December 31, 2007

Everglades (USA)

A Day in the Florida Everglades

Traveling in America is every bit as tough as traveling in a third world country. While it is true everyone speaks the same language (other than certain parts of the South), and although the overall level of development is extremely high, the country is just so damn big. A few days ago I drove 900km down the coast from Savannah to Palm Beach, and yesterday I drove 250km across the state of Florida to reach Naples. This morning all that driving paid off as I was up with the sun to fit in a full day of touring the Everglades in South Florida.

My grandmother acted as our guide for the first half of the morning, and I followed her silver Volkswagen Beetle to the entrance of the Fakahatchee State Park. She led Jo and I on a boardwalk through the wild, and en route pointed out more wildlife than I would have seen in a week of searching. Most captivating was the bald eagle perched atop a tree only 50 meters away - a rare sight, and as both the state (and national) bird, one with an impressive reputation.

At the end of the boardwalk was a viewing area overlooking a pond that could stand as a mini-ecosystem all on its. The immediate sights to attract my attention were the family of alligators spread out in the water - mama and papa at the far end and several young'uns swimming just below our feet. There was also an anhinga ("snake bird") perched on a branch over the pond, an egret stalking the reeds within feet of the fully grown alligators, and numerous fish plopping around in the middle of it all. As Gram explained, the egrets start hunting for alligator eggs (or baby gators themselves) as soon as the nest is left unguarded. Obviously, whichever ones she misses will some day come back to take their revenge.

As we backtracked along on the boardwalk we heard a sudden crash as a fully grown hawk dove down from directly above us and went after something in the nearby mud. We had been watching it for ten seconds or so when it took off, so we saw the whole ordeal - all of it except for what it was after (we assume it must have been a frog). Anyway, the hawk got what he was after, and took it up to a nearby branch while it ate away. It was a proper wildlife experience!

Gram decided not to continue onward to Everglades City with Jo and I, so we bade her farewell and continued deeper into the Everglades. We picked up a handful of information packets at the turn-off for the town, and decided to head straight for a boat-tour of the Everglades that was led by a park ranger and recommended to us by Gram. It was a perfect day to be out on the water, and sitting at the front of the boat as it worked its way out of the shallows was exactly the kind of thing I needed after enduring the cold of Tokyo for the past month.

The park ranger doing all the talking was a pure-Southerner from the backwaters of the Everglades, and I bet he knew every last nook and cranny of the mangroves and swamp lands. But more importantly, he knew everything there was to know about the wildlife and habitation of the area, and he pointed things out left and right. Most captivating were the families of dolphins that we spotted (and followed) on several occasions - they really are some of the most gracious creatures on earth.

We rode south for about an hour until we reached the final island at the edge of the Everglades. Had we kept going, the next place we would have hit would have been Cuba, and there would have been a lot of explaining to do if that had happened.

One memorable moment while we were looking around an island was when we saw an albatross perched in a tree, and after the ranger pointed out out a raggedy heap of sticks that served as the albatross' nest, the ranger commented, "We have been trying for years to get one of those engineers from Georgia Tech to come down here and build it a real home, but so far no luck." I whipped my head around, smile spread from ear to ear, and said they finally found what they were looking for. The ranger laughed, but inside I suspect he was thinking: "Surely they must have someone better than this!" Truthfully, it is doubtful I actually could build something better than that "raggedy nest" considering it survives hurricanes year in and year out, and this far south there is no protection from the winds that sweep through.

When we reached dry land we headed off for lunch at the Seafood Depot, which looked to offer the most standard food - a highly valued trait in a place like Everglades City (population 217.) Nevertheless, I decided to "go hick" and ordered fried frog legs, fried alligator tail, and fried clam cakes. I regretted my decision as soon as the food was served - they really were frog legs, and there was more fried junk on everything than there was actual meat. But I got what I was looking for: I can say I have tried alligator tail, which really does taste like chicken, and frog legs, which are slightly softer than a standard chicken wing.

Afterward, we headed off in search of an airboat ride, and since just about everyone in Everglades City owns an airboat it wasn't hard to find. The rides were pricier than I was expecting (something like $20USD), but as a tourist in the heart of the Everglades there was nothing I could do about it. What was worse was the 30 minutes spent waiting for an airboat to return and take us out. While sitting around, we entertained ourselves by watching the six foot alligators next to the dock, and Jo would kick pebbles at them every time they popped up near our feet.

Eventually, our number was called and we sat on the top row of the bleacher-like seating. I strapped my wallet and shirt inside my cargo shorts as everything I owned was liable to blow away, and if that would have happened there was no way any of us were going in after it. Below is video of what the airboat ride was like, and as should be obvious it was one hell of a ride!

We wrapped up our trip to the Everglades by driving out to see the smallest Post Office in the United States (captivating stuff, let me tell you), and then pulling off on a 5km dirt track with alligators all along the canal to our right. While I kept my eyes on the road - going into that canal would not have been good - Jo counted all the gators she could find. Right around the time she reached 40 we decided to give the game up out of boredom, and we turned back before finishing the lonely stretch of road. Quite simply, there is a limit to the number of alligators one wants to see after a full day in the Everglades, and we were well beyond that limit. So, at 4pm we started back across Alligator Alley on the three hour drive to Palm Beach Gardens.

Fortunately, I had help on the drive back.

December 23, 2007

Atlanta (USA)

You Built a What?

This morning my father decided it was about time he re-established just how much I have a lot to live up to in life. How would he accomplish this, you might wonder? Well, the obvious way I suppose: spend his free time over the past three months building a damn boat, and then taking me out for a ride.

In fairness, the boat-ride was a good deal of fun, but it would have been a lot better if it wasn't during the dead of winter with the wind out on the water turning my lips blue.

As a closing note, any pride my father may have gotten out of his creation were easily dispelled with a single remark...

Cool dinghy, but where is the actual boat?

December 19, 2007

Atlanta (USA)

Traveling Home For Christmas

I over-slept the Arsenal-Blackburn Carling Cup game this morning, but I still managed to wake up at 6am so I could begin (and finish) packing for my vacation to the United States. By 9am I was walking out the front door with Kumagai-san so I could bum a ride in the taxi to Shinagawa Station. Rather than riding the express train for Narita Airport, I used my PASMO card to take a one and a half hour local train with all the other cheapskates. I figure if I have a 15 hour plane ride to the other side of the planet, what sense is there paying extra money just to save 45 minutes on the ride to the airport?

I flew Northwest Airlines from Tokyo to Minneapolis, where I had to deal with an overzealous customs official who took it upon himself to protect the American public from returning American citizens. The international arrivals hall in the Twin Cities doesn't see a whole lot of traffic, so when our flight deplaned there wasn't enough room for the long queue, and we were stretched back through the connecting tunnel. The overall blood pressure of the lobby was rising as the official at the head of our line seemed to be grilling every person he came across. By the time I finally got to the front of the line he began flipping through my passport while eying me skeptically when he struggled to find an empty page. Naturally, he asked me about the different countries I visited, whether I handled chickens, but then he started testing me on more trivial questions that made me want to reach over and whack him.

The point of all this is that foreigners are not the only ones who are targeted by American immigration officials: even US citizens are unnecessarily hassled.

When I finally cleared immigrations, I grabbed my bags, walked through customs control (nothing to declare), and re-checked my bags for the connecting flight to Atlanta. Unfortunately, I ran into more difficulties when I went through the security check for my carry on bags. The bottle of sake I purchased at a duty-free shop at Narita airport couldn't be carried onto the plane for my connecting flight (even though I carried it on the Tokyo/Minneapolis flight), so I was forced to either check the bottle or lose it. When I walked back to the checked baggage desk with the bottle of sake, the attendants said I couldn't check the bottle because my bags were already being sent to the plane, and so I ended up having to leave the terminal, re-check in at the Delta desk, and go through the whole security-check process all over again. The only fortunate part of this entire ordeal is that the airport was practically dead - especially considering I am used to Atlanta which is the busiest airport in the world - and the lines were short. In the end, I wrapped the bottle in several old sheets an attendant gave me and checked my backpack as a third piece of luggage.

The bottle of sake survived the three hour flight from the Twin Cities to Atlanta, but I had bigger things to worry about: whether or not Jo made it on her flight from London. I was stuck at the terminal waiting around for hours, but thankfully she arrived without too much hassle. We gathered our bags and caught a ride on a hired bus to the Atlanta Hilton, located downtown. Understandably, both of us were exhausted after such extensive travel and our busy lives leading up to this vacation, and it felt good to finally drop our bags and relax for once.

December 16, 2007

Tokyo (JAPAN)

Sony's Big (!!!) Screen Club World Cup Viewing at Odaiba

Hosted annually in Tokyo, the FIFA Club World Cup was created to be the world's elitist club football tournament, and over the years it has come to command strong attention for its ability to draw on the world's best teams. The way it works is simple: the best club football team from each of the (inhabited) continents competes for the honor of being crowned the world's best. These teams compete in a mini tournament, and with such teams as AC Milan and Boca Juniors in this year's tournament there was every incentive for me to go after tickets. Unfortunately, Japan is a big country and I wasn't the only one hoping to cash in on my geographic location. In other words, I wasn't willing to fork over $130USD and I was consequently left out in the cold without tickets.

Fortunately, Kumagai-san learned of my predicament and, already being hopelessly out of place as an American crazy about football, she took pity on me. She succeeded in applying for four tickets to a closed-door Sony viewing of the final game between AC Milan and Boca Juniors, and the icing on the cake was yet to come: the screen on which I would watch the game was to be something special. While I didn't know what this meant in advance, the full reality would later knock me off my feet.

Along with Kumagai-san, I invited two friends for the viewing: Julien (France) and Ryonjin (South Korea). We met at our house in Shinagawa and rode a local train to the island of Odaiba, where the viewing was being held. It was desperately cold outside tonight (below zero), and with only jeans, sandals and a thin Arsenal jersey on, I was miserable outdoors - such is the price paid when I exercise my high sense of fashion.

We arrived an hour and a half early to make sure we had great seats, and during the wait we made use of the complimentary food and drinks. There were two dishes on offer for each of the continents represented in the tournament (I love Sony), but I rather unadventurously opted for an Italian panini and New Zealand lamb chops. There was a ceremony going on while we ate, but everything was obviously spoken in Japanese and I was too busy debating with Julien over the form of various European teams this season.

The match tonight was between European champions AC Milan and South/Central American champions Boca Juniors. I don't care much for either team - my hope was to see a good game and to experience Sony's high definition big screen display. Before I go into more detail regarding the display, I should probably give a quick plug for Sony. Besides, with my thousands of paying subscribers (this webpage operates on the honor system for all of you behind on payments), I am sure this will do Sony a world of good.

Sony is sponsoring the 2010 FIFA World Cup in South Africa (along with all other FIFA activities), and this viewing was designed to test the feasibility of a big screen display for live matches. As for the new technology, the picture to the right shows the teams walking out at the beginning of the match, and although the picture is crisp and the screen is massive (6 meters across), Sony was saving the real shocker for a few minutes more...

Just before kick-off the remaining two projectors flicked on and the massive 18 meter display (50 feet) caused everyone not in on the surprise to jump with amazement. The picture to the left doesn't do adequate justice to the experience because not only was the screen 18 meters across, but the action was being projected on a high-definition display that made it feel (quite literally) like I was at the game. Even better, there was no need to pan with the cameras because the entire pitch was viewable at once. The unused portion of the pitch (roughly 1/3 the screen) was used to focus on the play at hand - similar to what one would see on a television screen - giving the best of both worlds. Plus, the cameras could focus in on various people in the stands, display numerous replays, and provide other information without viewers ever losing sight of what they most want to see: the game itself.

The footage was being provided directly from Nissan Stadium in Yokohama (just south of Tokyo), and there were also special microphones to fully capture the sounds of the stadium. By far the most amazing part was the picture, which as the picture to the right shows, was unbelievably crisp. While this isn't the kind of system one could install in their home, I would certainly pay to attend another viewing like this rather than watching in from across the room at an over-priced bar.

Overall, well done Sony!!

December 15, 2007

Tokyo (JAPAN)

Visiting the Tsukiji Fish Market and Making Sushi Atop Ginza (Literally)

With the help of two friends from her university days, Mesuda-san and Wada-san, Kumagai-san arranged for a visit to Tokyo's famous fish market, the Tsukiji Fish Market. The goal was to purchase the freshest fish on the planet, and then spend the afternoon preparing sashimi and sushi dishes at a penthouse apartment near Ginza. Both Eric, a friend from Hong Kong who helped me become familiar with Play Station 3 at his Shinagawa apartment, and Takumi came along for the day, making us a group of six. Interestingly, Mesuda-san's husband comes from a family with a very large distribution business that includes a branch at Tsukiji market. Their company sells a variety of foods that go along with fresh fish, such as wasabi, nori, etc, but she was the perfect guide from all her insider information and numerous trips to the market.

This morning, we met near Tsukiji station at 7am, and while waiting for others to arrive I had a look around a nearby temple. There was a convention to be held later in the day on the premises, one that would bring together hundreds of sects of Buddhism from across Japan, but I was more curious about the strange architecture of the building. As is evident from the pictures to either side, there were clear Roman, Middle Eastern, and Japanese architectural influences. Apparently, during the Meiji Era (the period in which Japan rapidly modernized, as is shown in the movie The Last Samurai), the government financed different cultural projects that were to incorporate ideas from around the world. While they may have been successful in modernizing Japan on the whole, the architectural fusion looks like a disaster.

Once everyone arrived, we walked a few blocks to get a bite to eat along the outskirts of Tsukiji market. There were stalls lining the streets selling everything from cutting knives to ramen noodles, but on a cold morning like today it was the steaming hot noodles I was after.

With my mouth still burning from the scalding soup and excessive pepper I inevitably pour on my noodles, we headed through the warehouses and into the heart of the world's most famous fish market. If it wasn't for Eric watching my back, I would have been run over on several occasions. What most people don't realize is that Tsukiji is not a tourist place: it is a place of serious business where tourists are not welcome because (like me) they often get in the way and slow them down. I learned from my mistake, and hung close to the group as we snaked our way through the trucks and forklifts screeching around in an environment similar to downtown New York City. In fact, as the picture to the right demonstrates, there are even police officers on duty who direct traffic at the busier intersections within the fish market.

After ten minutes of walking the smell of fish became overpowering and I knew we had arrived at the inner-part of Tsukiji, called jonai. The primary warehouse where the fish were being sold was massive, and my best estimates are likely a poor substitute to the real figures, but I would say the complex was 200 meters by 200 meters, and with only 2 feet of space in many of the walkways it was a very confined environment.

Now,for the good stuff: if something lives in the ocean, you can find it at Tsukiji. And it even gets better than that: if you are looking for something in particular, you can find it any way you like, be it decapitated, chopped into slices, frozen in bulk, bloodied in a bucket, or still swimming in a tank. Once more, my words are a poor substitute for the reality, and pictures are the best way to re-create the environment, so here goes...

From cutting frozen fish with power tools, to box upon box of frozen fish, to a quasi-sales department that will call around if a particular shop doesn't have what you are looking for...

From the "I'm not even going to ask what is in that bucket (at least they go down smoothly)," to dead squid and colorful sea cucumbers, to all the shell fish one could want...

From "what the hell just poked me?!" to bloodied eels eerily looking up at you, to all the cheap crab you can eat.

From taste tests, to taste tests, to taste tests (an obvious advantage of going with Kumagai-san's friends, who are regular consumers)...

From fish leftovers, to soon to be a leftover, to "How could anyone have left that?"...

From modern day samurai hard at work...

To taking a break, and then going right back at it with a bigger tool...

Yes, the Tsukiji fish market has it all, and in copious amounts...

Probably because they can't get rid of a lot of it...

Buying a dozen varieties of sushi and touring the fish market took care of the first half of the day, but the second half proved to be every bit as fruitful. Starting at the fish market, we began a walking tour along the Tokyo harbor with the rooftop penthouse near Ginza as our destination. I have the luxury of (1) being a curious gai-jin (foreigner), and (2) having people more than happy to teach me Japanese customs, so the 20 minute walk turned into a three hour tour.

The first place we stopped at was a small shrine that dates back fro the Edo era (time period before the Meiji Restoration). The shrine was created to protect fisherman from the dangers of the sea, and every year there is a ceremony whereby the large dragon-like masks (shown to either side) are carried through the surrounding neighborhood.

As far as the proper etiquette for this particular shrine, there was a kind of woven portal through which one must first enter, walk around to the left, and enter again (to be repeated three times) before performing a ritual in front of the shrine area. I was instructed on all the steps in the process - pouring the cup of water over one's left hand, right hand, and then cupping the water to drink - and it was important I didn't make any mistakes because following me in line was a small group of monks performing the same ceremony. It was neat to watch, so I have gone ahead and included some pictures of the ceremony (shown below).

The next detour was through the outer-limits of Tsukiji, called jogai, where massive markets are tucked away in small side streets, and the wares include everything one might need to eat and prepare fish - from cutting knives to nori (dried seaweed) to different varieties of wasabi, etc. It was easy to get lost among the mobs of people, so I ended up rendezvousing at the far end of the market at a specified time. In the mean time, I meandered through the markets - standing out like a sore thumb and towering over everyone.

As is likely becoming apparent, this was one hell of a long day, but when everything is as interesting as this I am more than happy to use whatever spare batteries I have to keep going. (The coffee-break at a French cafe helped.)

The next part of the walk took us over a river leading into the Tokyo Harbor and onto an island famous as a both a wealthy retreat during the Edo era and a government-subsidized area for fisherman to reside.

Once on the island itself, we were directed to a famous shop selling some kind of Japanese topping that, despite looking utterly disgusting, is actually quite famous (and as I would later discover, tasty.) Based on the picture to the left, I am sure I have some sympathizers out there - would you eat that?

Further onward, we passed through a fairly traditional looking neighborhood where another quiet shrine was tucked away. Once again, I performed the same ritual as from this morning with regard to the cup of water (shown below, center).

The final place we stopped at was certainly the least exciting: a supermarket. Nevertheless, it was necessary to pick up last minute essentials before preparing the food - good sashimi and sushi was the point of the day, after all. And with everyone's arms and legs ready to fall off, we were constantly reminded just how much raw fish was purchased.

More pictures from the walk...

Finally, at around 2pm we reached the penthouse apartment with the best view of Tokyo I have seen thus far (excluding the government skyscrapers and the places where one must pay, such as Roppongi Hills.) Even better, both Mesuda-san and her husband are artists, so the apartment was chic and full of interesting artwork. While the women went to the kitchen to do most of the preparation, I stood out on the deck and admired the view. Tokyo really is an amazing place, and not only does it offer everything one could want in terms of material goods, but it also offers a tremendous amount of cultural variety. Below is my best attempt to create a panoramic view (using three sequential photos - very amateur.)

Eventually, I was discovered out on the deck, and they called me in to learn something from this whole ordeal. Normally, I hate cooking, but I figured this was too good an opportunity to pass up. So, first I began preparing the rice so that it could be used to make sushi. This is a simple process whereby a large quantity of steaming hot rice is laid out (in our case in the wooden bowl shown to the right) while both vinegar and  salt are poured on. Next, I vigorously mixed the rice before it cooled so that it would become sticky enough to make sushi.

My next task involved grinding the wasabi root so we could have the mashed form of wasabi that comes to most people's minds. This is a process very similar to grinding cheese, except a wasabi mush is created rather than strips of cheese. Lastly, I gave a small hand in the cutting of the raw fish, but this is the most challenging part and I left it mostly to the experts. By the time we were finished, there was a real feast on our hands...

The food was delicious, as was the fine bottle of champagne with which it was served. I am not convinced champagne is a normal beverage when eating sake, but in my opinion it tastes good enough to drink with any meal.

And finally, a picture of the terrific guides and chefs for the day, as well as an amazing sunset over Tokyo.

December 14, 2007

Tokyo (JAPAN)

Dinner with Both the "Father of Play Station" and Play Station's Former President

About a week ago I received news from Kumagai-san that Ken Kutaragi, the acclaimed "Father of Play Station," agreed to meet myself and several friends for dinner at a premier restaurant in Harajuku. This opportunity was the result of a dinner spent with the CEO of Sony Financial (and former President of Play Station) who took the initiative in rewarding our interest in technology. I was understandably ecstatic at the idea of meeting the man who was the brains and inspiration behind the world's most advanced gaming system, and so I have spent the last couple of weeks learning everything I could about the system and its technology. Naturally, this meant I had to actually give Play Station 3 a try, and my otaku friend Eric was more than happy to oblige (otaku is a famous Japanese word for highly knowledgeable/absorbed geek.)

Between extensive internet research, a few nights of gaming, and several long phone calls to friends around the world (thanks again, Shawn), I was more than prepared when I finally met Kutaragi-san this evening.

Now, enough of the background information, here is how the night went...

Julien and Neil met at our house in Gotenyama at around 3pm, and we spent the next few hours chatting and watching television (hardly exciting stuff.) By 5pm we donned our jackets and other formal attire as we headed out the door for the 20 minute ride on the JR Yamanote line to Harajuku. Although we had precise directions and a map to the restaurant, we walked directly past the restaurant twice before we finally spotted the entrance, which was tucked away behind vines and located in a quaint building that blended well with all the others on the street. Immediately, Takumi realized this was going to be an amazing night as restaurants like this are only meant to be found by people who know of its existence, thereby preserving the elite clientele.

Indeed, we walked through the door and found ourselves alone on the ground floor with only the owner and two attendants present. We explained we were here for the dinner, and they directed us up the side stairway to the only private room in the restaurant. Shortly afterward, Tokunaka-san and Nagawa-san joined us, and we spent 20 minutes catching up before Kumagai-san and Kutaragi-san arrived.

Before I go into details for the 3+ hour dinner, I really should mention that the caliber of food was easily the highest caliber Asian food I have ever seen, much less tasted. There were no menus at the table; Tokunaka-san simply instructed the chef to prepare the food he thought we would enjoy. This is the truest sign of class in Japan because it means no thought is paid to cost - the host only cares to ensure the guests have the best food and enjoy themselves thoroughly. The only thing we did have the option over was the drinks, and it was a mixture of Ebisu beer, premium sake, and the smoothest shochu I have ever tasted. While I cannot remember all the dishes, I do know we tried such things as finely prepared Kobe beef (the variety where the cows are made to listen to Mozart to "cultivate" them before slaughter), abalone wrapped in a soft lettuce-like vegetable, yakitori with the most succulent of meats, a variety of sashimi and sushi dishes, and goodness knows home many other dishes that I have never seen before (and likely will never see again).

Now, back to the good stuff: the conversation. I was instructed not to repeat too much of what was said because the people in the room are obviously highly-placed and privy to the kind of private information companies keep from the public/competition, but I will write about the big themes I took away from the dinner. The best way to accomplish this is to hone in on the questions I had, and how Kutaragi-san and Tokunaka-san addressed them.

Warning: some of this information may come off as being slightly "dry," but I find it interesting and as it will certainly affect us all in the future it will hopefully make for good reading.

Firstly, I wanted to know what made Sony take the initiative, and massive risk, of developing a new type of processor that would be in direct competition with the likes of Intel, IBM, and AMD - all established leaders in the realm of processing chips with unprecedented financial backing.

Tokunaka-san handled this question by responding that Sony has always been based on the concept of empowering its engineers to break new ground by developing technology that significantly improves the quality of the greater populace. From my readings of Made in Japan (Akio Morita, part-founder of Sony), and other books citing the "Sony mentality," I would agree that this mentality isn't just corporate hot air. There really is a top-to-bottom feeling in Sony that the technology they develop makes people's lives better, be it by offering a crisper television picture, great recording capabilities, or in this case greater gaming potential. However, Tokunaka-san followed up these comments with the important remark that the new processor, called the Cell, is not limited to the realm of gaming. Rather, it is being put into a wide array of other Sony products that will offer unimaginable benefits. While I cannot go into more detail regarding what these benefits are, suffice to say that the prospects for future products have increased tenfold, and this is with products that are already in existence (but which have yet to be released.)

With the justification of the new Cell technology being that it applies to far more than just the gaming industry, which is in direct competition with multi-core processors (Pentium, x86, Multi-cores, etc), my next big question revolved around the future of Sony Play Station, and indeed the gaming industry, now that computers have become such a powerful and integral part of people's lives. For example, while it is true many hard-core gamers own a gaming console (such as Play Station, Wii, or X-Box), every one of those gamers also owns a powerful computer - and there are many examples of people who only own a powerful computer because it can perform more functions than gaming.

Kutaragi-san took the lead in addressing this question, and this ended up turning into an hour long conversation as it goes into the future of not only the gaming community, but also the future potential for data retrieval (which is essentially what gaming is all about.) His first words were also his most controversial as he said, "Console gaming is finished. The current crop of consoles on the market are the last you will see because, as you pointed out, computer processors will take over. But this is not what is important: this is how previous generations of processing technology were based, not how the future will shape up." This naturally caught everyone's attention, and we all drew in as Kutaragi-san expanded on his ideas - and trust me, Kutaragi-san is, if all else fails, is a man with plenty of ideas.

I will try to spare expanding upon all Kutaragi-san's points, but the main idea is that the personal computer (or personal console) was a Microsoft invention that worked brilliantly for the past 20 years. The concept was simple: people purchased a personal computer (or console), and proceeded to load different programs onto it, and off they went. In other words, some one bought a Play Station 3, bought 10 games (literally disks containing the software), and created their own personal system separate from the greater world. However, with the likes of Google and IBM creating a globalized network accessible by people all over the world, and the astronomical increase in bandwidth (how much data can be sent across connections), it is restrictive to focus on a personal system. Instead, people only need a platform on which different software can be run, such as a computer or cell phone, and all the information/software can then be accessed on a global network, such as the internet. What this means is the following: no more buying a Windows XP package from the electronics store and loading it onto your computer, and no more buying computer games or DVDs and inserting the disks every time you want to play. What the likes of Google Earth have shown is that powerful software can be accessed remotely, bypassing the need to physically load something onto one's own computer. What all this comes down to is that the computer, or personalized hand-held device, has the greatest potential for growth because it connects into the global network, and has the most "room to maneuver"  - don't buy physical copies of anything, just access whatever you want from the web.

I tried to summarize the main points as well as I could, but if anything is unclear please feel free to send me an email because I don't mind discussing these topics in greater depth - I find them interesting and the concepts will certainly come to life in the foreseeable future.

After receiving business cards from all the people present, we said our goodbyes and saw everyone out. Particularly interesting was how, within seconds of stepping outside, a stretched Mercedes-Benz stopped in front of the restaurant and whisked Kutaragi-san, Tokunaka-san, Kumagai-san, and Nagawa-san away. We were left stunned at the Matrix-like way the driver was on the ball and prepared to pick them up because this was a small street in a quiet neighborhood of Harajuku, but somehow the driver was right on time.

Afterward, Takumi, Julien, Neil, and I walked 15 minutes to the Shibuya district, which has the busiest and brightest nightlife scene in all of Asia. We were floating on air after the night, and decided to hit a bar for a night of drinking. We ended up staying out until the last train at 1am, and capped off an amazing night.

December 8, 2007

Tokyo (JAPAN)

Tokyo Tech Annual Football Tournament

Waking up this morning was awful, and there is no way I would have endured such a blinding hangover if it wasn't for the opportunity to compete in a football tournament. There is nothing like the excitement of winning to get the adrenaline going, and it was with such a mindset that I stumbled down the stairs and out the door with a backpack full of my gear at 8am this morning. I stopped at a 7-11 to buy several Red Bull energy drinks and a bottle of water, but the real miracle pills were inside my bottle of extra-strength aspirin.

Our first football match wasn't until 10:30 (thankfully), so I had several hours of additional recovery time, without which I would have been a disaster on the field. I have heard rumors that many of the best footballers (Tony Adams, Roy Keane, Alan Shearer, and George Best, to name a few) were reputed to show up at games still drunk, so I was hoping such a historical precedent would reap similar rewards for me.

And indeed, it did! Our team went on to win our first three matches, with me controlling the midfield and leading the tournament's scoring charts with 5 goals and 3 assists. I felt fine as long as I was on the field running, but every time the game ended (the matches were 20 minutes each and were played on a small pitch), my world started spinning and I had to flush my system with more water.

Our team was comprised of players from France, Denmark, Sweden, Australia, and America, while most of the other teams were uniform in their nationalities (Japanese, Indonesian, Chinese, Vietnamese, Nepali, Thai, etc.) Also, the other teams played together frequently, whereas our team was a rag-tag group put together at the last minute. What actually happened was when we heard there was $$ to be gained from winning the silly tournament we got on our horses and signed up. A taste of the big bucks and worldly fame brought back memories of Singapore, where I once won several hundred dollars in a football tournament on Sentosa Island.

Ashamedly, I was ejected from one of those games on Sentosa for "violent conduct" (a load of crap, truthfully), and the same thing nearly happened today when other teams started hacking away at my ankles and pulling me to the ground. I have had enough bad experiences with teams taking me out (see these photos from yet another tournament held in Singapore), and I have never taken kindly to losing to begin with. So, when confronted with the prospect of getting hacked and losing as a result I probably have a slight tendency to over-react, and today was no different when I found myself going after a few opposing players and throwing one to the ground. Either way, they got the message, and I was lucky to stay on the field while adding more goals to our team's cause.

But in the end, it was not meant to be: we were eliminated on points after a few unlucky goals meant we couldn't advance - on account of a rubbish points difference (we were, in my opinion, the strongest team). At the end of the day, I finished the tournament, which included over 200 players, as the top scorer, but I couldn't shake the frustration at missing out on the opportunity to walk away as the champion.

Next time, I suppose.

December 7, 2007

Tokyo (JAPAN)

Kimchi Nabe Party: Welcoming Back Takumi

In order to welcome back Takumi from England, where he is currently on a one year exchange at Oxford University, we held a kimchi nabe party at the house and invited half a dozen of his friends to join us. Takumi did most of the cooking, which was a relief because there was  a lot of food that needed to be prepared, while I was left with the difficult task of distributing alcohol. In truth, this was a fairly straightforward activity; the only real challenge was determining which beer, bottle of sake, bottle of wine, or hard liquor to drink next. Even this became a simple matter of course because by the end of the night (morning, rather), we had tried them all.

I suppose it is worth clarifying exactly who came over for the night, and what exactly kimchi nabe is. I'll start with the food: it is a type of hot pot that includes everything from vegetables to meats to fungi, and the kimchi part of it means the pot is prepared with plenty of spice.

As for the people, they are all high school classmates of Takumi's at Japan's highly prestigious Azabu high school. It wasn't hard to recognize that everyone in the room will some day go on to shaping the future of Japan in a major way - the high school is famous for this - and this couldn't be more true than for Takumi himself. Unfortunately, he has his mind set on investment banking career (despite my best attempts to convince him of pursuing a more productive" career that creates wealth, rather than simply capitalizing on the efforts of others.)

The party stayed in full swing until late, but I eventually had to call it a night because tomorrow morning I was to take part in the annual Tokyo Tech football tournament. By the time I hit the pillow it was too late to worry about a hang-over: I drank a few glasses of water, popped an Advil, and set my alarm while hoping for the best.