25 Kilograms

(PICTURE: My bags at Narita airport.)

When I left for Japan I had one big bag that weighed 25 kilograms. Between shopping, receiving presents, buying things for my apartment and purchasing gifts for Huyen, I was ready to leave Japan with two bags each weighing 25 kilograms.

25 kilograms is the number that stuck out in my head whenever I would get anything in Japan. I kept thinking to myself, I have 25 extra kilograms to accumulate before going back to Vietnam.

So here's a really funny story: Being an August, I arrived at Narita Airport three hours early for my flight to Hanoi. You can go back and read my first ever blog entry about how us Augusts like to be on time. Well, I showed up at the Vietnam Airlines ticket counter with my two huge bags that I figured were both around 25 kilograms. I put the first bag on the scale and it weighed 28 kilograms. I put the next bag on the scale and it weighed 23 kilograms. I looked at the ticket agent and said, "Can I just take a couple kilograms out of one bag and put it into the other?" The woman gave me a strange look and nodded. She then took out a pen and paper and started to do some math. After she finished tabulating whatever she was tabulating she looked at me and said, "You can only bring 25 kilograms." "25 per bag, right," I asked. "No, 25 total." I looked at the woman as if she was crazy having realized I had an extra 26 kilograms of stuff to bring. The woman then showed me her math work and pointed at a number. The number was 98,560. She then said to me, "If you want to bring the extra weight it will cost you this much yen." I'm not sure if I started to laugh right then or just blurted out, "Yeah right!" 98,560 Yen is $1,059.47.

I quickly grabbed my bags off the belt, snatched back my passport and told the woman I would check-in later. I quickly made my way to the end of the airport terminal where the Japanese delivery companies were. I figured it had to be at least 10 X's cheaper to send stuff then to put it on the plane. Unfortunately the Japanese equivalent of UPS told me they don't deliver internationally. My back-up plan was to send it from the post office. Unfortunately the post office wasn't open yet. My back-up, back-up plan was to dump approximately 20 kilograms of stuff in a garbage can.

I found a somewhat empty section of the extremely busy airport and proceeded to unpack all of my stuff. First, I threw away everything I didn't absolutely need. This included some books I had read, some toiletries, hangers, a clothesline and nearly all of my kitchen goods from Japan minus my rice cooker and expensive pot. The rest of my kitchen -- plates, bowls, silverwear, etc. -- were left on top of a garbage can for a lucky passerby. Next I decided to use two day backpacks as carry-ons. I loaded everything heavy into these bags to the point that I thought the zippers would break. In fact, my one bag wouldn't close at all so I ended up tying the zippers together with a shoelace. I then took out my winter coat and STUFFED all the pockets with underwear and socks. I then filled the sleeves of the jacket with sweaters and sweatshirts. Finally, I put on a few layers of clothing and headed back to the check-in counter. I sneakily kept all of my carry-on stuff hidden below the counter while I put my two bags on the scale. The first bag weighed 11 kilograms. The second bag weighed 16 kilograms. I started to think about wearing four pairs of underwear when the ticket agent said, "We will let you bring this extra weight." I smiled from ear to ear and thanked her profusely. I'm pretty sure if I carried anything else I would have passed out from exhaustion.

But that was only half the fun. Next I had to go through passport control and security checks looking like a homeless man. I'm not trying to make fun of homeless people but it is the best way to describe my look at the time. I had two bags filled to the brim with pots, a yoga mat, and other stuff coming out of every pocket. Not to mention my coat which was stuffed with clothing.

When I went through security, I actually passed the metal detector before my bags went through the machine. I watched as the security agent looked at my bag for about thirty seconds. Clearly he must have been confused why a rice cooker stuffed with underwear inside of it was going through the machine. Somehow no red flags were raised though -- despite this being the day after the failed terrorist attack on the Detroit flight -- and I got my bags through without a problem.

Moral of the story: It is good to show up to flights very early in case you need to repack your luggage.

Drunk In Japan

(PICTURE: My favorite sign in the Japanese subway.)

Out of all the Asian countries I've been to, Japan had the least amount of puzzling signs in public. Usually when you wander around Asia you see really odd English that you can sort of figure out the meaning of. However in Japan, a country that really values perfection, the signs usually make sense.

One sign that I saw a few times in the Japanese subway was this:


This sign totally makes sense. The message is very clear. However, that doesn't stop it from being really funny to me. I love the Japanese honesty in this. To paraphrase the meaning: It is okay to be a drunk idiot but just do it at home.

LH in KY

This morning I awoke to a comment from my longtime reader LH in KY. For those of you who read my blog daily, you know that LH in KY is a Vietnam Veteran who often posts extremely insightful comments on my blog. When LH started to read my blog it really took my blogging to the next level as I constantly thought to myself, "I hope my mom and LH in KY like this post."

LH in KY has asked all of my readers to pray and send peaceful thoughts to his family who are going through a tough time right now. I hope that everyone can just take a moment after reading this and think of LH and his family.

LH, if you ever want to write a more private email to discuss anything my email is: [REDACTED]

Peace be with you and your family, LH.

Tsukiji Fish Market

(PICTURE: This man was as perplexed at the size of this fish as I was.)

Heading into Tokyo, the only sight I really wanted to see was the Tsukiji fish market. Tsukiji is the famous market in Tokyo where all the fresh fish is sold every morning. In retrospect, I'm not sure going to the market was such a great idea. Honestly, my rationale at the time was that I love sushi so it would be cool to see where it comes from. Well, this was faulty logic. The sushi comes from the sea, not from Tsukiji. Tsukiji is basically an enormous butcher shop for seafood. I now realize that my thinking was basically the equivalent of this: "I love steak, let me check out a slaughterhouse." Yeah, bad logic.

Sure it is probably good for all of us to see where our food is killed. I think many of us would quickly become vegetarians. In fact, as I walked around Tsukiji I thought to myself, "People who eat fish yet call themselves vegetarians need to come to this place." To get what I mean, watch this video:

Tokyo on Fast Forward

(PICTURE: Onryan and me eating octopus balls in Tokyo.)

I only had two days to explore Tokyo...which is actually one more day than my students in Koryama told me I would need.

I took a twelve hour night bus from Hiroshima to Tokyo and was met my Onryan -- my friend MyongFa's sister -- at the Kokubunji train station at 9AM. Onryan was a fantastic host from the moment she met me at the train station until the moment she dropped me off at the train station two days later. I was pretty tired and told Onryan that on my first day I only cared about eating delicious food.

Onryan took me to a neighborhood that I would best compare with SoHo in New York. Seemingly every few minutes we would stop and eat something which was exactly the right medicine for my lack of sleep.

At night Onryan prepared a delicious shabu-shabu dinner for me and her 14-year-old daughter. Yeah, I can't believe she has a teenage daughter either. I thought Onryan was my age when I first met her. What is even crazier is that I was able to stay at her apartment because her 16-year-old son was at soccer camp!

After dinner we hung out in Onryan's living room where I proceeded to argue with her daughter about J-pop. J-pop for those of you who don't know is Japanese Pop Music. It's basically the equivalent of Britany Spears and Justin Timberlake except in Japanese and with much less rhythmic dancing. Frankly I find J-pop to be hilarious. The costumes and make-up are over the top and just to reiterate, the dancing is awful!

The next morning I woke up early and went to Tsukiji Fish Market (I'll blog about that experience tomorrow). After the market I walked all over the city. First I went to eat monja, an okonomiyaki like dish that Masumi recommended I eat in Tokyo. There is a "monja street" in Tokyo that has about thirty different monja restaurants.

(PICTURE: My monja street map in front of the restaurant Masumi recommended.)

Masumi had recommended one to me but unfortunately it was closed. I then had to choose another on my own and selected the one with the most newspaper clippings about it posted in front. Perhaps this was a bad idea because although it was delicious, it was quite expensive.

(PICTURE: How could I not go into this one? Look at all the press it got!)

(PICTURE: Me with my expensive but delicious monja.)

After lunch I walked across the city to the Emperor's Palace. You can't actually go into the palace but there is one really picturesque view of it that one can soak in for a few minutes:

(PICTURE: The Emperor's Palace.)

I had intended to go to the East Gardens of the Palace but unfortunately they were closed on Mondays (Thanks for the heads up Lonely Planet).

After my failed entrance into the gardens I jumped on the subway and headed towards Asakusa. Asakusa is the most famous temple in Tokyo...it is also the most crowded with tourists. When I entered the grounds of Asakusa I realized that I had already surpassed my quota of temples. I think I literally breathed a giant sigh and muttered, "Great another temple." That said, it was a cool temple but it is hard to find peace and tranquility with thousands of tourists snapping away silly photos and buying overpriced souvenirs.

(PICTURE: The tourist path to Asakusa.)

Finally at night I headed back to Kokubunji and ate the only appropriate last meal in Japan -- Korean food. Onryan, her friends and I ate at an amazing Korean restaurant. The coolest part, besides the food, was that we all got to wear bibs like we were eating lobster. Oh, Mom, you'd really have liked this dinner. No, not because of the food but because all three of the people I ate with are occupational therapists (FYI: My mom is a physical therapist).

(PICTURE: Onryan, her friends and me eating Korean food.)

Miyajima

The Japanese say there are three great sites in Japan. In my second week in Koryama I went to one of the three places -- Matsushima. As you may recall, I thought it was pretty overrated and basically a tourist trap. You can read about my experience in Matsushima here.

While in Hiroshima I had the opportunity to go to the 2nd great site -- Miyajima. Miyajima, unlike Matsushima, was indeed breathtaking. Miyajima is famous for the giant orange floating tori gate in front of Itsukushima Shrine. I got to the island early in the morning which meant it was still low tide. Since the water wasn't up to the shore yet I was able to walk almost all the way up to the tori. By the time I left the island, the tori was completely surrounded by water.

As great as the tori was, the highlight of the day was hiking up to Mt. Misen. The hike took approximately an hour and a half and was straight uphill. There was a cable car to the top which I decided not to take. When I got to the top of the mountain I was dripping in sweat...whereas everyone else seemed to be pretty fine considering they just had to walk fifteen minutes from the cable car station.

Minorities in Japan

When it comes to minorities, there is a huge difference between America and Japan. In America, if you are born in America you are American. In America, if you go through the naturalization process you are American. One of the great things about America is that it is a collection of people from all over the world who can call themselves American. This is not the case in Japan.

In Japan, you are only considered Japanese if you are of Japanese descent. No matter how long your family has lived in Japan you are not Japanese unless your genes are Japanese. I had first heard about this from my friend MyongFa about a year and a half ago. I was very confused as she told me that she was born in Japan but was Korean. She went to a Korean school and had a Korean passport. During my travels in Japan, I met many other Korean people. In fact, I hung out with Koreans in three different cities. All of the Koreans I met were the second or third generation born in Japan. However, none of them had a Japanese passport. Like me, a temporary worker in the country, they had to carry an ID card at all times.

Think about this for a second: In my family, I am the third generation born in America. All of my grandparents were the first generation born in the country with their parents having immigrated from different countries in Eastern Europe. I consider myself to be an America. My parents consider themselves to be Americans. My grandparents consider themselves to be Americans. All of us hold American passports -- or are eligible to hold American passports -- and all of us call ourselves American. However, if our situations were identical in Japan, none of us would hold Japanese passports and none of us would call ourselves Japanese.

The irony of this blog post -- and yes this is a big generalization -- is that the Japanese are in denial about themselves since the Japanese are ALL of either Korean or Chinese descent originally.