Dearest Rachel –
It’s funny; just as the official portion of our time on tour here draws to a close, the level of activity ramps up considerably. You’ve already gotten a couple of letters about Friday’s activities, but those only got you halfway through the day itself. It’s as if there was some final push, a sprint toward the finish as the week was set to draw to a close. Indeed, those letters didn’t even get you to where and when we returned to our first hotel for our final official night. And I can tell you, there was a lot going on from that point on; much of which I wouldn’t necessarily have considered doing (or wouldn’t have known how to do on my own, given the language barrier), but it was unquestionably part of the whole experience.
It’s just challenging to get it all put down into words quickly enough. Which is the supreme irony of life and any effort to record it; in the moments when the most is happening that you might want to remember, there is, almost by definition, the least amount of time to commit the events into words or pictures. There’s so much happening so fast that it all passes by. I’m hoping that, as we’ve given ourselves a few extra days to take things in at our own pace, we can also take the time to absorb what what we experience, and give you a more complete account of it all.
Such as our experience yesterday upon arriving back at our hotel from when we landed here in Japan. Checking in wasn’t much of a problem, as this last day – and technically, the day to come, as the tour company offered the opportunity to extend our stay by a day on either side of the actual tour, which we happily took them up on – was effectively handled through the company. We would be all set for the next two nights. However, I’d booked us independently to stay for another couple of nights thereafter; moreover, I’d arranged for three nights’ stay – Saturday (tonight), Sunday and Monday – only to discover at the front desk that I’d effectively booked Saturday two different ways, as the tour extension covered Saturday (as last night was part of the tour proper). No problem; the clerk cancelled my personal booking for tonight, and had me settle up for only two days’ stay – which was a momentary issue in itself, as I could have sworn that I’d paid for the stay upon making the reservation. That turned out to be a mistaken memory on my part, along with how the booking was apparently for only one occupant. These issues got taken care of at the desk, though, and the cost, while not that much less than I’d been quoted in October, was still a good ten thousand yen less than the three-day reservation I’d originally made.
Now, I hadn’t expected we would be back in the same room we’d stayed in previously – and in fact, we’ll also have to change rooms on Sunday for my personal reservation – but I was surprised at the differences from our first pied-à-terre to this one. Unlike that room, this one has no three-pronged outlets. And while we dealt with this issue in Nagano, the fact that our initial room had such outlets rather confused me.
No problem, I thought; this is Tokyo. I’m sure that the front desk will have adapters to borrow, just like their counterparts in Nagano. But no; the only adapters they had available were the ones with circular prong holes, which wouldn’t work with either of our computers. They did recommend a nearby Bic Camera store a couple of blocks away, just north of the Global Ring theatre square – which is kind of what I had been expected to be recommended to back in Nagano, so I shouldn’t be bothered by it.
So I told Daniel about the situation, and we made our way up to the camera place to take care of things before dinner. And I should mention that calling Bic a “camera” place is a bit of a misnomer, as they appear to deal in all manner of electronics, from phones to computers to home appliances, spanning some seven stories of retail space. Honestly, I was worried as to how we would find the proper adapter in all that space, especially given that we couldn’t ask for help thanks to the language barrier. But we did find a power strip on the fifth floor, and took it to the counter to purchase it.
And here’s where things got strange; the clerk started typing on her phone before handing it to me: ‘These are Japanese plugs,’ her text read. ‘Are you sure that’s what you want?’ After some finagling, I responded that I was looking for a 3-prong American plug, and she refused to sell me the power strip. Instead, she walked us up another flight of stairs, and directed us to some single plug adapters like we used to use for the island. This would certainly work, and it was a lot cheaper (even when buying two) than the power strip we were going to buy. I appreciate her efforts to sell us what we needed, rather than what we thought we wanted (although I’m not sure that what we were going to purchase wouldn’t have worked). Then again, perhaps she was as happy as I was to get away from her post, where the “Bi-kku Bi-kku Bi-kku Bi-kku, Bi-kku Ka-mara!” jingle was playing on a non-stop loop; the idea of working eight to twelve hours a day listening to that would drive me crazy.
We got back to our room with just enough time to get our new purchases (and literally by extension, our computers) plugged in before we had to set off for the lobby, where everyone was meeting before heading to the izakaya. This time, rather than having a ground floor entrance, with a staircase down to the main dining area, we took an elevator (well, actually two elevators, as there were too many of us to fit into a single car) to the fifth floor of the building our guide took us to. Once there, we put our shoes into lockers and padded down a hall to where we would be sharing our meal.
The room had a table just long enough to accommodate the whole group, set into a depression in the floor that allowed us to either sit down in the Western style or kneel at the table in the proper Japanese seiza position. To be honest, I don’t think any of us even considered the latter; instead, we all sat on the provided cushions rather than kneeling on them.
The thing about izakaya is that, while they do function as restaurants, serving multi-course meals one part at a time, their main focus is on the drinks they serve. I suspect the profit margin must be better on the drinks than on the food, but that’s just a theory on my part. On the other hand, this particular izakaya was offering all we could drink; I’m assuming it was a fixed price thing arranged as part of the tour, but I’d be curious to know how much it was per person. We have a few members of our group who are, as Isaiah spoke of, “heroes at drinking wine and champions of mixing drinks” who might very well have been loss leaders for the place, but I know that Daniel and I wouldn’t have gotten our money’s worth out of a place like this.
I know I always talk about wanting to linger over meals, but it’s rare that I’m actually able to do it. Having courses brought out one after another like this certainly serves to enforce such behavior; it also allows those who are drinking to let their libations settle and dissipate just a little before heading out onto the street. That being said, there were several of our number who were acting decidedly tipsy by the time we went to fetch our shoes and head downstairs some two hours after arriving, where our guide Miho led us to the karaoke bar we would finish the night out in.
In fact, I probably provided the one maudlin moment of the night in my music selection. I couldn’t find anything by Tally Hall or the Barenaked Ladies (I didn’t think to search for Bowling for Soup until later, when someone else picked one of theirs and I joined in), and when I discovered Billy Joel available, I signed up to present his “Lullaby.” As it was in the queue for several songs, I began to realize this wasn’t the time or place for such a piece, but I’d rather committed to it, so I soldiered on with it after all. Once I was done, one of the guys came up to me and said, “You know, knowing what I’ve learned about you, that was actually quite sweet.” Under the circumstances, I’ll take that for the compliment I’m sure he meant it as.
It was a high-volume, high-energy event – my turn at the mike notwithstanding – and while it grated occasionally on Daniel (and me) for those who couldn’t carry a tune in a wheelbarrow, it was a reasonably fun time. There were some – most of the girls, in particular – who had impressive pipes and could show off a little bit, too, so that made it tolerable even for one with perfect pitch like Daniel. But again, it wasn’t the sort of thing that we would have considered trying to do together on our own.
I’d say something about learning more about a person by the songs they choose and sing – certainly, I wound up being something of an open book – but that may be giving the moment too much credit. Still, there’s a reason this culture sees this as a bonding experience among co-workers and friend groups; I rather regret that this isn’t something that’s a little more common back at home. In any event, I’m glad we got the chance to do this; we’ll probably never have the chance again.
It’s as good a moment as any with which to close out the social portion of our tour; some folks are staying for a day or two (like us – some are even changing hotels entirely, as opposed to just rooms) while others are leaving for home straightaway, as duty of one form or another calls. And with that said, I’d ask for you to keep an eye on us, honey, and wish us luck, as we’re going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 