Before arriving to the Tokyo, I had no idea what to expect. Would I be blown away with centuries-old temples that dominated the local landscape or would it be skyscrapers and modern day towers that would reach for the skies high above me?
One thing I already knew, after spending a week in Japan, was that the Japanese may very well be the most polite people on earth. From every walk of life and every demographic of the country, the people of Japan seem to go out of their way to show courtesy and respect to others. Although I don't their understand the language in the slightest, I could see that the Japanese people were all very thankful to be alive and they wanted everyone around them to feel that way. And they treat you like it is truly a pleasure to have met you. Even while departing the bus after checking passports at the airport, the inspecting agent turns and bows to the riders, much as a student of martial arts bows to the Dojo before stepping off the mats. That's my kind of country and I can understand why some become so entranced with the Japanese culture and society. Especially when, in parts of America, kindness is quickly becoming a lost art and being replaced with a sense of entitlement.
The Maid
A maid in one of the hotels that I visited during my stay realized, after my asking her for a coffee filter after a day on the town, that she had forgotten to straighten my room. To me it was no big deal, but for her it was a crushing blow to the day as she darted back and forth, up and down the hallway to find clean towels, new toiletries and fresh packets of coffee filters. She then, sweat dripping from her forehead and a look of worry etched into her face, appeared at my door and broke into a profuse apology in her native tongue of which, to my dismay, I do not understand a word. The heartfelt apology included repeated, enthusiastic bowing gestures that did all to demonstrate the sincerity of her apologies.
The irony of that situation is that in America, where high tips are expected for bare-minimum service, it was refreshing to see someone taking great pride in their work; when a simple oversight on this woman's part was nearly an earth shattering event in her day, not because VFC couldn't make coffee, but because she prided herself in her job.
I only wish I could have spoken her language in order to communicate my appreciation.
The Train Ride
Already having discovered that the Japanese are a polite and friendly bunch, I looked to discover more of their culture on the train ride from Narita to Tokyo and, amid the controlled chaos that engulfs a train heading to Tokyo, I did.
Gadgets. I thought America loved its gadgets, but it looks like America has met it's match.
While conversations were plenty, and the occasional napper let out a startling snore, the gadgets dominated the scene.
And it wasn't just the youth on the train who were texting away on cell phones that looked like they'd put the iPod to shame; it was everyone. The NintendoDS, which I've never thought of as anything but entertainment for my daughter, served as a pleasant way to pass time for many on the train, as children and adults alike had their DS pens scrolling, entranced by whatever activity appeared on the tiny screens.
While VFC watched and observed, a good 40% of the people in my car were occupied with technology.
When I looked up from the gadgeteers, and peered out the window, the train had just descended into the tunnel that leads to Tokyo's main station.
Tokyo
There's nothing like the hustle and bustle of Manhattan at rush hour. Only it didn't take me too long to realize that I wasn't in Manhattan.
I should have noticed sooner than when the train doors opened that everyone around me had stashed the technology and put on their game faces because, once those doors slide open in Tokyo, all bets are off.
Navigating through the busy Tokyo station at rush hour takes either a keen sixth sense, if not some kind of appropriate radar device. It is definitely no place for VFC's leisurely stroll, as I soon discovered, because that stroll got me bounced around like a pinball as I attempted to take in the surroundings. As friendly, as the Japanese are, anyone who bumped me apologized as they rushed off, but I'm sure any number of them instinctively uttered the words, "Damn Tourist" to themselves; just as I have many times in Times Square at the tourists who, while crossing the busy intersection, are caught ogling skyscrapers as a taxi cab is barreling down on them.
Of note in that busy train station, a woman with a baby carriage heroically charged unafraid across heavy traffic, from one end of the arena to the other in an attempt, assuredly, to catch her train that would soon depart. I still don't know how she managed to avoid any serious collisions during her daring feat, but the crowd just swallowed her up and spit her out on the other side, unharmed.
As I ascended the staircase into the city, my anticipation got the best of me. That's always the best part of arriving to a new city for the first time, in my opinion, the first site, the first breath of city air or the first locals that you encounter. This may be why first impressions sometimes kill New York for a tourist, because you're just as likely to see a bum urinating on the sidewalk as anything else.
What really struck me as breathtaking about my first images of Tokyo, however, was not the magnificence of the city itself, but at how much the city so much resembled New York.
Everything from the hustle and bustle of the crowds, the businessmen and women on cell phones to the obnoxious taxi cabs utilizing every inch of space between two vehicles in order to be the first one in line at the red light; it was all so similar. If it wasn't Manhattan I was visiting, it surely was a close cousin.
I joined in the herd of pedestrians that gathered at each crosswalk and navigated my way around Tokyo, surely missing many of the highlights, but taking in as much as I could in short time.
I saw a mini fifth avenue,
and my credit card twitched in my pocket as I walked by this site as I might have caught a glimpse of wifey doing some damage in there:
Speaking of wifey, I noticed that the Japanese women love expensive high heels, many familiar to me from the personal collection of Mrs VFC . It was almost as if the entire city raided my wife's shoe closet to hit the town that day; and have no doubt that my wife's shoe closet holds enough heels to outfit the entire female population of the city of Tokyo.
Next I encountered what could only be considered a mini-times square:
Of course, some things speak the universal language:
I'm pretty sure that "Go-Go" means only one thing around the globe.
And if I didn't feel like I was in Manhattan before, this guy did his best to make me feel at home:
During my time in Tokyo I tried to eat some authentic Japanese food. When I first sat down and observed my salad, I'm pretty sure that I saw the fish and octopus in swimming around in the seafood salad.
Talk about fresh.
The soup I tried was a little more to my liking, although I'm not quite sure what was in it. The broth was delicious, but aside from the noodles and sprouts that were served in my swimming pool sized bowl, everything else could only be described as either crunchy or squishy.
On the way out of the city I had some Japanese curried rice with chicken. I was quite surprised, not knowing anything about the culture before this trip, at the amount of curry dishes I saw served at various locations around the city. My plate was as good as any, although some of those 'mystery' ingredients (squishy, crunchy) were also mixed in with my curry.
If anyone out there can help me out in identifying the mystery agreements, please do.
Unfortunately, my day in Tokyo had to end. I wasn't able to enjoy the nightlife that I'd heard so much about, or enjoy the finer delicacies of the city, but one thing can be assured- I'll be back.
Tired from a day of walking, I dragged myself back to the main station and trekked through the maze that lies within, following the pictures of the airplane to find my track.
As luck would have it, the Narita Express pulled up, which I knew would cut the trip back to the hotel in half.
I sat back in a nice comfy seat, closed my eyes and, as people typed away on their laptops around me, wondered if it actually was my wife that I spotted with five shopping bags leaving that Luis Vuitton store.
Some pics from around the city:
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