Tokyo Midtown was nicely lit-up this year. It was a cold night but people were out in droves taking in the sights.
Whoever designed it did a good job choosing the medium and the colors. Who would have thought optical fiber can be used thus? (Well, not me at least) The rounded structures reminded me of jellyfish at the Monterey Bay Aquarium...
Monday, December 31, 2007
Year-end revelry
December in Japan turned out to be the most intense partying month yet. It is the time of the Bounenkai (忘年会), where everyone ranging from long-lost friends to customers gather to dine, feast, chat and push the limits of one's liver. Luckily for me, I don't / can't drink so while every night saw me at a restaurant, I emerged largely unscathed except for the occasional tobacco-smoked-infused jacket (which incidentally is the thing I hate most about Japan).
Most of the food was good, especially Shabu-shabu (しゃぶしゃぶ) at a place called Shabu-sen (しゃぶせん) in Shibuya. But what I personally liked was getting the chance to know my coworkers better at the personal level. By this time (my 4th month), we have a cordial working relationship; people in the vicinity are no longer too shy to approach me for something. However it is outside of work where most Japanese coworkers loosen up, and in particular, once the alcohol touches the lips.
They seem to understand and remember that I don't drink, so Oolong Cha (乌龙茶) is automatically ordered for me nowadays. Being a foreigner and someone who doesn't need any external stimulus to go wacky, I get away with it :) And hence I get to watch in astonishment as my fellow revelers get addled as the evening wears on. Prim and proper ladies start to flirt shamelessly, serious and studious gents loosen their ties and reveal joke-ridden sides of their personalities which I had never met before. It was hilarious in a "Lost in Translation" kind of way because slurred and rapidfire speech made it more difficult for me, already struggling to decipher the complex casual forms, to understand all that was bandied and laughed about.
But their flushed and happy faces said it all; it was party time in Japan.
Most of the food was good, especially Shabu-shabu (しゃぶしゃぶ) at a place called Shabu-sen (しゃぶせん) in Shibuya. But what I personally liked was getting the chance to know my coworkers better at the personal level. By this time (my 4th month), we have a cordial working relationship; people in the vicinity are no longer too shy to approach me for something. However it is outside of work where most Japanese coworkers loosen up, and in particular, once the alcohol touches the lips.
They seem to understand and remember that I don't drink, so Oolong Cha (乌龙茶) is automatically ordered for me nowadays. Being a foreigner and someone who doesn't need any external stimulus to go wacky, I get away with it :) And hence I get to watch in astonishment as my fellow revelers get addled as the evening wears on. Prim and proper ladies start to flirt shamelessly, serious and studious gents loosen their ties and reveal joke-ridden sides of their personalities which I had never met before. It was hilarious in a "Lost in Translation" kind of way because slurred and rapidfire speech made it more difficult for me, already struggling to decipher the complex casual forms, to understand all that was bandied and laughed about.
But their flushed and happy faces said it all; it was party time in Japan.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Ba re- bo- ru
Until recently I've long since forgotten the thrill of volleyball--the thumps of the ball on the court echoing around the arena, the shouts of teammates calling out formations and encouragement to one another, the rapid-fire smash-wham! of a spiker's attack slamming off a blocker's outstretched arms and ricocheting back into the attacker's territory, the crash of a receiving player onto the floor as he/she dives at full-stretch to retrieve the ball at all costs... the excitement, the intensity of matches back in the day have been resurrected!
The past weekend my weekly volleyball session reached its zenith--my team became champions for the first time in four attempts so I was very happy :D A fitting finale to the last session of 2007.
Volleyball is a team sport and thus calls for not only individual skill but good teamwork. Seldom are the virtues of communication, cooperation and trust more emphasized but since new teams are formed every time, gelling into a cohesive unit is not easy either.
First one needs a good blend of attackers, receivers and of course, a decent setter--the person who sets up the ball for the spike. The setter determines the flow of the game and is almost always the difference between victory and defeat. Of coursee, as it's a team game, if done well, the constant shouting of encouragement, patting of the back, high-five-ing among teammates soon create a feel-good aura which boosts the team even more.
First prize this time? A box of juicy persimmons :D
The past weekend my weekly volleyball session reached its zenith--my team became champions for the first time in four attempts so I was very happy :D A fitting finale to the last session of 2007.
Volleyball is a team sport and thus calls for not only individual skill but good teamwork. Seldom are the virtues of communication, cooperation and trust more emphasized but since new teams are formed every time, gelling into a cohesive unit is not easy either.
First one needs a good blend of attackers, receivers and of course, a decent setter--the person who sets up the ball for the spike. The setter determines the flow of the game and is almost always the difference between victory and defeat. Of coursee, as it's a team game, if done well, the constant shouting of encouragement, patting of the back, high-five-ing among teammates soon create a feel-good aura which boosts the team even more.
First prize this time? A box of juicy persimmons :D
Sunday, December 02, 2007
"Anyone can cook"
Remember these words from the movie Ratatouille? I just watched it so it is pretty fresh in my mind. Funny how life throw little coincidences at one sometimes. You see, after volleyball today a friend and I went looking for a quick dinner before heading home.
The venue this week was someone's little brother's high school--don't ask me how they got the keys to the volleyball courts but as usual everything was well-organized. Fewer players this week, great games. I just love diving all over the court rescuing balls--that just means I'm still rusty...should really anticipate balls better. The best players move before the opposition hits the ball.
Anyway, the high school was in a residential neighborhood and my friend spotted this "Chanpon (チャンポン)" noodle restaurant a few blocks away. Chanpon is a type of soup noodles from Nagasaki (長崎), milky seafood broth with lots of veggies and err... seafood. Very nice on a cold day after sports. Chanpon is also famous for being a staple of sumo wrestlers (don't know if it's true).
The proprietor was an old man with somewhat unkempt shoulder-length hair and he barely said anything to us when we entered. If he had tattoos he would have been a perfect yakuza. Besides the menu, there were pictures of mushrooms and short descriptions of their virtues on the wall. Clearly he was passionate about mushrooms. According to some of the printed material, different types of mushrooms were good for cancer, high blood pressure, etc. (Are you cringing, C? :) )
Not that he was very communicative... even when we ordered two large orders of Chanpon he just grunted and set about cooking it. The kitchen was humble, bare, spartan, yet somehow he managed to fashion some pretty good food!. Our Chanpon was very good. The noodles: just the right kind of chewy-ness, the soup: not too oily/milky/salty (his secret: clams), the gyoza: browned in the right places. It was hard to believe that such good food can come from such a simple place and from the hands of such an unlikely-looking chef.
Truly, anyone can cook.
When I complimented him, he grunted thanks and even graced me with the shadow of a smile. He obviously knew his stuff 'cos he then regaled us with takes of how he got each ingredient right. How did he end up being what he is now? Did he sit down one day, weary from fights and power struggles in the underworld, and turned to food for salvation? Did he meet his true love while picking mushrooms to make chanpon but lost her because the lure of the yakuza was too strong? Maybe this restaurant is his way of atonement, his avenue to happiness after a life of hardship and bloodshed.
(No I didn't have any alcohol, if you're wondering)
In the words of Anton Ego, "Not everyone can be a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere."
The venue this week was someone's little brother's high school--don't ask me how they got the keys to the volleyball courts but as usual everything was well-organized. Fewer players this week, great games. I just love diving all over the court rescuing balls--that just means I'm still rusty...should really anticipate balls better. The best players move before the opposition hits the ball.
Anyway, the high school was in a residential neighborhood and my friend spotted this "Chanpon (チャンポン)" noodle restaurant a few blocks away. Chanpon is a type of soup noodles from Nagasaki (長崎), milky seafood broth with lots of veggies and err... seafood. Very nice on a cold day after sports. Chanpon is also famous for being a staple of sumo wrestlers (don't know if it's true).
The proprietor was an old man with somewhat unkempt shoulder-length hair and he barely said anything to us when we entered. If he had tattoos he would have been a perfect yakuza. Besides the menu, there were pictures of mushrooms and short descriptions of their virtues on the wall. Clearly he was passionate about mushrooms. According to some of the printed material, different types of mushrooms were good for cancer, high blood pressure, etc. (Are you cringing, C? :) )
Not that he was very communicative... even when we ordered two large orders of Chanpon he just grunted and set about cooking it. The kitchen was humble, bare, spartan, yet somehow he managed to fashion some pretty good food!. Our Chanpon was very good. The noodles: just the right kind of chewy-ness, the soup: not too oily/milky/salty (his secret: clams), the gyoza: browned in the right places. It was hard to believe that such good food can come from such a simple place and from the hands of such an unlikely-looking chef.
Truly, anyone can cook.
When I complimented him, he grunted thanks and even graced me with the shadow of a smile. He obviously knew his stuff 'cos he then regaled us with takes of how he got each ingredient right. How did he end up being what he is now? Did he sit down one day, weary from fights and power struggles in the underworld, and turned to food for salvation? Did he meet his true love while picking mushrooms to make chanpon but lost her because the lure of the yakuza was too strong? Maybe this restaurant is his way of atonement, his avenue to happiness after a life of hardship and bloodshed.
(No I didn't have any alcohol, if you're wondering)
In the words of Anton Ego, "Not everyone can be a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere."
Saturday, December 01, 2007
Rancid shark meat
(Copyright, The Guardian UK, 2006)
I enjoy the British sense of tragic and subtle comedy; Perhaps when it comes to food, they have little right to make snide comment about someone else's cuisine but this article is pretty interesting, especially when the author tries to use historical perspectives to explain why some foods turned out the way they are (horribly wrong?!).
Rotted shark, anyone?
Touring Europe, Feargus O'Sullivan has tasted some memorably repellent dishes. Here are his all-time 'favourites'
Friday May 26, 2006
The Guardian
Lithuania
Lithuanian cooking has all the subtlety of an injured caribou trying to hide in a cabinet full of glass figurines. It is a country with 100 ways of cooking potatoes - all of them dull - and Lithuanians loathe vegetables or spices coming between them and their carbohydrates. The national favourites are Cepelinai ("Zeppelins"), hefty airship-shaped grated and mashed potato dumplings stuffed with mince, then boiled. Despite their name, these are anything but airy. Instead, they cling glutinously to the bottom of the stomach. If these prove too ponderous, you could always try potato dumpling soup (meatless mini-zeppelins in hot milk), potato pudding (a brick of grated potato baked in the oven) or potato sausages (potatoes cooked in chitterling casings). Of course, there are also pork, mushrooms, and the occasional sprat to liven things up, but these tend to be equally self-effacing and bland. Perhaps, after centuries of domination by Russia and Poland, the Lithuanians reckon that if they keep their food uncovetably boring, their neighbours might just leave them alone.
Iceland
Do you have a taste for rancid blue cheese, but find it can be improved by the added tang of rotten fish? Then try Iceland's great speciality, Hakarl - putrefied shark. Hungry Icelanders found that the uremic acid that renders raw Greenland shark inedible could be removed by burying the meat in gravel for a few months, producing a sort of piscine Jerky with an ammoniac stench so powerful it could blow the doors off a Transit van. If your courage fails you, you could sample Iceland's milder delicacies, such as sheep's head jam, mutton smoked in its own dung, or rams' testicles. To be fair, Iceland's traditional fare reflects its punishing sub-arctic environment more than its inhabitants' warped taste buds. Sadly, though, when it comes to eating out, modern Icelanders have too often replaced stringy puffin or wind-dried cod with grindingly insipid versions of international staples: flabby frankfurters, cardboardy pizzas, admittedly wonderful sushi and sweet, bland curries that resemble nursery puddings. It is enough to make anyone long for a slice of smoked blubber.
Holland
The quintessential Dutch food experience is the FEBO snack automat. These are great walls of heated compartments, all clad in shiny chrome, brightly lit and impeccably clean. Drop a coin in the slot and the door of your chosen compartment flicks open, disgorging some lump of tasteless deep-fried mystery-meat apologetically sweating grease into its cardboard carton. Nowhere illustrates better the Dutch love of scrubbed cosiness and efficiency and their total indifference to the pleasures of the palate. This sense of culinary anticlimax is everywhere in the country. I will never forget buying what I hoped was a spicy pasty in Rotterdam, only to find that it was filled with nothing but white sauce. Likewise the day a Dutch flatmate cooked us what she swore was a delicious traditional dish, then brought in a pan of reconstituted powdered mash, kale and tinned frankfurters. Even the more appealing Dutch treats, such as double-fried chips with mayonnaise, are spoilt by lack of care: the oil for the second frying is often stale, while the mayo is a form of sickly, watery industrial run-off. Thankfully, the Dutch Indonesians have improved things a little by injecting much needed care and spice into the national diet.
Czech Republic
Lard-loving Czechs damn anything they find boring as "neslany, nemasly", which means "not salty, not fatty". Happily for them, little meeting that description finds its way on to their plates. Plonked goutily in the middle of central Europe's dumpling belt, the Czechs' take on bowel-paralysing Euro-stodge lacks the occasional delicacy of the Austrians or the tangy seasonings of the Poles. A typical Czech plateful consists of great slabs of greyish flesh slathered with fatty, tasteless gravy, mopped up with dumplings that taste like kitchen roll dipped in egg. Still, what Czech cooks lack in imagination, they compensate for with meat - lots of it. Telling a Czech you don't like meat is like expressing a dislike for oxygen. The bezmasa ("without meat") section of a typical menu does not contain vegetarian dishes, but ones that have an ever so slightly lower tonnage of meat in them that the rest of the card, as the Czechs think that eggs and vegetables must be lonely without pork fat to keep them company. That people with standards so low for anything savoury can produce such exquisite cakes and beer is one of Europe's great mysteries.
Britain
We still have little to be smug about. Although we pride ourselves on our little gastro-boom, the British still eat more rubbish than any other European country. Eastern European staples may be heavy, but at least they are made of food. Our diet, by contrast, is plumped up with over-processed industrial gunk, awash with flavour enhancers, stealthy trans-fats and hidden glucose syrup. Some enjoy a shriek of horror at Turkey Twizzlers, but middle-class bottled pasta sauces, pre-packed Thai curries and supposedly luxurious ice-creams are scarcely much purer. Such a junk-filled diet hardly surprises when good eating is thought so dispensable that a 20-minute lunch break is the national average. It is not as if traditional British food is worth the nostalgia we squander on it either. Cod is officially the world's blandest fish; Yorkshire Pudding tastes of nothing whatsoever; and a country that considers a Bath bun a sensuous treat must be dead from the waist down. Thank goodness for immigration.
I enjoy the British sense of tragic and subtle comedy; Perhaps when it comes to food, they have little right to make snide comment about someone else's cuisine but this article is pretty interesting, especially when the author tries to use historical perspectives to explain why some foods turned out the way they are (horribly wrong?!).
Rotted shark, anyone?
Touring Europe, Feargus O'Sullivan has tasted some memorably repellent dishes. Here are his all-time 'favourites'
Friday May 26, 2006
The Guardian
Lithuania
Lithuanian cooking has all the subtlety of an injured caribou trying to hide in a cabinet full of glass figurines. It is a country with 100 ways of cooking potatoes - all of them dull - and Lithuanians loathe vegetables or spices coming between them and their carbohydrates. The national favourites are Cepelinai ("Zeppelins"), hefty airship-shaped grated and mashed potato dumplings stuffed with mince, then boiled. Despite their name, these are anything but airy. Instead, they cling glutinously to the bottom of the stomach. If these prove too ponderous, you could always try potato dumpling soup (meatless mini-zeppelins in hot milk), potato pudding (a brick of grated potato baked in the oven) or potato sausages (potatoes cooked in chitterling casings). Of course, there are also pork, mushrooms, and the occasional sprat to liven things up, but these tend to be equally self-effacing and bland. Perhaps, after centuries of domination by Russia and Poland, the Lithuanians reckon that if they keep their food uncovetably boring, their neighbours might just leave them alone.
Iceland
Do you have a taste for rancid blue cheese, but find it can be improved by the added tang of rotten fish? Then try Iceland's great speciality, Hakarl - putrefied shark. Hungry Icelanders found that the uremic acid that renders raw Greenland shark inedible could be removed by burying the meat in gravel for a few months, producing a sort of piscine Jerky with an ammoniac stench so powerful it could blow the doors off a Transit van. If your courage fails you, you could sample Iceland's milder delicacies, such as sheep's head jam, mutton smoked in its own dung, or rams' testicles. To be fair, Iceland's traditional fare reflects its punishing sub-arctic environment more than its inhabitants' warped taste buds. Sadly, though, when it comes to eating out, modern Icelanders have too often replaced stringy puffin or wind-dried cod with grindingly insipid versions of international staples: flabby frankfurters, cardboardy pizzas, admittedly wonderful sushi and sweet, bland curries that resemble nursery puddings. It is enough to make anyone long for a slice of smoked blubber.
Holland
The quintessential Dutch food experience is the FEBO snack automat. These are great walls of heated compartments, all clad in shiny chrome, brightly lit and impeccably clean. Drop a coin in the slot and the door of your chosen compartment flicks open, disgorging some lump of tasteless deep-fried mystery-meat apologetically sweating grease into its cardboard carton. Nowhere illustrates better the Dutch love of scrubbed cosiness and efficiency and their total indifference to the pleasures of the palate. This sense of culinary anticlimax is everywhere in the country. I will never forget buying what I hoped was a spicy pasty in Rotterdam, only to find that it was filled with nothing but white sauce. Likewise the day a Dutch flatmate cooked us what she swore was a delicious traditional dish, then brought in a pan of reconstituted powdered mash, kale and tinned frankfurters. Even the more appealing Dutch treats, such as double-fried chips with mayonnaise, are spoilt by lack of care: the oil for the second frying is often stale, while the mayo is a form of sickly, watery industrial run-off. Thankfully, the Dutch Indonesians have improved things a little by injecting much needed care and spice into the national diet.
Czech Republic
Lard-loving Czechs damn anything they find boring as "neslany, nemasly", which means "not salty, not fatty". Happily for them, little meeting that description finds its way on to their plates. Plonked goutily in the middle of central Europe's dumpling belt, the Czechs' take on bowel-paralysing Euro-stodge lacks the occasional delicacy of the Austrians or the tangy seasonings of the Poles. A typical Czech plateful consists of great slabs of greyish flesh slathered with fatty, tasteless gravy, mopped up with dumplings that taste like kitchen roll dipped in egg. Still, what Czech cooks lack in imagination, they compensate for with meat - lots of it. Telling a Czech you don't like meat is like expressing a dislike for oxygen. The bezmasa ("without meat") section of a typical menu does not contain vegetarian dishes, but ones that have an ever so slightly lower tonnage of meat in them that the rest of the card, as the Czechs think that eggs and vegetables must be lonely without pork fat to keep them company. That people with standards so low for anything savoury can produce such exquisite cakes and beer is one of Europe's great mysteries.
Britain
We still have little to be smug about. Although we pride ourselves on our little gastro-boom, the British still eat more rubbish than any other European country. Eastern European staples may be heavy, but at least they are made of food. Our diet, by contrast, is plumped up with over-processed industrial gunk, awash with flavour enhancers, stealthy trans-fats and hidden glucose syrup. Some enjoy a shriek of horror at Turkey Twizzlers, but middle-class bottled pasta sauces, pre-packed Thai curries and supposedly luxurious ice-creams are scarcely much purer. Such a junk-filled diet hardly surprises when good eating is thought so dispensable that a 20-minute lunch break is the national average. It is not as if traditional British food is worth the nostalgia we squander on it either. Cod is officially the world's blandest fish; Yorkshire Pudding tastes of nothing whatsoever; and a country that considers a Bath bun a sensuous treat must be dead from the waist down. Thank goodness for immigration.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
How to run a football club
(Copyright: www.liverpoolfc.tv forum 2007)
Rafa choses the team to play each match and asks Rick if he can have a new player.
Rick writes the name down, mumbles a bit and puts the phone down. He then spends the rest of the afternoon in Tie Rack with his phone switched off.
Foster's gone on holiday and thinks Rick is in charge, but as we know Rick's in Tie Rack and Rafa's wondering what's going on.
So Rafa decides to sort out transfer deals himself and lines a few up. At the back of his mind he wishes Foster was around because he was quite helpful when he went to South America and came back with Lucas.
Meanwhile, Rick has is torn between two ties and can't decide which one's best.
Rafa's now growing impatient because he wants to tie up deals and both Foster and Rick have gone awol. This is when he makes his big mistake: he rings Tom because George was out playing golf.
Rick still can't choose a tie and it's got worse. The shop's closing for the night, he refused to leave and they've threatened to call the fuzz.
Tom's in the middle of buying some players for whatever strange sport they have across the pond when Rafa rings. He's having a bad day because he's just realised the new stadium for that franchise in Limeyland is going to cost a fortune and he's trying to buy another rounders player. So he loses his rag with Rafa and tells him to focus on coaching the players he's got and that they'll sort it out in December.
Rick's now explaining to the police why he won't leave Tie Rack. And he's really put their backs up by asking them to choose between a snazzy green and purple paisley number and a really cool Snoopy one.
Rafa tries to ring Rick and Foster, but they're both still missing. George is still playing golf. Rafa repeats Toms words repeatedly at the press conference.
Rick is now sat in the cells with neither tie. He wastes his one phone call ringing Tie Rack to ask them to put both ties to one side so he can come in and buy them both, but as they've now closed he has to leave a message on the answerphone.
Things are now going badly wrong. Hearing of the press conference, Tom rings Rick, Foster and George and gets no reply. Furious, he sends .tv a ranting email to issue a press statement.
The duty sergeant comes into Rick's cell to confiscate his tie. Rick goes bananas and gets sedated by blunt instrument.
Finally, George comes back from golf to find messages from Tom and Rafa on his answerphone. He rings Tom, who's now gone off to a sports bar to rant about Rafa, Rick, Foster and George.
Rick's still asleep, dreaming about dancing giraffes wearing really cool ties.
Finally, George catches up with Foster, who's been surfing in Hawaii. He tells him to get on the next plane back to Liverpool and find Rick.
Rick's now woken up and doesn't know where he is. The walls are soft and he's wearing a tight jacket that seems to have the arms tied together. Behind his back.
Finally, George and Tom have a chat. They try to solve the problem by issuing another press release, although Tom is still adamant that he wants Rafa's head. The press release merely makes the problems worse and pressure mounts.
The one bit of good news concerns Rick. He's finally been found by the club and after a lot of arguing, he's taken back to his office. Someone is sent to Tie Rack to buy both ties and he invites Rafa round to his office in the evening to see which one he should wear for the Porto game. He cracks a joke about the Porto tie being vital to the club's future and Rafa storms out, vowing to win everything just to show them all.
By now, George is trying to figure out how to get rid of Tom; Tom wants rid of Rafa; Rafa wishes he'd never seen Tom; Foster is trying to figure out how to get of Rick; Rafa's decided Foster's a better bet than Rick; George is just waiting till he gets to Liverpool so he can thrash Foster for going awol; and Foster, he's still looking for that wave.
And Rick? Well, he's got two new ties, so he's happy.
Rafa choses the team to play each match and asks Rick if he can have a new player.
Rick writes the name down, mumbles a bit and puts the phone down. He then spends the rest of the afternoon in Tie Rack with his phone switched off.
Foster's gone on holiday and thinks Rick is in charge, but as we know Rick's in Tie Rack and Rafa's wondering what's going on.
So Rafa decides to sort out transfer deals himself and lines a few up. At the back of his mind he wishes Foster was around because he was quite helpful when he went to South America and came back with Lucas.
Meanwhile, Rick has is torn between two ties and can't decide which one's best.
Rafa's now growing impatient because he wants to tie up deals and both Foster and Rick have gone awol. This is when he makes his big mistake: he rings Tom because George was out playing golf.
Rick still can't choose a tie and it's got worse. The shop's closing for the night, he refused to leave and they've threatened to call the fuzz.
Tom's in the middle of buying some players for whatever strange sport they have across the pond when Rafa rings. He's having a bad day because he's just realised the new stadium for that franchise in Limeyland is going to cost a fortune and he's trying to buy another rounders player. So he loses his rag with Rafa and tells him to focus on coaching the players he's got and that they'll sort it out in December.
Rick's now explaining to the police why he won't leave Tie Rack. And he's really put their backs up by asking them to choose between a snazzy green and purple paisley number and a really cool Snoopy one.
Rafa tries to ring Rick and Foster, but they're both still missing. George is still playing golf. Rafa repeats Toms words repeatedly at the press conference.
Rick is now sat in the cells with neither tie. He wastes his one phone call ringing Tie Rack to ask them to put both ties to one side so he can come in and buy them both, but as they've now closed he has to leave a message on the answerphone.
Things are now going badly wrong. Hearing of the press conference, Tom rings Rick, Foster and George and gets no reply. Furious, he sends .tv a ranting email to issue a press statement.
The duty sergeant comes into Rick's cell to confiscate his tie. Rick goes bananas and gets sedated by blunt instrument.
Finally, George comes back from golf to find messages from Tom and Rafa on his answerphone. He rings Tom, who's now gone off to a sports bar to rant about Rafa, Rick, Foster and George.
Rick's still asleep, dreaming about dancing giraffes wearing really cool ties.
Finally, George catches up with Foster, who's been surfing in Hawaii. He tells him to get on the next plane back to Liverpool and find Rick.
Rick's now woken up and doesn't know where he is. The walls are soft and he's wearing a tight jacket that seems to have the arms tied together. Behind his back.
Finally, George and Tom have a chat. They try to solve the problem by issuing another press release, although Tom is still adamant that he wants Rafa's head. The press release merely makes the problems worse and pressure mounts.
The one bit of good news concerns Rick. He's finally been found by the club and after a lot of arguing, he's taken back to his office. Someone is sent to Tie Rack to buy both ties and he invites Rafa round to his office in the evening to see which one he should wear for the Porto game. He cracks a joke about the Porto tie being vital to the club's future and Rafa storms out, vowing to win everything just to show them all.
By now, George is trying to figure out how to get rid of Tom; Tom wants rid of Rafa; Rafa wishes he'd never seen Tom; Foster is trying to figure out how to get of Rick; Rafa's decided Foster's a better bet than Rick; George is just waiting till he gets to Liverpool so he can thrash Foster for going awol; and Foster, he's still looking for that wave.
And Rick? Well, he's got two new ties, so he's happy.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
An organized twist to a familiar game
Today amidst studying and hanging out with friends, I attended a volleyball club event of sorts made up of both students and working professionals. Actually everyone plays for fun but the way we did it was so organized that I couldn't help comparing it to "American" and even "Singaporean" ways of organized sports activities.
The Japanese really take pains to emphasize group identity and fervor/passion in whatever they do. Why do I say that? Well at first I thought I was just going to join a pickup game like what happens in the States--whoever shows up will just join a random team and start playing. Nope. Before I arrived, my name was already registered in some appointed group leader's roster and they had take the trouble of dividing everyone into teams. We assembled in the court, two guys led a collective warm-up. For a fleeting second I thought I was back in my secondary school days in the volleyball club. Only that somehow I understood little of what the team captain was saying and resorted to "Monkey see monkey do."
Warmup over, time for the team talk. Everyone knew it was a recreational league, but still we huddled in a circle and discussed team tactics--who should play in which position, who prefers what type of movements, etc. Needless to say, I was duly impressed. One of the highlights was the "team pose/cheer". We concocted a specific dance routine; actually two--one for when a point was gained and the other for when a point was conceded! No matter what happens though, after each point, we huddle in a circle and the last person who touched the ball or should have touched the ball runs around giving everyone a high-five. Followed by the "win" or "loss" dance routine! Hahaha it was hilarious.
(Point gained)
*high-five*'s all round
"Yosh yosh yosh!" (fists pumping)
(Point lost)
*high-five*'s all round
"Bee one bee!" <- (at least that's what I heard) (clap your hand and clap the hand of the person on your left)
(Team-mate serving)
"XX-san!" (*clap*clap*)
"Goodo seervee!" (*clap*clap*)
Needless to say, I was grinning from ear to ear throughout. The games themselves were great fun. Everyone had fun and there was a box of chocolates for the winners. 4 teams rotated in-between matches and the fifth acted as the referee and linesmen. Superbly organized and efficient.
This Shanghai guy who was there told me how amazed he was when he first went. My Japanese friends all laughed and said this is pretty common. It is one thing knowing how important the group identity is here and seeing it in person.
Will go back next week.
The Japanese really take pains to emphasize group identity and fervor/passion in whatever they do. Why do I say that? Well at first I thought I was just going to join a pickup game like what happens in the States--whoever shows up will just join a random team and start playing. Nope. Before I arrived, my name was already registered in some appointed group leader's roster and they had take the trouble of dividing everyone into teams. We assembled in the court, two guys led a collective warm-up. For a fleeting second I thought I was back in my secondary school days in the volleyball club. Only that somehow I understood little of what the team captain was saying and resorted to "Monkey see monkey do."
Warmup over, time for the team talk. Everyone knew it was a recreational league, but still we huddled in a circle and discussed team tactics--who should play in which position, who prefers what type of movements, etc. Needless to say, I was duly impressed. One of the highlights was the "team pose/cheer". We concocted a specific dance routine; actually two--one for when a point was gained and the other for when a point was conceded! No matter what happens though, after each point, we huddle in a circle and the last person who touched the ball or should have touched the ball runs around giving everyone a high-five. Followed by the "win" or "loss" dance routine! Hahaha it was hilarious.
(Point gained)
*high-five*'s all round
"Yosh yosh yosh!" (fists pumping)
(Point lost)
*high-five*'s all round
"Bee one bee!" <- (at least that's what I heard) (clap your hand and clap the hand of the person on your left)
(Team-mate serving)
"XX-san!" (*clap*clap*)
"Goodo seervee!" (*clap*clap*)
Needless to say, I was grinning from ear to ear throughout. The games themselves were great fun. Everyone had fun and there was a box of chocolates for the winners. 4 teams rotated in-between matches and the fifth acted as the referee and linesmen. Superbly organized and efficient.
This Shanghai guy who was there told me how amazed he was when he first went. My Japanese friends all laughed and said this is pretty common. It is one thing knowing how important the group identity is here and seeing it in person.
Will go back next week.
Friday, November 23, 2007
Happy Thanksgiving!
Even though I've left the States, memories of happy Thanksgivings through the years linger on and I just want to wish all friends and family a very Happy Turkey Day!
Will get to eat turkey at a friend's place tonight and am looking forward to it!
Will get to eat turkey at a friend's place tonight and am looking forward to it!
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Jaunt to an olden capital
Probably nobody needs an introduction to Kyoto (京都), ancient capital of Japan and haven for cultural tourism. Memoirs of a Geisha, the Gion river, moonlit streets, temples are familiar images on Kyoto postcards. Backpackers abound and people from all over find ways to enjoy its food, onsen (hot springs) and overall relaxed atmosphere (compared to Tokyo anyway)
A half-man, half-machine friend of mine had a conference in nearby Nagoya (名古屋) and we decided to spend a few days in Kyoto catching up. So I took an evening bullet train or Shinkansen (新幹線) from Tokyo to Kyoto--about 2 hours but made rather uncomfortable by the fact that I had to stand almost the whole way, shifting occasionally to let people go to the bathroom.
First night we had a very good dinner of Kyoto cuisine, sort of a prix fixe menu in which a tongue-numbing fish was served with chazuke (お茶ずけ) or rice-in-tea. The unappreciative, nonchalant way we wolfed down the food probably didn't please the chef, but it was a pretty good meal.
A very good way to explore Kyoto is on bicycles so the following day we rented two from the hostel and set off for the temples. SB cycled the same way he drove--without regard for life and limb as he careened furiously along the roads. "We HAVE to get there before the crowds!" he insisted. Haha it was good to forget about everything else and simply relax with a good friend.
It was a crisp autumn day, perfect blue skies and fresh air. In the Imperial gardens, trees herald the onset of Fall with a chorus of flaming colors, their last hurrah for this year before sleeping for the winter. It felt good to leave the bustle of Tokyo behind and just be a tourist. Took lots of pictures, especially some of Kinkakji (金閣寺), one of which now serves as my cellphone's wallpaper.
1999 was the last time I saw Kyoto, and it was nice to renew acquaintances. Somehow I remember little of my previous trip but at the same time, I could hear echoes of myself trudging up the slope towards Kiyomizu Dera (清水寺). The restaurant with a turtle symbol whose picture I took for ltt back then seemed to be gone. A victim of the cutthroat food & beverage business, I guess.
Didn't have a chance to walk along the Gion river this time. Next time. Maybe on my next trip I'll even catch a glimpse of a Maiko-san (舞子さん) or trainee geisha.
A half-man, half-machine friend of mine had a conference in nearby Nagoya (名古屋) and we decided to spend a few days in Kyoto catching up. So I took an evening bullet train or Shinkansen (新幹線) from Tokyo to Kyoto--about 2 hours but made rather uncomfortable by the fact that I had to stand almost the whole way, shifting occasionally to let people go to the bathroom.
First night we had a very good dinner of Kyoto cuisine, sort of a prix fixe menu in which a tongue-numbing fish was served with chazuke (お茶ずけ) or rice-in-tea. The unappreciative, nonchalant way we wolfed down the food probably didn't please the chef, but it was a pretty good meal.
A very good way to explore Kyoto is on bicycles so the following day we rented two from the hostel and set off for the temples. SB cycled the same way he drove--without regard for life and limb as he careened furiously along the roads. "We HAVE to get there before the crowds!" he insisted. Haha it was good to forget about everything else and simply relax with a good friend.
It was a crisp autumn day, perfect blue skies and fresh air. In the Imperial gardens, trees herald the onset of Fall with a chorus of flaming colors, their last hurrah for this year before sleeping for the winter. It felt good to leave the bustle of Tokyo behind and just be a tourist. Took lots of pictures, especially some of Kinkakji (金閣寺), one of which now serves as my cellphone's wallpaper.
1999 was the last time I saw Kyoto, and it was nice to renew acquaintances. Somehow I remember little of my previous trip but at the same time, I could hear echoes of myself trudging up the slope towards Kiyomizu Dera (清水寺). The restaurant with a turtle symbol whose picture I took for ltt back then seemed to be gone. A victim of the cutthroat food & beverage business, I guess.
Didn't have a chance to walk along the Gion river this time. Next time. Maybe on my next trip I'll even catch a glimpse of a Maiko-san (舞子さん) or trainee geisha.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
How to fend off attention gently
LY aka The Fink uttered many pearls of wisdom over the years and one which she kindly imparted me today was for gently turning a girl down without making her feel bad. So if a girl keeps dropping hints like, "Oooh, that's a nice restaurant... if only you would take me there..." and you don't really feel like doing so, LY says:
:)
Apparently few things will put a girl more off than saying one has a boyfriend...
True or false? Let me know what you think!
well ... u cld tell her that u've tried that restaurant with ur bf .. and u liked it too, so if she wants, can join u and ur bf
:)
Apparently few things will put a girl more off than saying one has a boyfriend...
True or false? Let me know what you think!
Monday, November 19, 2007
Those electrons are flowing again
Ah... the electrifying rush of bits flowing in and out of the computer, of being connected to the outside world via 100Mbps optical fiber, of regaining my primary source of communication with friends and loved ones--the Internet :)
Kept thinking what the equivalent would be in times past. Maybe instead of a missing user account, messenger pigeons would be gone from their roost or perhaps the village postman would have fallen ill. My village would be cut off from the outside world...
In any case, I'm dying to talk about so many things, things that I suddenly think of on the train, words that pop up enroute to the yakitori store. Some reminders to myself here on what to write... so much to share, so little time:
- Roppongi sushi store
- Tokyo fashion
- Weather
- Takao san hiking
- Volleyball
- Work
Kept thinking what the equivalent would be in times past. Maybe instead of a missing user account, messenger pigeons would be gone from their roost or perhaps the village postman would have fallen ill. My village would be cut off from the outside world...
In any case, I'm dying to talk about so many things, things that I suddenly think of on the train, words that pop up enroute to the yakitori store. Some reminders to myself here on what to write... so much to share, so little time:
- Roppongi sushi store
- Tokyo fashion
- Weather
- Takao san hiking
- Volleyball
- Work
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Tokyo Motor Show 2007
One of the things Japan is known for is undoubtedly her automotive industry. I'm not too interested in cars, except for my favourite WRX of course :) but friends and coworkers kept asking me to go check out the once-in-2-years Tokyo Motor Show so finally on a rainy Saturday, a few of us went down to Makuhari (幕張) near Chiba (千葉).
Pictures speak louder than words. I liked Toyota's personal transporter (Segway clone?), the latest WRX, and the motorcycles.
Pictures speak louder than words. I liked Toyota's personal transporter (Segway clone?), the latest WRX, and the motorcycles.
Friday, November 02, 2007
Strange encounters of the restaurant kind
I promised to relate how some friends and I met Angel Wong, an actress / travel show host / singer ("Search for me in Wikipedia," she assured us) and her manager so here it is; a tale set in a restaurant under some train tracks in Yurakucho (有楽町), accompnied by some happy Japanese salarymen.
Tokyo's need for space is such as restaurants spring up everywhere, in this case, the JR Yurakucho station grew an extension and it became a restaurant. ZZ was on his monthly trip to Tokyo from Nagoya so we arranged to meet for dinner. Neither of us knew the area well so we picked a random table at that random restaurant ("Wah, never eaten under the train tracks before!") and started ordering. IC was to join us later.
Before long, two middle-aged salarymen in suits came along and sat at the next table. Since they were still dry, they still looked rather serious and tired. ZZ and I happily caught up and talked about the good old days.
It was probably around the 4th course when two girls came along and sat one table over. So it was them, the salarymen, and us. Both looked like students and one spoke in an Australian/American accent. One was more dressed up and the other bore the expression of a person who knows that the other person whom she hangs out with gets all the attention.
The two girls started ordering, and that was when the salarymen started paying attention, because it became apparent that (1) they didn't speak Japanese and (2) they were tourists. Naturally ZZ told me, "hey give them a hand lah" so I went over and helped them order some sashimi and sake ("Tell the waitress we want sake that goes with the sashimi ok?" the more dressed-up girl said.).
At this point the alcohol had boosted their courage so the salarymen loosened up and started chatting to everyone, including us. They were amused by the fact that we were all foreigners and wanted ZZ, IC and me to translate between them and the other two girls.
I'm like, great... I get to be an interpreter for two middle-aged salarymen hitting on two tourists. The commotion started when they found out that the dressed-up girl was a TV personality in Malaysia and had hosted a travel program that introduced the Tohoku (東北) region of Japan. You have no idea how many times I was asked to re-confirm the fact that "Oi, oi, is she really a celebrity?!" But it was all in good fun really. The other girl turned out to be her manager.
So yeah, go ahead and look "Angel Wong" (very Hong Kong-ish name eh?) on Google. Must be a tough life, being a celebrity...
Tokyo's need for space is such as restaurants spring up everywhere, in this case, the JR Yurakucho station grew an extension and it became a restaurant. ZZ was on his monthly trip to Tokyo from Nagoya so we arranged to meet for dinner. Neither of us knew the area well so we picked a random table at that random restaurant ("Wah, never eaten under the train tracks before!") and started ordering. IC was to join us later.
Before long, two middle-aged salarymen in suits came along and sat at the next table. Since they were still dry, they still looked rather serious and tired. ZZ and I happily caught up and talked about the good old days.
It was probably around the 4th course when two girls came along and sat one table over. So it was them, the salarymen, and us. Both looked like students and one spoke in an Australian/American accent. One was more dressed up and the other bore the expression of a person who knows that the other person whom she hangs out with gets all the attention.
The two girls started ordering, and that was when the salarymen started paying attention, because it became apparent that (1) they didn't speak Japanese and (2) they were tourists. Naturally ZZ told me, "hey give them a hand lah" so I went over and helped them order some sashimi and sake ("Tell the waitress we want sake that goes with the sashimi ok?" the more dressed-up girl said.).
At this point the alcohol had boosted their courage so the salarymen loosened up and started chatting to everyone, including us. They were amused by the fact that we were all foreigners and wanted ZZ, IC and me to translate between them and the other two girls.
I'm like, great... I get to be an interpreter for two middle-aged salarymen hitting on two tourists. The commotion started when they found out that the dressed-up girl was a TV personality in Malaysia and had hosted a travel program that introduced the Tohoku (東北) region of Japan. You have no idea how many times I was asked to re-confirm the fact that "Oi, oi, is she really a celebrity?!" But it was all in good fun really. The other girl turned out to be her manager.
So yeah, go ahead and look "Angel Wong" (very Hong Kong-ish name eh?) on Google. Must be a tough life, being a celebrity...
Thursday, November 01, 2007
Been out of it for a bit...
My apologies, dear readers for not making updates since Oct 17. The reason being that I moved to a new apartment and have been struck down by a nasty virus. Despite being in one of the more technologically-advanced countries, Internet access comes 3 weeks after one applies for it... albeit it will be optical fiber-based which gives me a cool 100MBit/sec duplex link.
I'm risking my livelihood by secretly blogging at work, so please understand and I promise I will post updates once Internet arrives on Nov 8. As much as I browse the web on my Mitsubishi D904i cellphone nowadays, it is still rather cumbersome to blog on a tiny screen ;)
Preview:
- Rave about being able to see Mt Fuji from my apartment on a clear day!
- Rant about buying furniture
- Walking around Shimokitazawa--nice area full of little shops and cafes
- Hiking Takao-san
- Getting a bank account in Japan
I'm risking my livelihood by secretly blogging at work, so please understand and I promise I will post updates once Internet arrives on Nov 8. As much as I browse the web on my Mitsubishi D904i cellphone nowadays, it is still rather cumbersome to blog on a tiny screen ;)
Preview:
- Rave about being able to see Mt Fuji from my apartment on a clear day!
- Rant about buying furniture
- Walking around Shimokitazawa--nice area full of little shops and cafes
- Hiking Takao-san
- Getting a bank account in Japan
小学生造句
I wish I had been so creative...
1.题目: 原来
小朋友写: 原来他是我爸爸。
老师评语: 妈妈关切一下
14.题目: 好 ... 又好..
小朋友写: 妈妈的腿 ,好细又好粗...
老师评语: 那到底是细还是粗？
15.题目: 陆陆续续
小朋友写 : 下班了，爸爸陆陆续续的回来。
老师评语: 你到底有几个爸爸呀?
22.题目: 谢谢....因为 ......
小朋友写: 我要谢谢妈妈,因为她每天都帮我写作业......
老师评语: 原来你的作业是妈妈写的!!!!!!!
23.题目: 难过
小朋友写: 我家门前有条水沟很难过。
老师评语: 老师更难过......
26.题目 : 天才
小朋友写: 我３天才洗一次澡。
老师评语: 要每天洗才干净~~
27.題目 : 一… 便…
小朋友写: 哥哥一吃完饭，就大便。
老师评语: 造句不要乱造...
31.題目: 又.....又.....
小朋友寫: 我的妈妈又矮又高又瘦又肥。
老师评语: 你妈妈......是怪物吗?
34.好吃
小朋友：好吃个屁
老师：………
35.况且
小朋友：一辆火车经过，况且况且况且况且．．．．．
老师：……………
1.题目: 原来
小朋友写: 原来他是我爸爸。
老师评语: 妈妈关切一下
14.题目: 好 ... 又好..
小朋友写: 妈妈的腿 ,好细又好粗...
老师评语: 那到底是细还是粗？
15.题目: 陆陆续续
小朋友写 : 下班了，爸爸陆陆续续的回来。
老师评语: 你到底有几个爸爸呀?
22.题目: 谢谢....因为 ......
小朋友写: 我要谢谢妈妈,因为她每天都帮我写作业......
老师评语: 原来你的作业是妈妈写的!!!!!!!
23.题目: 难过
小朋友写: 我家门前有条水沟很难过。
老师评语: 老师更难过......
26.题目 : 天才
小朋友写: 我３天才洗一次澡。
老师评语: 要每天洗才干净~~
27.題目 : 一… 便…
小朋友写: 哥哥一吃完饭，就大便。
老师评语: 造句不要乱造...
31.題目: 又.....又.....
小朋友寫: 我的妈妈又矮又高又瘦又肥。
老师评语: 你妈妈......是怪物吗?
34.好吃
小朋友：好吃个屁
老师：………
35.况且
小朋友：一辆火车经过，况且况且况且况且．．．．．
老师：……………
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Visible and invisible languages
As I fumble through the intricacies of this foreign tongue, I marvel at how human beings express themselves. Verbal communication, written words, gestures, how body language is so often subconsciously interpreted and yet consciously overlooked. Don't believe it's just Japanese culture that has many hidden convoluted meanings. One just has to look out for signs in every culture.
Often I hear rapid-fire words coming out from someone talking to me, and while I can't make out every single word or process every character fast enough, somehow through a combination of luck / observation / guess-by-context, I manage to utter a reasonable reply.
At the real-estate agent, I was lucky to escape without causing them to keel over from trying their best not to laugh at the silly foreigner and his kindergarten vocabulary. But hey, somehow I got my points across! 2nd floor and above, at least one tatami room, not facing east-west, etc.
Other times, I instinctively say something safe / stupid and laugh at myself silently afterwards for messing up :)
E.g. few weeks ago, at a restaurant:
Cashier: Thank you O magnificent guest for your distinguished patronage.
Me: Err... no I don't want it, thanks.
Cashier: (smiles embarrassingly because she thought she'd embarrassed me)
At the neighbourhood supermarket:
Cashier: (After keying in all the items) Do you have a points card, sir?
Me: Sorry?
Cashier: Do you have a points card?
Me: No I don't need chopsticks, thanks.
Cashier: (smiles patronizingly and wishes I just pay up and go)
After a while, the words and gestures just fall naturally into place. Now, haha, no problemo dudes. Bring 'em on. Let me unleash my 日本語! ;)
I really believe understanding one another's culture and removing one's social barriers is key to making the world a friendlier place.
Often I hear rapid-fire words coming out from someone talking to me, and while I can't make out every single word or process every character fast enough, somehow through a combination of luck / observation / guess-by-context, I manage to utter a reasonable reply.
At the real-estate agent, I was lucky to escape without causing them to keel over from trying their best not to laugh at the silly foreigner and his kindergarten vocabulary. But hey, somehow I got my points across! 2nd floor and above, at least one tatami room, not facing east-west, etc.
Other times, I instinctively say something safe / stupid and laugh at myself silently afterwards for messing up :)
E.g. few weeks ago, at a restaurant:
Cashier: Thank you O magnificent guest for your distinguished patronage.
Me: Err... no I don't want it, thanks.
Cashier: (smiles embarrassingly because she thought she'd embarrassed me)
At the neighbourhood supermarket:
Cashier: (After keying in all the items) Do you have a points card, sir?
Me: Sorry?
Cashier: Do you have a points card?
Me: No I don't need chopsticks, thanks.
Cashier: (smiles patronizingly and wishes I just pay up and go)
After a while, the words and gestures just fall naturally into place. Now, haha, no problemo dudes. Bring 'em on. Let me unleash my 日本語! ;)
I really believe understanding one another's culture and removing one's social barriers is key to making the world a friendlier place.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Autumn: Time to nourish the palate
(Shinjuku 新宿) One of many similar-looking shops vying for one's attention, Kushiden (串でん) actually has 2 stores within 50 meters of each other in bustling Shinjuku. The interior was smoky and filled with young people chatting and nibbling at grilled meat on sticks. Satay, kebab, whatever it's called, succulent morsels of meat and veggies skewered on sticks and slowly cooked over a charcoal fire are a welcome meal at any time.
(Yoyogi 代々木) One of those places tucked away in a quiet neighbourhood. Owner drives a gigantic Cadillac and fishes for a living. Okonomiyaki literally means "Grill what you like" and is apparently a poor man's food--greasy and filling. Skilfully done by our friendly waitress, the appetizers and okonomiyaki were tasty and comforting. Accentuated by great conversation, my first cold beer (1/3 glass anyway) in a few years, new friends--what more can one ask for?
(Shibuya 渋谷) A bit closer to China this time; a Mongolian hotpot chain--ideal for a chilly autumn evening.
(Shibuya 渋谷) Autumn special at a cream puff chain. Very popular among the ladies apparently because I was the only guy in line. But skhoo, if you are looking, the pumpkin flavour won't stick around forever ;)
Ate one for old times' sake. Cheers.
(Yoyogi 代々木) One of those places tucked away in a quiet neighbourhood. Owner drives a gigantic Cadillac and fishes for a living. Okonomiyaki literally means "Grill what you like" and is apparently a poor man's food--greasy and filling. Skilfully done by our friendly waitress, the appetizers and okonomiyaki were tasty and comforting. Accentuated by great conversation, my first cold beer (1/3 glass anyway) in a few years, new friends--what more can one ask for?
(Shibuya 渋谷) A bit closer to China this time; a Mongolian hotpot chain--ideal for a chilly autumn evening.
(Shibuya 渋谷) Autumn special at a cream puff chain. Very popular among the ladies apparently because I was the only guy in line. But skhoo, if you are looking, the pumpkin flavour won't stick around forever ;)
Ate one for old times' sake. Cheers.
Clean up the world a little bit, starting with Tokyo
Went to Odaiba (お台場) for a park clean-up activity organized by a friend's company. Pretty cool, not just because I got to do something for the environment, but also because I got to ride the Yurikamome (ゆりかもめ) subway line for the first time. It's an above-ground subway that circles a large portion of Tokyo Bay, providing riders with very good waterfront views.
We went to the designated park in the morning, got equipped (long cafeteria tongs, gloves and trashbags--divided into burnable (燃える), non-burnable (燃えない) and recyclable (資源) garbage of course, and split up into teams. Each team combed a section of the park for an hour, fighting mosquitoes and picking up anything that looked out of place. The people in my team were a mix of Americans, Japanese and Chinese and had all spent time in the US, so we had a pretty fun time chatting while we worked. Not really back-breaking work, 'cos it was only for a hour+.
Conclusion: 90% of burnable trash consisted of cigarette butts *surprise*surprise*. The rest: cans, plastic forks, chopsticks. Didn't find any used condoms though, fortunately. I remember a similar event in Pittsburgh in which a lot of interesting items were found in the parks. The most interesting item found during this event was a baseball bat. However there wasn't much trash to begin with. Nevertheless if there are more public trashcans in general, maybe there will be less litter. Anyway I heard that many trashcans were removed from Tokyo streets after the sarin gas attacks a few years ago.
Official report: click here
The company was good, lunch was provided, got a free tee-shirt and I got to contribute a little something to society; What more can one ask for on a lazy Saturday morning?
We went to the designated park in the morning, got equipped (long cafeteria tongs, gloves and trashbags--divided into burnable (燃える), non-burnable (燃えない) and recyclable (資源) garbage of course, and split up into teams. Each team combed a section of the park for an hour, fighting mosquitoes and picking up anything that looked out of place. The people in my team were a mix of Americans, Japanese and Chinese and had all spent time in the US, so we had a pretty fun time chatting while we worked. Not really back-breaking work, 'cos it was only for a hour+.
Conclusion: 90% of burnable trash consisted of cigarette butts *surprise*surprise*. The rest: cans, plastic forks, chopsticks. Didn't find any used condoms though, fortunately. I remember a similar event in Pittsburgh in which a lot of interesting items were found in the parks. The most interesting item found during this event was a baseball bat. However there wasn't much trash to begin with. Nevertheless if there are more public trashcans in general, maybe there will be less litter. Anyway I heard that many trashcans were removed from Tokyo streets after the sarin gas attacks a few years ago.
Official report: click here
The company was good, lunch was provided, got a free tee-shirt and I got to contribute a little something to society; What more can one ask for on a lazy Saturday morning?
Monday, October 08, 2007
Please, I just need a place to stay
The common ways of apartment hunting in Tokyo are rather tedious and not very welcoming to foreigners, in my opinion. Not that I mean to gripe about everything I'm not used to, but the process I'm going through is just inefficient. Of course somehow it has worked for gazillions of people.
In general, one comes up with a location depending on, say, commute time from the office, or a particular district. Then a realtor is contacted--usually there are several conveniently located around each train station. Don't bother searching online for the moment as good apartments come and go so fast that realtors don't have time to enter them into a computer. Plus under the impression that only affluent foreigners go online to look for apartments, the places one finds via a realtor's website tend to be more expensive.
My criteria:
- at least 10 minutes' walk from the nearest train station (for exercise--will probably regret it once the rains and the scorching summer heat sets in)
- at least 2nd floor and above. Just don't relish the thought of every Tomi, Dickeshi and Hariko walking past my front door.
- in-room washer facilities. Most apartments are unfurnished...
- room for at least 1 guest. For all you guys who are coming to visit :)
Fees:
- Monthly:
- rent(賃料): expect to cough up ~USD1000 for a decent place 30 minutes from downtown Tokyo.
- maintenance fee(管理費) which ranges from 0-10% depending on the landlord's whims.
- One-time (typically):
- deposit/security money(敷金) equal to 1-2 mths' rent.
Supposedly refundable at the end of one's lease if the apartment remains in good condition, but one should not expect to see this sum again.
- key money(礼金) to the tune of 1-2 mths' rent again.
This is a total scam concocted by some greedy arse on the pretext of showing one's appreciation to the landlord for the to-die-for privilege of renting the premises.
At the realtor's office, the tedious task of sifting through sheets of apartment datasheets to find a suitable one begins. The agents can only help narrow down to a particular folder. If one is lucky, a similar recent transaction triggers some memory and the agent manages a "Have I got the perfect place for you!"
Generally they're nice, but do be careful of being steered towards something that they deliberately planned for you, based on whatever decision process they might have done through. (Or am I too cynical?)
After shortlisting a few dozen possiblities, they'll call the landlords to verify if the apartments (or 物件) are available. Expect some to be snatched up already. If one is a foreigner, don't be surprised if many landlords immediately reject one outright. "Sorry, I don't want to deal with foreigners." That's right, no matter how many years one has lived in Japan, or if one is the Prince of Kalimantan. People aren't xenophobic, just scared.
Haha by now you can tell that I am not too thrilled nevertheless...
Finally after some time, an agent escorts one to the apartment of interest to have a look. That's usually the deciding factor, but it's not over yet! That's when the _real_ application starts. Fill out a few forms, request proof of employment and of course, the mysterious guarantor (保証人) which every renter requires in case the tenant skips town and the landlord is bereft of that month's rent and damages. Problem is, only Japanese citizens can be guarantors so what is a foreigner to do? Answer: Find a good Japanese friend or hire a guarantor company for the princely sum of 1 mth's rent.
After going to all that trouble, there's still the possibility that the landlord might nit-pick at something and reject one's application.
Dang.... renting an apartment in Japan is neither the cheapest nor simplest of tasks.
I'm seriously considering starting a rental business without all these requirements.
Wish me luck! Hopefully I can get a suitable apartment this week.
In general, one comes up with a location depending on, say, commute time from the office, or a particular district. Then a realtor is contacted--usually there are several conveniently located around each train station. Don't bother searching online for the moment as good apartments come and go so fast that realtors don't have time to enter them into a computer. Plus under the impression that only affluent foreigners go online to look for apartments, the places one finds via a realtor's website tend to be more expensive.
My criteria:
- at least 10 minutes' walk from the nearest train station (for exercise--will probably regret it once the rains and the scorching summer heat sets in)
- at least 2nd floor and above. Just don't relish the thought of every Tomi, Dickeshi and Hariko walking past my front door.
- in-room washer facilities. Most apartments are unfurnished...
- room for at least 1 guest. For all you guys who are coming to visit :)
Fees:
- Monthly:
- rent(賃料): expect to cough up ~USD1000 for a decent place 30 minutes from downtown Tokyo.
- maintenance fee(管理費) which ranges from 0-10% depending on the landlord's whims.
- One-time (typically):
- deposit/security money(敷金) equal to 1-2 mths' rent.
Supposedly refundable at the end of one's lease if the apartment remains in good condition, but one should not expect to see this sum again.
- key money(礼金) to the tune of 1-2 mths' rent again.
This is a total scam concocted by some greedy arse on the pretext of showing one's appreciation to the landlord for the to-die-for privilege of renting the premises.
At the realtor's office, the tedious task of sifting through sheets of apartment datasheets to find a suitable one begins. The agents can only help narrow down to a particular folder. If one is lucky, a similar recent transaction triggers some memory and the agent manages a "Have I got the perfect place for you!"
Generally they're nice, but do be careful of being steered towards something that they deliberately planned for you, based on whatever decision process they might have done through. (Or am I too cynical?)
After shortlisting a few dozen possiblities, they'll call the landlords to verify if the apartments (or 物件) are available. Expect some to be snatched up already. If one is a foreigner, don't be surprised if many landlords immediately reject one outright. "Sorry, I don't want to deal with foreigners." That's right, no matter how many years one has lived in Japan, or if one is the Prince of Kalimantan. People aren't xenophobic, just scared.
Haha by now you can tell that I am not too thrilled nevertheless...
Finally after some time, an agent escorts one to the apartment of interest to have a look. That's usually the deciding factor, but it's not over yet! That's when the _real_ application starts. Fill out a few forms, request proof of employment and of course, the mysterious guarantor (保証人) which every renter requires in case the tenant skips town and the landlord is bereft of that month's rent and damages. Problem is, only Japanese citizens can be guarantors so what is a foreigner to do? Answer: Find a good Japanese friend or hire a guarantor company for the princely sum of 1 mth's rent.
After going to all that trouble, there's still the possibility that the landlord might nit-pick at something and reject one's application.
Dang.... renting an apartment in Japan is neither the cheapest nor simplest of tasks.
I'm seriously considering starting a rental business without all these requirements.
Wish me luck! Hopefully I can get a suitable apartment this week.
Sunday, October 07, 2007
Visiting home
Kind of an oxy-moron, isn't it--"Visiting home". In some ways, even though I call Singapore "home", the thought of going back permanently has not yet occurred to me. Still it's great to be back briefly. For once, I can be part of the "Citizens" queue/line at the airport and be the intended recipient of the big "Welcome home" banner.
Dear Mama and Papa, as always, waited patiently for me just outside the baggage claim area, even though it was 12:30am on a working Monday.
Had an episode at Narita airport with a tourist on his way to Singapore while we were waiting to board the same flight. Basically he was late by a day for his planned arrival to Singapore and wanted to contact his hotel to make sure they didn't cancel his reservation. So I loaned him my laptop and called the hotel via Skype on his behalf since he couldn't speak English that well. Unfortunately they canceled his reservation so he had to pay extra for a new room, so he wasn't very happy and asked me to help him call his travel agent in the US when we reach Singapore. Naturally I agreed and arranged with him to meet at the baggage claim in Changi. But when I retrieved my luggage, he was nowhere to be found... and feeling bad that my parents were missing out on sleep, I decided that Mr. Cruz should have no trouble in tourist-friendly Singapore and left without attempting to find him. Sorry...
Anyway, once home, Mama plied me with mooncake and Vitagen before shooing me off to bed. Ah... the familiar ceiling, the scent of the furniture, the light from the streetlamps tentatively peeking into the room... during JC (high school) days, many times have I stayed awake briefly after turning off the lights, enjoying the solitude and admiring the night sky. There's this jigsaw puzzle I assembled long ago which has the night sky and all its constellations in glow-in-the-dark paint. Always wanted to put it up on the ceiling but Pa would've gone ballistic if I had done so :) It's probably still lying somewhere in the house, waiting for a chance to show another fascinated child its starry magic.
I enjoyed every such night during the week, and filled my days with an endless array of local food. What fun it was to go to a hawker center and just walk past the stalls, like a lion calmly surveying its territory, I strolled languidly up to a signboard that caught my fancy, and ordered whatever they had to offer. Can never get tired of the variety; every plate a surprise, every bowl of _whatever_ a welcome delicacy that I renewed acquaintances with. Yum yum!
My stomach wasn't so happy of course. After weeks of Japanese food, something about the famous Changi Village nasi lemak put it off balance and I had to endure a constant tummyache while continuing to stuff myself silly throughout the week. And I barely scratched the surface! Chicken rice (thrice), ban jian kuay, nasi lemak (twice), sugar cane juice (frothing and fresh--twice), soya bean (yes, soyA bean) milk, yong tau foo, chui kuay, ban mian, Eurasian cai fan, nasi padang, satay and last but not least, Mum's cooking. Four different types of chilli I believe: assam chilli, chicken rice chilli, sambal chilli, freshly-cut chilli, chui kuay chilli, yong tau foo chilli.
Home food; funny I never miss it while away but stepping into a hawker center upon return just triggers a irresistible instinct to sample every little thing. Considering that the weather typically destroys one appetite the first 3 days, that is no mean achievement :)
Just remember the following: The typical Singaporean talks about the next meal while he or she is the middle of the current one.
Dear Mama and Papa, as always, waited patiently for me just outside the baggage claim area, even though it was 12:30am on a working Monday.
Had an episode at Narita airport with a tourist on his way to Singapore while we were waiting to board the same flight. Basically he was late by a day for his planned arrival to Singapore and wanted to contact his hotel to make sure they didn't cancel his reservation. So I loaned him my laptop and called the hotel via Skype on his behalf since he couldn't speak English that well. Unfortunately they canceled his reservation so he had to pay extra for a new room, so he wasn't very happy and asked me to help him call his travel agent in the US when we reach Singapore. Naturally I agreed and arranged with him to meet at the baggage claim in Changi. But when I retrieved my luggage, he was nowhere to be found... and feeling bad that my parents were missing out on sleep, I decided that Mr. Cruz should have no trouble in tourist-friendly Singapore and left without attempting to find him. Sorry...
Anyway, once home, Mama plied me with mooncake and Vitagen before shooing me off to bed. Ah... the familiar ceiling, the scent of the furniture, the light from the streetlamps tentatively peeking into the room... during JC (high school) days, many times have I stayed awake briefly after turning off the lights, enjoying the solitude and admiring the night sky. There's this jigsaw puzzle I assembled long ago which has the night sky and all its constellations in glow-in-the-dark paint. Always wanted to put it up on the ceiling but Pa would've gone ballistic if I had done so :) It's probably still lying somewhere in the house, waiting for a chance to show another fascinated child its starry magic.
I enjoyed every such night during the week, and filled my days with an endless array of local food. What fun it was to go to a hawker center and just walk past the stalls, like a lion calmly surveying its territory, I strolled languidly up to a signboard that caught my fancy, and ordered whatever they had to offer. Can never get tired of the variety; every plate a surprise, every bowl of _whatever_ a welcome delicacy that I renewed acquaintances with. Yum yum!
My stomach wasn't so happy of course. After weeks of Japanese food, something about the famous Changi Village nasi lemak put it off balance and I had to endure a constant tummyache while continuing to stuff myself silly throughout the week. And I barely scratched the surface! Chicken rice (thrice), ban jian kuay, nasi lemak (twice), sugar cane juice (frothing and fresh--twice), soya bean (yes, soyA bean) milk, yong tau foo, chui kuay, ban mian, Eurasian cai fan, nasi padang, satay and last but not least, Mum's cooking. Four different types of chilli I believe: assam chilli, chicken rice chilli, sambal chilli, freshly-cut chilli, chui kuay chilli, yong tau foo chilli.
Home food; funny I never miss it while away but stepping into a hawker center upon return just triggers a irresistible instinct to sample every little thing. Considering that the weather typically destroys one appetite the first 3 days, that is no mean achievement :)
Just remember the following: The typical Singaporean talks about the next meal while he or she is the middle of the current one.
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Ohagi (おはぎ)
What I ate for 中秋節--"moonviewing" (月見) mochi consisting either of redbean paste covered with ground peanuts or ground peanuts covered with redbean paste.
Hmm.... miss the traditional mooncakes.
McDonalds' even had a moon burger of some sort but I didn't try it. The advertisement was pretty funny though--two rabbits fighting on the moon.
Hmm.... miss the traditional mooncakes.
McDonalds' even had a moon burger of some sort but I didn't try it. The advertisement was pretty funny though--two rabbits fighting on the moon.
Belly Dancing
Went to see a belly dancing performance at the American Club in Tokyo recently. One of my friends knew someone who knew a belly dancer and we all got invited to their inaugural performance in Japan.
Apparenty, the audience consisted mostly of Japanese belly dancers--people who take classes for fun just like paupau), and boy were they flamboyantly-dressed. Even my Japanese friends commented that the crowd was "different". Should have taken some pictures of the audience...
But when it came to rushing to the buffet table, everyone became obaa-sans. You'd be surprised how fast those ladies can move on high-heels yet maintain their poise. I thought the buffet was free-flow so I stupidly waited for the crowd to disperse before I went. Man, by then the food was almost gone, and little remained of the most popular dishes.
But, back to belly dancing; paupau gave me some ideas of how complicated it was and how many different muscles one had to use. To my layman's eyes, it was amazing how the dancers could move their bodies in those ways. It must be tiring, having to quiver and wiggle the right portions of one's body. For maximum effect, a dancer told me, one has to sit at most a few steps away from the performers. Too bad in our case they were all far away on the ballroom stage.
The star of the show, a professional dancer from Cairo did something amazing (sadly not captured on film)--somehow her stomach muscles were so well-controlled that she could place a walking cane horizontally across her hips and grip it in place with her belly!
Amazing, but a little long. Most of us were quite sleepy when it ended.
Apparenty, the audience consisted mostly of Japanese belly dancers--people who take classes for fun just like paupau), and boy were they flamboyantly-dressed. Even my Japanese friends commented that the crowd was "different". Should have taken some pictures of the audience...
But when it came to rushing to the buffet table, everyone became obaa-sans. You'd be surprised how fast those ladies can move on high-heels yet maintain their poise. I thought the buffet was free-flow so I stupidly waited for the crowd to disperse before I went. Man, by then the food was almost gone, and little remained of the most popular dishes.
But, back to belly dancing; paupau gave me some ideas of how complicated it was and how many different muscles one had to use. To my layman's eyes, it was amazing how the dancers could move their bodies in those ways. It must be tiring, having to quiver and wiggle the right portions of one's body. For maximum effect, a dancer told me, one has to sit at most a few steps away from the performers. Too bad in our case they were all far away on the ballroom stage.
The star of the show, a professional dancer from Cairo did something amazing (sadly not captured on film)--somehow her stomach muscles were so well-controlled that she could place a walking cane horizontally across her hips and grip it in place with her belly!
Amazing, but a little long. Most of us were quite sleepy when it ended.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Halle Berry just joined...
so said a co-worker today as I bumped into him in the hallway. Hahaha, can't resist using this headline to draw people in. Today two new college grads came in and one of them, according to him, looked like Halle Berry. I would have said Janet Jackson, but anyway, it's interesting to see more and more non-Japanese work in Tokyo.
Even on the streets around where I live (a fairly-residential area), I see gaijin almost every day.
Even on the streets around where I live (a fairly-residential area), I see gaijin almost every day.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Happy Mid-Autumn
熊对能说：穷成这样啦，四个熊掌全卖了；
兵对丘说：兄弟，踩上地雷了，两腿咋都没了；
王对皇说：当皇上有什么 处， 看，头发都白了；
口对回说：亲爱的，都怀孕这么久了，也不说一声；
果对裸说：哥们儿， 穿上衣服还不如不穿！
比对北说：夫妻何必闹离婚呢；
巾对币说：戴上博士帽就身价百倍了；
臣对巨说：一样的面积，但 三室两厅；
我对你说：中秋节要到了,祝万事如意！
(谢谢海栋)
兵对丘说：兄弟，踩上地雷了，两腿咋都没了；
王对皇说：当皇上有什么 处， 看，头发都白了；
口对回说：亲爱的，都怀孕这么久了，也不说一声；
果对裸说：哥们儿， 穿上衣服还不如不穿！
比对北说：夫妻何必闹离婚呢；
巾对币说：戴上博士帽就身价百倍了；
臣对巨说：一样的面积，但 三室两厅；
我对你说：中秋节要到了,祝万事如意！
(谢谢海栋)
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Randy Pausch's last lecture
Carnegie Mellon has a lecture series known as "The Last Lecture" where each speaker addresses the audience as if it was his/her final lecture ever. Semi-retired surgeon poon forwarded an article about Randy Pausch, a CMU CS prof who, after being diagnosed with a terminal disease, is living his final days to the fullest. The following videos capture indeed, his "Last Lecture".
Prof Pausch was instrumental in setting up, among other things, Building Virtual Worlds--a highly-acclaimed project class where students of vastly-different disciplines create 3D virtual worlds. We used to attend the final day of that class when students showed off their creations. Costumes, stage performances, gags accompanied technologically-impressive interactive computer animations. One of the things I loved about dear old CMU.
Some (near) quotes I like from his lecture:
"Brick walls are there for people who are really dedicated to show their commitment."
"If you expect a morose and depressing lecture, I'm sorry to disappoint you."
"It's sad that people perceive you as arrogant, because that limits your potential for success in future."
"Give someone time and he/she will surely surprise you in a good way."
"I don't know, but one of my brightest and most promising young faculty is standing in front of me bustling with excitement, and I would like to hear more."
Videos:
Part 1 of 10
Part 2 of 10
Part 3 of 10
Part 4 of 10
Part 5 of 10
Part 6 of 10
Part 7 of 10
Part 8 of 10
Part 9 of 10
Part 10 of 10
Prof Pausch was instrumental in setting up, among other things, Building Virtual Worlds--a highly-acclaimed project class where students of vastly-different disciplines create 3D virtual worlds. We used to attend the final day of that class when students showed off their creations. Costumes, stage performances, gags accompanied technologically-impressive interactive computer animations. One of the things I loved about dear old CMU.
Some (near) quotes I like from his lecture:
"Brick walls are there for people who are really dedicated to show their commitment."
"If you expect a morose and depressing lecture, I'm sorry to disappoint you."
"It's sad that people perceive you as arrogant, because that limits your potential for success in future."
"Give someone time and he/she will surely surprise you in a good way."
"I don't know, but one of my brightest and most promising young faculty is standing in front of me bustling with excitement, and I would like to hear more."
Videos:
Part 1 of 10
Part 2 of 10
Part 3 of 10
Part 4 of 10
Part 5 of 10
Part 6 of 10
Part 7 of 10
Part 8 of 10
Part 9 of 10
Part 10 of 10
Monday, September 17, 2007
Dressing up is pretty fun
Ever since I arrived in Tokyo, the urge to dress up, to take more notice of the external appearance has been steadily creeping up on me. Perhaps it is an excuse to buy stuff, perhaps years of being encouraged to dress up (thanks bb & her mum) has finally rubbed off :)
Anyway, a friend recommended The Suit Company, a more-formal/business attire retailer whose selection and prices are actually pretty decent. Thanks cbw!
Bought a tie and jacket over the weekend that I look forward to wearing, if only the weather will turn more autumn-ish. It's 29 degrees C outside at the moment...
Oops, gotta replenish that hair wax soon :P
Anyway, a friend recommended The Suit Company, a more-formal/business attire retailer whose selection and prices are actually pretty decent. Thanks cbw!
Bought a tie and jacket over the weekend that I look forward to wearing, if only the weather will turn more autumn-ish. It's 29 degrees C outside at the moment...
Oops, gotta replenish that hair wax soon :P
Kiddyland
... is definitely not just for kids :) After G-nie told me about this place and his "rirekkuma" I was curious and checked it out. What kind of toy shop could be nestling close to Chanel along Omotesando(表参道) in bustling Harajuku(原宿)?
Well, six floors of most of the toys that captured the hearts of children worldwide.
Bought some cuddly stuff for my niece and upcoming nephews, plus a couple more for my sisters. Almost couldn't resist buying the 4-foot tall Jack Skellington from the Nightmare Before Christmas.
Well, six floors of most of the toys that captured the hearts of children worldwide.
Bought some cuddly stuff for my niece and upcoming nephews, plus a couple more for my sisters. Almost couldn't resist buying the 4-foot tall Jack Skellington from the Nightmare Before Christmas.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Squid Ink Omelette Rice
Heehee, 2nd item in my omu-raisu collection. Never thought Mediterranean-style squid ink would go well with omu-raisu, but it was pretty good :) Takashi and Hiromi took me out to this pretty interesting restaurant in Machida-shi (町田市). Judging by Hiromi's initial sniff of disdain, Machida-Shi sounded like the proverbial hill-billy country for sophisticated Tokyo socialites, but she was won over by the food and the atmosphere.
"Real sushi"
Still can't figure out which to dip into soy sauce and which not to... but the uni was sweetly delicious. Am starting to like that stuff, despite the gooey texture. Top quality sushi if I may say so, even though I'm no expert. Wish I could find the place again though...
弓道道場
I was very lucky to get invited by a friend to a Kyuudou or Japanese Archery studio to watch his wife practice. The doujou (or studio) is located near Asakusa (浅草), in the midst of a very charming old Tokyo neighbourhood. Narrow alleys and quaint houses, very Japanese and reminiscent of Doraemon cartoons.
As one can see, the archers shot at the targets at the far end, which was actually a wall of sand that was meticulously maintained.
The sensei's family has been involved in 弓道 for many generations. He is very well-respected in the international community yet wonderfully hospitable and humble. Brought us out for a _real_ sushi dinner afterwards. I felt really honoured to be part of the whole evening.
Walking along the quiet streets, I thought all we needed was a full moon to illuminate the surroundings and make the whole scene look like a postcard from Kyoto.
As one can see, the archers shot at the targets at the far end, which was actually a wall of sand that was meticulously maintained.
The sensei's family has been involved in 弓道 for many generations. He is very well-respected in the international community yet wonderfully hospitable and humble. Brought us out for a _real_ sushi dinner afterwards. I felt really honoured to be part of the whole evening.
Walking along the quiet streets, I thought all we needed was a full moon to illuminate the surroundings and make the whole scene look like a postcard from Kyoto.
Sunday, September 02, 2007
A poem
by Robert Frost that I read recently explores the balance between transitory bliss and how it must eventually die to become earthly beauty.
Its movement and order induces me to accept each change as a positive rather than as a decrease in value; Though gold turning to green, "flower to leaf", and "Eden to grief" each involves a loss in color and beauty, such a change is ultimately an inherent order of nature, rather than a forced one.
"So dawn goes down to day." However, this downward turn is no fall to be mourned. Dawn is tentative, lovely, but incomplete and evanescent. Dawn progresses into the warmth of daylight and full life. The hesitant perfections of gold, of flower, of Eden, and finally of dawn changed into elements of potentially larger worth.
Each downward turn is a blessing in disguise, a chance to reflect and to learn, to rest and to resume the journey later.
Thank you, my dear friends, for your care and concern.
Also, I'll not forget that
...
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Its movement and order induces me to accept each change as a positive rather than as a decrease in value; Though gold turning to green, "flower to leaf", and "Eden to grief" each involves a loss in color and beauty, such a change is ultimately an inherent order of nature, rather than a forced one.
"So dawn goes down to day." However, this downward turn is no fall to be mourned. Dawn is tentative, lovely, but incomplete and evanescent. Dawn progresses into the warmth of daylight and full life. The hesitant perfections of gold, of flower, of Eden, and finally of dawn changed into elements of potentially larger worth.
Each downward turn is a blessing in disguise, a chance to reflect and to learn, to rest and to resume the journey later.
Thank you, my dear friends, for your care and concern.
Also, I'll not forget that
...
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Monday, August 27, 2007
The meaning of life
One of the things that solitude does to people is to make them reflect. It's been a while since I lived in a place without housemates to chat to, so it's kinda strange at first. No more shouting across the hallway to landlord khoo to come see the latest L'pool goal or late-night Wii trauma center surgeries.
Anyway, the past few days I've been wondering what the meaning of life is. They say it's the journey that counts, not the destination, but does that mean at each resting point, one will find out more about the general direction where one is going?
Coming to Japan has been a step, a fairly-big one perhaps, but it's a step that was supposed to be part of a bigger plan. Work a few years here, learn the tricks of the Asian tech trade, settle down, start something, not necessarily in that order. I'm starting to realize that things might, and often will change. The rug will get pulled out from under my feet, for sure. Just have to learn to balance...
It's only been a coupla' weeks, I know :)
Hope you're doing well!
Anyway, the past few days I've been wondering what the meaning of life is. They say it's the journey that counts, not the destination, but does that mean at each resting point, one will find out more about the general direction where one is going?
Coming to Japan has been a step, a fairly-big one perhaps, but it's a step that was supposed to be part of a bigger plan. Work a few years here, learn the tricks of the Asian tech trade, settle down, start something, not necessarily in that order. I'm starting to realize that things might, and often will change. The rug will get pulled out from under my feet, for sure. Just have to learn to balance...
It's only been a coupla' weeks, I know :)
Hope you're doing well!
Lunch crowds
In the area where I work, there're several office buildings, each of which easily house 800-1000 worker bees like me. And everyday around 12 noon, 65% of us famished bees swarm out in search of food. The results: lines outside restaurants and eateries, stressed-out waiters and waitresses, and handy conversation starters like, "Crowded isn't it?", "Yeah, lots of people...", "Doesn't feel good leh..."
Approaching the situation like a typical techie, today I asked my co-workers why people don't just stagger their eating times.
Expected answers like, "Oh 12 to 1 is the official time", "It's how things usually work here", etc. followed by a couple of shrugs, but I was delighted to hear, "We Japanese like crowds; we get nervous when there aren't people milling about all over the place."
Never thought of it that way.
(PS: Someone please tell me what "staggered" is in 日本語)
Approaching the situation like a typical techie, today I asked my co-workers why people don't just stagger their eating times.
Expected answers like, "Oh 12 to 1 is the official time", "It's how things usually work here", etc. followed by a couple of shrugs, but I was delighted to hear, "We Japanese like crowds; we get nervous when there aren't people milling about all over the place."
Never thought of it that way.
(PS: Someone please tell me what "staggered" is in 日本語)
Thank you!
I'm really happy to receive your positive feedback. It's great that somehow you're entertained by these stories, even the severely unsweet grapefruit I'm eating right now fails to leave a bitter taste in my mouth.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
It's a small world...
Can't believe it. First week here, I felt isolated from friends, family, familiar faces. Things changed from the 2nd week onwards; made new friends, found several relatives and now I'm exchanging SMSs with my younger cousin who's a high-school student in Japan.
Wouldn't have picked Rush Hour 3 as my first movie in Japan to be honest, but since my little cousin wanted to watch it, we headed for a theater in Shibuya (渋谷). Finding places in Tokyo can be a challenge if one doesn't know the exact location. Maps are helpful, though not exactly accurate, and street signs are often ingeniously tucked away in the most inconspicuous places. Best resort: ask some other person. Police officers, solicitors, train station staff, security guards, all of whom are very helpful. Random thought: I wished I saw Hachiko's statue though. Have to go back again soon...
Anyway, we finally found a theater and bought tickets--designated seats of course, none of that getting in line 1-blerdy-hour before the movie fiasco. Smallish place, air-con not too cold, decent seats. I heard that Japanese movie audiences tend not to laugh/scream/react to the movie so I was looking forward to experiencing that, but I was wrong. People laughed out loud! The guy next to my little cousin kept moaning about how noisy other people are, "uruse-!" ("うるせー!"), annoying her to no end. He obviously missed the irony there.
The movie itself wasn't too bad. Zhang Jingchu (张静初) was worth the 1800yen ticket, if anything else. Don't quite understand the French-bashing though...oh well it's just a movie.
Wouldn't have picked Rush Hour 3 as my first movie in Japan to be honest, but since my little cousin wanted to watch it, we headed for a theater in Shibuya (渋谷). Finding places in Tokyo can be a challenge if one doesn't know the exact location. Maps are helpful, though not exactly accurate, and street signs are often ingeniously tucked away in the most inconspicuous places. Best resort: ask some other person. Police officers, solicitors, train station staff, security guards, all of whom are very helpful. Random thought: I wished I saw Hachiko's statue though. Have to go back again soon...
Anyway, we finally found a theater and bought tickets--designated seats of course, none of that getting in line 1-blerdy-hour before the movie fiasco. Smallish place, air-con not too cold, decent seats. I heard that Japanese movie audiences tend not to laugh/scream/react to the movie so I was looking forward to experiencing that, but I was wrong. People laughed out loud! The guy next to my little cousin kept moaning about how noisy other people are, "uruse-!" ("うるせー!"), annoying her to no end. He obviously missed the irony there.
The movie itself wasn't too bad. Zhang Jingchu (张静初) was worth the 1800yen ticket, if anything else. Don't quite understand the French-bashing though...oh well it's just a movie.
Friday, August 24, 2007
Street festival near the office on Friday night
Surprised by a bustling street festival on the walkway to the train station on Friday night. Kids were in their vibrant yukatas, laughing and running around. Pretty nice atmosphere.
Office space
Some funny things about the office; people like to shuffle their feet as they walk along the hallway. Everybody does it--from the junior staff to upper management. Except the non-Japanese people like me, but after a few days I started to catch myself doing it and have to consciously suppress the urge nowadays :)
One can tell who's nearby just from the shuffling sounds.
*shuffle*shuffle* -> Oh, that's Yamamoto-san.
*shuffle*flop*shuffle* -> What's Nakashima-san from Marketing doing all the way over here?
*shuffle**shuffle*flop*flop*crash!* -> Oops, Ishihara-san tripped over that stray cable again.
Funny episode with a HR lady. Bumped into her in the elevator on my way home one night. Made small talk until the escalator going down into the train station and without warning, she suddenly took off! As if she had been poked by a cattle prod, one second she was right beside me and the other, she was a blur of motion, 0 to 60kmh in two thirds of a second, literally bolting down the steps. I stared at her fleeing figure, mouth wide open in astonishment. Couldn't figure it out why and eventually decided that she was so uncomfortable talking to me, she took off in a supposed hurry :) Hope I didn't cause her any internal injury :D
One can tell who's nearby just from the shuffling sounds.
*shuffle*shuffle* -> Oh, that's Yamamoto-san.
*shuffle*flop*shuffle* -> What's Nakashima-san from Marketing doing all the way over here?
*shuffle**shuffle*flop*flop*crash!* -> Oops, Ishihara-san tripped over that stray cable again.
Funny episode with a HR lady. Bumped into her in the elevator on my way home one night. Made small talk until the escalator going down into the train station and without warning, she suddenly took off! As if she had been poked by a cattle prod, one second she was right beside me and the other, she was a blur of motion, 0 to 60kmh in two thirds of a second, literally bolting down the steps. I stared at her fleeing figure, mouth wide open in astonishment. Couldn't figure it out why and eventually decided that she was so uncomfortable talking to me, she took off in a supposed hurry :) Hope I didn't cause her any internal injury :D
Thursday, August 23, 2007
2 days of feasting
Day 1: Roppongi
Dinner at Teppanyaki Ten (鉄板焼き天), opposite Tokyo Midtown, followed by drinks at a bar called Oranje (I think)
Occasion: Genie & San are in town!
They introduced me to Kyoko-san and Ryota-san, a very gregarious couple who know most, if not all of the yummy restaurants in Tokyo. So Teppanyaki Ten serves a nice ala carte menu of grilled-on-a-hot-metal-surface dishes, including some great prix fixe courses.
We all had the same course: scallops, some salad, some beef, some uni hahaha, not very descriptive am I, basically pretty good food.
Day 2: Ebisu
Dinner at Matsu Gen (松玄), near Ebisu Station, a soba (そば) place that turned into an Izakaya (居酒屋). Apparently they have branches in NYC too.
Dinner at Teppanyaki Ten (鉄板焼き天), opposite Tokyo Midtown, followed by drinks at a bar called Oranje (I think)
Occasion: Genie & San are in town!
They introduced me to Kyoko-san and Ryota-san, a very gregarious couple who know most, if not all of the yummy restaurants in Tokyo. So Teppanyaki Ten serves a nice ala carte menu of grilled-on-a-hot-metal-surface dishes, including some great prix fixe courses.
We all had the same course: scallops, some salad, some beef, some uni hahaha, not very descriptive am I, basically pretty good food.
Day 2: Ebisu
Dinner at Matsu Gen (松玄), near Ebisu Station, a soba (そば) place that turned into an Izakaya (居酒屋). Apparently they have branches in NYC too.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Lunar 7th month don't's
(in the words of semi-retired surgeon Poon)
I'm super superstitious so here're a few words of advice to follow for lunar July:
1. DO NOT kill any BIG moths in your house. (too bad my dad just killed one right in front of my eyes last night. I will definitely share some ghost story with you guys if i feel/see one)
2. DO NOT swim.
3. DO NOT go out late.
4. DO NOT wear something red.
5. Try to walk in the center of pedestrian walkways since ghosts like to walk near walls & you don't want to keep bumping into them.
6. Don't let your keys keep making "ting ting" sounds--this attract ghosts
7. IF you see someone burning ghost money, walk away.
8. Try to leave some light on at the inside front entrance of your home.
Have a safe lunar July (8/13-9/10)
I'm super superstitious so here're a few words of advice to follow for lunar July:
1. DO NOT kill any BIG moths in your house. (too bad my dad just killed one right in front of my eyes last night. I will definitely share some ghost story with you guys if i feel/see one)
2. DO NOT swim.
3. DO NOT go out late.
4. DO NOT wear something red.
5. Try to walk in the center of pedestrian walkways since ghosts like to walk near walls & you don't want to keep bumping into them.
6. Don't let your keys keep making "ting ting" sounds--this attract ghosts
7. IF you see someone burning ghost money, walk away.
8. Try to leave some light on at the inside front entrance of your home.
Have a safe lunar July (8/13-9/10)
Monday, August 20, 2007
On the way to verk
There's a longer path I take to work because it looks nicer. Walking along a river, trees on each side, even though it's pretty warm in summer, I still prefer the greenery to the other path--a sheltered, mostly concrete walkway.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Shampoo, cut, massage, haircut vocabulary practice
Went to get a haircut at a really residential part of town yesterday. Got a friend to introduce me to his stylist, which meant a higher level of tolerance towards me--the ignorant foreigner and a 1000 yen discount :)
Should have taken a notebook along to write down all the new vocabulary for future use, for instance, "lightly touch", "smooth over the brow", "slice by razor blade", "shampoo-sensitive hair", etc. Should carry a notebook everywhere, for that matter. Hoping to reach a point where I can remember all the words that I don't understand.
Funny English advertisement slogan: Don't mean to make fun of people's English 'cos it isn't their native tongue after all, but what's printed on the hairsalon's card just didn't sound right:
"A beautiful styling has creatived by a correct cut line and mature sence. For making perfect styling... perfect presentation. Image your form for abundant expression. Remember that we always stand by you."
Kinda get what it's saying though, right? Wonder if I should suggest something more appropriate...
Dave and I agreed that hairsalons in Taipei beat everywhere else (we've been to) for the sheer value.
Should have taken a notebook along to write down all the new vocabulary for future use, for instance, "lightly touch", "smooth over the brow", "slice by razor blade", "shampoo-sensitive hair", etc. Should carry a notebook everywhere, for that matter. Hoping to reach a point where I can remember all the words that I don't understand.
Funny English advertisement slogan: Don't mean to make fun of people's English 'cos it isn't their native tongue after all, but what's printed on the hairsalon's card just didn't sound right:
"A beautiful styling has creatived by a correct cut line and mature sence. For making perfect styling... perfect presentation. Image your form for abundant expression. Remember that we always stand by you."
Kinda get what it's saying though, right? Wonder if I should suggest something more appropriate...
Dave and I agreed that hairsalons in Taipei beat everywhere else (we've been to) for the sheer value.
Akihabara (aka Akiba to its devotees)
Seems funny that almost every major Asian city has an electrical goods' haven like this. One special feature of Tokyo's 秋葉原電気街 is the attire adopted by advertisers to appeal to the more geeky consumers (perhaps otaku [オタク] is the term used to describe these enthusiasts). Maid costumes or robot outfits seem to be popular...
Omu rice (Omelette rice)
Finally got to try a Japanese staple cheap-eat. The brown sauce (Worcestershire sauce?) was rather unnecessary though, I felt, and a stronger tomato flavour i.e. Taiwanese 蛋包饭 would suit my palate better. Well, just have to try a few more stores...
Friday, August 17, 2007
Blending in but standing out
One of the funny things about being Asian and non-Japanese in Tokyo is people look at me and assume I'm Japanese, of course.
So my new manager, a Caucasian guy who has been living in Japan for many years, and I went to get coffee one morning. He's fluent in Japanese and ordered two lattes for us. I stood beside him at the counter, and for some reason, the salesgirl took his order, immediately turned to me and asked, "What size?" (in Japanese). Naturally I was a bit surprised and asked my manager (in English, because it just seemed weird to speak to an Englishman in Japanese) what he'd like.
Funny girl. She probably thought I was Japanese and that it's safer to talk to me in case the white dude didn't understand -> thereby embarrassing him.
I chuckled at the irony :)
So my new manager, a Caucasian guy who has been living in Japan for many years, and I went to get coffee one morning. He's fluent in Japanese and ordered two lattes for us. I stood beside him at the counter, and for some reason, the salesgirl took his order, immediately turned to me and asked, "What size?" (in Japanese). Naturally I was a bit surprised and asked my manager (in English, because it just seemed weird to speak to an Englishman in Japanese) what he'd like.
Funny girl. She probably thought I was Japanese and that it's safer to talk to me in case the white dude didn't understand -> thereby embarrassing him.
I chuckled at the irony :)
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Eating and exercising
As I mentioned, was getting quite bored and restless, having not exercised for a couple of weeks. A lot more walking in Tokyo, though, thankfully. I don't miss plonking my butt into a car seat although I do miss my little red car. Hope it's doing well.
Haven't been eating much Japanese food during lunch. Co-workers bring me to different restaurants everyday, and I must admit the selection is quite amazing. Monday was Mansei (万世) a Wagyu (和牛) place, not too bad. Tuesday, Kua'Aina, a Hawaiian burger joint with nice fat juicy burgers--best burgers in the area I heard. Today, Tika, a Nepalese curry place with very tasty Indian-like curry+tandoori chicken+naan sets. Quite impressed so far although it's going to burn a hole in my pocket at this rate. To make up for that I just eat some Omusubi (rice balls stuffed w/ various things) for dinner. There's this simple home-cooked food store that sells bentos and made-to-order omusubis near my apartment--I go there everyday after work now.
Checked out the Minato-Ku (港区) Sports Center today in my search for a swimming pool. Can't run in this heat, so best thing is to swim. Quite an experience it was for me, the proverbial gaijin (外人) waltzing into a "native" place, not knowing the rules and such. A friend back in the US recommended it, so I decided to check it out.
Found it without trouble, went it and found it set up just like a train station--buy a ticket at a vending machine, slot it into a gate to enter. I was amused how the ticket machine allowed one to choose if one was a resident of the Ku (400yen), a non-resident (700yen), a school kid (100yen) etc. Well, my adventure began from that point on :)
First, I forgot to take my ticket after going through the gate and a young lady at the reception had to chase after me indignantly. Luckily I subconsciously heard her cry of "Sumimasen!" and turned back.
Reached the top floor with the pools. Pretty nice, lots of people inside. The lanes were organized neatly, of course. Not wanting to stand out, I asked the receptionist to explain the rules to me and am I glad I did. He patiently told me Lanes 1,2 were 1-way lanes (一方通行), and lanes 3,4 were 2-way lanes, and explained how the showers and lockers worked. Nice guy.
By the time I changed, showered and went outside, I was raring to get into the water. Two seconds after lowering myself into the pool, the lifeguard rushed over, "Sumimasen!" Probably the people around me were staring wide-eyed at me because, horror of horrors, I wasn't wearing a swimming cap! (or whatever you call those things)! So I used my magic phrase for getting out of situations, "Sumimasen, hajimete nannodesuga..." or "Sorry, first time!" and true enough, she smiled and loaned me one for free.
Finally I got into the pool and swam happily for about half an hour. I was in my own little watery world, listening to the bubbles and enjoying the exercise, when an announcement came out of the overhead speakers, and everyone started leaving the pool! Naturally I wasn't paying attention and although I saw people leaving the pool, my optimistic self was convinced that it's dinner time so most people would leave. What the heck, one more lap.... it wasn't until I reached the end of that lap that I realized I was one of two people left in the pool and the other guy was in the process of getting out...
Of course I quickly launched myself out from the pool and sheepishly joined some people sitting down along the sides. The voice from the speakers blared on and on, and I'm sad to say, that was one listening comprehension test that I flunked badly. Didn't catch a single meaningful sentence.... for 5 minutes I just sat there, pretending to blend in until I finally got fed-up and asked the guy next to me what the heck was going on.
Turns out there are mandated 10-minute breaks for all swimmers thrice a day. Regardless of when you entered the pool.... (*scratches head*) When the 10 minutes were up, everyone dived back in and all was well in the world again.
Would definitely go back to check out the fitness center. I'm sure I'll get into more trouble there ;) First I need to figure out if there are closer and cheaper fitness centers around...
Haven't been eating much Japanese food during lunch. Co-workers bring me to different restaurants everyday, and I must admit the selection is quite amazing. Monday was Mansei (万世) a Wagyu (和牛) place, not too bad. Tuesday, Kua'Aina, a Hawaiian burger joint with nice fat juicy burgers--best burgers in the area I heard. Today, Tika, a Nepalese curry place with very tasty Indian-like curry+tandoori chicken+naan sets. Quite impressed so far although it's going to burn a hole in my pocket at this rate. To make up for that I just eat some Omusubi (rice balls stuffed w/ various things) for dinner. There's this simple home-cooked food store that sells bentos and made-to-order omusubis near my apartment--I go there everyday after work now.
Checked out the Minato-Ku (港区) Sports Center today in my search for a swimming pool. Can't run in this heat, so best thing is to swim. Quite an experience it was for me, the proverbial gaijin (外人) waltzing into a "native" place, not knowing the rules and such. A friend back in the US recommended it, so I decided to check it out.
Found it without trouble, went it and found it set up just like a train station--buy a ticket at a vending machine, slot it into a gate to enter. I was amused how the ticket machine allowed one to choose if one was a resident of the Ku (400yen), a non-resident (700yen), a school kid (100yen) etc. Well, my adventure began from that point on :)
First, I forgot to take my ticket after going through the gate and a young lady at the reception had to chase after me indignantly. Luckily I subconsciously heard her cry of "Sumimasen!" and turned back.
Reached the top floor with the pools. Pretty nice, lots of people inside. The lanes were organized neatly, of course. Not wanting to stand out, I asked the receptionist to explain the rules to me and am I glad I did. He patiently told me Lanes 1,2 were 1-way lanes (一方通行), and lanes 3,4 were 2-way lanes, and explained how the showers and lockers worked. Nice guy.
By the time I changed, showered and went outside, I was raring to get into the water. Two seconds after lowering myself into the pool, the lifeguard rushed over, "Sumimasen!" Probably the people around me were staring wide-eyed at me because, horror of horrors, I wasn't wearing a swimming cap! (or whatever you call those things)! So I used my magic phrase for getting out of situations, "Sumimasen, hajimete nannodesuga..." or "Sorry, first time!" and true enough, she smiled and loaned me one for free.
Finally I got into the pool and swam happily for about half an hour. I was in my own little watery world, listening to the bubbles and enjoying the exercise, when an announcement came out of the overhead speakers, and everyone started leaving the pool! Naturally I wasn't paying attention and although I saw people leaving the pool, my optimistic self was convinced that it's dinner time so most people would leave. What the heck, one more lap.... it wasn't until I reached the end of that lap that I realized I was one of two people left in the pool and the other guy was in the process of getting out...
Of course I quickly launched myself out from the pool and sheepishly joined some people sitting down along the sides. The voice from the speakers blared on and on, and I'm sad to say, that was one listening comprehension test that I flunked badly. Didn't catch a single meaningful sentence.... for 5 minutes I just sat there, pretending to blend in until I finally got fed-up and asked the guy next to me what the heck was going on.
Turns out there are mandated 10-minute breaks for all swimmers thrice a day. Regardless of when you entered the pool.... (*scratches head*) When the 10 minutes were up, everyone dived back in and all was well in the world again.
Would definitely go back to check out the fitness center. I'm sure I'll get into more trouble there ;) First I need to figure out if there are closer and cheaper fitness centers around...
Monday, August 13, 2007
1st day of verk
The day came and went faster than I thought; first lugging a laptop while dressed in shirt and pants in a hot muggy summer is no joke. The weather was cooler compared to the past few days but even then when I finally reach the office, my shirt was splotched with wet patches. So much for a good first impression...
Rush-hour train commute wasn't that bad, I smiled to myself, until I realized, wah lau, this is Obon and most people are off on vacation. Shucks!
People at the office were nice and friendly. I'll take it at face value 'cos I can't tell anyway :) Since it's a small office, most people realize I'm the guy from HQ when I intro myself. Quite happy that I am not the center of attention though--that would be a bit awkward.
Have to get used to having more reserved people around e.g. few people chit-chat in the hallways or by cubes. In contrast, the office is pretty quiet. Even when I wanted to ask the HR lady a question, she ushered me into a nearby conference room :)
Co-workers brought me to lunch. Kind of an awkward crowd though, 1 mainlander, 1 American, 1 Japanese and me. Not quite sure which language to speak in since each of us has his own deficiency :)
The afternoon was pretty uneventful. I'm glad to be able to get a handle on some work, arrange a 1:1 with my new manager, and schedule some conference calls for tomorrow morning (afternoon San Jose time). Need to sleep early tonight.
I need to find a pool and fitness center!
Rush-hour train commute wasn't that bad, I smiled to myself, until I realized, wah lau, this is Obon and most people are off on vacation. Shucks!
People at the office were nice and friendly. I'll take it at face value 'cos I can't tell anyway :) Since it's a small office, most people realize I'm the guy from HQ when I intro myself. Quite happy that I am not the center of attention though--that would be a bit awkward.
Have to get used to having more reserved people around e.g. few people chit-chat in the hallways or by cubes. In contrast, the office is pretty quiet. Even when I wanted to ask the HR lady a question, she ushered me into a nearby conference room :)
Co-workers brought me to lunch. Kind of an awkward crowd though, 1 mainlander, 1 American, 1 Japanese and me. Not quite sure which language to speak in since each of us has his own deficiency :)
The afternoon was pretty uneventful. I'm glad to be able to get a handle on some work, arrange a 1:1 with my new manager, and schedule some conference calls for tomorrow morning (afternoon San Jose time). Need to sleep early tonight.
I need to find a pool and fitness center!
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Still jet-lagged, but walking around
Friday, Saturday was spent half in a jet-lag daze, walking around the Musashi Koyama (武蔵小山) area, eating when hungry and buying miscellaneous stuff like laundry powder and a bedsheet.
For some reason, there is a big bag of bedding in my room which looks very comfy but which cost upwards of 3000 yen to lease. Crazy landlord--I'm not paying for blankets and comforters that other people used before. Apparently there's a difference between bedsheets for beds and those for futons. Finally have some covering for the bed :)
My apartment is next to a street, and throughout the day, sometimes cars drive by and the occupants would speak out of a loudspeaker as they cruised past, selling stuff and announcing some other things that I don't understand. It gets annoying sometimes. I keep wondering if it is elections time or some local extortion scheme.
TV is pretty interesting, all in Japanese of course, including the "Rambo Part I" that was aired on Friday night. Somehow Stallone cussing in Japanese didn't sound very convincing.
Some friends brought me to eat pepperoncino and later to an observation tower near Shinjuku station.
Lots of people as usual. Atop the tower, the 360-degree view was pretty good.
One thing I found interesting was amidst all the tourists, I felt just like one of them, but it dawned upon me that I was actually living in Tokyo and not boarding a plane out of the country in a few days' time. Still quite amazing...
For some reason, there is a big bag of bedding in my room which looks very comfy but which cost upwards of 3000 yen to lease. Crazy landlord--I'm not paying for blankets and comforters that other people used before. Apparently there's a difference between bedsheets for beds and those for futons. Finally have some covering for the bed :)
My apartment is next to a street, and throughout the day, sometimes cars drive by and the occupants would speak out of a loudspeaker as they cruised past, selling stuff and announcing some other things that I don't understand. It gets annoying sometimes. I keep wondering if it is elections time or some local extortion scheme.
TV is pretty interesting, all in Japanese of course, including the "Rambo Part I" that was aired on Friday night. Somehow Stallone cussing in Japanese didn't sound very convincing.
Some friends brought me to eat pepperoncino and later to an observation tower near Shinjuku station.
Lots of people as usual. Atop the tower, the 360-degree view was pretty good.
One thing I found interesting was amidst all the tourists, I felt just like one of them, but it dawned upon me that I was actually living in Tokyo and not boarding a plane out of the country in a few days' time. Still quite amazing...
Friday, August 10, 2007
Arrived in Tokyo
Finally reached Tokyo yesterday (Thur) afternoon. 34 degrees C, humid as hell, checked into a minuscule apartment. 
The fact that I've left the Bay Area for a foreign land has just started to sink in.
People seem nice if i talk to them. but if i don't establish some sort of connection through eye or verbal contact, they don't seem to acknowledge my existence. A "big-city" syndrome, I guess.
Don't have a cellphone yet, 'cos i can't get one without a work visa. And couldn't find the darn DSL modem in the apartment last night and thought I was screwed--imagine life without Internet access! Fortunately, I finally found it this morning, tucked away in the last cabinet I opened of course :) Last night was a bit cold because the air-con was on, but there wasn't any bedding and I had no blankets. Woke up a few times so definitely going to buy a bedsheet and a blanket today.
Today i'm going to wander around a little and check out the area around my apartment. It seems residential and not touristy, and it's 5 minutes away from the nearest train station. There's a hospital, a high school and an elementary school nearby, plus a pretty long semi-indoor shopping avenue next to the station--not high-class shopping but more mundane stuff like veggies, household goods, cellphones, etc.
The fact that I've left the Bay Area for a foreign land has just started to sink in.
People seem nice if i talk to them. but if i don't establish some sort of connection through eye or verbal contact, they don't seem to acknowledge my existence. A "big-city" syndrome, I guess.
Don't have a cellphone yet, 'cos i can't get one without a work visa. And couldn't find the darn DSL modem in the apartment last night and thought I was screwed--imagine life without Internet access! Fortunately, I finally found it this morning, tucked away in the last cabinet I opened of course :) Last night was a bit cold because the air-con was on, but there wasn't any bedding and I had no blankets. Woke up a few times so definitely going to buy a bedsheet and a blanket today.
Today i'm going to wander around a little and check out the area around my apartment. It seems residential and not touristy, and it's 5 minutes away from the nearest train station. There's a hospital, a high school and an elementary school nearby, plus a pretty long semi-indoor shopping avenue next to the station--not high-class shopping but more mundane stuff like veggies, household goods, cellphones, etc.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Celebrate California!
It's hard to fully express my affection for California's natural places. It helps that the Golden State's weather--be it sunny or rainy or stormy, always complements the particular locale. I am lucky to experience a few of these special places. To me, California will always be full of sunshine and endless blue skies.
Recently, I went to Henry W Coe State Park for a quick camp-and-hike weekend. It was also the first time I got to sleep in a camper van--the type with beds, a stove, a sink and a fridge. It helped that my friend kept his fridge fully-stocked with filet mignon, eggs, bacon, pasta sauce, wine and all sorts of good stuff. Plus a few cans of Guiness thrown in for St. Patrick's Day. Europeans certainly know how to camp in style.
Even though the park was just an hour away from the heart of Silicon Valley, there were surprisingly few people when we arrived on Fri evening. An astonishing two out of twenty campsites in the headquarters campground were occupied. We took our time to pick out a good spot, carefully taking note of the amount of flat ground for the tent and the gradient of the driveway for the camper van. Apparently gas-powered appliances in RVs and campers must be level enough to function properly. Yes, I learnt a couple of things about campers this time. Running water came from a faucet right next to the van, and two thankfully clean and stenchless pit toilets stood 10 steps away. The cleansing chemicals in pit toilets are improving by the day. A couple of years ago I would have avoided any campsites within a 100 steps or downwind of toilets.
The fire rings in the campground kind of sucked because they were too deep and the metal grills were built much too high for any reasonable charcoal or wood fire to generate enough heat to cook. But after many experiments, we finally placed sheets of aluminum foil directly on top of the smoldering charcoal and sauteed the steaks on top of it. Seasoned liberally with garlic powder and doused in premium Tuscany olive oil, the meat sizzled nicely. Aluminum poisoning be darned--everyone needs some essential metals. At least the baked potatoes were simple--just wrap in foil and throw onto the glowing charcoal. They turned out nicely. I developed newfound respect for baked potato with sour cream.
After some medium-rare seared filet mignon, we plopped down into camp chairs and settled into an age-old ritual of staring in fascination at the fire. I like playing with fire, arranging logs and watching them burn, turning them over to ensure an even distribution of flames, stirring new life from a sleepy fire, enjoying the soothing heat emanating from the burning logs. Pyromania aside, I imagined what it could have been like thousands of years ago, when fire was the only source of light at night and when humans gathered around fires to cook, to keep warm, to keep one another company. The few things that hadn't changed much since then were probably the night sky and its constellations.
The stars were out in their full majesty, complete with one streaking meteor, the occasional plane and even a lonely satellite. At a corner of the campground, we could see a soft glow in the sky from the lights of nearby Gilroy.
Walking around the campground, I marveled at the peaceful quiet of the night and the soothing darkness, far away from the stress and labours of urban life. There were a few blankets of light in the campground--an incandescent glow from a ranger's house, a faint glow from our neighbour's fire, a stark circle of white light from a halogen lamp high up on a barn wall.
On my way to the restroom, I walked past the barn. Just before its region of light at the far end, a picnic area strewed with rows of tables laid in pitch darkness, eerie in the way that places which were crowded in the day left echoes of their occupants and activities at night. Having but one path past the picnic tables before, I hastened my steps, briefly noticing what appeared to be over-sized moths fluttering around the barn lamp.
Waaaiit a minute, the flying things weren't moths--they were BATS! Amazing! Yes, they were bats! I had never seen them so close up, zooming around at high speed, passing within centimeters of me yet able to maneuver around me with ease. It was hard to make out their telltale shape because they were just too fast. In the silence of the night, they were soundlessly circling the lamp, wheeling expertly in pursuit of moths drawn to the light. I stood in their midst in fascination, yet again marveling at the wonders of nature. Due to some strange optical property, as soon as I stepped into the light, the bats disappeared; I could see the bats only when I returned to the shadows. It was really something.
Some of the denizens weren't so "natural". At one point, sitting by the fire my friend suddenly felt something panting right by his leg. Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpsed something furry approach the trash bag. The raccoons, corrupted by easy access to campers' leftovers and trash, were out in full force. With primordial shouts and hisses, we leapt at them and drove them away, but they only retreated nonchalantly just beyond reach, staring back belligerently as if we were the intruders. (Actually, come to think of it, we WERE the intruders)
Recently, I went to Henry W Coe State Park for a quick camp-and-hike weekend. It was also the first time I got to sleep in a camper van--the type with beds, a stove, a sink and a fridge. It helped that my friend kept his fridge fully-stocked with filet mignon, eggs, bacon, pasta sauce, wine and all sorts of good stuff. Plus a few cans of Guiness thrown in for St. Patrick's Day. Europeans certainly know how to camp in style.
Even though the park was just an hour away from the heart of Silicon Valley, there were surprisingly few people when we arrived on Fri evening. An astonishing two out of twenty campsites in the headquarters campground were occupied. We took our time to pick out a good spot, carefully taking note of the amount of flat ground for the tent and the gradient of the driveway for the camper van. Apparently gas-powered appliances in RVs and campers must be level enough to function properly. Yes, I learnt a couple of things about campers this time. Running water came from a faucet right next to the van, and two thankfully clean and stenchless pit toilets stood 10 steps away. The cleansing chemicals in pit toilets are improving by the day. A couple of years ago I would have avoided any campsites within a 100 steps or downwind of toilets.
The fire rings in the campground kind of sucked because they were too deep and the metal grills were built much too high for any reasonable charcoal or wood fire to generate enough heat to cook. But after many experiments, we finally placed sheets of aluminum foil directly on top of the smoldering charcoal and sauteed the steaks on top of it. Seasoned liberally with garlic powder and doused in premium Tuscany olive oil, the meat sizzled nicely. Aluminum poisoning be darned--everyone needs some essential metals. At least the baked potatoes were simple--just wrap in foil and throw onto the glowing charcoal. They turned out nicely. I developed newfound respect for baked potato with sour cream.
After some medium-rare seared filet mignon, we plopped down into camp chairs and settled into an age-old ritual of staring in fascination at the fire. I like playing with fire, arranging logs and watching them burn, turning them over to ensure an even distribution of flames, stirring new life from a sleepy fire, enjoying the soothing heat emanating from the burning logs. Pyromania aside, I imagined what it could have been like thousands of years ago, when fire was the only source of light at night and when humans gathered around fires to cook, to keep warm, to keep one another company. The few things that hadn't changed much since then were probably the night sky and its constellations.
The stars were out in their full majesty, complete with one streaking meteor, the occasional plane and even a lonely satellite. At a corner of the campground, we could see a soft glow in the sky from the lights of nearby Gilroy.
Walking around the campground, I marveled at the peaceful quiet of the night and the soothing darkness, far away from the stress and labours of urban life. There were a few blankets of light in the campground--an incandescent glow from a ranger's house, a faint glow from our neighbour's fire, a stark circle of white light from a halogen lamp high up on a barn wall.
On my way to the restroom, I walked past the barn. Just before its region of light at the far end, a picnic area strewed with rows of tables laid in pitch darkness, eerie in the way that places which were crowded in the day left echoes of their occupants and activities at night. Having but one path past the picnic tables before, I hastened my steps, briefly noticing what appeared to be over-sized moths fluttering around the barn lamp.
Waaaiit a minute, the flying things weren't moths--they were BATS! Amazing! Yes, they were bats! I had never seen them so close up, zooming around at high speed, passing within centimeters of me yet able to maneuver around me with ease. It was hard to make out their telltale shape because they were just too fast. In the silence of the night, they were soundlessly circling the lamp, wheeling expertly in pursuit of moths drawn to the light. I stood in their midst in fascination, yet again marveling at the wonders of nature. Due to some strange optical property, as soon as I stepped into the light, the bats disappeared; I could see the bats only when I returned to the shadows. It was really something.
Some of the denizens weren't so "natural". At one point, sitting by the fire my friend suddenly felt something panting right by his leg. Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpsed something furry approach the trash bag. The raccoons, corrupted by easy access to campers' leftovers and trash, were out in full force. With primordial shouts and hisses, we leapt at them and drove them away, but they only retreated nonchalantly just beyond reach, staring back belligerently as if we were the intruders. (Actually, come to think of it, we WERE the intruders)
Friday, January 19, 2007
Next stop, ...
Since moving into my new apartment, I came to realize why proximity to the train station drives the rent. I think Eri and I were pretty lucky to find a nice place so close to one. The train wasn't even that crowded in the morning (famous last words, as I found out)
The Japanese adherence to punctuality is legendary. For any appointment, typically people arrive 10 minutes early so that the other party won't have to wait. If one is a minute late, one apologizes. For someone like me who grew up on "Asian time" i.e. meeting at 3pm really means 3:15pm or even 3:30pm. Some friends like the Sheepherder take it to the extreme though, if he says 3pm, set your alarm for 4:05pm.
So anyway, since 9am is the time by which most people need to report to work, the Tokyo public transit system faces its greatest strain around that time. For example, I found to my dismay that all trains departing at 8:30am onwards at my station have a 95% chance of being so crowded that there is no way anyone can squeeze in. (Normally it's not a problem up 'til 8:15am)
One day I overslept, and when the 8:30am train came in, I couldn't believe it--people were already pressed up against the doors. "You've GOT to be kidding," I muttered to myself as everyone around me braced for the siege. As usual, no one revealed any hint of emotion. Everybody was stone-faced, probably mentally picturing themselves as some sort of benign battering ram. As soon as the doors opened, people outside inched forward like an ocean wave that has reached its crest and is about to crash down on the shore. If no one from within the train makes to exit, the all-clear is given and it's time to move in!
With a resolve that any invading army would be proud of, we headed single-mindedly in, sometimes pausing to bow and mumble a 'Sumimasen" ("I am coming in no matter what" would be more appropriate). I'm sure this has been mentioned in countless Japan-related blogs, but one quickly learns which parts of the train door/frame to use for leverage. Usually the top of the frame works well, but one has to make one's luggage makes it inside the train as well. My messenger bag was caught once by the closing doors which resisted my pitiful efforts to prise them open for a few embarrassing moments until the official train pushers came to my rescue.
Once inside the train, since it's just three minutes to the next stop, it's all smooth-sailing but for the occasional morning-breath person exhaling straight into my face, or the formidable old lady with jutting titanium elbows. If you ever stand between an old lady or horror of horrors, a group of old ladies and the train door, GET THE HECK OUT OF THE WAY. They're usually shorter hence their lower centers of gravity ensure that they are seldom thrown off balance. That combined with deadly elbow/umbrella thrusts and a never-say-die spirit... 'nuff said.
For my commute, the train stays crowded until Shinjuku (新宿). Haven't figured out the system yet, but on certain days I get packed like a canned sardine and don't have to hang on to anything to keep my balance because there's simply no need to. Really feel sorry for the ladies in those situations. But everyone is so stoic-faced that sometimes I wonder if people are really bothered anymore. I have one pet peeve though: inconsiderate people who just lean on others on purpose (yes, I can tell easily) or who just jostle their way through when it doesn't cost too many joules to say, "Excuse me." In those circumstances I will make it as hard as possible for them to get by me.
Despite all these, I still have fun taking the train everyday because it's rather refreshing--different scenery so to speak. At night the trains get emptier, except for the last few trains where everyone, drunk and sober, scramble to get home.
Lastly, having a housemate who knows exactly which door of the train to board at so we end up nearest to the station exit is also a good thing. Reminds of my teenage days when I did the same thing on the MRT ;)
The Japanese adherence to punctuality is legendary. For any appointment, typically people arrive 10 minutes early so that the other party won't have to wait. If one is a minute late, one apologizes. For someone like me who grew up on "Asian time" i.e. meeting at 3pm really means 3:15pm or even 3:30pm. Some friends like the Sheepherder take it to the extreme though, if he says 3pm, set your alarm for 4:05pm.
So anyway, since 9am is the time by which most people need to report to work, the Tokyo public transit system faces its greatest strain around that time. For example, I found to my dismay that all trains departing at 8:30am onwards at my station have a 95% chance of being so crowded that there is no way anyone can squeeze in. (Normally it's not a problem up 'til 8:15am)
One day I overslept, and when the 8:30am train came in, I couldn't believe it--people were already pressed up against the doors. "You've GOT to be kidding," I muttered to myself as everyone around me braced for the siege. As usual, no one revealed any hint of emotion. Everybody was stone-faced, probably mentally picturing themselves as some sort of benign battering ram. As soon as the doors opened, people outside inched forward like an ocean wave that has reached its crest and is about to crash down on the shore. If no one from within the train makes to exit, the all-clear is given and it's time to move in!
With a resolve that any invading army would be proud of, we headed single-mindedly in, sometimes pausing to bow and mumble a 'Sumimasen" ("I am coming in no matter what" would be more appropriate). I'm sure this has been mentioned in countless Japan-related blogs, but one quickly learns which parts of the train door/frame to use for leverage. Usually the top of the frame works well, but one has to make one's luggage makes it inside the train as well. My messenger bag was caught once by the closing doors which resisted my pitiful efforts to prise them open for a few embarrassing moments until the official train pushers came to my rescue.
Once inside the train, since it's just three minutes to the next stop, it's all smooth-sailing but for the occasional morning-breath person exhaling straight into my face, or the formidable old lady with jutting titanium elbows. If you ever stand between an old lady or horror of horrors, a group of old ladies and the train door, GET THE HECK OUT OF THE WAY. They're usually shorter hence their lower centers of gravity ensure that they are seldom thrown off balance. That combined with deadly elbow/umbrella thrusts and a never-say-die spirit... 'nuff said.
For my commute, the train stays crowded until Shinjuku (新宿). Haven't figured out the system yet, but on certain days I get packed like a canned sardine and don't have to hang on to anything to keep my balance because there's simply no need to. Really feel sorry for the ladies in those situations. But everyone is so stoic-faced that sometimes I wonder if people are really bothered anymore. I have one pet peeve though: inconsiderate people who just lean on others on purpose (yes, I can tell easily) or who just jostle their way through when it doesn't cost too many joules to say, "Excuse me." In those circumstances I will make it as hard as possible for them to get by me.
Despite all these, I still have fun taking the train everyday because it's rather refreshing--different scenery so to speak. At night the trains get emptier, except for the last few trains where everyone, drunk and sober, scramble to get home.
Lastly, having a housemate who knows exactly which door of the train to board at so we end up nearest to the station exit is also a good thing. Reminds of my teenage days when I did the same thing on the MRT ;)
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