Kermit does Japan

Some people wonder how I can travel in foreign countries alone. Don't you get lonely, they ask. The answer is no, I don't get lonely. Because I'm never actually alone; I have a travel buddy that comes with me everywhere. And here is his video:



Kermit does Japan from Audrey on Vimeo.

The perfect home

I want a charming Victorian with bay windows and period detail. A working fireplace and a marble mantle. Sconces are nice. A big bedroom with lots of light. A kitchen with turn-of-the-century charm and modern appliances. A breakfast nook. Washer and dryer.

All within walking distance of cafes, restaurants, bars, a grocery store and public transportation.

For under $1200/month.

Is that so much to ask? Oh, I’d also like it in San Francisco.

Old friend

It’s funny how cities are so much like people.

Coming back to San Francisco has felt like seeing an old friend. A friend I really love. A friend I get and who gets me.

Of course, I still miss New York. New York is like the exciting hot guy you just started dating. It’s exciting. You’re not quite sure what to expect, but you’re having fun.

But San Francisco is comfortable. It’s beautiful. And, most importantly, it’s home. Now if I could only find a home here for less than a million dollars.

It struck me today how I decided to leave a great home and an awesome job to be homeless and unemployed. It’s a little bit crazy. And a little bit scary. But as I sit here in Dolores Park café, watching a guy practice his tightrope walking in the park across the street, I’m thinking that it’s one of the best decisions I’ve made in a long time.

And that I hope that guy hasn't quit his day job.

Aim high

Ah San Francisco, where the skies are a little but foggier, the homeless are a little bit kookier, and my heart is a little bit happier.

Today I passed a man sleeping on the sidewalk. He had holes in his shoes, tangles in his long beard and dirt caked on his face. Above him, he'd taped a cardboard sign on which he had written in thick black marker: "Will work 4 $120K/year."

It's good to be home.

Japanese memories

I realize that many of my Japanese postings were negative in tone. And yes, I had many mishaps and confusing times. But I do not blame this on Japan – it was more my fault for not speaking Japanese. I don’t want people like Filip, the rock and roll Polish dude that I jammed out with in Fukuaka on Tuesday night, to think that I don’t like Japan.

There are many things I loved about Japan. Here are the top ten:

1. Breakfast fish

2. Chanting monks

3. Giant Buddha

4. Mini sushi

5. Adorable street signs (see dejected cigarette with sad little hands in pockets)

6. Friendly deer

7. Friendly travelers

8. Their undying love of Hello Kitty (here HK is dressed like a giant, black egg)

9. Kyoto sunsets

10. And my number 1, favorite thing about Japan: Purikura (funnest photomachine ever!)


All that being said, it feels damn good to be home.

Escape from the cities

I think I found the prettiest place in all of Japan.

It's a little island just off the coast of Fukoaka (the coolest city in all of Japan). This little island, Nozo-something-or-other, has a population of 800. Just 800 people, wild flowers, gorgeous ocean views and very relaxed bunnies.

It also has some wooden signs, but they're all entirely in Japanese. There's something fun about not being able to read the signs. It feels like people are trying to tell you something, but you're not entirely sure what.

In train stations and on city streets, this is feeling is incredibly frustrating. But on a remote island, it was very freeing. It meant which meant I was free to do as I pleased. The signs probably said "Don't walk here, freshly mowed grass." Or, "Beware of attack-rabbits." But I couldn't read them, so I spent the afternoon walking blissfully among nature. Oh, the joys of ignorance.

What does a fish say?

"In America,” I explained last night to the cute Japanese bartenders. “We take the head off before eating the fish."

Lewis, the African-American bar-owner serving as my translator, repeated this novel idea in fluent Japanese.

The bartenders looked confused and said something to Lewis. He laughed and turned to me, "They want to know how you eat the eyes then."

"Yeah, in America we don't usually eat the eyes," I shook my head at the bartenders."No eat eye."

The bartenders were shocked.

"In Japan, that's considered the best part of the fish." Lewis explained with a smile. Incidentally, I ate my first fishhead that night, eyes and all, at the local street stand with my new found buddies. It wasn't that bad. Crunchy.

In the midst of our cultural-differences talk, my favorite conversation to have while traveling, the inevitable topic arose... what do your animals say? This is always a fun one at first. Turns out that Japanese dogs bark "Wang wang," cats "Neow," and pigs "Bu bu." I can give them the Wang and the Neow, but Bu? A pig so does not say "Bu."

Then the embarrassing moment arose when the conversation turned to chickens. Japanese roosters, apparently, wake up proudly each morning with a "kokokai." I know that French chickens have a dignified "Cocorico."

I suddenly felt like David Sedaris in his short story on this topic, "When told that an American rooster says 'cock-a-doodle-doo,' my hosts look at me with disbelief and pity."

Whatever, you eat fish eyes.

Americatown

Yesterday I spent the afternoon in Osaka's Amerikamura (Americatown). I've spent enough time in Japantown and Chinatown at home, I wanted to see how Americatown compared.

I wondered among the vintage T-shirt shops and record stores, feeling not at all like I was in America. Then sat to down to join all the cool Japanese kids in Triangle Park eating takoyaki (fried octopus balls) because that's exactly what my friends and I always do on Sunday afternoons in the States.



The takoyaki was a little chewy and tentacly for my taste.



Actually it made me feel a little nauseous. So I gave it to the pigeons and went to order something else to cleanse my palate. I saw some kids eating a taco-like item so ordered one of those. Turns out it was an octopus taco. Maybe there was some confusion when I ordered, the word for octopus being "tako" and all.



Speaking of getting America totally wrong, check out this menu item from the restaurant I went to in Nagasaki.



Funny, in my whole 15 months in New York, I never once ate Kalbi with leek and salt. In fact, I don't even know what it is.

Geisha-peeping

Kyoto is the cultural heart of Japan. While Tokyo and Osaka are alive with flashing neon billboards and giant shopping malls, Kyoto maintains the romance of a Japan that's mostly gone - the narrow cobblestone alleys, the lantern-lit teahouses, and the geisha.

I am fascinated by these carefully trained entertainers and was hoping to see one in Kyoto, although apparently they're a dying breed. According to my guidebook, Kyoto, the geisha capital, only has about 100 left. This is why I was beyond thrilled when Jolanka, Cameron and I stumbled into a tiny restaurant in the Gion area where two Geisha's sat eating at the counter.

We were transfixed watching the way they carefully ate so as not to smudge their make up. At first we were too shy to approach them and sat quiety eating our sashimi. A couple hours and many glasses of sake later, I worked up the guts to talk to them, and even ask to take a photo. They were more than happy to oblige.

I felt like I was in the presence of a celebrity. These women are carrying out an ancient Japanese tradition, and they looked so beautiful and elegant. Plus, they made even Jolanka look tan.

Jafan

I'll be honest, up to this point, I was not the biggest fan of Japan (JaFan?) Yes, I've seen some amazing things. But overall, this country and I have not been getting along. In fact it's been kicking my ass at every turn.

That was, until I met Fukuoka.

Yeah, I'd never heard of it either. But it's an amazing city.

Japan, you have redeemed yourself.

Not a common sight in Japan

Beppu is a town famous for its hotsprings. From the bubbling mud pits that gurgle up steam and sludge to the Onsen, the traditional Japanese public baths. These baths are very enjoyable and relaxing - soaking in the open air, letting the naturally hot water ease your tired muscles.

For me though, these Onsen mean one thing - room after room full of naked Japanese ladies pretending not to stare at my super-sized American boobies.

Yeah, that's right gals, everything is bigger in America. Not just our cars and soda cups.

Why is it so hard?

Nothing is ever easy in Japan. Nothing. EVER. At least not for a foreigner that speaks no Japanese. But once you resign yourself to that fact, traveling through this wacky country becomes much more enjoyable.

I`ve found that you must accept that if you tell the waiter you`re vegetarian, chances are, he`ll bring you squid pancakes.

You must recognize the likelihood that as soon as you spend your last 1000 yen bill, none of the ATMs for a mile radius will take your card.

You must embrace the fact that if you`re attempting to travel from Nagasaki to Beppu, not only is it possible that every train that day is cancelled, it`s actually probable. And you will find yourself paying for a four hour bus ride when the two hour train trip would have been free with your Japan Rail Pass. Nor must you be shocked when the bus you`re on does not in fact stop in Beppu, or maybe it did and you missed it because you do not speak Japanese, and you end up in a completely different city. One you`ve never heard of, in which you have no place to stay, and it`s getting dark.

This, my friends, this is just another day of travel in Japan. It`s never easy.

Images of Japan

It's so hard to put Japan into words, so I'm not going to try. But here are some pictures of the funny/scary/amazing things I've seen in the last couple days.

A Buddhist cemetery.


Dinner.


The only building still left standing after the Atom bomb dropped on Hiroshima in 1945.

????

Language barrier

Getting by in Japan without speaking any Japanese hasn't been TOO bad. Sure, figuring out which train station to get off at has been a challenge (on our way to Koyasan yesterday we got off at the wrong station twice. TWICE in one journey). And matching up street names to the map is sort of like deciphering a secret code.

But most signs are written in English too, and people here seem to speak enough to understand things like "Where is the bathroom?" "More sake please." and "Can you take a picture of me and Kermit?"

However, when it comes to more complicated phrases like "Does this gelatinous cube contain meat?" and "Sorry we missed the 6am Buddhist ceremony; our alarm clock didn't go off," we're sort of at a loss.

To have a cleaning tool of colorful and cute

One of my favorite parts of traveling through Japan is reading all the hilarious English translations. I do not mean to mock the Japanese nor their language skills. Believe me, I'm not one to talk - I've been here four days and the only thing I've learned to say is "Thank you."

But how can I resist posting pictures of these signs in a country where crepes are "Fleecy and softened," cleaning tools are "In a mood of picnic," and visitors are "smoked?"

Then there are the Japanese T-shirt that try to fit as many cool American words in as possible, regardless of whether or not they make sense.

In case you can't read that jumble, it says "Violation hamburger ryhme island hamburger it will make you crazy and being insanity."

The four food groups

My travels through Japan have brought me to Kyoto, where I'm staying at a Ryokan, a traditional Japanese Guesthouse. Part of the fun of the Ryokan is that they feature traditional Japanese style baths (bathe with your buddies), traditional Japanese-style rooms (make yourself comfy on the floor), and traditional Japanese-style clothesm which are surprisingly comfortable.

Most importantly, the Ryokan serves us traditional Japanese-style food. Now, I like to think of myself as an adventurous eater, but I've discovered that the Kyoto-style of cooking features four major food groups: pickled, gelatinous, covered-in-slime, and still-in-possession-of-its-eyes. Sometimes they like to combine these food groups with a lovely, slimy gelatinous fish cube. Yum.

Kyoto is amazing though, full of beautiful temples, enchanting lantern-lit streets and tonight I saw the prettiest sunset I've ever seen. Complete with a traditional Japanese rainbow.

Examining tickets machine

You'd think that the Tokyo Metro would be really confusing for ignorant tourists like myself. But luckily, many of the important signs are written in English. Like this helpful sign that explains how to transfer to the Asakusa line.



After reading this, Cate and I were still a little confused. Luckily, there was another sign to explain it further.



Oh, gee. Thanks for clearing that up.

Welcome to Japan

After a ridiculously long and complicated day, I made it to Tokyo alive. So far so good. I like it. It's colorful. And tall.

Sorry, haven't been here long enough to formulate any more of an opinion than that. And I'm too tired from all the travel to write coherently.

But, here are a few things that have made me smile so far:

Having to declare swords on the customs form.



And of course, the lovely combo in the bathroom: