The Final Japanese Days

The last few days in Japan didn't feel like the last few days in Japan. I felt ready, as if I’d seen all I wanted to in Tokyo. I had gotten my closure.  I did some new things like go up the Tokyo Skytree and to an aquarium, and I did some repeat excursions as well. I returned to the zoo once again to visit my Japanese animal buddies and visited the owl café a second time to see those feathery friends of mine.

I also paid a visit to the second Tokyo Disney Park, Tokyo Disneyland. I will say, however, that it was quite a different experience. When I went to Tokyo Disney Sea in December, I was blown away by how crowded it was. I hadn’t even come close to really seeing “crowded,” as it turns out. No, Disney Sea was empty when I went in comparison to my trip to Disneyland. Disneyland’s streets were so densely packed that you could hardly shuffle from one ride to the next without bumping into at least twenty other park-goers. By 10 in the morning, the fast-passes for Space Mountain had been distributed for the remainder of the day, and the wait time had skyrocketed to 200 minutes, no exaggeration. So, one could watch an extended version of a Lord of the Rings installment and still have time to spare in line. When I thought about it in those terms, I simply couldn't wait standby for that ride.

160 minute wait? Nope!

I am not sure there is any logical explanation for the fact that I ACTUALLY waited two hours in line for Big Thunder Mountain. Especially considering that I have ridden that attraction many times in the past. The only explanation for my choosing to wait two hours in line for a ride that lasts about two minutes max is that I am certifiably insane. However, that would make every person ahead of me and behind me in line certifiably insane as well, which would make Disneyland just full of crazies. So in spite of the fact that the park was magical and fun, my enjoyment was slightly dampened by only getting to ride six rides in nine hours. I guess you know you’re getting old when you realize you no longer have the patience to put up with huge lines and crowds anymore.

I also tried some new Japanese cuisine that I hadn’t before during a home cooked meal and a thick pancake with green onions called Negiyaki. I also got to visit what was likely my 15^th or so Indian restaurant in Japan.

One thing is I wish I had taken the time to give the island that I called home for six months a more ceremonious goodbye. Instead, I spent my final morning rushing to the airport and didn’t really share my sentiments properly with Japan.

Rainbow Bridges and Sharks

Yesterday, I took a drive across the rainbow bridge, and let me tell you, it was much different than Rainbow Road in Mario Kart. No one was shooting red turtle shells at me, nor were cars going at top speeds driven by Nintendo game characters trying desperately to pass each other. No, no, my trip across rainbow bridge in Tokyo was far more mellow, since Japanese drivers tend to be rather respectful of each other.

Awhile back at school, the vice principal mentioned that in Tokyo Bay, there is a man-made island called Umihotau. After I said that it sounded "cool," he instantly offered to take me there and asked me what day worked for me. The day that worked for me happened to be yesterday, so he picked me up around 9:00 and thus our adventure began.

The first thing that I got a kick out of was his CD collection. Among album after album of famous jazz musicians were nestled two CDS that were rather out-of-place. The fist was Bob Marley and the Wailers. The second was the soundtrack to the SEQUEL to Bridget Jones' Diary. I mean, aside from a soundtrack to a children's television show broadcast in Denmark, that was the last CD I expected to see in the car of a 50-something Japanese man.

I felt so giddy at being taken on car trip through Tokyo that I didn't even care about the massive traffic jam we encountered due to a car accident. I also couldn't get over how polite Japanese drivers are. They let each other merge, they NEVER honk, and they always show some sort of "thank you" signal, generally by quickly flashing their emergency lights, when another driver does something kind.

After we drove in the UNDERWATER tunnel leading from Tokyo to Umihotau, he bought me a Gingerbread latte because he knows I love Starbucks, and then we went to Yokohama, because he knows it is my favourite city in Japan. So we got to Chinatown to enjoy a delicious Chinese lunch. There, we ran into the first "blip" in a perfect day. He ordered the set menu which came with soup, spicy tofu, shrimp, and some Chinese dumplings. When the soup arrived, he said "Marisa, this soup very rare. Very delicious." My curiosity was piqued so I asked what it was. An expression of shock and terror washed over my face when he informed me that it was shark fin.

I simply couldn't eat it. I can just see all the shock on my readers' faces, and I definitely expect some nasty comments saying "wow, that was SO RUDE of you to turn down the shark fin soup! How could you, you ignorant American!" but look, save your comments because I just don't care. Seriously, save the energy it would take to write those hatin' words. I was sticking to my ethics on this one. I told him respectfully that there were five animals I couldn't eat: sharks, horses, dogs, dolphins and whales. I also tried my best to explain that sometimes people catch sharks, cut off their fins, and throw them back alive. He said "no, no, no, only Chinese do that. Japanese eat whole shark." But he told me understood, as he wouldn't eat dog ever.

The rest of the food was amazing, though!

Then we walked around Yokohama, he helped me shop for Christmas gifts, and then we went to Odaiba to see the beautiful Tokyo lights after dark. We even went on a harbour cruise, which was amazing. 

Out of Context

The first time I went out with one of the teachers from the school where I work, I asked her why she likes to go to Tokyo, which is relatively far, anytime she is free. She told me that she likes to leave the city in which she teaches because she likes to go far, far away from the students when she has leisure time. 

I didn't really understand this comment at the time. I assumed it couldn't possibly be that difficult to separate one’s work and social lives. I realised just how wrong this notion was. The city in which I teach didn't seem so small at first, until I began running into students no matter where I went, often at the least opportune moments. I’ve often almost run into something on my bike because a student saw me and called my name, catching me completely off guard. They’ve seen me at the grocery store, at the train station on the weekends on my way to a night out in Tokyo, at the convenience store paying bills... it just never ends.

Many of my students now know where I live, and I’m not sure how I feel about that either. My commute walking or biking to school may be short, but it gives me the time I need to mentally prepare myself for dealing with 600 energetic Japanese preteens and teenagers. Trust me, that time is needed for me to maintain what is left of my sanity. However, the other day, as I walked out the door I found myself face to face with one of my special education students. He watched me intently like a predator watching its prey in a nature special.  As I locked my door, all I could think was “great, there goes my mental preparation. It’s show time,” while I mustered up what little energy I could to pretend to be cheerful. Then we walked the entire way to school together. I wouldn't be surprised if students showing up outside my door in the mornings becomes a routine thing.

Now, I certainly understand the sentiments that my teacher friend expressed to me all that time ago. I, too, just want to escape on the weekends and go far, far away. Not that I don’t love my students dearly when they are inside the school. Seeing them outside of context is just too strange.

Otters, Pandas and Bears, Oh My!

If Dorothy had decided to venture to the Ueno Zoo instead of Oz, she would have encountered very different creatures. I'm not sure what it is about zoos in other countries, but so far my experience has shown that animals abroad are much livelier. Yesterday, the inhabitants of Tokyo's famous zoo were as active as those in captivity can get given their space constraints. The most exciting thing was the activity of the animals that zoo-goers pay to see like tigers, polar bears, gorillas and pandas. I have been to the San Diego zoo more times than I can count and have never seen a giant panda as close up as I did in Ueno.

I think I'm invading this panda's personal bubble

Not only were the gorillas monkeying around (there's a little primate humor for you), but they had an adorable little whippersnapper of a baby with them. The otters, which often sleep in American zoos or hide better than Waldo, snaked around playfully like furry little eels through the water. I have seen polar bears all over the world, in places like San Diego, Colorado and Madrid. Yet, I have never seen one bounding back and forth, jumping, and diving as I did in Tokyo. All of the beautiful creatures were truly a sight to behold, and made me realize with how many beings we share this Earth. Sorry, I hope you all had your Lactase ready, that got a bit cheesy without warning. My favorite was the snowy owl. It pivoted its head sharply a few times a minute and once stared directly at me with a piercing gaze through yellow eyes. I felt like it was looking right into my soul. Maybe it was Hedwig and had magical powers and actually did stare into my soul.

One of my favorite exhibits was the one featuring Japanese birds. One of the reasons I liked it was its complete emptiness of the building. I suppose most of the visitors figure they have seen enough Japanese birds just by living in Japan. Yet it was so peaceful watching the graceful beings amid no sounds save the echo of my footsteps. If I were a zoo animal, I would definitely be a Japanese bird because I wouldn't have to deal with annoying people glaring at me and being loud at all hours.

I think that visitors who don't speak Japanese should get a discount at the Ueno Zoo, since almost all of the signs are in Japanese only, thus meaning they miss out on the information about the animals. Okay, okay, I concede it is only $5 to get in which is really nothing, especially in comparison to other zoos. At least the names of the animals were translated, some rather comically. One was called a “Dhole,” and I could just read it as a D-Hole, which just sounds wrong. It looked like a kind of fox. I guess maybe foxes can be D-Holes.

The only downside, as is often a downside in theme parks, zoos, and other attractions, was the mass amount of people. This particular outing redefined what it meant for a place to be crowded. I eventually lost count of how many times someone ran into me with her stroller, or a child stepped on my feet. Not a single person said “excuse me” or “I’m sorry.”

However, for every inconsiderate person on this Earth there exists at least one considerate one. The language barrier in Japan has discouraged me to the point where I rarely ask for help or for directions anymore. Even when I ask a question in Japanese, I can’t understand the answer, so the point of asking is moot. Upon arrival in Ueno, however, the zoo had already been open for hours and I didn’t want to waste time wandering around lost beyond reason. So, after realizing the map was of little assistance, I asked the two women standing beside me which way the zoo was. A look of determination came over their faces and they said “please, we go together.” I felt bad, because one had a suitcase and wore sky-high heels and the other carried a tiny baby. But they insisted. So, we walked across the station to the information booth and they found out where to go. Then, they walked me all the way out to where signs pointed the way to the zoo, chatting with me animatedly the whole time. After such a short time with them, it surprised me when I felt sad upon going our separate ways. When you are in a foreign country, you tend to latch onto any human interaction rather quickly.