I will, in this span of this update, try to fast track all of you to somewhat recent events. And by recent events I mean make it past my first weekend in Japan, because that’s still where you’re all sitting right now. To make this possible I’ll inevitably have to skip some goings-on, but it had to happen sometime, and now this just gives you more incentive to talk to me after I get back to get the rest of the details, eh?

So, I will now commence with my first (and only so far, although that’s looking to change on Saturday) trip to Osaka.  At about 1:30 on Saturday afternoon it was decided that Osaka was the place to be, and as Gauthier was looking to purchase a new camera anyway, we had all the excuses we needed.  With Rina acting as our guide, the three of us set off. After a brief train ride (not quite as cushy as the trip to Kyoto, I quickly noted, but still comfortable) we arrived at Shinsaibashi.  I had thought Kyoto was crowded, but that was nothing compared to the throng I was faced with upon exiting the station.  Rina led on to a long street crammed with stores, and it was then that I was really astounded. I felt like I was both outside and in a mall at the same time.  There was some sort of canopy overhead obscuring the sky, lights of all colors and intensities decorated every square inch of… everything, and the place seemed warmer than outside.  This last point is probably just explained by the amount of warm bodies crammed into the smaller space, but I wasn’t thinking clearly enough to put things together at the time. As I gazed down the street/elongated plaza/strip thing, I felt like I was looking at one of those optical illusions. Squint as I might, I couldn’t make out any visible end, just vaulted arches parading endlessly down as far as I could see.  After walking for a few minutes, I had almost convinced myself I was in a mall… until I almost ran directly into a car that was passing in front of me perpendicular to the street that I was on. And by passing, I mean inching forward at speeds easily eclipsed by the rate of toenail growth as people slowly made way for it.  The rest of the afternoon blurred by; I don’t remember many specific activities besides window shopping at more stores than I could conceivably list, and eating a deliciously fluffy strawberry-y pastry of some kind that I have no memory of purchasing.  At some point in the early evening, the three of us met Brett and Marissa, who had come to Osaka separately.  They reminded me that I hadn’t actually eaten anything substantial all day, and that perhaps I should consider spending some money on sustaining my body’s life processes through the ingestion of nutrition.  I now yield my explanation to pictures.

Definitely the least crowded area we saw all day, evidenced by the fact that cars could actually, y’know, move.

This man is happy because he was able to squeeze into that leotard. 

This picture looked normal to me until my gaze became fixated on my fingers.  The longer you look at them, the bigger they seem.  See what I mean?

And this picture is apparently so important that Google refuses to allow me to include a single copy of it. If I try to delete one of them, it actually just erases every picture I've uploaded so far. So it looks like you get two.

After some brief picture taking on the Shinsaibashi bridge, we went in search of food.  We found a nice restaurant that offered okanomiyaki, which is best described as Japanese pancakes. So, y’know, full of fish. Being the cheapskate I am though (heaven forbid I spend more than $5 on a meal…) Rina and I split an order of takoyaki, shown below.

They’re like dumplings. But, because this is Japan, they’re stuffed with partially cooked octopus and some sort of gooey, mushy something. Tasted good though! Oh, and do you see that exotic, Japanese sauce on top? Just lathering everything in creamy goodness and probably tasting like nothing you’ve ever had before? YEAH, THAT’S MAYONNAISE. Japan bathes EVERYTHING in mayonnaise. I would not be surprised to go to a restaurant and see some fellow guzzling the stuff down by the glass. 

Now it’s time for the unflattering pictures of everyone eating! No one is spared! Except for me! (Y’know why? Cuz I had my tray table up, and my… nevermind.)

Marissa looking happy, Brett seemingly attempting to elongate his chin.

Gauthier eating and probably lamenting at the lack of French bread, as is his mealtime tradition.

After explaining to Rina that she didn’t need to smile and do “posu” for every picture, and that I was trying to get CANDID photos, she goes and falls asleep mid-meal. The nerve!

After dinner, we continued exploring Osaka, and I managed to find my first exotic brand of KitKat.  For those not in-the-know (which here means everyone but Ava, I’d guess) Japan has TONS of flavors of KitKats, ranging from normal things like fruit to some rather strange variations like mashed potato. In any case, I found Green Tea KitKats, which look delicious but rate fairly low on the weirdness scale in my estimation. I’ll redouble my efforts though!

Fairly typical Osaka street.

Well, I hate to say it, but I don’t think I have the gumption to get into daily life and transition you all into the present. I kind of like you guys in the past, right where I’ve got you.  So I guess that means I failed this update’s single objective.  I thought at first that that would sting, but oddly enough I feel no remorse whatsoever. Perhaps I’ve just grown accustomed to failure after a couple years of Physics beating Nick and Derek and I into the ground, huh? In any case, seriously, I think I can you guys caught up next time.  Either that or I’ll just keep stringing you along, depending on how I feel.  You guys are a fickle audience, y’know that? Either I delay this post even longer in order to add more, or I leave you with the hollow feeling of dissatisfaction eating away inside you because of my unfulfilled promise.  And after going on for over 150 words now on why, precisely, I’m NOT going to keep writing, I think that’s my queue that it’s actually just time for bed. Later, folks!

In the meantime...

I hope you guys are all enjoying car life!

Because it seems that everyone is just CLAMORING for another update, I suppose I can oblige.  When I’m home I usually get the impression that everyone just wants me to stop talking, but as soon as I leave, it seems you all just can’t get enough of ol’ Andrew.

As I recall, I left off you all hanging with the promise that I would soon discuss my first trips to Kyoto and Osaka. I’m actually really tempted to blow you all off and discuss the current market share of the 3DS and software sales trends, as well as the results of the latest Magic Pro Tour, but as I always say, my word is my bond.

On Friday morning of my first week in Japan, the university scheduled a Kyoto tour in which a group of us foreigners would be matched with an equal sized group of Japanese students. We were all told to wait patiently while this process was being organized.  However, being the ambitious and overzealous youngsters that we are, my friends and I set about finding our own group of Japanese students, with precedence given, of course, to the ones that looked the coolest. Surely the best paradigm on which to base the decision of a tour guide, right? In any case, our search ended quickly when our eyes alighted on a Japanese fellow sporting an orange Mohawk, hereafter known as Mohawk-san.  (I feel that Ava, at least, should support our choice based on this fact alone.) Mohawk-san and his posse agreed to go with us, and so our merry crew of 3 Americans, 3 French, and 6 Japanese set out for the train station.  This group was perfect, as we all fell in line and started up conversations with our new friends.  It took all of 5 minutes to realize that they were incredibly helpful, earnest in helping us learn about Japanese language and culture, and eager to hear about our lives and countries as well. 

My first use of the Japanese train system could not have gone more smoothly. From arrival at the station to stepping onto the train took roughly 5 minutes, and the ticket from Hirakata-shi to Kyoto was roughly $3 USD.  The train itself was incredibly comfortable, with large windows providing a view of the country as we sped by and surprisingly plush seats to support my heiny.  Given that the trip only took about 30 minutes total, this wasn’t even that necessary, but I imagine for long trips these seats are soft enough to sooth even the tenderest rump.

I was also surprised at how clean everything was. One would be hard pressed to find a single empty water bottle, candy package or gum wrapper carelessly tossed aside.  The cleanliness of the station made me realize how spotless Japan is in general.  I honestly don’t think I’ve seen a piece of litter yet. (I actually asked Rina about this, and why exactly Japan was so clean. Did Japan have lots of full time trash picker uppers? High-tech robot slaves? A squadron of trash-eating goats released every night? She seemed bewildered at the question though, and after thinking for a while, slowly said… “Well… sometimes people drop things, I guess.  But then they pick them up.” Even the concept of purposefully littering because of laziness seemed foreign to her.)

After arriving in Kyoto, we made our way through the throng of people to Kiyomizu-dera, which is an enormous temple seemingly located in the heart of Kyoto. It only took me about an hour to fall in love with this city, which surprised me given my usual dislike of hordes of people stampeding about.  Kyoto was so unique though; it managed to somehow seamlessly blend the traditional with the contemporary.  One minute I was surrounded by people, cars, and noise, and the next I was in what seemed to be an isolated area with steps leading up to a compound of ancient-looking wooden buildings.  As it turns out, this temple is actually still in use by monks, but open to tourists and visitors as well.  I’ll shut up now and let some pictures do the talking.

Aforementioned stairs complete with aforementioned French girls.

The whole gang, minus Charline, who was relegated to camera duty.

From left to right

Back Row: Brett, Mohawk-San, Andrew “Ace of Spades” Broscoff, guy who’s name I can’t remember but reminded me of someone from Death Note, Kei.

Front Row: Yuuya, Mai, Daisuke (kneeling) Marissa, Alix, Gauthier

An absolutely ENORMOUS graveyard. When I inquired about how bodies were laid to rest, I was told (if I understood correctly) that the bodies are cremated but the remaining bones are placed inside these stone doodads.

Lotsa stone doodads. Enough stone doodads to choke a camel, I reckon.

More Pictures of us, because that's what you're really here to see anyway.

Behold, the big orange thing.

You know you're in Japan when an enormous Totoro greets you at the entrance to a store.

Oh yeah, and when you can buy a Totoro outfit for your child.  Unfortunately they don't come any bigger.

Someday I'll come back for you, Catbus Hat.

While at the temple, we took part in several activities.  The first involved descending into some pitch black location and gripping onto a rope as your only guide to make it through. I think it actually may have been the darkest place I’ve ever been. I was terrified that I would drop something and never see it again. In any case, I believe the whole trip was supposed to symbolize a journey into the womb of Buddha’s mother or something, with the aforementioned rope representing Buddha’s umbilical cord.  When you reached deep inside there was a large, dimly illuminated rock that one was supposed to place their hand on and make a wish.  If this was representing Fetus Buddha, I hope I didn’t offend anyone by sneezing on it. Maybe I’m allergic to uteruses (uteri?). Meh, it was so dark in there no one could tell it was me anyway. (And based on the dampness of the rock, I’m forced to conclude that lots of previous visitors sneezed on Fetus Buddha as well.)

Following our journey to the center of the womb, we emerged in an area where three small streams of water cascade down from above, and each one symbolizes… something that I can’t remember.  Love, wisdom, and luck or something like that. Anyway, using a cup attached to a long pole, you’re supposed to collect water from each stream and then drink from it.  The thing is, there’s only like 10 cup/pole combinations, and everyone takes turns using them.  I was astonished at first. “This is so unlike Japan!” I thought in that adorably naïve way that I often do. The Japanese think shoes in any location other than the entryway is disgusting, and heaven forbid you ever walk into the bathroom with your normal slippers on; there’s special bathroom slippers for that! Upon further inspection, however, I saw that there was some sort of Ultra-Violet Sterilization Machine from the future that everyone set their cups in after they’d used them.  Once again, a small, anecdotal example of how Kyoto combines the archaic with the modern.

After quenching our thirst with the Super Water, it was time to try a series of green-tea based candies. Unfortunately I didn’t think to take any pictures of these, but that’s probably for the best. They don’t look like anything special, and I doubt most people could imagine a green-tea based candy being anything but gut-wrenchingly awful, but they were AMAZING.  If I go back again I’ll definitely buy some to bring back home.

The only downside to these candies was that they served as a reminder of how hungry we were.  After taking a leisurely walk down the hill that the temple was located on and browsing the countless stores that lined the steps, it was time to make our way to the restaurant.  Our Japanese guides highly recommended it, and for good reason, as the food was marvelous.  Typically, from what I’ve experienced, the way Japanese restaurants work is very different from American restaurants.  You don’t just order what you want to eat, but instead your entire table orders a wide variety of appetizer-sized mini-meals that everyone shares.  I love this idea, as it’s a great way to try new things, but the only downside is that when it comes time to pay, everyone just splits it.  So regardless of how much you ate, personally, you’re still going to be responsible for a significant fraction of the bill.  Lesson learned. 

I sat at a table with three of our Japanese guides, and at first I was intimidated, because I was the only one from our group without a fellow English speaker at the table.  By the end of the meal, however, I was very grateful; we had a series of very interesting conversations, and the situation pushed me to use more Japanese than I would have otherwise.

Following dinner, it was time for the quintessential Japanese activity of purikura.  You may not know it by name, but you’ve no doubt seen it.  Purikura are those photobooths where everyone piles in and has tons of pictures taken, after which the girls all crowd around the screen and edit the pictures however they wish.  This results in the following inevitable transformations.

Guys----à Girls

Girls---àSuper models

I also greatly enjoyed the sign plastered on the side of the machine:

This was fun, but the real highlight came when I spotted the Pikachu costumes.

You REALLY know you’re in Japan when you can do this without getting so much as a second glance from anyone.

Oh, so about that pose. Japanese people don’t even know why they do it. I’ve asked probably going on 10 of em now, and they can’t give me a real answer.  They just smile and say “posu” as if that explains everything. Well, it doesn’t Japan, it really doesn’t.  But that doesn’t mean I won’t play along.

I was going to try to cover the following day’s trip to Osaka as well, but seeing as this post has already eclipsed 1700 words and it’s getting close to 2AM as I type this, I think it’s time I think about heading to bed. Hopefully this will give you all enough to chew on till I can continue!

It’s amazing to think back and realize just how much has changed and how much I’ve experienced in the span of a week. Even more surprising is how difficult I’m finding it to put together coherent English thoughts!  I think I’ll start by pulling a Christopher Nolan and explaining where I currently find myself, and then flashing back to what I’ve experienced since reaching Japan. At the moment, I’m sitting in my snug room in the Sasakawa household. It’s actually probably one of the biggest rooms in the house now that I think about it, rivaled only by the kitchen/living room/dining room upstairs. I met my homestay mother this afternoon at 2, and together with a CIE mediator talked about the various expectations of living in the house. Nothing is too concerning, except for the grievous lack of internet.  I was really hoping this worry wouldn’t come to fruition, but it has. I have yet to figure out where and how I’m going to wrangle me some o’ that precious Webternetz, but the good news is that I’m super smart (and humble!), so I expect to figure out a workable solution any time now.

My homestay mother, Tomie, is, as far as I can tell, really just looking for someone to dote on, and I happened to be lucky enough to become her dotee (add that to the list of not-words that should be words.) She’s almost always talking, except when she’s cooking, which is comforting; I was afraid I was going to get a super reserved, quiet family and end up starved for attention (like at home :P).  She complains that her husband is always off with friends and when he’s home, he doesn’t say much.  We actually had an incredibly in-depth conversation today about how men in Japan still adhere to samurai stoicism, and how women are still primarily relegated to be housewives.  Not too bad for my first week with the family!

My homestay father is a grandfatherly, jovial fellow with a perpetual twinkle in his eye.  He seems really laid back, and is pretty quiet until a topic comes up that he cares about.  Then he has tons of questions, usually about how we do things in America.  He actually reminds me a lot of a Japanese Grandpa John, now that I think about it.  He speaks really quickly and kind of slurs things together, so my okasan will occasionally slap him upside the head and tell him to speak slowly for me, to which he merely responds with a chuckle and continues talking at the same pace.  I’m having an easier time understanding him now that I realized that, like most old people in America, he has a set phrase that he begins and ends every single sentence with, and it’s sprinkled in the middle occasionally as well.   Y’know how, for instance, older folks in Minnesota will, y’know, do that from time to time in place of something else to say, y’know? Yep, same thing.

I gave them my gift yesterday; the picture book on Minnesota that took me eons to pick out.  They absolutely ADORED it, and had questions on every picture.  In particular, it took great effort on my part to convince them that, no, Lake Superior is not an ocean.  When I thought the matter had been settled, they rebuttled (once again, should be a word) by showing me a map of Japan and illustrating to me that the Great Lakes are larger in area that what they typically call a sea.  I eventually gave up and let them have it.  Gotta know when to quit.  They also greatly enjoyed the pictures that I showed them of my family and friends in America (a.k.a. youse guys.)  They thought that both Mom and Grandpa Walt were adorable, Dad looked like a “big man” and they had no idea what the crap Ava was.  I had to introduce her as my younger sister in every single picture, because she constantly had different hair colors and lengths in each picture.  They occasionally mixed me up with Ava too.  Oh, and they also thought that I had the word for younger sister and older sister mixed up, so I received multiple demonstrations regarding that.  They still don’t believe that Ava is 1) younger than me and 2) not a dude. 

*Flashback*

After arriving in Japan and making a brief meal of ramen at one of the airport restaurants, we were ferried from the Kansai airport to the university in Hirakata-shi. Strangely, we received very little welcome upon arriving; we were merely handed a thick packet of important paperwork and tasks to complete, and then expected to scamper off to bed.  I met one of my roommates that night; an Australian guy who had been to Japan three times before and was very proficient in Japanese.  Even after being unable to sleep at all on the plane, I decided that sleep was for the weak and instead chose to explore the nearby Hirakata neighborhood.  One of the first things I noticed was that Japanese sidewalks do not seem to be intended for more than one person to walk abreast. They’re incredibly narrow, and intermittently there are large metal cylinders that are roughly groin-height and maliciously painted the color of darkness.  I have no idea what purpose they serve, but it’s either to discourage distracted bicycle riding or to castrate foreigners. Either way, they do their job well.  Furthermore, I noticed that Japanese roadways are one of the most dangerous things I’ve ever witnessed. Speed limits seem to be almost completely disregarded, intersections don’t always have stop signs, and yielding to innocent pedestrians in crosswalks seems to be completely optional. The Japanese have no troubles with the system whatsoever, of course. It’s not uncommon to see two little girls riding tandem on a bike on the miniscule shoulder of the road, swerving to within inches of a splattery death, and yet texting while they natter on to each other.  While on a bike, it’s actually against the law to ride on the sidewalk, ride tandem with someone, text, talk on the phone, listen to music, hold an umbrella, or any other task that could impair your driving ability.  However, I kid you not, after learning this, within the hour I saw someone doing almost all of the above AT ONCE.  Don’t let the statistics fool you; people may say that Japan has no crime, but that’s just because they have no REAL crime. If one were to count all of the laws blatantly disregarded by cyclists, then Japan would no doubt rival Detroit in terms of total infractions.

The Number 1 Threat

The following morning and early afternoon primarily consisted of orientation meetings, paperwork, and class registration, so there’s nothing terribly interesting to report. After that was all taken care of, however, I met my speaking partner, Rina, for the first time.  Together, she and I went to meet her speaking partners from last semester, who are once again studying at Kansai. After chatting for a little bit and getting a lot of good advice from them, Rina and I got food and went to hang out at her apartment. It was a grand old time, as we watched anime, ate chocolate, discussed the myriad differences between Japan and America, and also shared our native language’s tongue twisters with one another.  I don’t claim to be any better myself, but if you get the chance, ask a Japanese person to say “She sells sea shells down by the sea shore.” You won’t regret it.

*End Flashback*

That’s all I have time for right now folks, but next time I intend to continue the previously started flashback with details of my first trips to Kyoto and Osaka.  I’m sure it will be packed with exciting content, but even if it’s not, I bet a good chunk of y’all will read it anyway! :P Oh, but I will actually have pictures next time too, so I spose that's at least one real reason to come back.

Note: I wrote this a few days ago, but haven't had time to write a follow-up now that I'm in Japan. So, you're going to have to content yourself with this for the time being until I have time to crank out another one. Deal.

So, here I find myself cruising along at steady 822 km/hr at 36,000 feet (first sentence of my blog and I’ve already managed to mix the American and metric systems. Talk about living on the edge!) above the Pacific, pondering how exactly I wanted to start the pilot (*Swish!) installment of this blog regaling you all with my adventures in the Land of the Rising Sun. Over the past four hours I’ve had time to give it a good mulling over, and so far I have yet to reach any satisfying conclusion, although I have come up with the following list of ways I DON’T intend to start this blog.

1)      A generic introduction about my life.  The way I figure it, if you’re reading this blog, you already know me well enough to insure that any wordage I expend In an effort to further familiarize you with me would be a colossal waste of your time. Not mine, you understand; I don’t land for another 6 hours and 41 minutes, and there are few topics I find so fascinating as myself, so I’m really only thinking of you, dearest readers.

2)      A boring quote about travel or life by some famous dead person you don’t actually care about.

3)      A song and dance number performed by the crew of the plane. I thought about it, but given the nonplussed expressions I received from the flight attendants when I made a Grease reference (one was telling another that some unspecified objects were supposed to “go together,” which prompted a reflexive response of “like ramma lamma lamma, da dinga da dinga dong” from me) I can reliably conclude that they are lacking in musical experience, sense of humor, or both.

And there you have it.  I have now accomplished my aim of beginning my blog with none of the preceding uninspired crutches (or impractical fantasy scenarios, as the case may be.) I do, however, wish to make it clear that by reading this blog, you are entering into an unwritten contract with me to observe the following list (I’m a great one for lists.  If the prospect of more scares you, I advise that you bail now) of precepts.

1)      At no point in this blog do I claim to make any amount of coherent sense, or provide down-to-earth, reasonable representations of real events. My thought patterns make about as much sense as a platoon of giraffes with snorkels wearing bell-bottom Zubas. Nor do I promise to do more than ramble on with endless inane sentences that may or may not have anything to do with my time in Japan.

2)      That first point was really the only one I wanted to make, now that I think about it. But it looked lonely so I added this one too.

In any case, my journey has begun. My flight from Minneapolis to Seattle was occupied by what I consider to be the maximum safe intake of Scooby Doo cartoons, two episodes of “I Faked My Own Death,” listening to Bear Grylls tell me how to eat a scorpion safely, and a burning desire to know how any human being could consume as many salted peanuts as the fellow a few rows ahead of me. Oh, and several trips to the bathroom, but anyone who knows me is well aware that that is to be expected from ol’ Baby Bladder Broscoff. I briefly attempted to get some sleep, but the only part of me that succeeded in this endeavor was my right buttock, which, as a matter of fact, still slumbers peacefully now, 7 hours later.

We landed in Seattle ahead of schedule, which afforded me enough time to grab an affordably priced $8 turkey sandwich. Hah! That’s sarcasm, folks! Good luck identifying it in the future exclusively through text! For someone like me who abhors spending money on anything as inconsequential and transitory as food, this was the equivalent of a dull screwdriver being stabbed into my spleen. But I spose I better get used to it, huh? The only unfortunate aspect of the first flight was that the plane was so crammed with people I was told that the small carry-on suitcase I had intended to place in the overhead compartment was going to have to be checked with the rest of the luggage.  So long contact solution, and with it my only chance of sleeping on the trip to Osaka. Ah well. Nothing like the scratchy joy of eyes that feel like they’ve been rubbed with kitty litter!

I then boarded the plane to Osaka and was pleased to see that, as an international flight, it did appear much more comfortable and spacious than the matchbox-sized enclosure they had crammed us all on to Seattle.  I had been spoiled by the free wifi and satellite TV on the previous flight though, so the lack of it on this flight was a strong blow that I’m still recovering from. How am I supposed to make it to Japan without watching 30Rock, checking out video game reviews, and reading about Magic cards? Life can be cruel, but I put on my samurai face and bore it all with as much silence and stoicism as possible in such cataclysmic circumstances.  I know, I know, I’m a trooper.

After an hour or two of flight, we were offered the choice of two meal choices. I partook of the beefy, shrimpy, noodly, saucy concoction dutifully, and found that it really wasn’t too bad. At first I was absorbed in trying to identify the lumpy elongated gray bits, but I eventually concluded they were likely some form of caterpillar, and they didn’t trouble me after that. Knowing is half the battle, right?

Without the pleasures of technology to keep me occupied, I had to turn my attention elsewhere.  With the multitude of diverse and interesting people aboard the plane, all with myriad fascinating details ripe for observation, it is not difficult for a student of the science of deduction to quickly immerse himself in a study of those around him. Unfortunately, I’m no such student. Instead, I engaged in a rousing game of peek-a-boo with the little Japanese boy sitting in front of me.  He continued to pop his head up from behind the seat to stare at me in true meerkat fashion for quite some time until he fell asleep an hour or so ago. We even conversed briefly in basic Japanese, so we’re pretty much bestie flight-friends now.  It is only his absence, friends, which gave me the spare time to compose this brief exposition on my travel experiences up until this point. With him sleeping, I found myself lost in thought for the better part of an hour thinking about how weird belly buttons are. Maybe I’m just tired, but seriously, they’re… swirgly.

 Hark! I now hear him stirring, and want to be present when he awakes. As exciting as 15 hours of sitting on my rump is, I’m anticipating that the next installment will be even more thrilling! Until then!