"Look at the sky. The day's breaking, right? Here, now, a new day is beginning..."
Arashi - "Namida no Nagareboshi"
Hello, Blogger. It's been a while. Forgive my lack of postage - computers in my Shinjuku hotel lobby were too expensive to use for thoughtful blogging. Ten yen per minute racks up like crazy, especially on old-school computers with dial-up modems.
So, for part one of my solo weeklong travels in Tokyo and Yokohama:
9月15日 - Day 1
The efficiency of public transportation here never ceases to amaze me. Only 230円 (about $2) for a bus from my apartment to the downtown Sapporo train station and 1090円 for the express train to the New Chitose airport. I arrived with two hours to spare before boarding, enough time to find my airline, buy breakfast, study kanji and eventually realize I had left my cell phone charger in my apartment.
An hour and a half later, I was walking around Haneda Airport, sweating from the heat and the exertion it took to hoist my two duffel bags. Rolling luggage is an amazing luxury, one I should have taken with me.
Ten minutes later, I had found the ticket booth for the airport limousine service, bought a ticket to Shinjuku for 1200円 and was standing in line for the super-comfy coach bus. The highways in Tokyo wind around like a multi-layered racetrack, so the trip to Shinjuku took almost an hour. Eventually I was dropped off in front of Shinjuku Station, where I had my mid-afternoon epiphany: I had been there before. Last summer, with my KIIS classmates as we spent our first night out in Tokyo. Whew. Relief. I knew my way around just from memory.
What I loved about staying at the Shinjuku Prince Hotel: Even in the heart of one of Tokyo's busiest districts, the staff talked to me only in Japanese. I guess part of the reason is that I look culturally ambiguous; that is, I'm often confused for French or Italian (or even Japanese if you can't see my bright blue eyes), so they aren't sure whether I can speak English or not. I was even asked what origin my name was when they checked my passport and alien registration card.
My 16th-floor room overlooked the tops of karaoke parlors and Kirin beer ads. After little sleep and a long day of buses, trains and planes, I felt a little under the weather. I grabbed a salad and onigiri for dinner from a Lawson convenience store down the street and spent my night inside, with a bit of "Lost in Translation" loneliness, reading a new Arashi magazine I had picked up.
SHINJUKU: From the window of my floor's lobby, I could see Shinjuku's pachinko parlors, karaoke rooms and pawn shops.
9月1６日 - Day ２
The next morning, I woke up to Tokyo's heat at 11 a.m., magazine photos of Japanese celebrities spread out next to me. Feeling better but still a little weak, I decided to head to Harajuku, only two subway stops from Shinjuku and close enough to return to my hotel quickly if I felt worse.
NOT THE STEREOTYPE: Harajuku, a "normal" shopping district by dayHarajuku at lunchtime on a Wednesday is not what most people think of when they imagine the fashion mecca. Everything was airy and cheerful, not crazy wild and bright, and few people were wearing the typical non-mainstream, Gothic Lolita-type costumes. In fact, the only crazily clad shoppers I saw were a group of European tourists who appeared to have dressed up in anticipation of Harajuku's reputation. Um, try again.
In honor of Arashi, whose articles and photos kept me company the night before, I first headed to the Johnny's Entertainment shop, one of four in the country. Despite the company's incredible popularity, the shop is located down a back street behind a few clothing shops and some construction work.
JOHNNY'S HARAJUKU: OUTSIDE
The shop itself is small, with a patio complete with tables and umbrellas for friends to wait while their friends continue to shop.
Even the patio's trash cans have the Johnny's logo on them.
Going inside Johnny's means battling with high school girls to squeeze closer to the walls of official photos and concert memorabilia. Each wall is classified by group, including NEWS, KAT-TUN, Kinki Kids, Tackey and Tsubasa, Arashi and Johnny's Jr. The store's most popular item: its photo collection (totaling 1600) of each group and its individual members. The glossy photos themselves are the size of a postcard and cost 150円 each (about $1.50). Photos are grouped in order of when they were taken, and I was suddenly jealous of the schoolgirls around me who could just hop on a train to Harajuku to buy more photos when their favorite artists released a new video or photo shoot. So lucky.
I think I spent about 20 minutes choosing which of the several hundred Arashi photos I wanted, dodging the super-enthusiastic MatsuJun fangirls to get closer to the Nino and Sho sections. If you have $200+ available, there's the option of buying one member's complete photo set at once. (I was tempted, believe me.)
After selecting my favorite photos, I grabbed the rest of my merchandise and headed to the register.
The most embarrassing thing? Each photo rings up with the singer's name in katakana on the register's screen (and your receipt), so as I stood in line, when the cashier typed in each photo's code, people standing behind me knew exactly who I was a fan of. (*cough* Sho *cough*)
Then again, if you're in the Johnny's shop with other fangirls in the first place, you can't be all that ashamed.
So this is the result: 52 photos (9 Arashi, 4 Nino, 11 MatsuJun, 1 Aiba, and 27 Sho), 1 KAT-TUN uchiwa, 1 NEWS uchiwa, and the official 2008-2009 concert season penlight wand. Almost exactly $100 later, I left very happy.As I backtracked down the same narrow street I had come from, a familiar flash of stoplight-reminiscent yellow plastic diverted my attention from the eclectic row of clothing shops. One blindingly bright plastic shopping bag, then another, until I turned down the next street and followed the trail of shoppers to my staple of American shopping.
Before me, ahead of the crowded sidewalks of fashion junkies, was the unmistakable Forever 21 logo.
My two years as a sales assistant at the Forever 21 branch store in Indianapolis' Castleton Mall paid for part of my college tuition and, ironically, my trip here.
As I watched excited teenage girls take photos of the four-story building with their cell phones, I realized two Black Fridays and holiday shopping seasons in the largest mall in Indiana couldn't prepare me to work on a regular Wednesday here.
The line of waiting customers extended beyond Forever 21, winding down the sidewalk next door outside Harajuku's H&M store. Policemen stood at the entrance, regulating the flow of women and glancing at the group of bored men gathered near the street. The crowd was so suffocating within the store, I left after only checking out the first floor.
I wandered around the streets of Harajuku for the next two hours, bypassing other Western brands like Gap and Lacoste for hole-in-the-wall boutiques selling wooden, bohemian-style jewelry and custom-made T-shirts. The blending of Japanese and non-Japanese ads gave the streets an international appeal, and on one street I could see a billboard featuring Ciara, Emma Watson's Burberry ad and Arashi's newest AU by KDDI cell phone campaign poster while standing in one spot.
SKY-HIGH PROMOTIONS: Fashion magazine companies advertised their publications by creating billboards from their cover designs.One block from Harajuku's famous Takeshita Street (see later post), tourists could watch popular DJ personalities interview celebrities live in a small, glass-paneled booth. Sorry - photos weren't allowed.
My long day of traveling ended "home" - if that's what I could call it - in Shinjuku. Reika, a former college classmate of mine and native Japanese student, properly explained all of Shinjuku's less-famous attractions and treated me to dinner at a yakitoriya I would have never entered on my own.
Eating alone in Tokyo is a little overwhelming, so I had limited myself to small cafes and Japanese-style fast food to avoid any awkwardness at a formal sit-down restaurant. This was the first, and only, time in Tokyo I could sit and eat without feeling conspicuous. Chicken kabobs made from the butt and wings, chicken with mochi (sticky rice), salad and mixed vegetables with rice kept me busy while Reika and I discussed graduation, jobs, Sapporo and Ball State.
Five hours later, Reika boarded the second-to-last train home and I returned to my hotel. The Kirin beer signs glowing behind the sheer window curtains no longer seemed melancholy, and I fell asleep with a smile and a full stomach.
TO BE CONTINUED
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