Shibuya crossing, indeed. Tokyo

Ever since Tyra brought the up and coming young models of America’s Next Top Model: Cycle 3 to Tokyo, it has been very high on my Places I Desperately Must See list. (You remember Cycle 3. When the ladies meet Taye Diggs?! Of course you do.) And I must say, after our visit to Tokyo, it is sitting very comfortably near the top of my Favorite Cities in the World list. Patience, fair reader. Let me tell you why.

view from our apartment. can you spot Mt. Fuji?!

We stayed in an area of Tokyo called Shibuya, a very hip, youth culture centered neighborhood. The streets of Shibuya are a world unto themselves. The fashion alone was enough to fill my people watching fix. The styles on women and men alike were bright and funky and bold. There were jumbotron videos playing at the enormous intersection called Shibuya Crossing, sometimes showcasing One Direction (love this place), sometimes America’s Funniest Home Videos style masterpieces. And the best part about these enormous intersections? All traffic stops and everyone crosses at once! Hundreds of people are suddenly walking both directions and diagonally across the center of the street. It is EXACTLY like the zombie apocalypse. Sights and exploration aside, Shibuya has been my favorite place in which to simply wander and enjoy.

Shibuya Crossing at night, photo courtesy of the internet

Stumbling upon hidden gems (often missed by wealthier people who explore by paying for things like museums and events) has become something of a specialty of ours. One was a Sega building, filled wall to wall with video games, and both adult and teen players. Chris and I found particular joy in the taiko drum games, but also in watching these crazy teens play.

we destroyed the "let it go" level.

Another sweet gem for a relaxing Shibuyan evening was found in a Shisha Bar, or Hookah Bar, called North Village Books. Yes, you read that correctly. It was a room filled with comfy couches, tiny tables and a haze of flavored smoke in the air. And hidden at the top of every wall was a narrow shelf stacked with books, presumably for purchase. Similar to the coffee shops in Amsterdam that sell marijuana, it seems hookah bars are illegal, and for plausible deniability, they must also be a bookstore.

see the books? 

The culture was strangely divided into male and female activities. There are host/hostess bars where attractive people are paid to sit and flirt with patrons, making more money the more the customer spends on booze in the host’s company. There are separate skyscraper department stores advertised as “men’s” or “women’s”. There was a section of the Sega store for women only (or couples) where young, frustratingly petite women could check out costumes, then try them on and take pictures with their friends. But the most embarrassing example of this segregation we discovered in an attempt to watch a movie. Jessie (remember Jessie, our friend and guide to all things Korean?) told us about these DVD rooms they have in Korea, where couples go on dates, or sometimes groups of friends go just to hang out. They are essentially small rooms with big couches, big televisions and a big selection of DVDs for rent. We saw a DVD room advertised on the street in Tokyo and thought, “cool! Let’s go rent a movie!” It turns out this is a different activity in Tokyo. We entered a large room, filled almost exclusively with row upon row of porn DVDs. A gentleman shouted at us for a few moments before we realized he was saying “men only”. I guess in Tokyo, DVD room is code for Just For Men Masturbation Station.

boyfriend has mad chop stick skills

Speaking of sticky situations, we had a hell of a time trying new food in Tokyo.  We reverted to our typical “order by pointing at tasty looking photos” tactic and received some truly fantastic food. At one restaurant we placed our order at a vending machine outside, then went in and handed our ticket to the chef. This one took a few minutes (and some spying on locals) to figure out. But the most exciting place we discovered was Smile Sushi. As someone who has thrown up in a sushi restaurant parking lot in the past, I was hesitant to try again in public. But the chance to eat sushi in Tokyo was too much to pass up, so I gave it another shot and was very pleasantly surprised. We were handed numbers upon entering and sat at a bar facing a conveyor belt and a computer screen. We individually ordered on our screen, then waited for our food to zip over to us via speedy conveyor belt. The most delicious things I ate were the basil mayonnaise salmon and the squid with mentaiko mayo. And fear not, friendly reader. I did not vomit on the premises, or anywhere else for that matter, so I guess sushi is back in play for this belly.

the beauty in Asakusa

One clear, sunny afternoon we ventured away from the many wonders of Shibuya to an area called Asakusa. Here we wandered through a garden with many shrines to ancient temples. The architecture was intricate and the colors bold. It was fun to compare these temples to ones we’d seen in Korea and discuss our new found knowledge. Also in Asakusa were many “good fortune” activities. We pulled scrolls from a wall of drawers and read our fortunes (a Japanese man informed me that the scroll I pulled was the best fortune! He then looked at Chris’ and said his was “pretty good too"). We drank from a fountain of good fortune and wafted towards ourselves what I can only assume was smoke from the fires of good fortune. All in all the visit made us feel pretty lucky to be together and alive and in Tokyo that lovely day. 

 As we neared the end of our visit, I started to notice the differences in how we travel. Differences from other explorers, but also differences from ourselves, four months ago. Less and less we sought out American themes or English writing. We frequented Japanese restaurants, non-touristy shops, and neighborhoods where the locals go. One night we visited a British pub to get some wifi and plan the next leg of our journey. It was by far the most western group we’d seen since arriving in Japan. I am proud Chris and I have found a way to feel comfortable in a very foreign land. We have learned to ignore the things that make us uncomfortable, the inevitable moments when a language barrier causes us to have to turn around and leave a shop because we simply cannot communicate. Or perhaps we don’t ignore our discomforts, but we now embrace them as a part of what is important and necessary. That feeling out of place has helped us learn more than paying for a hop on hop off bus tour and eating at the local TGI Fridays ever would. So, raise your glass of saké to the world getting a little bit smaller. 

lovefromkatie

Seoul Patch

The "keep off" sign on this bridge was comically small. It was more a dare than a warning.

South Korea was a series of firsts for me. We have bounced through eleven European countries with ten different languages, but they all shared a similar alphabet so if necessary we could slaughter our way through a word, plus thankfully "kebab" is basically universal. Seoul was my first experience with a language that used a completely different set of characters that I had absolutely no handle on. But the reason we made this stop was to see our friend Jessie, who has been teaching English in Uijeongbu (just outside of Seoul) since June. Fun fact. Uijeongbu has two American military bases nearby and was the setting for M*A*S*H*. Jessie became our window to understanding not only the language but also the country and the culture.

This is Jessie. She insists that throwing up the peace sign is "The Korean Way." We would hear that phrase a lot this trip. Some would say too often.

Katie spoke on the difficulties we had feeling comfortable in Istanbul, but what's strange is that, physically, we fit in. If you didn't hear our American accents or hear me refer to the Packers as a "football" team, our dark features (and killer mustaches) would make you assume we could be from Turkey or a number of nearby places. But we still felt like we stuck out like sore American thumbs. Compare that to Korea, where we were often literally the only white people on a crowded subway, but never did we feel unwanted or out of place. Growing up in central Wisconsin, at a school whose diversity left every year with our foreign exchange students, this was the first time in life where I was solidly in the racial minority. But there were no glances. No aside whispers. Instead people were eager to talk to us, the most notable was a man who was terribly excited to use the very little English he had to talk to me about the LA Dodgers. It was nice to feel so welcome in a place that seemed so foreign.

Although to be honest I did stand out a bit. Mainly because I kept sitting on the ground in the middle of the street.

Thanksgiving was tough for me. This was the first year Katie or I wouldn't be with our families, but being with a friend made it feel much more like we were home. The three of us and our new friend Heather went out for a big thanksgiving dinner that night. Since Thanksgiving isn't celebrated in Korea, we had to substitute fried chicken for turkey, sausage and peppers for potatoes, and egg rolls for stuffing. The food didn't matter as much as being surrounded by loved ones. Afterward we went back to Jessie's and stayed up til 5am talking about our families and futures. The highlight of the night was when I pulled up a stream of the Lions Bears game, and Heather went into near hysterics in the joy of seeing football for the first time all year. It's amazing how the little things mean so much to you when you're away from home. Plus the Bears lost, which always cheers everyone up.

Normally I'd be in Marshfield punishing my siblings in Mario Kart, but I'll settle for heart to hearts on a heated floor.

Staying up late became the norm since Jess worked until 10pm every night, so Katie and I would often sleep in until 4pm, (Jess had to be up at 11am because she's a chump) but we would be out until 5am every night. One night around 3am we found a special karaoke bar (called a No Ri Bong) where instead of listening to strangers mangling country songs, you pay $20 to rent a solo room and mangle whatever songs you want. So we spent the next 60 minutes belting out the few English songs they had, which was mostly Frozen, One Direction, and the occasional Savage Garden (arguably one of their deeper tracks too). We left with our voices ravaged and cameras full of blackmail videos of each other.

Good friends don't judge

Speaking of mangling your body, throughout this entire trip, we've been adventurous when it comes to trying new and strange food, often by just ordering something randomly and hoping it isn't terrible. However, having Jessie as our safari guide in Korea was extremely helpful because we would have been helpless. For example, if you walked into a Korean restaurant and sat down by yourself you probably wouldn't be served because the waiter would have assumed you were waiting for someone else as people don't eat in restaurants alone. Tough break, lonely people.

We also met my former coworker in Seoul to perform important international Comcast business.
(He's the one with the weaker mustache)

She was also there to teach one of us what was a soup and what was a dipping sauce (in my defense they look identical). My favorite experience is the Korean Barbecue, where a group of 3-4 people share a table grill to cook up various types of meat, which are then covered in sauces and wrapped in leaves of lettuce and typically only costs about $15 total. It DID however ravage its way through your digestive system. Jessie later told us that we tried the amount of foods in 5 days that she did over the course of two months. Oh and many restaurants don't have bathrooms so you need to grab some toilet paper from a roll by the door, and then walk half a block away to a dark unmarked hallway with a one person stall at the end of the building. If you go to Korea any time soon, bring Imodium. Also probably toilet paper.

South Korea is known for their corn dogs. They're like normal corn dogs but they're also dipped in sugar. Basically diabetes.

Jessie also taught us about how to drink. In Korea instead of ordering individual drinks, you order ONE bottle of beer (makju) and ONE bottle of liquor (soju) for the table. Soju tastes like a watered down vodka and is consumed in shots or by mixing it with your beer (the combination is called somek) kind of like dropping a shot glass in an Irish Carbomb. Before you open the soju, you elbow the bottom of the bottle and then swing the bottle around in a tight circle until you see a little tornado develop inside. Once you crack it open, it's customary to dump the first bit out (often on the restaurant floor) because it's bad luck to drink the beginning of the bottle. That or Jess was just messing with us. Either is possible.

We are also much taller than everyone here so we must have looked like giants in this pic. 

We had a great time trying new foods, exploring the country, and climbing 1.4 km straight up to the highest point in Korea, but we could have spent the whole week inside Jessie's studio apt eating Pringles and dried squid, and it still would have been one of the better parts of our trip. 

CM

The West and the East. Istanbul

a furry friend we met along the way.

They say ignorance is bliss. In a world of travel and exploration, where every part of you is yearning for knowledge of the culture into which you are becoming submerged, I would beg the opposite. However, in an effort to inform myself as much as possible before traveling to Istanbul, I stumbled upon an article. This article told the story of three young American sailors in Istbanbul, just days before we were set to arrive. While wandering a busy city street, the three men had paint dumped over their heads while hearing screams of “Go home, yanks!” While the Turkish government condemned the actions of a hateful few, this anti-American sentiment seeped into my brain and enveloped our visit to Turkey. 

fishermen on this bumpin bridge where we took our ferry

As unfortunate as the feeling was, we were able to enjoy some truly remarkable sights in Turkey. Our first night we arrived around 11pm, worried everything would be closed and we wouldn’t be able to find anything to eat after a long travel day. However, our street was brightly lit with decorative colored lights and full of music and people. Shops and restaurants were packed too, not just clubs and bars. And the pedestrian walking street was full of people as though it were rush hour. It was bright and bubbly and beautiful. The downside was that the streets were also full of lone homeless children, something we soon learned was painfully common. We started and ended each day on this street, as it led from our apartment all the way down to the water. 

our host met us here at 11pm, despite us being an hour late!

One of the coolest things we did in our area of Istanbul was take a ferry tour along the Bosphorous strait between Asia and Europe. Before this visit I did not realize Turkey sat on both continents! The coolest part for me was passing under the intercontinental bridge. This side: Europe. This side: Asia. Sailing through, looking at two continents at once was a strangely exciting experience. We couldn't understand the descriptions of what we were hearing over the loud speaker, so we tried to look things up on our own, and took to making up historical facts about the beautiful buildings surrounding us. 

the bridge. shall we cross continents today?

Not everyone in Turkey was anti-American. In fact, salesmen made it very clear that they wanted to talk to us once we were in sight of their shops. Street shopping was very big in Istanbul, but the coolest, most overwhelming part was the Grand Bazaar. The Bazaar had over 4,000 shops, slammed into a labyrinth of narrow corridors. On your left, a fifteen-foot-high wall of rainbow colored scarves, on your right, a precariously perched array of beautifully hand painted dishes. There was jewelry and ornaments and lamps and instruments and even a few cafes. Passing through the shouting men I felt like Jasmine when walking through the market in Aladdin (sugar dates? Sugar dates and figs?! Sugar dates and pistaaaacccios).  We spent about three hours in that Bazaar and left with our arms full and our pockets light.

just outside the bazaar: more shops!

One dreary day we walked to The Sultan Ahmed Mosque, or The Blue Mosque, a famously beautiful Muslim house of worship. We arrived just in time for the call to prayer, meaning the mosque was closed to visitors. At first we were disappointed in our poor planning skills, but then a man handed us a flyer for a free presentation at the information center beside the mosque. As it was raining and the center boasted free refreshments, we thought what the hell? Gotta kill time before we can see inside, anyway. Yes, the dry air and hot tea was most welcome, but I was pleasantly surprised by the succinct, well-delivered presentation. In thirty minutes, we learned basic points on a world of topics, including The Blue Mosque, Islam and its similarities and differences to other religions, Muslim prayer rituals, and different practices around the world. 

rainy day reflections

When we finally entered the mosque we felt as though we’d taken a semester long course on the place, recognizing the art and script on the walls, and pointing out other facts we’d just learned as we walked around. As in many Catholic churches we’d visited, there was a dress code to enter, for which I, like always, was too scantily clad. I was given a cloth to cover my legs, and both Chris and I removed our shoes to walk inside. My words nor our photos can properly describe the interior of the Blue Mosque. You’ll just have to go see it for yourself. But it was remarkable. This day of beauty, knowledge, exploring religion and the conversations with my husband over gluhwein afterwards was one of my favorites of our months of travel thus far.

in the visitor's section 

So, perhaps sometimes ignorance is bliss. Had I not read the anti-American article days before arriving in Istanbul, maybe I wouldn’t have felt as though I stood out as the only blonde-ish person at the airport in a sea of staring eyes. Maybe I wouldn’t have dyed my hair dark on our first night. Maybe I would’ve enjoyed outbursts of friendly laughter in the street instead of worrying over a rowdy crowd. While my perception of Turkey was dimmed by my mindset going in, it still resides on my list of places to which I’d like to return. As my friend Kent said (in a message with an alarming number of typos for a teacher. Get it together, Canada), “it really is where east meets west, physically and culturally.” I like to learn about everywhere we visit, and maybe it was because we finally got out of the rain, but I felt like I definitely learned a lot here, and that I have so much further to go.

 lovefromkatie