As such, I figured I'd take a different approach to this post and think about the attraction or distractions of this city from his point of view. Or more broadly, from the guys point of view.
A Guy's Guide to Tokyo
1) Samurai Swords
This fall, T and I will have been together for ten years. For roughly five of those, I have forced him to watch two hours of Antique Roadshow weekly. And while we've been known to collect the random trinket and manly accoutrement here and there (read: English maps and ostrich eggs), I had no idea T harbored a burning desire to collect swords as well. Well, he does. And if you are a guy, I think this country just might stir it up in you too.
Leave it to the romance of Shinto shrines, Shogunate palaces and woodcuts with grimacing Samurai to pique the latent sword collector. T convinced me there were four great practical reasons why we should get a Samurai sword: a) we like to collect things (I think this is circular reasoning), b) it'll look real cool above his desk c) it's a piece of art (kind like the real piece of art we currently have hanging above his desk) and my personal favorite, d) as a form of personal protection (you know - just in case someone wrestles down our doorman and blows out the triple lock on our apartment door, which is religiously secured).
It was like a kid in a candy store, or like my little brother with his first lacrosse stick. And I guess it really is that cool.
2) Culinary Bravado
Speaking of cool, there are some serious bragging rites to be earned here for anyone with an iron stomach. I've already alluded to this a bit already, but food here is seriously wack and if you can eat it, it's worth getting some street cred for. For example, one of the more intimidating dishes we all had the pleasure of eating was fish head. When this came out as part of an omakase style dinner the other night, you could almost feel the dread hanging in the air as we suspiciously eyed - eye to eye - our dinner.
At this point though, my brother had acquired a rather worldly approach to food. Namely "If i
ts cooked, I'll try it." This is saying a lot from a college kid whose largest food group is comprised of Cheese Danishes and Grande Burrito Supremes. So with a swagger, he took a snap shot (for his Facebook page) and dug in. Literally dug in, because the meat on a fish head is in all these weird places, like behind the face, and in front of the pectoral fin and my personal favorite, the "oyster" of meat located between the eyeball and the gills.
To the chef's credit, and the fish's credit I guess, it was damn good. And to my brothers credit, he did himself damn proud, with an after snapshot to accompany the before.
Not to be outdone, my husband topped off his pickled seaweed and cheese-covered octopus ball eating odyssey with another first - eating eyeballs - and popped that fish head's sucker right in his mouth.
For the record, since that evening, our party has since decided that burgers, pizzas and steak are the way to finish out our time in Japan.
3) So Damn Expensive
Just know that if you offer to buy a round of anything in this country, it will be about seven times more expensive than you are planning for. For example, after our brush with the culinary outer limits, we decided that a burger at our hotel bar sounded real good.
This hotel bar is rather cool because it on the 52nd floor overlooking Tokyo and had some decent jazz band playing. On top of that, it was immortalized in Lost in Translation, and who doesn't love walking in the foot steps of a good, sullen, alcoholic Bill Murray?
Well, a couple rounds of drinks, dinner and 800,000 Yen later, you remember that this city really is damn expensive. And unfortunately, this is the rule, not the exception. Cabs for example - the starting fare is $7.10. So what if they are wearing white gloves and have doilies on their headrests?
4) Akihabara
To a certain subset of guys, Akihabara Electric Town is very cool and relevant. To another subset of guys, this is a cultural anthropological adventure. We had both sets of the spectrum in our party (I believe our stint here was fundamental to T's Post-Post theory. See Comments).
It's like you made an entire neighborhood of Tokyo into a video arcade. Aside from girls wearing strange French maid costumes with kitty-cat ears, there were rolls and rolls of electrical wire, rows and rows of video game character figurines and other merchandise. And floors and floors of pre-teen to middle aged dudes, hunched over consoles and ashtrays, killing each other anonymously. As if this wasn't enough, almost anything you purchased was in vending machines of those "bear claw" style, which I haven't seen since the last time I was tempted to buy a stuffed animal at a bowling alley.
We were shocked. We were awed. For those of us who went into the fray and played a game, we were sitting ducks and suckers, picked off by the network of gamers sitting around us. But my brother kept saying, "This place really isn't that bad. It's kinda cool." In fact, he reminded us that this place was just like the place he had worked - a place called Ether - give or take a little bit.
5.) The Tuna Auction
Within our party, both of the men of working age are traders (or have been most recently traders) for a living. And there is something about that profession that really translates, no matter what you are trading. Take fish for example.
At the Tsukiji Fish Market - the largest fish market in the world - fresh caught and frozen tuna is auctioned off each morning. And it was quite a sight to see. Pre-market open, there was chatter, research. Men bent over the tuna, cutting a small piece off to rub between their fingers to ascertain the fattiness of the meat. They stood in galoshes; they sized up the market. And with the opening bell at 5:45 AM they got down to business.
The auctioneers work for the fishing companies. The bidders are middle men, who process (mostly by hand, the jig-saw, or the sword) the tuna , and sell it to restaurants or other retail stores. At any given time, an auctioneer will have ten to twenty fish to move, which typically go for about 7,000 yen a kilo. And it is all over in the rapid-fire space of ten minutes.
The closest auctioneer stood on top of a stool, wore a baseball-hat rally-cap style, and really got into his work. His whole arm shook as he rang the bell. He stamped his foot as he accepted the final offer. He worked the crowd and moved his fish.
It was awesome. We left there and my husband said, "I'd kinda like to give it a go..."
How about Tokyo from a girl's perspective...an anti social one?
ReplyDeleteI loved Tokyo, the quiet hugeness of it all. Of having all the amenities of a large city, but none of the noise, or filth, or annoying people. No screaming, shouting or honking. No nutters from Long Island screaming "Hey Dina look! There's a Mister Frosty" while running you over chasing down an ice cream truck on Central Park South. No abrasive shoves on the sidewalks or better yet on the subways. Everything worked like a charm, trains ran on time and they were silent...no one spoke on the train. When cell phones ran people exited the train car and returned after the call ended, it was glorious. No one spoke unless spoken to and everyone had a gentile smile...maybe part of that was the language barrier. But whatever it was, I'll take it...in size.
I agree with the strangeness of the culture/country...the "post post" of it all. The cat ears, bright colors, obsession with Hello Kitty...the entire country is the star of its own cartoon. I just merely enjoyed the show :)