October 19, 2009

Another solid weekend. Friday I took it easy, went over with Jacob to Kyle’s place and played old school video games on his Wii. Punch Out, Sonic 2, Mega Man 3, Street Fighter 2. Kyle kicked our asses, natch. But it was fun.

Saturday all us American teachers, one of the Japanese teachers, Izumi, and Joanna’s sister and her husband went out to Nagoya. Actually, Jacob and I went with Dak to Nagoya first, where I ate some pepper steak on a stick (delicious) and we walked blocks and blocks inside a giant-ass mall; I mean, I literally forgot I was indoors by the end of it. Bunch of restaurants and shops and even a Buddhist temple inside. They just built the damn mall around the temple! Needless to say, not my favorite place in Japan.

After that, Jacob and I went over to Sakae, the main entertainment district in Nagoya. We grabbed a drink at an English pub (fish and chips style, big gaijin hangout) but it was so crowded, we didn’t stay very long. Just long enough to cram ourselves between a guy sitting at a table doodling circles up and down in his journal while bobbing his head to some soundless mental rhythm, and a sketchy white dude with dreadlocks crammed up inside his baseball cap, shifty-eyed and all dressed in black talking to some Japanese guys in suits—probably their dealer or something. Oh, and we watched the Dragons take on some other team in Japanese baseball, where the infield and the outfield are completely undifferentiated—just neon green Astroturf checkered with white bases. Then we left.

We moseyed our way over to a beautiful fountain, water running over three big ovular discs and shooting up in the center in spouts surrounding some pseudo-Greek statue. I tried to catch eyes with a girl posing on the ledge for a bunch of photographers, but to no avail. From there we headed to the Nagoya Needle in Central Park, this big Eiffel-looking radio tower in the middle of a beautiful, very European-looking park with trees and a stream and what not. But perhaps I only say it’s European looking because apparently the Champs Elysees Association (or whatever their official name is) worked with Nagoya to create it back in 1990. Weird.

After, Jacob and I headed to a coffee shop to further discuss whether or not free will/choice exists or not, much to the chagrin of any English speakers around us—thankfully, hardly anyone. We also talked loudly about a woman smoking a cigarette at the table next to us (you can smoke indoors in Japan), because Jacob hates smoking and you start to think nobody can understand what you’re saying and it doesn’t matter (whether or not that’s true is anybody’s guess—the Japanese would never say anything to you regardless). Joanna and her posse rolled up shortly thereafter, and we hauled our asses out of that joint before offending too many people (I hope).

Next stop: Yakiniku. For those who don’t know, it’s apparently a Korean-originated meal where you get a bunch of plates of raw meat and cook them yourself. So we all got some beers and plates of chicken and beef, in body parts ranging from tongue to intestine, and a bowl of rice and some seaweed soup, all of which was delicious, except the intestine which was really chewy and kind of disgusting. But I sucked it up (aha, get it!)

…

After that we went back to the English pub that Jacob and I had hit up earlier and we all had a drink before Michael, Matt and Izumi bounced to catch the last train back to Ogaki (or in Izumi’s case, Gifu). Jacob had left yakiniku early to head back to Gifu, so soon it was just me, Joanna and her crew—they said I could crash on their floor after her sister left for the airport around 4am, which sounded solid to me. So around 11:30 we hit up a cheap karaoke bar, the four of us, and spend an hour doing that. Then Gabe and Dave head back to their hotel to catch some Zs. Me and Joanna hung around for another hour though, singing some ‘70s greats and the one and only Garth Brooks.

It was around 2 or so when we headed out of there, a bit liquored up thanks to the unlimited chu-hi we’d been provided. But hey, we had until 4 (Joanna was a real sweetheart for staying out with me), so we checked out the pub once again, which was still rockin’, though slightly less so, so we were able to get a table up in front. I had a couple Guinness and she kicked back a Guinness and a house original cocktail (some fruity blue drink with lots of ice and an orange), and we discussed life in Japan and life post-Japan and work life and school life and life in general. Then it was 4am and we decided to get some food and then head back to the hotel.

The Subway and Denny’s were closed, so we had to settle for Japanese food, big bowls of ramen at a nearby ramen shop (apparently Japanese restaurants stay open real late, even around here in Ogaki—sometimes they don’t even open until midnight or so). We devoured that, and with stomachs full after our early bird breakfast, made our way to the hotel. We knocked on the door. No response. We knocked again. No response.

Had her sister already left for the airport? She had to get up at 4, and had planned to leave around 5—it was around 5 now. But Dave would still be in there. So we kept knocking, and eventually Gabe came to the door and let us in. Gabe, who was supposed to be catching her plane in an hour. She had set her alarm to wake her up at 4am—American time. Oops! She darted into the bathroom and fixed herself up real quick, was out in the door in 15. Then I curled my coat around me and passed out on the floor.

Morning was uneventful, save for the “No Smoking in Bed” sign posted on the wall of the tiny hotel room. I’d have a picture to show, except my phone was too low on battery to take pictures. Wa waaaa.

We checked out at 10 and said goodbye to Dave, put him on a subway and decided to stroll for a bit on this beautiful sunny day. We observed some public sculpture, the fountain and the park. Meanwhile, big black trucks with Japanese flags on them rolled around us blaring nationalist music. Joanna tried to snap a picture while I contemplated whether we had magically transported back to 1945, but her camera died, so we said to hell with photos and continued our journey.

It ended up at Central Park (Nagoya, not NY) where some Special Olympics-type event was taking place. Many vendors were set up around the park hawking goods for charity, and at the insistence of older Japanese women I sipped green tea and sampled a piece of carrot covered in spices. Then we got some coffee and just sat down and took in the sights for awhile. A man handed us a flyer which we think may have indicated some benefit walk to take place in an hour or so, and while it would have been neat to see the city and show our support, we ultimately decided to head home instead.

I took a 90 minute nap later that day—purely accidentally timed, but further proof that sleep occurs in 90 minute cycles and should be kept to such intervals—followed by band practice with Jacob and our friend Jen. My $40 ‘80s Casio combined forces with their two violins for a few hours of surprisingly melodic music making, complete with tape recording. A quality finish to a quality weekend.