November 25, 2007

Tokyo (JAPAN)

Cheapest Bar in Tokyo (And You Never Would Have Guessed Where)

This post may not mean much to some people, but for anyone who will be visiting Tokyo for an extended period of time, you may find a lot of practical use from the following information...

Like other developed locations across Asia, such as in Singapore and Hong Kong, alcohol can be quite expensive in Japan. The cause stems from heavy government taxing, but the effect is a change both in what people choose to drink and where they choose to drink it. For example, rather than spending 290 yen ($3USD) on a can of Japanese beer from a convenience store, one can buy hipposhu, which is a beer-substitute that tastes the same as beer (but somehow isn't), for half the price. Another alternative is to opt for a Japanese hard liquor called choshu that is closer to a kerosene-tasting "home brew" than the "standard spirits" that come to most people's minds (ie vodka, whiskey, rum, and so on).

Such alternatives take care of what people choose to drink, but the second half of the challenge is figuring out where to drink . This is a bigger problem than most people would imagine because land is scarce in Tokyo, and most homes are too small to accommodate visitors. Indeed, it is considered normal for close friends to never visit one another's homes. The trouble with meeting at bars and restaurants is the high price of rent applies to everyone, including restaurateurs, and this cost gets passed down to customers in the form of higher prices for drinks. For example, that same 290 yen can of beer from 7-11 would cost roughly three times more at a bar, and none of the "substitutes" (hipposhu or choshu) are offered.

You can imagine how excited I was to discover a way to kill both birds with a single stone: quality beer at a cheap price, and in an environment closely resembling a typical bar. Where am I talking about? The Ebisu Brewery, which is only a five minute walk from Ebisu Station.

This afternoon I met several friends for a tour of the brewery, but it wasn't long before we noticed something strange: despite seeing many people coming in and out of the exit, there were hardly any other people alongside us on the self-guided tour. Things became more apparent when we finished touring the museum and entered the sampling section of the brewery: it was packed, and with locals, not tourists! There were several vending machines listing the price for the different varieties of beer, and by paying 200 yen one received a plastic chip for whatever they selected. Included on the "menu" was plenty of variety, including a blonde, a black, an ale, and a pilsner. Although there was a 10-15 minute wait before a table opened up, it was easily worth the wait. I started out with the sampler (a glass of each on the same tray), but then stuck with my favorite: Yebisu Premium. Again, the bright red faces around us and the boisterous Japanese voices highlighted that this isn't a tourist hang-out, but a local hang-out where people can easily meet for cheap drinks and an open environment.

For the record, Yebisu Premium beer costs 1000 yen at Footnik (the sports bar at which I watch many Arsenal matches), while it is only 200 yen for the freshest version on the planet at the Yebisu Beer Museum. My biggest regret is that it took me so long to discover this gem of a place, but I will visit again in the near future and post more pictures.

November 24, 2007

Mt Fuji (JAPAN)

Upscale Tex-Mex in Tokyo and High-Tech Gaming

It is crazy to think of some of the things I have learned to live without while living in Asia: proper deodorant (as opposed to the sticky roll-on variety to which I have grown accustomed), a fork and knife (although I now, hands down, prefer chopsticks with every meal), and of course the amazingly satisfying taste of Mexican food. Well, not real Mexican food per se. After all, as a friend recently pointed out: I have never actually been to Mexico, so how can I truly know what Mexican food tastes like? Personally, such a ridiculous question sounds like simple semantics, but to be fair I will use Tex-Mex to describe the variety of food every American loves (despite its often devastating gastric effect).

Since fine dining establishments like Taco Bell, Moe's, and Chipotle only exist within a 500 mile radius of Mexico - thereby adding to their street credibility within the Mexican community (who are all obviously avid customers) - I was prepared to settle for any restaurant offering melted cheese and tortilla cheeps. And cervezas, of course. So, after a quick internet search and a little asking around, I found a popular restaurant called Zest that offered the most up-scale Mexican food I will ever encounter. I rang up a few American friends and we met in Ebisu for what would become a strangely eclectic night out.

Sadly, the food wasn't anything to write home about. Granted, it is difficult to make bad Tex-Mex, provided one has melted cheese, tortilla cheeps, and cold cervezas on hand, but the (relatively) small serving sizes didn't justify the pricy menu. Even the borderline vegetarian, Neil, was left itching for more food. As a side note, Neil didn't realize he didn't realize he disliked Japanese food until after he arrived in Tokyo, and he has dropped 15 kg (32 lbs) in only four months...

Fortunately, our waitress spoke English well enough to hang around for a few laughs, and she even had the decency to smile at my recycled list of "clever Japanese phrases." (It's always a good way to get a better tip out of me, but I will forever cling to the hope she was actually amused).

In the middle of dinner we were entertained with a 15 minute bartending performance at the center of the restaurant - complete with flying liquor bottles, flaming drinks, strobe lights, and pulsating music. This kind of European bar-scene felt strangely out of place with the spaghetti-Western decor on the walls, but I have seen odder things.

I couldn't resist taking a picture of the tongue-in-cheek sign on one of the walls (shown to the left) because it was a strange reminder of the kind of bumper stickers I see back in the "Deep South" of the United States.

After dinner most of us were still hungry so we headed across the street to the AM/PM (a type of convenience store) and bought alcohol and snacks. Then, like college frat boys on a front lawn or wannabe "cool kids on the block" sitting on a New York stoop, we camped outside the convenience store and warmed ourselves with liquor. Particularly entertaining was my Japanese friend, Yoshi, who enlightened everyone on certain aspects of Japan that guide books and tour guides hide can't tell foreigners. Lastly, props must go out to Kyle for rustling up a bottle of Black's whiskey, which at only a few dollars was a wrenchingly quick way of warming up in the winter cold.

By 11pm I was getting ready to head off to a pub to watch the Arsenal match, but with another hour and a half before I had to worry about catching the last train I decided to follow a few of the guys to a gaming center. Now, for those of you out there who imagine Japanese gaming centers as childish arcades, you cannot be farther from the truth. The reality is that the gaming machines each cost thousands and thousands of dollars, which represents a tremendous advancement from the days of Pac Man or Street Fighter. Although girls are somewhat of a rarity in such gaming centers, the age range does vary from 8-45 years old. The arcade we happened to try out had an entire floor dedicated to music-inspired games, and as the surrounding pictures demonstrate, one could put a band together with enough practice here.

On the other hand, getting a girlfriend when she finds out you frequent a place like this might make life considerably more difficult...

At 12:30am I hopped on the last train on the Yamanote line and then walked to the Footnik pub near Osaki Station. The match kicked off at 1am, and after a bit of pleading the owner decided to keep the bar open for the remaining two matches of the evening (Arsenal 2 - 1 Chelsea and Manchester United 0 - 1 Bolton). By the time the pub closed I was coming off the high generated from another Arsenal win, and I hustled back to the house in the early morning cold. So much for a simple night of Mexican food.

November 18, 2007

Mt Fuji (JAPAN)

Climbing Mt Fuji (well, part of it)

We were all up early this morning - 6am early - and by 7am we had finished a full breakfast, several pots of coffee, and were climbing into an SUV for the ride to Mt Fuji. Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I had to double check why such an early start was necessary. As was explained to me, by 10am the clouds move in on the mountain leaving zero visibility above 1500m.

We drove up the side of the mountain toward the level 5 parking area (level 10 is the summit of the mountain), and en route we passed a toned down ski area with vacationers taking off down the man-made slopes. Further on was a winding rode that slowly snaked its way up the mountain - back and forth, back and forth, back and forth...

When we passed level 3 (roughly 1200m) we had to slow down even further because the roads were all iced and the SUV started sliding ever so slightly on the slick pavement. Finally, we reach the small parking lot from where we could begin our climb (guided by Nagawa san.) Since the SUV was heavily heated I wasn't at all prepared for the wind or cold that slammed me as I stepped out of the car. Quite literally, I was nearly blown off my feet as I struggled to reach a small building where I could use a toilet and find some momentary shelter from the elements.

The temperature was -15C (nearly 0 degrees Fahrenheit), and although I had no way to gauge the actual speed of the wind gusts, they were reminiscent of the tropical storms that used to strike Florida during hurricane season. The ferocity of the wind is something that cannot be appreciated until people try to climb the mountain for themselves. In fact, the primary cause for death on Mt Fuji is from being blown straight off the mountain when one of the gusts unexpectedly hits. The winds come straight off the Pacific ocean to the east, and after having traveled thousands of miles unhindered by land or impedance they strike the face of Fuji and are thrust upward at an even greater velocity.

The official climbing season is from July 1st - August 27th, and outside this small window all facilities are closed. With 120 million people living in Japan, I imagine the mountain can become quite crowded "in season". Unfortunately, without proper equipment, it is impossible (even suicidal) to make a full summit attempt in the dead of winter. I put aside my natural inclination to prove that it can be done and instead forged my way up the main trail until I reached Level 7. I then broke off on another path heading for a smaller peak that looks like an unseemly lump on the side of Mt Fuji. This mini-peak was created during Mt Fuji's last explosion in 1707 (ending in 1708), and it was the closest I could come to "conquering" a part of Fuji - at least until winter passes.

Shown below are a few photos taken near the top of my climb, but again the pictures don't do justice to the bone-chilling cold or the tremendous winds. Quite literally, I was forced onto my hands and knees because I couldn't stand upright without being bowled over.

At around 10:30am the clouds moved in and I struggled to see anything more than 3 feet in front of me. Fortunately, Nagawa san had warned me of this and I was able to eventually find my way back to the main trail. I reached the parking lot where the SUV was parked by 11:30am, and while waiting for the car to heat up I bought a few canned coffees from the vending machine near the bathrooms. I stuffed the cans inside my clothes as I struggled to warm up, but I didn't feel truly normal until I showered back at the house.

I caught a bus back to Tokyo late in the afternoon, and Kumagai san and I finally arrived home at 7pm. It was a full weekend of activity, but nothing that an hour at the public hot baths (and a lie-in the following morning) couldn't cure.

November 17, 2007

Mt Fuji (JAPAN)

Building a Shed, Another Onsen, and Dinner with the CEO of Sony Financial

Days like today only re-iterate what an amazing time I am having in Japan, and without a doubt all credit goes to Kumagai san for the fantastic job she has done organizing the many opportunities I have had. However, before I get ahead of myself with the exciting aspects of the day I must first pay homage to the rough 7am wake-up call.

Despite still being somewhat inebriated from the night before, I munched on my breakfast and drained a cup of coffee before following Nagawa san around the back of the house to begin work on the shed. Although I could see Mt Fuji over the tree line, my attention was focused on the immediate task of building a roof for the structure, and with Julien acting French (lazy, lazy, and lazy) and Neil mastering the art of observation, most of the work fell on my half-frozen fingers. The temperature was just above freezing, and I only have one sweater here in Japan so there was little I could do to stay warm except work harder.

The ineffective Neil left with Nagawa san to pick up Kumagai san and another woman from the bus station, along with supplies from a hardware store, leaving Julien and I alone to work on the shed for four hours. We made remarkable progress, literally constructing the entire roof paneling and support in the time allotted us. It was refreshing to be back out in nature working outside as it is hardly the kind of activity one is exposed to in the urban jungle of Tokyo.

When everyone returned we broke for lunch at a restaurant several kilometers away. I ordered a duck soup that was recommended as the specialty dish, and it did not disappoint - noodles, thinly sliced duck, diced herbs, and a dash of spice all mixed in a light soy based broth. I washed this down with glasses of warm sake, and when the restaurant owner heard I was a student at the Tokyo Institute of Technology ("To Ko Dai" for short) he responded with the typical gasp of astonishment, and immediately followed it up with several bows of respect. As I have been repeatedly told, this university is the "MIT of Japan," which is saying something considering the high level of academics in such a technology driven country as Japan.

After lunch it was back to the grinding stone as we set out paneling the sides of the shed. Having accomplished so much in the morning, I was eager to continue building, and Nagawa san certainly appreciated the effort. We finally wrapped up our efforts around 4pm, and after grabbing a quick change of clothes we immediately set off for the onsen (hot springs).

We ended up spending longer than originally planned at the onsen because it was a particularly nice one with a variety of options to choose from: showers, indoor public baths, outdoor hot springs, 10m hot-water waterfalls, a steam room, an indoor swimming pool, a frigid Jacuzzi, and so so forth. Anyway, by the end of it I resembled, as they say in Japanese, a "cooked octopus," but after the long day of hammering, sawing, and measuring it was a welcome time for relaxation.

Afterward, we hurried home to prepare for a dinner engagement later in the evening. I wasn't entirely aware of what we were doing for dinner until Kumagai san said we were eating at the home of the CEO of Sony Financial, Tokunaka san. I probably shouldn't have been too surprised considering the other connections Kumagai san has established for me, but considering it was only a 50m walk to his house I couldn't help being astonished. Even more taken aback were Neil and Julien, both of whom were especially keen to hear that Tokunaka san worked with the "father of Playstation," Ken Kutaragi. Perhaps I should be more explicit when I say he "worked with" him - rather, Kutaragi san, the Playstation equivalent of Steve Jobs for Apple, worked for Tokunaka san.

Both Tokunaka san and his wife were extremely accommodating, and they cooked a shabu shabu nabe pot with wines from all corners of the globe. The conversation stayed in English most of the time, which really gave an indication of the highly educated company present. Tokunaka san was impressed when he heard that we were all studying and doing research at Tokyo Tech, so he encouraged us to ask us any questions we might have. I jumped at the opportunity, and non-stop chatter lasted straight through dinner.

To re-cap some of what was said, my first question for Tokunaka san was how a law student from the University of Tokyo ended up becoming one of the most successful businessmen in Sony, Japan's most recognizable company? He responded by saying that it wasn't as difficult as some people might imagine (something I have suspected all along), and that as long as one learns critical thinking and has the experience of digging deeply in a particular field then everything else will fall into place. I also asked what he thought were the three most common traits among the successful businessmen he has seen? He responded with: passion for the work at hand, critical thinking to solve problems and stay realistic, and organizational skills to be a strong leader and stay focused. My last topic dealt with Sony Playstation, and although this was an umbrella question that incorporated an array of tangents, he was intrigued by how fascinated I was in the business model. Further, Neil and Julien are serious gamers who know many of the technical details and historical aspects of the the gaming industry, so there were more than a few occasions when everyone at the table broke into laughter when we were up-to-date with the less-known aspects of the industry.

After dinner I cleaned the dishes to show my gratitude for the host and his lovely wife who prepared such an excellent meal (we tried some very expensive side dishes that I will likely never have again.) Meanwhile, Tokunaka san pulled aside Kumagai san and said he would try to arrange a dinner so we could all meet Kutaragi san, and pose our questions to him directly. The opportunity to meet such a well-known figure was mind-boggling to Neil, Julien, and me, and we all showed our enthusiasm at the prospect (although it still seemed like a real long shot.)

We left Tokunaka san's house around midnight, and walked back to Nagawa san's house down the street. However, since there were more people staying tonight, we decided to sleep at his second home on Mt Fuji, which is located a few miles away. This was my first time sleeping on traditional tatami mats, although they were far more comfortable than I first envisioned.

Lying on the mat waiting for sleep, I looked back on the events of the day: from building a shed to sobe noodles to the luxurious onsen to dinner with Tokunaka san to sleeping in another house at the base of imposing Mt Fuji, life could not be much more exhilarating.

November 16, 2007

Mt Fuji (JAPAN)

Catching a Bus to Mt Fuji and a Sushi Dinner with a... Japanese Cowboy

My Japanese language course begins at 9 o'clock in the morning, so on days like today I have to deal with the morning crowd heading to work on the Yamanote line. Although this line is nowhere near as crowded as many of the commuter trains, where one literally struggles to breathe and can sleep standing up, it is still something I hate dealing with.

As for the Japanese class itself, for once I am showing modest signs of progress. Most credit is owed to Kumagai san who has insisted I learn hiragana and katakana (two forms of the Japanese alphabet), and she has frequently tested me to make sure I am keeping up with my studies. I can hardly complain about such private tutoring because it makes me look good in class when I am a step ahead of the other slackers.

I had to hurry from Japanese to a mechanical engineering design course, which is conducted entirely in Japanese. My research professor, Okuma Sensei (sensei is a title given to professors), is a "big wig" and insisted I enroll in this class as it will be good for me to experience authentic Japanese style and vice verse for the Japanese students. So far, the class has been a resounding success because, even though I cannot understand a word of the lectures, all the work is group based and we are having a successful go at building a trash disposal system.

The lecture part of the class lasts right up until lunch, at which time Julien and I head off with swarms of other students to buy bento at a small shop on an otherwise quiet street near campus. Particularly interesting about lunch today was the can of Dr Pepper I picked up to go along with my meal: is it just me or are those graphics too explicit for something young children drink? My Japanese friends didn't seem to think anything was wrong with the graphics, which is probably fair considering the heavy role anime (animated shows/movies) and manga (adult comics) play in the life of Japanese males. Personally, I think many manga magazines go way over the top: often there are young girls (12-15 years old) shown in their panties either bending over or can in a state of distress. There is definitely a hidden element to Japanese culture that is not readily apparent to the casual observer, but it is something that is likely more prevalent than I would like to hope.

My design group is still designing the vast collection of parts using programs like AutoCAD and Solid Works, so the afternoon flew by. In fact, time nearly got away from me when I realized I would have to hurry to reach Shinjuku so that I could catch the 4:30pm bus leaving for Mt Fuji. I will be spending the weekend at Nagawa san's mountain house, a man whom Kumagai san introduced me to, and I was able to invite Julien (France) and Neil (California) along with me. The three of us met at Ookayama Station and caught an express train to the bus terminus where we bought our tickets and boarded the coach bus.

Nagawa san met us at a stop down the line, and after a two hour journey we alighted from the bus, eagerly climbed into the back of his Audi for the drive to his house. On the way, we stopped at a supermarket to pick up dinner for the evening, sushi, sashimi and nabe, and I also bought a 2L bottle of sake.

The house was far nicer than what any of us could have hoped for, and we immediately felt at home with Nagawa san, an authentic Japanese cowboy. In truth, he is a highly successful entrepreneur, but when asked what he would have done differently if he could re-live his life his immediate response was: become an American football player. For anyone who knows the Japanese, this is kind of a response is completely off the radar, and one that was well deserving of several toasts of warm sake.

We finished off the entire bottle of sake and afterward moved on to premium Scotch whiskey while we sat around the fire sharing a laugh. Although tomorrow was to be a busy day - the trade-off for Nagawa san's hospitality was that we would help him build a shed in the back of the house - we didn't get to bed until well after midnight, and even then my world was still spinning. In a good way.

November 8, 2007

Tokyo (JAPAN)

A Typical Day in the Life: Tokyo

Like many Asian countries, Japan does not follow the patterns of daylight savings (going forward or backward an hour to maximize daylight and minimize energy costs), and so the sun is up at 5:30am every morning. I usually keep the blinds down in my room so this doesn't wake me, but I must have forgotten last night and I paid the price for my negligence by rolling out of bed. One the unique aspects of Japan is that many people sleep on the floor, myself included. To be fair, I don't actually sleep on the floor, but rather on a comfy mattress that rests on the floor. This custom is a throwback to ancient Japan when tatami mats and roll-up mattresses were the norm, and I have not noticed any difference between sleeping one foot off the floor and four feet off the floor. Perhaps this custom could be imported to America where young children often fear the monsters hiding under the bed.

After quickly logging onto my laptop to check my hotmail account - half the people I know operate on a time frame that is the polar opposite of mine -  I walked down to the second floor of the house to make my morning cup of coffee - boiled water with instant coffee mix and a splash of milk. The cat, Neiko-chan (chan is a title given to young people or animals), began rubbing against my legs and softly biting my calves as a signal that it was time to to be fed, and I made sure to replenish his water and pour cat food in his bowl. Neiko chan is the first cat I have ever liked, although it is probably because he is the first cat that has actually taken an interest in me. The reality of our relationship is probably less sentimental in the cat's mind: I do the feeding, and I have a tendency to over-feed him, so what's not to love?

Anyway, with my favorite "Texas" mug in hand (this mug is larger than all others in the house, lending credence to the idea that "everything is bigger in Texas") I continued my descent to the ground floor where I started the shower. I set my mug on the coffin-resembling wooden bathtub where one can completely submerge them self, and squatted on a small stool with a brass bucket for dumping water on myself. The shower pours down from above while I rub myself clean with soap and dump buckets of hot water over my body. It is a refreshing way to bath, and one that is common at all public baths in Japan.

The weather in Tokyo has been beautiful this year, and despite it being mid-November I still wear jeans, a t-shirt, and flip-flops. After dressing and packing my bag for the day, I met Kumagai san in the dining area where we chatted and ate breakfast together. On weekends she cooks a full meal (toast, eggs, melted cheese over tomatoes, rice, grapes, oranges, and bacon), but on weekdays I stick with peanut butter on toast and a cup of orange juice. What a distinct difference there is between our cooking abilities! We agreed to meet that evening at 9pm to cook dinner, and by 8:30am both of us set off in different directions: Kumagai san to Sony Headquarters near Shinagawa Station and myself to Tokyo Institute of Technology near Ookayama Station.

On either side of this paragraph are pictures I took during the ten minute walk from the house in Gotenyama to Osaki Station. If ever I needed an incentive to work hard, the Ferrari, BMWs, Mercedes Benz's, and Audi's next door certainly do the job.

Conversely, the businessman lying on the park bench demonstrates the kind of stress involved with making enough money to afford such luxurious automobiles. On the spectrum of work and pleasure, it is probably fair to say that businessmen in Tokyo come under some of the world's highest levels of stress - both from the culture at work and the demands that go with success in a Japanese company. The night trains are always packed with men in business suits who immediately enter "hibernation mode," which basically means they pass out the first chance they get. Normally, sleeping requires lying down, or at least sitting down, but the over-crowded trains mean everyone is stuck in place and the exhausted must take advantage of every second they can. I have also seen several instances where foreigners have taken pictures of respectable looking businessmen slouched awkwardly on trains with their mouths gaping open and their minds lost in sleep.

I cross the Meguro River every morning to reach Osaki Station, and with Autumn in full swing the changing of the leaves makes it a beautiful route. Inside the station, I swipe my PASMO card and board the JR Yamanote train, never having to wait more than one minute for the next train to arrive. Inside the train car it is usually crowded, but I have become accustomed to forfeiting all "personal space", and I only have two stops to go before switching onto the Tokyu Meguro Line. I know the time schedule fairly well by now, so I usually catch the Express train that only makes one stop at Musashi-Koyama before arriving at Ookayama station. After swiping my PASMO card to exit the station, and having 130 yen deducted in the process, I walk to my first class of the day: Japanese I.

There are roughly 15 international graduate students who show up to class each week, although on the first day there were closer to 25. The teacher is a kind Japanese woman who breaks the class down into sections on reading (hiragana and katakana), writing (ditto), listening, and speaking. Fortunately, I have been taking tests with Kumagai san to master my writing, and I have already mastered all hiragana (the Japanese alphabet used for Japanese words and consisting of roughly 70 "letters".) The lesson lasts almost two hours, and since this class is designed for graduate students, the nationalities of other students cover every inhabited continent on earth.

After class I walk to the far end of Ookayama campus where my laboratory is located on the 5th floor of one of the university's newest buildings: the Mechanical Engineering and System Dynamics Buildings (Ishikawadai 3). I take off my sandals and leave them on the shelf at the entrance, and say hello to the 15 or so Japanese graduate students working at their computers. My desk is at the end of the row nearest the windows, and I am even able to see Tokyo Tower. This morning I spent an hour going over my peer advisor's thesis in preparation for a conference, but I recently completed a vibrations test that will require analyzing later in the day.

At noon I break for lunch, and along with several other students we walk to the nearest shop selling bento, or Japanese set lunches. At only 340yen, the food is cheaper than anything else one will find in Tokyo, and it also has the benefit of being fairly healthy. It is Japanese style to exercise diversity when eating, and the bento set is no different: grilled salmon, hamburger meat with a BBQ sauce, pea pods, assorted beans, a slice of apple, shredded lettuce, strips of yellow Japanese pickles, a small jello-like desert, and white rice with a pack of wasabi-flavored herbs to give it more taste. It really sounds like a lot when I type all the food, but the diversity is tempered with severe moderation, so much so that I have often wanted to buy a second bento set to feel full. I eat lunch at the lab with the other members, but most of the conversation takes place in Japanese.

After lunch I meet with another graduate student and collect all the data from the test I ran earlier in the week. Basically, I am modeling the dynamic characteristics of a boat by breaking the boat into three substructures: the hull, the engine, and the engine's suspension system. I then perform hammer testing on each substructure to determine the localized dynamic characteristics, store this data in matrices, and use numerical methods to approximate the kind of information one would determine using software like ANSYS. The point of all this is to save time and money, but only time will tell if my work yields any substantial results. The test I ran earlier in the week dealt with the motor, and the machine I used was prehistoric - the results were actually saved on a floppy drive (!!) - and the graduate student helped me convert the files into a language Matlab (software I am using) will understand.

Late in the afternoon I received a call from Julien, a French friend of mine here at Tokyo Tech, and we met down the hall from my laboratory in the ping pong "arena." Quite literally, it is a massive room with padded walls, air conditioning, and a regulation-sized ping pong table in the middle of the room. We have grown accustomed to playing several times a week, and it is now at the point where no other students (Japanese or international, graduate or undergraduate) can compete with us. Do I even need to clarify who is the undisputed leader between the two of us? (I may not need to, but I definitely take pleasure from confirming that it is me.)

After an hour of playing I was sweaty, and so I headed down to the first floor to grab a 110yen ice cream cone from the vending machine. I ate this at my desk while catching up on the day's Arsenal FC blogs (5pm in Tokyo is 9am in London), of which I am an all-too-regular reader. At this point in the day my productivity drops off significantly, so I headed home at 7pm with the sun having set several hours ago.

I stopped at the house to drop of my belongings, and in the process grabbed a change of clothes, toiletries, and a towel before setting off for the public baths. It is only a 5 minute walk from Gotenyama to "Old Shinagawa," which is where the closest public bath is located, and I have been coming 4-5 times per week since I arrived in Tokyo. The procedure is the following:

I leave my sandals in a locker at the entrance, pay 360yen for my admission, and walk into the men's dressing room (from here on out men and women are separated.) Next, I undress and leave all my clothes in a locker before opening the sliding door and walking into the cleaning area with only a hand towel and my toiletries. I grab a small stool and a bucket at the entrance, and find a place to sit. There are usually only 3-4 other people present at any given time, but the washing area can handle up to 40 people so I normally have an entire row of faucets/shower heads to myself. I spend 10 minutes thoroughly scrubbing myself with soap and washing my hair with shampoo before leaving all my belongings and walking over to one of the public baths, which are basically 20ftx8ft hot tubs with water 3ft deep. I soak in the steaming water for as long as I can stand the heat, and then I return to my belongings where I dump buckets of ice cold water on my head. I find this to be the most rewarding way of relaxing tired muscles. All in all, I spend 45 minutes at the public baths.

Back at the house, I fed Neiko chan and relaxed with a mug of hot corn soup while watching CNN morning news (again, the time difference means 8pm in Tokyo is 6am in America.) Kumagai san arrived home just after 9pm and we set to work preparing dinner. I have helped in the preparation of most meals since arriving in Japan, so I am now fairly accustomed to cooking Japanese dishes.

Tonight we had a kind of Japanese hot pot called shabu-shabu nabe, which is loaded with meat, vegetables, and whatever else seems appropriate. In fact, shabu shabu nabe is regarded as a meal for sumo wrestlers because so much food is thrown into the boiling pot. Of course, no steaming nabe meal is complete without chilled beer, and Asahi Dry was the order of the day.

After dinner Kumagai san and I continued discussing plans for the upcoming month, including a trip to Mt Fuji, the beach house, her busy travel schedule, and other logistical issues before I finally called it a night at midnight (after I cleaned all the dishes.)

That about sums up what my average day is like here in Tokyo.

November 4, 2007

Tokyo (JAPAN)

Viewing Japan's National Museum and a Performance by the Tokyo Philharmonic Orchestra

Today was a long day, but as has become the norm for my time in Tokyo it was a day overflowing with great experiences. For example, it is not everyday one gets to meet the President of Sony or see the personal collection of Japan's greatest shogun, Tokugawa.

Perhaps I am getting ahead of myself though because the morning began painfully. That is to say, the morning began early, and as such it took longer for the steaming shower to wake me up and an extra cup of coffee was necessary to keep me up. Kumagai sai and I planned to visit Japan's National Museum at Ueno in the morning, and then to attend a concert conducted by one of the founders of Sony, Ohga san, who kindly gave us free tickets to the performance. So, before heading out for the day I put on my freshly laundered suit and, looking spiffy, downed one last cup of coffee before walking to Shinagawa station.

It was a short ride to Ueno station on the Yamanote Line, but once we exited from the station it was painfully obvious that the fine Autumn weather brought out half of Tokyo to Ueno Park. This didn't bother me too much as it is one of my favorite places in Tokyo - there is plenty of greenery, cultural exhibits, and a never-ending supply of families going for a stroll. I probably stuck out like a sore thumb as there were no other gai-jin in sight, and I was, to put it mildly, slightly overdressed for a morning stroll in the park.

Kumagai san bought our tickets to the National Museum, and we headed straight for the much-hyped Tokugawa exhibition. With all the people crowded against the glass exhibit windows, it felt like the half of Tokyo not found in Ueno park were all visiting this museum alongside me. Nevertheless, I was at a distinct advantage because I towered over everyone and always had a clear line of sight for the various relics. On display was over 300 year's worth of fine goods collected by the strongest family in Japanese history (neglecting the emperor's line), the Tokugawa clan. Although pictures were forbidden inside the museum, on display were such items as samurai armor, katana swords, kimonos, tea ceremony sets, fine porcelain, calligraphy and painted screens, and various other valuables. Best of all, Kumagai san acted as my guide throughout everything, which was a far more useful history lesson than any number of books or lectures combined.

After nearly four hours of viewing the various exhibits, we were both understandably worn out and rested at a cafe near Ueno park. I had a late lunch consisting of shrimp tempura served over soba noodles, but the most important part of the meal were the two cups of coffee, guaranteeing I would not become drowsy during the performance.

We entered the reception area of the concert hall at 3:30pm, and I handed over the two large bouquets I was holding - one for the conductor/co-founder of Sony, Ohga san, and the other for his personal secretary, Ashizawa san. It was with the help of both Ohga san and Ashizawa san that I was able to have the current home stay, and coupled with the tickets for tonight's performance I am deeply indebted to their kindness.

The evening's performance was Verdi's Requiem, and it was dedicated to one of the deceased founders of Sony, Morita san. As impressive as the music was, and it was directed by Ohga san as a commemoratory act toward Morita san, equally impressive was the showcase of high profile individuals also in attendance. For example, Kumagai san said hello to the President of Sony  - an individual I have read much about, but never imagined to meet in person.

By the time we finally got home it was 8pm, and I quickly changed into shorts and a t-shirt so I could head down to the public baths. I have been going 2-3 times a week, and at only $3 per visit it is a cheap way to unwind. Whereas I was one tentative about walking around with only a hand towel, it has now become a mere matter of course. Funnily enough, Toyama san's wife works at an all-girls school near Shinagawa-kita, and another of the teachers told her about a gai-jin who is going to the public baths (it is a very Japanese thing to do). Looks like the rabbit is out of the hat.

November 3, 2007

Tokyo (JAPAN)

Tennis with my Professor and Watching Arsenal/ManUnited at Footnik

After yet another long week, Kumagai san had to wake me up this morning for a late breakfast of "sunny-side up" eggs, melted cheese over tomatoes, bread, bacon, orange juice, and several cups of coffee. We would be heading off in different directions for the day as she had a college reunion to attend, and I had a 12:00 tennis appointment with the head of the Mechanical Engineering Department, Okuma san.

Although I am not much of a tennis player, I am unstoppable at ping-pong (impressive, I know), and I am in fairly good shape. So, it was with some embarrassment that I stepped out on the court, paired with my 53 year old professor, and was dealt a severe beating by two men well into their 60s. Fortunately, they were happy to beat a young man and took great pleasure in doing so. This probably worked to my advantage as both are emeritus professors at other universities in Tokyo, and one is even in charge of the entire research arm of Japan's space division. I played continuously for two hours, losing most sets in the process, before a new group of people arrived and the fun began all over again. In all, I was introduced to seven or eight different 'high ranking professors and academicians' from around Tokyo, and everyone insisted I come back for more next Saturday. This is an opportunity I can hardly refuse to pass up, and I am indebted to my professor for taking me under his wing in this regard.

By the time I got home it was late in the afternoon and I had to forgo my plans to attend a an Industrial Design exhibit in a trendy section of Tokyo. Instead, I threw on a pair of sweats and took to the streets for a long run that left me shattered. I suppose losing at tennis must have left me in the mood for putting myself through a gauntlet, but more likely is the pleasure I get out of racing through downtown Tokyo. Safety goes out the window as I storm across bustling streets and jump railings without so much as breaking my stride. As usual, I followed up my run with a trip to the public baths, which are only a 15 minute walk from the house, and are the ideal way to relax tired muscles.

At 7pm I met a Japanese friend, Dice-K, and a Hong Kong friend, Eric, for dinner near Osaki station. I settled on a rice bowl with diced chicken on top, and I even went so far as to adopt the Japanese custom of cracking open a raw egg to mix in with the rice. Afterward, it was a ten minute walk to a sports bar called Footnik where I watched the much-hyped Arsenal vs. Manchester United match. The game lived up to expectations with Arsenal twice equalizing goals from United, and the second came in the heart-wrenching period of extra time.

There were people standing on the tables screaming at the top of the lungs, and although I was high-fiving everyone around like a giddy kid, I had to refrain from going over the top because Kumagai san stopped by for the final ten minutes of the match. She brought with her an old college friend who lives in Kyushu, which is one of the southernmost islands in Japan. The woman's husband, currently an architect, was a former goalkeeper, so we had plenty to talk about and a good time watching the match. Anyway, she left me with an open invitation to visit her home, and it is an opportunity I hope to make the most of when my studies at Tokyo Tech come to a close.

November 1, 2007
Tokyo (JAPAN)

"Roppongi is not Tokyo"

Roppongi is the undisputed capital for foreigners and expats in Japan. One can find Irish pubs, British bars, American restaurants, French bread, Italian pizzas, German sausages, English bookstores, organic super-markets, various embassies, and clubs full of attractive Japanese girls looking for a foreign boyfriend. It thus serves as the calling beacon for traveling businessmen, tourists struggling to cope with the lack of facilities catering to them, and expats in search of good company. I have only been here on a few occasions, but I decided Halloween night would be as good a time as any to explore the area.

Accompanied by Julien and another French friend of his, we met at a noodle shop several blocks from Roppongi station - noodle dishes are one of the few meals that don't cost an arm and a leg, and are often surprisingly good. Afterward, we walked the streets taking in the various 'sights' - everything from TGI Fridays to Outback Steakhouse - and ended up popping into a British pub for a few drinks. The prices were somewhat inflated, and the bar was far too clean to be an authentic British pub, but it was fun nonetheless. After a couple hours of drinking we decided to try a new place as there were no Halloween festivities going on, and all the people were Japanese businessmen who just got off work.

The streets of Roppongi didn't offer much to be excited about as we were targeted by other foreigners as prime suckers for the over-priced bars, karaoke rooms, and clubs that are run by foreigners. I have already heard several stories about how people  new to Japan can get sucked into such schemes and end up having to pay hundreds of dollars when the night is over. We must have been approached at least 20 times by large men who wanted us to check out their club, but the sketchy nature of these places means I will likely never pass through their doors. At one point, I remember stopping to look around, and I was sorely disappointed with the whole concept of Roppongi. While it obviously serves a useful purpose for those who want a less Japanese version of Tokyo, it is not the kind of place someone living in Tokyo will come to. Shibuya and Shinjuku both have a better night-life scene, and the food at Shinagawa or Ebisu is far better.

All this probably means very little to anyone who has not been to Tokyo, or indeed to anyone who has not heard of the "bright-lights and fun nights" of Roppongi, but it may be useful for anyone planning a trip in the future. If nothing else, remember one important thing: Roppongi is not Tokyo, and it is probably the only district I don't enjoy.