station, with silent curses under my breath. Imperial palace was just across the road, but no sign of the rarity that actually dared to appear later than me. My bored mind started to wander off as I recalled the sights and tastes of the morning. Breakfast was a quick affair of Green Tea Kit-Kat and a rudimentary bottle of Poison to start the day. Questions regarding the queer sight of a festival that involved Middle-aged men walking around the streets of Asakusa in Sumo-like underwear flashed through my mind.A familiar frame, signaturely-hunched silhouette in a Red jersey emerged; and like a bull seeing red, I hollered, "Ass Clown, you're late." Half-assed apologies and a quick mutual introduction to the China-man later, he blurted out "Uh, I need to find a toilet, it might take a while..."
"Bastard, first thing you need to do when you see us is that you need to shit... I need to go too." I classically responded.
Yup, exactly the way I remembered our 19-year friendship to be, full of angst and swearing (on my part). Bernard is a friendship relic and my first "official" best friend, but it was just a convenient moniker, we were more like childhood rivals through primary school and he was my favourite taunting bag in Secondary School (so much so he claims to be immune to my taunting now). It was only in JC that we started to tread on different paths, I aimed to become the epitome of fun, and him? Well, sorta the anti-thesis of fun, strived for academic achievement instead, selling his soul in the process; but at least it bought him a hefty scholarship that took him to the UK and now Japan, and as much as we hate (present tense) each other's guts, our sour friendship usually picked up where it left off, and it sure as hell was good to see a familiar face in a foreign land, ok.. maybe not so much the face.
A crapload later, he was ready to play tour guide for the day as we headed into the Imperial Palace, to survey how the Japanese royals live. According to our ass-guide, the Emperor lived deep within the palace, and the fact that they built a subway line using the palace as the central reference point (Marunouchi Line), only went to show the Jap's reverence towards their monarch. Even animals know their place and pay their respects, as we witnessed the usually- haughty swans humbly waddling through the moats of the palace.A quick visit to a museum that displayed traditional Japanese Brush Art (including some pieces by the current Empress), did little to raise my appreciation for it. What I could fully appreciate however, was the Emperor's ASTOUNDINGLY Zen garden. Lush bushes of carefully primmed greenery, temperate-climate trees, SEVERELY obese Koi, a huge pond with two bridges sprawling across it, came together to form the layers of the little slice of Zen in the modern metropolis; oh, and the miniature waterfall... icing on the Zen cake.
Cooler than Mr. Miyagi
Its been proven that posing is EXTREMELY contagious (refer to Day 6, Manly Pose), so I just had to get my Best-Ass-Clown-Friend to pose in a shot with me. A keeper, if I must say so myself. Personally, I like the shot cos I think it captures the essence of our 19-year friendship, 2 poseur-rivals standing back-to-back, a huge landscape behind them, yet they're fighting for space over a small rock, one Ass-Cool, one *ahem* not so cool...Yup, pretty much sums it up, alright.
Harmony of Dissonance
A further walk down the garden after all the Zen posing took us down a path littered with various temperate flora, before we came to Edo Castle; or whatever was left of it, at least. Feudal war left many Japanese castles destroyed, such that most of which which exist today are restored in part or in whole. But for Edo castle, well.... not so much.
IMAGINE the castle rrrright there
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Yasukuni War Shrine: What's so Civil about War anyway?
A not-so-short walk took us to the war shrine notorious for countless gloomy Chinese-politician faces on International Television. The Yasukuni Shrine is a Shinto Shrine built to commemorate the bravery of the great warriors that fought for Japan through all the different ages. Apparently, in Shinto, the believers worship and pray towards the furniture of their ancestors or the people they believe in or something, kinda spooky if you ask me. But the solemnity of the mood of the shrine was quickly lightened by an amusing image of a crow perched on top of the bald head of a great samurai warrior, and of course, the smell of Giant Tako-yaki and Okonomiyaki didn't hurt either.
A visit to the war museum allowed us to witness war-time vehicles like a live-size Zero fighter, and more interestingly, to delve in my latest favourite past-time, goofing off with funky hats. On a more serious note, its no secret that the Japs cover up their WWII shame by justifying war with economic expansion and all that bull. While the rest of the world looks at them as shirking their responsibility, I was wondering if its actually the logical thing to do on the part of the Japanese government; to delude the youths of the nation so that they will not have to hang their heads in shame. Delusional maybe, but essential perhaps, for the sake of national pride and progression of their society.
I Know who I'd shoot in a War
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Tokyo University: I see a Red Door and I wanna Paint it Black
The China-man's rather curiosity beckoned Ass-clown to take us to his academic haven, Tokyo University. Being a fan of Love Hina, I have always held an artistic impression of the university, and was semi-keen on verifying this impression. Upon arrival, the first thing that struck me was the accuracy of the scene from the comic, with the fabled clock tower providing a trademark backdrop for the University. The rest of the University architecture was a fusion of traditional heritage-rich exteriors with a touch of modern technology and furnishing in the interiors.
Picture Perfect
Coolest Student in Todai
One of the main cultural highlights of the University had to be the Red Gate, officially known as Goshuden-Mon. According to Ass-Clown, he said that its every (nerdy) Jap High School Kid's Dream to walk through the Red Gate. Just like in Love Hina, the results of the entrance to the University will be posted on a board outside of the Red Gate, and to pass through it symbolizes the first steps towards life in the best university in Tokyo (while the rest of the ousted kids consider jobs in the booming AV industry).
I make it Look SO Easy
The effects of the Green Tea Kit-Kat started to crumble as my mortal stomach growled in hunger after 6 hours on two chocolate sticks. Relief came from a little outlet of Maguro-Ichiba across the street in the form an extremely tasty bowl of Maguro Sashimi-don, and unlimited Mugi Tea for under 7,000 yen, definitely one of the best-valued meals of the entire trip.
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Shinjuku, Metropolitan Building: Elevation
Racing against the setting sun, our make-shift tour guide took us to the Metropolitan Building in Shinjuku, where we could catch a good view of the city landscape in the day and possibly even Mt. Fuji, and IF we were lucky. Anticipation built as the lift scaled and the sense of elevation increased. Considering the expectations set up Tokyo Tower two nights before, the first thing that struck me after stepping out into the 45th floor was the lack of ambiance compared to the jazzy-feel of Tokyo Tower. I hurried to the windows to get a bird's eye view of the landscape. I wasn't sure if it was the due to the location or due to the timing of day, but somehow, even though we were supposedly more elevated than we were in Tokyo Tower, the day view of the Tokyo City landscape wasn't half as breathtaking.
That's not to say that it wasn't beautiful, it was actually, it was just not as awe-inspiring as the night scene from Tokyo Tower. Probably there is just something about the Vampire's preference for millions of dazzling lights at night over a far reaching view that stretches into the horizon. Speaking of which, we noticed that we couldn't see any sign of Mt. Fuji in the horizon. So, we headed to the South Tower to roll the dice of destiny instead. In vain however, as while the outline of the ridges could be faintly identified at the horizon, the distinct snow-capped peak of Nirvana was sorely missing.
Yoyogi Park: Heart of Green
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Shibuya: Take a Bow
A day of fiddling with my (mum's) rather archaic camera had Ass-Clown pitching the idea of getting a new camera in Japan, since he claimed it was much cheaper there. The conniving fiend drove the stake into my vampiric shopper's heart by taking me to the Yodobashi Camera at Shibuya before dinner. I entered the place, willed against not blowing close to 500 bucks on something I didn't think that I'd need; at least that was until he showed me the new Nikon s50. I recalled the mother looking for a new camera, as I fiddled with the s50 and the Panasonic Lumix. But I fell in love with the s50, ESPECIALLY since it has totally NO protruding parts, was sleek & silver, and had the coolest "swish" sound when you turned the camera on. Wanting to call the mother for an opinion resulted in a futile attempt (as usual), so after MUCH deliberation, my impulse buying Mr. Hyde got the better of me, and I left the store defeated into a purchase; no thanks to a backstabbing make-shift tour guide trying to syphon me of my tourist yen, 27,000 of them to be exact.
9 Days in Japan without eating a sushi feast had us clamouring for it, as the Ass-Clown took us to a little outlet in one of the streets of Shibuya. The house rules were simple, each plate on the conveyor belt costs 105 yen, and each person had to order a minimum of 7 plates. Also, each person was expected to leave within half an hour. The queue moved quite fast due to the Japanese sense of self-awareness and self-regulation. We were given seats within 20 mins of waiting, albeit being split into pairs.
Bernard and I went on an exotic fish frenzy, as we picked whatever-sushi-that-couldn't-be-recognized off the conveyor belt. I had NO idea what the hell I was eating most of the time, but it didn't really matter, since whatever I ate, it seemed to taste excellent. We went ballistic with the tuna, sampling the 4 different grades of Maguro, Maguro Steak, Chutoro and Ootoro (again). Doing a side-by-side taste comparison, this time round it was apparent that Ootoro was the best of all the 4 different grades, and honestly, it was even better than the previous Ootoro-Sashimi, despite the lower price. The Ootoro was smoother this time round, fresher, juicier and felt a lot less like watermelon when I put it in my mouth. But still, I sure didn't get the same tastebud-orgasm that Kobe Beef endowed on me.
On the other end of the spectrum, there was Uni (Sea Urchin). Often regarded an acquired taste in Japanese cuisine, I earned a first-hand encounter with the need for the word "acquired." The texture of the thing was REALLY mushy, kinda like mussels, except that the "juice" was EXTREMELY bitter. Imagine taking a bite into it and having the bitter juice burst inside your mouth. Disgusting shit.
Save for that, dinner was pleasant, as the company of a 19-year old friend / rival over the dinner table was most fine. We nostalgically chatted about old times and picked up where we last left off about our current lives. Being the benevolent one, I decided to buy the Ass-clown dinner, partially for being a better-than-expected-tour-guide and also for his help in playing my translator during the camera purchase. Even though he claimed it was the first time he was actually getting a Jer Kangsanagi-treat, I was quite sure he was lying through his teeth.
After performing his final duties as a make-shift tour guide for the day by telling us about the layout of Shibuya, the Hachiko story, and the fact that we could actually take a photo right in the middle of the crossing when the Green Man was on (which I tried but somehow the camera man was so anxious the pic turned out blur), Ass-Clown bade his farewell, as the Tripartite prepared to take the entire Asakusa line back. It sure as hell was fun meeting up and catching up with a long-time friend in a foreign land.
Separation Anxiety--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Asakusa Temple: Too Little Too Late
Arriving back at Asakusa, we decided to heed the Ass-Clown's recommendation and revisit the stretch along Asakusa temple to pick up sourvenirs. Arriving at the familiar gates, we saw a group of people crowded in front of the temple, spectating at a queer event in progression. What we saw was two groups of people, sending out one representative at a time, who would hop a little on one foot, bow at each other, before what I would think is competing in downing a huge bowl of Sake, sorta like a drinking contest of sorts.
While the atmosphere was definitely joyous and festive, we made no sense of the event despite watching numerous bouts, so we decided to head a little inwards, towards the familiar temple. Most of the sourvenir stalls were closed in lieu of the festival, save for some road-side stalls set up near the temple proper. But our arrival proved to be a little too late, as even these stalls were on the verge of calling it a day. Nothing could stop us from investing in the festival tidbits though, while the Chinaman went for Giant Takoyakis, I chose to go for the stand which sold chic-friendly, chocolate-coated bananas.
Festive Vampire
With time left to spare, we decided to be the cheapskates that we were and go for our last chance for free drinks at the bar. Upon arrival, we were greeted by a full-house before the busty bar chic came over to serve us. My curiosity of the festival and opportunism led me to chatting up the bar chic to ask her about the festival. She said that it was the Sanja-Matsuri, and tried to describe the festival being about people carrying some sorta shrine around the streets of Asakusa. But I guess I was a little too distracted by her bouncing assets as she was doing all sort of cute actions trying to give me some visual aid as she spoke. Moreover, the "See anything You like?" on her T-shirt didn't make it any easier for me to concentrate.
Either way, the Tripartite decided to order some drinks as we soaked in the festive atmosphere, adding to the rowdiness with our discussions of how cute/hip Jap chics are when they speak English, as proven above, and the chics whom we thought were hot. The discussion was mainly between the China-man and I, as a very shy Bob vehemently refused to express his opinion of what type of chic he found hot. One Samurai rock, half a Sake and lots of boob-ogling later, we decided to call it a night. I figured that since my staring was probably quite obvious, the least I could do was complement the bar-chic on her "cute" T-shirt. Innuendos abound, but it was bound to be lost in traslation if I furthered my cause. A smooth compliment was acknowledged with a warm smile and a short "thank you," and I probably let my smoothness get to me so much that the thought of opportunistically grabbing a photo with the chic TOTALLY slipped my mind. Smooth indeed.
