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