Lost in Translation Part II

I write this update in the smoky internet cafe across the street from the Okurayama apartment. It is strange that with all of the social graces and advances of Japan, there is still smoking in most restaurants and the bullet trains all have smoking cars and designated smoking areas.

While Mark and Kamaya were working Saturday, I went into the Shibuya and Harajuku area of Tokyo. I walked to the Meiji shrine and saw not one but two Japanese wedding processions. The information boards in Japan are all oriented to face the direction relative to where you are standing and this means that the top of the map is not necessarily north. That took me off course a couple of times before I figured it out. Now it is actually really helpful. However, fate is an interesting thing because the second time I was off course, and really fed up with how big Tokyo is, I saw somebody that I knew. No joke. The year I was at Trinity, he was head of college. It is a crazy world. He is actually moving to Hong Kong in two weeks (jealous) and will likely live abroad for a long time.

Sunday was the first day of my now activated Japan Rail Pass and thus began a very busy week of intense travelling　and walking. I am not sure my toes will forgive me any time soon. Something interesting about the Japanese politeness: it occasionally will clash with my sense of Canadian politeness. For example,　you are not supposed to talk on the phone while on any trains, and not supposed to eat or drink while walking (!) but it is perfectly acceptable to paint your toe nails on the shinkansen (bullet train). Anyway, I went to Osaka,　transfered trains,　and then continued on to Hiroshima. The train system is very detailed, and mercifully homogeneous in its design and delivery. All of the stations have the names written in Romanji (English letters) so at least I could tell where I was going. And even though many Japanese don`t like to speak English because they are shy, all of the stations have tourist information with people who will.

One thing that I have found since being here is that in some ways it is easy to navigate, until you make a wrong turn, and then it can be very difficult. For example,　the directions to my hostel from the Hiroshima train station told me to take the tram to Dobashi station and then walk in the same direction as the tram and pass two pedestrian crossings before turning left. Problem was, I wasn`t sure if the first crossing included the one I got off at...or not. And away from the main areas, there are no English signs on the streets so a map is completely useless. Many maps for travellers have landmarks instead of street names. Anyway, I asked a nice lady which street I was on and where my street was. Many Japanese can read English but can`t speak it. She took me across the street in the wrong direction but at that point I was already committed to getting her help! In a couple of minutes I had 3 helpful Japanese women trying to understand my instructions. Eventually, one asked me which hotel I was staying in and when I said J Hoppers, they all said oooooo and once of them took me right there as she walked her dog. Later on that evening I said a different Japanese women escort a group of spanish backpackers in a similar fashion.

Again, I will have to write more at a later time. It has been a very busy week.

Leslie

So, so, so Lost in Translation Part I

I know that this is my first attempt to post since arriving in Japan. But there have been a couple of reasons for this. Internet cafes are hard to find, expensive, and the Japanese keyboard drives me absolutely insane.

I am right now enjoying my last hour in Kyoto before taking the shinkansen back to Tokyo tonight. I am not even sure how to begin the telling of this part of my adventure. I left Hong Kong last week and did the most amazing thing: "City Check-in". At a couple of the major stops along the airport express route, you can check in like at the airport. So all I had to do at Kowloon station was walk up the the JAL ticket counter, like I would at an airport, and give her my luggage! No line-up! No carrying that backpack all over the HK airport. It was very civilized. I wish it was like that everywhere.

Upon arriving in Narita I followed Mark's in structions to find the Kesei line and take the Limited Express to Nippori. It's amazing that I was able to do the things necessary for this to get done. I got some cash and followed signs. But I had to laugh out loud because I have never seen so many people in an airport in my whole entire life. I got on the train and then had to sit for an hour scrutinizing each stop to see if it was "Nippori". All of the announcements were in Japanese so in the process, I learned that "Nippori des" means "this is Nippori". Anyway, Mark warned me that it would take over an hour and it did. I then got off into a station the size of Union back home (and this is a small station!) and after a few false starts eventually found the North gate where he was waiting. Good thing too because we knew that if something went wrong, we had no alternate plan. He wasn't even sure which train I was on. But it all worked out and I had my first introduction to the Tokyo subways system because it took 3 more trains and another hour to get to my apartment...or else it would have if Mark hadn't forgotten they key and we had to make a pit stop at Kamaya's office.

Since Kamaya's job as an English teacher comes with an apartment, and they live elsewhere, I have my own little tiny place about half an hour from the main subway lines of Tokyo. I don't think I can begin to describe the sheer size of this city. You can't walk around. Even a single neighbourhood is difficult and time-consumming to do walking. It just goes and goes and goes. That night we went out to their favorite sushi restaurant in Okurayama (the stop where I am) and had some fantastic sushi. My new favorite is scallop (hatake). They restaurant owner had a tendency to repeat our order very loudly and announce every dish as we ordered it and as we arrived. I have learned that this is custom and meant to show us that he approves of our choice. You can't even buy a banana without the clerk announcing the banana, the cost of the banana, how much money you are giving her, and how much money you are getting back. All in Japanese, all with little bows. It's great.

The next day was Saturday and Kamaya works Saturdays and Mark spent most of it recovering from jet-lag and preparing slides for his talk at the conference in Sapporo. So I went into Tokyo on my own and chose the neighbourhood closest to me: Shibuya. I went in to Harajuku station and walked to the Yoyogi park and saw the Meiji shrine. I saw not one but two wedding processions. Two attendants dressed in kimonos leading the way, and the bride in a gorgeous kimono with a giant head piece.

I will have to write more later. Have to go to the station. Thanks for visiting.
Leslie

A three hour tour

Yesterday afternoon I hiked up to the observation tower of Victoria Peak. It was a spurious decision that was born out of a need to explore without having any kind of concrete plan. Following instructions, I took a series of outdoor escalators up to the base of the park area and from there began to climb a series of concrete steps. I stopped counting at 350. These steps soon gave way to a concrete path that switchbacked up the side of the mountain. It has been raining for days because of the typhoon and if it hadn't been raining, I'm quite sure that it would have been so disgustingly hot that I would have turned around and gone home. But as it was I didn't see a single soul for the first 45 minutes. In fact, I started to get concerned that I would take a wrong turn and have to walk the entire way back without actually getting anywhere in the first place. But as luck would have it I ran into another hiker, 60-year old Roselyn and we accompanied each other for the next half hour or so up the main path that circles the top of the mountain. She pointed me in the direction of the scenic route around the mountain to the observation deck and I then happily followed the edge of the path around for another 45 minutes. I had gone so far that I was beginning to think that I had again lost my way. The path took me beside massive estates belong to the extremely wealthy and along the way I stopped to read the information posts about the flora and fauna of the area. I wasn't worried about getting lost exactly, but the path system is such that once you commit to a certain path, there is no going back unless you turn around. Just as I was losing faith (again) I asked some hikers where the tram terminus was and of course it was literally another 30 seconds along the path I was following.

In this country at this time of year it is a good idea to carry a change of shirt so after I cleaned myself up a bit, I enjoyed a victory latte in the coffee shop. I have to say that after walking up the hiking path and seeing hardly a soul and being surrounded by lush greenery and the calls of strange birds, the kitch of the tourist trap that is the Peak Tower Plaza seemed particularly garish and harsh to me. I rode the tram down and the entire decent took only 10 minutes. It's a very steep tram.

I hadn't really planned on hiking for a couple of hours and I felt very much done for the day when I returned home. So I did something that I think every tourist needs to do at least once here. I had a foot massage while breathing incense and reading my novel in a dark room. Releasing the tension in feet, ankles and lower legs left my ankles aching and I spent a quit night in the apartment with rain absolutely pouring outside. I think I have been as fortunate as possible with the weather here since it has been so unstable. I was able to get to Lamma for those couple of hours when it was sunny right before the typhoon clouded the sky. I got a day in at the beach, and like I said, the rain takes the edge off the heat. In Hong Kong at this time of year the rain and the air are warm so getting rained on is not the bone-chilling experience that it can be at home.

Web check-in for tomorrow's flight to Japan is done. The next post I make, will be from Tokyo.

Thanks for reading.

It was the best of times...

I write this from an internet cafe that I have found near the apartment. The entire place is full of sounds of gunfire, explosions, screams and grunt sounds that are booming out of the computers because the entire place is full of 10-year old boys. I am definitely the only adult, foreigner, and woman here and also definitely the only person doing anything other than playing Halo3.

Yesterday afternoon I decided to chance the T1 typhoon warning and take the bus to the south side of the island to Stanley. Stanley is much like I remember it and aside from visiting my favorite shops in the market and my favorite juice bar, I also tour an English tour of the Hong Kong Maritime Museum. This museum is in a historic Edwardian building that used to be in downtown Hong Kong but was packed up and transported to Stanley. The guide was terrifyingly knowledgeable and had a phenomenal memory for all things nautical. It was a treat because in addition to bringing our attention to the various models of ships through the ages, he also told us stories about how the pieces were protected during the second world war, Japanese invasion, and bombing of Hong Kong. There is a fantastic 18 metre long scroll depicting a battle where the pirates ( like the mafia on ships ) were defeated. The scroll used to be encased in a coffee table belonging to some bourgeois in Paris and was protected from all damage for the longest time. Madame Defarge, eat your heart out.

It's hard to believe that this leg if the trip is almost finished. I hope to see some of the New Territories tomorrow (weather permitting) and also spend the late afternoon and evening down in Amberdeen.

That's all for now and thanks for visiting.

Culture Shock Redux

I am writing this little update from inside a shopping mall at the base of an apartment building in Hong Kong. There are serveral places where you can get free internet for 15 or 20 minutes. Long enough to write in installments...but photos will have to wait.



I endured a very long trip from Vancouver to Hong Kong that included a 4 hour layover in Tokyo's international airport. I arrived safely and after some wandering around Hong Kong's airport for about 15 minutes after clearing immigration, I eventually found the kiosk for the shuttle bus to the hotel I had reserved for my first night here. It was a great little hotel with a glass wall in the bathroom so that I could look over the mountains and the Ngong Ping gondola while I showered. Bathrooms encased in glass seem to be more common than they should be here.



I admit that my sojourn at the airport hotel and in the suburbs of the city did not adequately prepare me for the inevitable culture shock that I encountered when I took the MTR in the old city and tried to find Adam's office with Jerry who held the key to the apartment. The little office smells like a brewery since a good third of the floor spaces was occupied with cases of Beer Lao. The security guards gave me the absolute strangest look when I wandered in there with my giant backpack with the giant Canadian flag on it. They were so convinced that I was a lost backpacker that I had to show them Adam's printout email and point to the office number on the board before they smiled and let me in.

After picking up the key I took a taxi to the apartment and I have to say that even with a map, the address and detailed instructions with landmarks given to me by Adam, we still couldn't find the apartment. I got a little freaked out when the cabbie asked me if I was staying there alone so I asked him to let me off anywhere and I would find it by foot. I blame a serious lack of sleep and food that lead to that. Also, one should never allow one's cousins to make one watch a movie about women being kidnapped and sold into the slave trade while travelling prior to ... well travelling. After Jerry convinced me that I wasn't going to get kidnapped I decided to walk around the trendy SOHO district and look for dinner. I did eventually find it in the form of a very spicy thai soup and salad. I read a book and tried to ignore that everyone in the restaurant was watching me. In fact, since I'm staying out of the tourist area this time around, I am finding that I am getting stared at a lot. Not used to that at all.

The next day was spent looking for an adaptor to charge my cell phone and camera battery and it took me to the bustling Mong Kok district. An extremely dense and too crazy to be believed area where you can get pretty much anything from T shirts to frying pans to cell phones to Nike shoes. After finding the adaptor and searching the malls in vain for my favorite clothing chain store, I went back to the apartment. Even though I have a lot of choices for transit...double decker buses with comfortable seats and air conditioning, and those crazy little toon town mini buses, I prefer the tram. There is a single streetcar track that runs along the bustling historical section of Hong Kong island. It is slow, rickety and hot and sticky but I love it because it goes so slowly that I can actually see where I am going and where I need to get off ... Whitty street...it take me about 10 minutes to get to the Sheung Wan MTR station from my place. It also kind of reminds me of the charming inefficiency of the TTC back in Toronto. This whole experience is mine for only 2 HK dollars (about 30 cents).

Saturday evening I met Barb and Ann for dinner and wandered around Mong Kok a bit. I woke up at 5:30 am (as I have every day since I got here) and visited tourist information before meeting up with some of the AYJ Global teachers and headed out to the beach at Shek O on the south side of the island. This particular beach reminds me a lot of Wasaga beach near Toronto because it is where all the 20-somethings go to strut around and splash and scream in the water. We bought some beach mats, rented an umbrella and relaxed for a couple of hours. There are some fantastic waves and breakers at that beach and I had a great time people watching and riding those waves. Again people were staring at me and it took me some time to realise that it wasn't only because I was a foreigner but also because I could swim. I felt pretty bad for a man from Pakistan who waded out as far as he dared and felt the surf, but could not surrender to it.

For dinner we had some decent sea food and I had a first-rate freak out when one of the creepy things almost touched me arm with it's tendrils. I am pretty sure I screamed and nearly jumped onto Barb's back. I am such a wimp. But people who know me should actually be proud that I went into that fish market at all.

Yesterday I took the ferry to Lamma island and survived 2 hours in the extreme heat before going home, showering and going out to Soho for dinner. Lamma is about a half hour ferry ride from Central and there are no cars allowed anywhere on the island. There are several islands with no cars. There are however little diesel powered carts that transport goods around the village. There is a stunning beach and beautiful, family-friendly walking trails all over the island and linking the two major villages. I think it would be an easier place to visit in slightly more temperate weather when the 90 minute walk would be more comfortable.

After dinner I met up with Jerry and chatted a bit with him and the Nepalese owner of the little bar hiding in the north-east corner of the SOHO district. That area is a terrific place for people watching.

That's all for now. Perhaps if the typhoon continues to intensifies as it seems to be, I will have a chance to write more soon.

That's all for now.
Leslie