January 31, 2008

Tokyo (JAPAN)

Easier Travel in China

My next backpacking trip through China could become decidedly easier, according to this article from Bloomberg Asia. The Chinese government is bracing for a $62 billion project to expand the most populated country's air network by a further 97 airports. Also worth noting are the figures at the bottom of the article, which highlight the explosive growth taking place in China. And the amazing thing is that the numbers are not just for this year - they have been this way for over a decade now.

For the record, I do not fly when I backpack, and the places I visit usually don't fall in the "82% of the population who contribute 96% of the GDP" category.

January 30, 2008

Tokyo (JAPAN)

Eureka! Our Bento Disposal Machine Works... (Well, sort of)

For the past four months I have been working with a group of eight other engineering students to design a bento disposal machine. (Click here to see what the bento box I had for lunch today looks like. Basically, bento lunches are what 95% of the population eats at lunch time, and should be introduced in America as a far healthier alternative to fast food.) I was able to join this project back in September through the help of Okuma sensei, the head of my research laboratory, and the man who also leads the Control and Systems department at Tokyo Tech.

Anyway, our work finally came to fruition today when we presented our machine to the engineers from industry who will ultimately decide whether or not to sponsor our design. It was a terrific experience for me because my team members were all Japanese, and it was never easy communicating our ideas or coordinating our efforts - working styles are decidedly different (a subject on which I will write more next week.)

Below are some photos showing the basic way in which the machine operates...

Below is video from our attempted demonstration. This is where the "Well, sort of" comment comes into play: we could not get the slicing mechanism to work continuously as the lever arm was probably designed longer than it should have been - an easy adjustment to make in the future. Otherwise, everything you see (other than the power supply) was machined and assembled by us. For anyone who has ever done electrical work or worked with tolerances, you will understand that making this machine from scratch in a matter of months is a far bigger achievement than one might imagine.

I wish I could translate everything being said, but my Japanese is poor, and the demonstration obviously had to be done in Japanese - my role was leading the presentation. Nevertheless, most of the comments probably went something like, "This ought to do it... S***!"

January 28, 2008

Tokyo (JAPAN)

The Best (and only) Jamaican Jerk in Japan, and Lost in Tokyo

After stopping by a Middle Eastern Embassy this morning - another backpacking trip is in the works with details to come later - I walked around the Yoyogi district, which is where Tokyo's famous cosplay scene is centered. Cosplay is actually short for "costume play," and it is a Japanese subculture focused on dressing as characters from manga (comics), anime (animations), tokusatsu (special effects), and other fantasy characters.

While the kind of girls who gather in Yoyogi, Harajuku, and Akihabara generally dress up as a way of having fun, there is obviously an alternative sexual meaning associated with the cosplay world. The appropriately named "love hotels" that are spattered across Tokyo - charging discounted "rest" rates (meaning hourly) - also offer costume rental services for all those with a sexual fetish.

For example, I have heard stories of rooms being designed to look like a subway train car for all those "salary men" who ride the congested trains and fantasize of the women around them. (I wrote an earlier post about the trains that gives more detail into the groping phenomenon). Otherwise, the schoolgirl uniform is probably the most common outfit for sexual cosplay, and it even has its own name: seifuku cosplay ("innocence uniform.")

Enough about cosplay as I find this aspect of Japanese culture to be somewhat disturbing.

I met an American friend, David, for lunch at the Aala Wi Jamaican restaurant, which is only a 10 minute walk from Ebisu Station. As has probably become obvious, Ebisu is my number one pick for dining as it has the greatest variety of cuisines and it is a more mature district than somewhere like Shibuya. I ordered the  jerk pork, served with fried banana chips and rice with real kidney beans. If nothing else, having an alternative to Eastern Asia's ubiquitous steamed white rice is a major draw for Aala Wi. Next time I will make sure to visit in the evenings so I can pound cans of Red Stripe beer.

Since all my exams are basically wrapped up, I decided to skip out on going to the lab today, and instead opted to try walking to Ookayama Station. Of course, it was a miserable failure in the sense that I became completely lost, but it wasn't like I was in a hurry anyway. Plus, I found a slew of interesting shrines en route, and even improved my abysmal Japanese as I was forced to ask for directions (God forbid I actually admit defeat and hop on a train.) Below are some photos of several shrines I came across, and as is typical in Tokyo, they were tucked away in the most mundane places (eg residential neighborhoods or small side streets).

Finally, I have one last comment to make with regard to Japanese temples. Despite having a per capita GDP that is 18 times higher than Myanmar (Burma), Japan's temples all have the kind of weathered look that leads one to believe there is no money for expensive improvements. Myanmar, on other hand, boasts extravagance that mocks Britain's crown jewels. Maybe that is why one country has the second largest economy in the world while being completely deprived of natural resources and isolated on an island while the other - despite having an abundance of resources - is an economic catastrophe.

** Perhaps the above title should be more descriptive: I did not mean "Jamaican Jerk" as in a "Caribbean a**hole," but rather the jerk chicken I had for lunch.**

January 27, 2008

Tokyo (JAPAN)

The Hara Modern Art Museum, Japanese Pasta (?), and Beef Nachos for the Sumo Finale

Ever since arriving in Japan last September I have intended to visit the Hara Modern Art Museum, which is only 100 meters from my home in Gotenyama. Until today, various activities have always managed to get in the way. (Or perhaps it comes down to sheer laziness.) So, after a breakfast of fresh French croissants from Paul, Kumagai-san and I made the three minute walk to the museum, passing through the unassuming gateway I have strolled by dozens of times, and into the quiet modern estate-turned-museum complex.

The history of the museum itself is interesting enough to warrant an explanation. It was first founded by the Japanese businessman-turned-art-lover, Hara Toshio, in 1979 as the first Japanese museum to focus on post-1950 art (after World War II.) He converted the western-style home his grandfather built in the 1930s, and has thus also preserved on of the few examples of 1930s modern architecture in Japan. Next time I visit I will be sure to take more photos of the building because it is quite attractive.

As for the exhibitions, well, who doesn't love modern art? By being the most difficult to understand it actually becomes the easiest: everything is subjective and people are free to see what they want to see. Whenever I don't understand what the hell the artist is trying to say, I can simply smile, mutter banalities like, "Moving!" or "Creative!" and I blend right in.

Photographs were off-limits inside the museum, but the exhibitions covered a variety of media: painting, graphics, sculpture, mobile art, kinetic art, performance, installations, photography, and multimedia. Most interesting was a small, golf ball-sized screen in the wooden floor of a gallery walkway that ran video of a naked woman pleading - screaming in fact - to be released from her torment. It was kind of like we just happened to catch a glimpse down into hell through this small crack in the floor, and in one of the most unexpected places. (Maybe I do understand modern art, after all!)

Another interesting exhibit was more hands-on, and involved an over-sized couch and remote control along with a normal size television screen. To understand the scale, imagine a dog climbing onto the living room couch, and that is what we humans were like on this mammoth creation. The remote alone must have weighed 5 kg (10 lbs), and with 20 or so channels to choose from I did something I never would have imagined at an art museum: sit on a couch and watch television. (The "point" of this one was clearly to highlight the difference in scale.)

Afterward, we decided to complete a mini-walking tour of "Old Shinagawa" as we headed off for an Italian restaurant near Shinagawa Station. The big attraction of the walk was a shrine dedicated to a whale that washed up on the shores of Tokyo back in the 17th century. This was understandably a big deal at the time, and today there stands a park near the whale's tomb - this area was also featured in this month's "Tokyo Living" magazine.

We ate lunch at an Italian restaurant inside Shinagawa Station - meaning we had to pay 140 yen just to reach the restaurant - but competing with the weekend crowds at good restaurants is never easy in Tokyo. Besides several appetizers of fried calamari, oysters, and vegetables, I ordered a plate of Japanese-style Italian pasta. Before today, I never would have guessed that cracking a raw egg over my pasta would taste so good, but when coupled with more of a tomato paste than a tomato sauce (as was the case), the result is worth trying if the opportunity ever presents itself (which is doubtful.)

Since it was already 3pm, I decided against going out to a bar with several American friends, and instead talked Kumagai-san into making beef nachos for the sumo-finale later this evening. I invited Neil over to watch the televised event, and although he isn't anywhere near as crazy about sumo wrestling as me, the idea of Mexican food made the one-hour train ride worthwhile. (As a small side note, it is worth pointing out that nachos are an American invention. I often struggle to think of truly American dishes, but I am proud to say this is one of them! Can anyone confirm that jambalaya is another?)

Although this was the first time Kumagai-san has ever cooked nachos, I don't think there is a Mexican-food lover out there who isn't salivating right now. (Freshly ground guacamole, spiced beef, freshly baked tortilla chips, a hint of Tabasco hot sauce, home-made salsa, melted cheese, sour cream with a dash of mayonaise, and thin strips of lettuce. Mmm, mmm, good)!

As for the sumo tournament, it fully lived up to expectations, and although I wasn't at the Ryogoku arena, the televised event was every bit as exciting. Both the yokozuna from the East, Hakuho, and the yokozuna from the West, Asashoryu, possessed a record of 12-1, and the winner of tonight's head-to-head match would become the undisputed champion until March. The video below shows the match...

Hakuho, the more honorable and noble of the two, starts on the left, with Asashoryu, the arrogant yet historical champion on the right...

January 23, 2008

Tokyo (JAPAN)

Snow in Tokyo!

Just to prove all my whining about the awful cold in Tokyo isn't a hollow complaint, it has actually been cold enough for snow to fall upon Tokyo! I woke up this morning, and looking out my window saw the flurries floating by. I don't care who you are: if you are not accustomed to seeing snow and it catches you off guard, even the most notorious grouches will act like kids on Christmas morning.

January 21, 2008

Tokyo (JAPAN)

My First Sumo Tournament at Tokyo's Famous Ryogoku Arena

This afternoon I caught the Sobu line from Akihabara to Ryogoku Station, which is located next to Tokyo's impressive Ryogoku building (sumo hall.) I immediately met up with two friends from Tokyo University: Yu, who is the Editor-in-chief of the university newspaper, and Yuta, who is a sumo expert and regular attendee. They were to act as my guides for the evening for one of the most recognizable events in Japanese culture.

Our tickets were 3600 yen each, and this was only for the nose-bleed seats. Had we opted to sit on the lower level, where the seating is partitioned into blocks that seat groups of four people on mats, we would each have been looking at spending 10,000 yen on up. Price aside, lower-level seating was never going to be an option for me because there were only round cushions on the ground for comfort. There is no way I could endure sitting cross-legged for several hours.

Our seats turned out to be fairly decent as the sumo hall rarely fills to capacity on Monday afternoons, and we were free to find seats with a better vantage. By the time we settled in the first sumo ceremony began, and all the sumo wrestlers came out to the ring and formed a circle. I smiled knowing that right before my eyes were the 20 biggest men in all Japan.

Afterward, the two Yokozuna wrestlers each stayed on and performed a ritual in the center of the ring, requesting the help of the gods (Shinto religion). Among traditionalists, sumo is still viewed more as a spiritual event in Japan than as a sport, but obviously modern culture and the lure of money have begun to change all that.

When I was young, I thought yokozuna was the name of a famous sumo wrestler, but in fact it is the title bestowed upon the top wrestler from the East and West divisions. Also, the word yokozuna actually refers to a kind of ceremonial rope worn by the two top wrestlers (zuna meaning something like "belt" and yoko meaning something like "horizontal"). The yokozuna (attire) can be seen in the picture to the left, and this picture was taken while performing the ritual of asking for the help of the gods before the matches began.

As for the matches, they are decided by a select panel of sumo officials one day in advance, and the selection is based on who has wrestled who and one's relative rank. So, with the 42 wrestlers in the maku-uchi (elite league) divided into higashi (east) and nishi (west) divisions, sumo wrestlers will have one match every day with another wrestler from the same division. However, matching is made based on one's relative standing, so the lowest ranked sumo wrestler will never face the yokozuna or ozeki (second highest rank) from his division. Then, after 14 matches (two weeks), the sumo wrestler with the most points (from both divisions) becomes the new yokozuna, and the pack is reshuffled across divisional lines. Should there be a tie at the end of the two weeks period, an additional head-to-head match is held, but there is often no final match and never a knock-out tournament.

Here is how each match works...

As is stated above, the fixtures list is produced in advance, so wrestlers all know who they will face and in what order - starting from the weakest, finishing with the strongest, and alternating between nishi and higashi matches. When the two opposing wrestlers enter the ring, which is a sacred place, they squat down in the starting position and mentally prepare themselves, but not fight. Instead, the gyoji (something like a referee) will turn his back to them for 5-10 minutes, allowing them to prepare. While all this is going on, men carrying advertisements will circle the ring. This is important because each advertisement costs 25,000 yen, and the money goes to the winner at the end of the match as a kind of bonus (the sumo wrestlers are paid by the sumo federation at the end of the season, and the level of pay depends on one's final ranking).

When the gyoji finally signals that the match can begin - basically by facing the men - it is up to the wrestlers themselves to choose when to start. The first thing they will do is head for their respective corners to gather strength - often slapping themselves loudly and stomping their feet. (One wrestler in particular, Takamisakari, is famous for being particularly extravagant in the lengths he will go to during the slapping/stomping process, and I have seen him on a variety of Japanese commercials capitalizing on his popularity.) When the men walk back into the ring each throws a fistful of salt as a means of purifying the ground. Next, they squat facing each other, separated by about one meter, and again there is no signal for when to start - the wrestlers look at each other and somehow come to an agreement (often after putting one fist on the ground and looking at the opponent).

Often, one wrestler looks like he was shot out of a cannon, and the other is forced to apply a deflecting technique. There are something like 46 different techniques, so it is not all just about pushing the other guy around. If that was the case, then Miyabiyama, the heaviest wrestler at 184 kg, would win every match. Instead, wrestlers can reach for their opponent's mawashi, or thong-like cloth, and use it to flip the opponent or gain leverage. One of my questions was obviously what happens if the mawashi comes off, but I was assured this never happens, and if it does the wrestler is disqualified (although I did see one partially torn apart later in the evening). Another aspect of sumo that got my attention was the allowance of both harite (slapping) and shote (striking an opponent with the base of the hand), but no clenched fists. Quite often the wrestler with the longer arms would continuously strike his opponent trying to block his line of vision. Finally, a match is deemed over when one wrestler touches the ground outside the ring, or when a knee/elbow/hand touches the ground inside the ring (similar to the rules in American football).

As may be obvious from the picture, the ring, called a tokutawara (literally "lucky ring"),  is not perfectly circular. Instead, it has four imperfections that allow a wrestler a place to stand when he might otherwise be out of the ring - hence the name "lucky ring." Also, the sumo ground itself is raised roughly one meter off the ground to signify it is a holy place, and this often results in wrestlers being sent for a tumble when they are thrown out of the ring. While there were no accidents while I was there, it is not hard to imagine the severity if some one was not paying attention.

That should be enough background information, now for the actual video footage...

This first video is between Asashoryu (very famous/notorious yokozuna, on the right at start) and Ama (sekiwake, or third-ranking sumo, on the left at start). It is an excellent match showing several impressive techniques, and more excitement than a standard sumo match (which can be over in a matter of seconds). Note the following: (1) in second 15 a massive harite (slap) is landed by Ama, (2) soon after both grab a hold of each other's mawashi (thong) and compete for leverage, (3) I scream "ose!" in second 25, urging Asashoryu to "push" Ama out of the ring, (4) Ama makes use of the oddly shaped ring with his right foot in second 33, and prevents himself from being pushed out, (5) how Asashoryu finally flips him in second 42 with incredible strength after the long fight, and (6) how little respect Asashoryu pays to his opponent, which is why 50% of the people love him for his strength and 50% of the people hate his lack of honor. As Yuta pointed out later, "sumo is not a sport, it is about honor."

This next video shows another good match between two wrestlers whose names I have forgotten. Things to notice: (1) the gyoji facing the wrestlers, (2) how the match starts as soon as the left wrestler puts his fist fist on the ground and looks up, (3) the way the wrestler in black looks like he will lose until he grabs his opponent's mawashi in second 15 and swings him around before applying a final ose (push), and (4) although the video cuts off, you can see a sumo wrestler being flung out of the ring and how easily they can crush people.

This last video shows the other yokozuna, Hakuho, competing with Wakanosato, a mid-ranking wrestler from the Higashi division. Worth noting is the way in which Hakuho (on the left at start) quickly grabs his opponent's mawashi, and from then on he is in complete control. Wakanosato does his best to reach for Hakuho's mawashi, but it is no use. The flip in second 25 is still particularly impressive - don't forget, that is a 160 kg man who does not want to be flipped. Commentary from the video refers to "nata", which means "wait" and was said by the gyoji in second six since Wakanosato was not ready to stay.

After the event was over we decided to have chanko nabe ("sumo wrestler hot pot") at a very traditional restaurant only 10 minute's walk from the ryogoku arena. Yuta knew his way around the neighborhood, and he he led the way. At the restaurant, we were shown to a small room on the second floor with tatami mats for flooring and tables only 40 cm off the ground. I took off my shoes at the entrance, and was kindly offered the honorary position - the one farthest from the door - at the low table. I struggled to find a comfortable position - I have never been able to kneel forward, sitting on my legs as is custom in Japan - but I managed to sit in a hybrid-cross-legged style that worked just fine.

January 19, 2008

Tokyo (JAPAN)

Konoe Treasures at the National Museum, Touring Ueno, and Wandering Ameyoko

Historically, Japanese culture was shaped separately amongst Japan's three powerful, yet markedly different classes: the aristocracy, the samurai, and the merchants. So, in a continued effort to better understand the culture surrounding me, Kumagai-san and I made a trip to Japan's National Museum in Ueno, which was hosting a special exhibition with never-before-seen treasures from one of Japan's noblest of families: the Konoe family. Coupled with an earlier visit to the Tokugawa exhibition, where I saw the kind of treasures valued by the samurai class, I am now 2/3 or the way done.

It is currently the dead of winter in Japan, so the trees that normally make Ueno one of the most pleasant parts of Tokyo today gave it a sense of ominous desolation. Coupled with the blistery winds that made my words come out in a slurred mess of confusion, I didn't feel like wasting any time as we hurried from Ueno station on through the park. Fortunately, we made an early start this morning, arriving at the museum just after its 9am opening, and once more I benefited from being a Tokyo Tech student with a massive discount. We wasted no time in heading straight for the special exhibition section of the museum, and what followed was a three hour history lesson provided by the hardly-famous yet fully deserving of world acclaim, Kumagai-sensei.

Since most people probably don't care to know all the details of the exhibition, I will summarize what I saw (pictures were prohibited): a collection of poems - both haiku (three 'lines' of 5-7-5 syllables) and waka (five 'lines' of 5-7-7-7-5) varieties, painted scrolls, important documents (eg letters from emperors), cha do sets ("the way of tea," or Japanese tea ceremony), intricate dolls and other toys for children, and finely embroidered cloths. All this did in fact stand out in stark contrast to the samurai swords and other symbols of power, which were so highly revered by the samurai class. A point worth making in regard to the Koneo family is how the family stayed powerful for well over a century, despite numerous changes in power: they made themselves the focal point of Japanese aristocratic culture, and by separating themselves from those vying for the "power positions" they were able to perpetually protect their position as (arguably) the most highly esteemed aristocratic family.

By the end of the visit I was exhausted, but I quietly endured more touring of the farther reaches of the museum so Kumagai-san could see a collection of Japanese paintings and women's wear - hardly captivating stuff. Afterward, we set off in search of lunch and ended up at one of Japan's oldest gai-jin restaurants, Seiyoken, which opened in 1876. (Afterward, I found an actual New York Times review of the restaurant.) We both ordered the specialty curry-rice dish along with an appetizer of fried clams and side salads. While the food was obviously tasty, the most memorable aspect of the restaurant was the view over Ueno Lake, which was to be our next destination.

With a map provided by the restaurant, we decided to make the most of our trip out to Ueno by embarking on a walking tour of the area. By this time in the afternoon the weather was slightly warmer, and the walk was more enjoyable than I was anticipating. The first shrine we visited was positioned in the middle of a lake, and with flocks of seagulls swarming as young children threw birdfeed there was a good atmosphere to the area. I performed the customary hand-cleansing ritual at a water stand near the shrine, and then climbed a set of steps to ring the large gong hanging overhead. Embarrassingly, when I tried pulling on the heavy rope (to hit the gong) it took the shape of a distorted noodle, and the small pings that ensued  were hardly inspiring.

Next, we continued on through the park in search of the famous Saigo Takamori bronze statue. While that name probably means nothing to most people, in fact he was the inspiration behind the hit-film The Last Samurai (featuring Tom Cruise) - Saigo Takamori was, quite literally, the true last samurai.

He is depicted to the left in fairly casual clothing, and although he remains Japan's most famous samurai, he doesn't exactly look like the kind of person who struck fear into the hearts of his enemies based on his physical appearance. Maybe it is just the dog that ruins it?

With Kumagai-san doing all the navigation, we set off in search of the famous Ameyoko market (full name: Ameya Yokocho), which is located underneath the Yamanote train tracks between Ueno and Okachimachi stations. Ameyoko was originally the place for buying black market goods following World War II, and it is even believed that Ameya came from the name America because so many illegal American products were available. Today, there are more standard items for sale: clothes, accessories, bags, various knick-knacks, souvenirs, spices, and both dried and fresh fish.

The fresh fish ended up being what caught Kumagai-san's attention, and she bought ankimo, which despite being angler fish liver is actually a good-tasting Japanese delicacy, or chinmi. The ankimo is shown in the central picture, below.

January 18, 2008

Yokohama (JAPAN)

Party at the Fujigaoka Dorms and Ping-Pong Dominance

I have a very good French friend in Tokyo named Julien, who despite being unequivocally  arrogant - a trait I grant him given his nationality - has recently been forced to eat his share of humble pie. More precisely, the title of Tokyo Tech Ping-Pong Grand Master has finally found its correct master: me. While it may have taken me the better part of four months to reach this point, I will by no means shy away from the prestigious honor of such a position. Should anyone wish to congratulate me, well, I suppose I could fit in the time to further acknowledge the significance of my achievement. But please recognize: I am a busy man.

Also worth celebrating were the four consecutive bets I won against Neil, an American friend who was suckered into believing he could hang with the-recently-crowned-but-never-to-be-relinquished Tokyo Tech Ping-Pong Grand Master (that would be myself, naturally.) Anyway, to cut a long story short, Neil ended up losing a significant amount of money to me, despite giving him 11 free points at the start of each match (playing to 21.) What did I gain from all this? Free train rides to and from a party at the Fujigaoka dormitory, which is actually in Yokohama, and ever more importantly free beer for the night!
For the record, I scored 21 points in the final game, compared to his measly three...

January 15, 2008

Tokyo (JAPAN)

Good to be Back in the Swing of Things

Although I flew back to Tokyo two nights ago, tonight is my first chance to sit down and take a second to catch my breath. Between adjusting to the time difference, catching up with friends, and dealing with the overwhelming madness for which Tokyo is famous, I can at the very least take solace knowing there is little to complain about in terms of where my time has been spent.

This morning I woke up at 4am (still adjusting to the 14 hour time difference), and by 7am I was out the door en route to the US Embassy in Asakasa (heart of Tokyo.) I needed to add pages to my passport, and with only a few weeks before vacation starts (and more travels), I wanted to make sure I had plenty of room for new visas.

Although pictures of the embassy were expressly forbidden - they even confiscated my camera at the entrance - I must pay tribute to the government for building such a commanding compound. I have long-since realized that America builds the biggest damn embassies on the planet, sort of like a stamp of authority, but the Tokyo embassy was particularly impressive. There were 10 or so armed guards outside, with countless more scattered on the grounds and in watch towers, and the main building (among dozens) was roughly 20 stories high. Perhaps it is overly prideful to admit to such a thing, but I felt a strong sense of belonging walking into the compound with the special treatment afforded to US citizens.

Rather than waiting for the normal 1-2 day "processing period," I talked the supervising manager into adding my passport pages on the spot so I could apply for a Chinese visa later in the morning. He was gracious in agreeing, and while I waited around I saw a host of other American citizens approach the counters with queries ranging from starting businesses in Tokyo to getting "baby passports" for newborns. It was strangely entertaining, and I am sure there are plenty of good stories floating around (if only walls could talk.)

Afterward, I continued on to Roppongi where I went to the top floor of the Chinese consulate to apply for my visa. The consulate was packed to the brim with people, and the queues quickly gave way to shoving matches. It took several hours, but my number was finally called and I dropped off my application for a 1-year, multiple entry visa to China. I will pick it up this Friday.

Rather than going directly to university, I met an American friend named David in Ebisu and we set off in search of one of the many great restaurants for which this district is renowned. We ended up at a traditional-looking counter-top restaurant and ordered the special of the day: egg yoke served atop white rice and pork. It may not sound all that tasty, but such things grow on you when you are in Japan, and I was more than happy to jump back into my old eating habits.

We both needed to reach Tokyo Tech after lunch, but we decided to save money and walk 30 minutes to Meguro Station. En route, we tried stopping at the Ebisu Beer Museum, but an unknown company wisely rented it out for the day and we were unable to "sample" the cheapest beer in Tokyo.

At Tokyo Tech, I spent an hour catching up with all the Japanese graduate students in my laboratory, and I passed out several bags of candy for them to enjoy (Twizzlers and Sour Patch Kids.) The look on their faces as their mouths puckered up at the taste of Sour Patch Kids was priceless, but unfortunately I did not have my camera at the ready. Conversely, I did have my camera out to capture the photo on the left, which immediately caught my attention. Although it may not come to you at first, if you sound out the spelling slowly it may dawn on you that this is not your average sign.

Grow up, I know.

January 13, 2008

Tokyo (JAPAN)

Back to the "Other Side of the World" in a 26 Hour Haul

Today actually started at 2:30am on 12 January when my alarm clock went off and I began packing my life back into a suitcase in preparation for my morning flight to Tokyo. By 4am my brother and Dad were climbing into the car with me, coffee at the ready, and we set off on the four hour drive from Savannah to Atlanta's Hartsfield International Airport. I was wide awake and full of anticipation ahead of my return to Tokyo, but in retrospect I feel bad for my Dad because I kept him talking for the entire ride. Nevertheless, it was tough parting ways with family, but thankfully I will not have to wait another 12 months before I see them again: my Dad will visit Tokyo next month, and my brother should make the trip out later this summer along with my mom.

My morning at the airport was uneventful; the only real incident of note was the $37 I spent on candy to be used as gifts for friends back in Japan. I was supposed to pick up several adult magazines as well (it is strange what some of my Japanese friends wanted), but I felt too awkward going to the busy counter with mothers behind me in line - candy will have to suffice.

I had a brief one hour layover in Detroit before I continued on the 13 hour flight to Narita airport. En route, I was desperate to know how the Patriots fared in their playoff game, and after asking a kind flight attendant on the plane she promised to get back to me. Sure enough, about an hour later she returned with word from the captain saying the Patriots handled the Jacksonville Jaguars, which puts them in the AFC Championship game next weekend. I was tempted to ask how Arsenal did in their match against Birmingham, but I figured there was no way anyone would be interested in an English soccer match. (It is just as well: they drew 1-1 in what sounded like a disappointing game.)

Upon arriving in Tokyo, I hustled through immigrations (again, I snuck in on a free 3-month tourist visa) and caught a local train to Shinagawa Station. From there, I didn't feel like walking with all my luggage so I sprung for a taxi to the house and avoided the cold that has sadly swept across Tokyo. Kumagai san was waiting for my arrival, and while she prepared the kind of tasty meal I love so much I began unpacking and showering. In all, it was 29 consecutive hours of travel - going from 4am on 12 January to 9pm on 13 January (I passed the international dateline near Hawaii). In truth, it is a small price to be to be back in a place like Tokyo.

January 10, 2007

Savannah (USA)

A Day of Emergency Flight Training

My father arranged for me to sit in on a day's worth of Emergency Flight Training today, so at 8 am this morning I attached my name tag, filled out a form, and settled myself down next to two Delta private jet pilots (ASA). Jay and Ed, despite being two and three times my age respectively, were the typical pilots in that they were full of jokes and had the world's shortest attention span. This hardly proved to be a problem for the day as our instructor, Mike, was the same way.

This kind of an atmosphere, along with endless Starbucks coffee, donuts, and assorted candy, made the morning lectures fly by. I even learned a thing or two about the science and realities of what can happen in the sky. Mike is as knowledgeable as any expert in the field of air safety, and he knows the details of every accident/near disaster for the past twenty years. Hearing his stories - often acquired after meeting with actual surviving pilots or flight attendants - more than made up for sitting through class on my supposed vacation.

After lunch the excitement really picked up as we practiced dealing with the many things that can go wrong while flying. For the disaster-simulations we joined three flight attendants and two military pilots from the Pakistani air force. I wanted to ask the two men a variety of questions about their past missions (they are from Lahore, which is in the heart of Kashmir), but their English was poor and it didn't feel right under the circumstances.

The first disaster simulation involved learning how to put out a fire in a plane, and experiencing the terrible blindness of a smoke-filled cabin. We all had to wear fire-resistant jumpsuits, along with with heavy-duty boots, a mask, and an oxygenated bag over our heads.

When my turn came to enter the cabin, I opened the door to find the entire cabin (shown above during the instructional period) filled with smoke. I screamed that (1) there was a fire in the cabin (notifying the pilots), and (2) that all passengers needed to take a seat immediately. Then, as I struggled to detach the clips holding the extinguisher to the wall - the smoke literally prevented me from seeing beyond my the protection of my hood - I continued screaming for the passengers to stay seated while I dealt with the situation. Naturally, when I brought the extinguisher toward the fire, both "passengers" were out of their seats and doing their best to get in my way. I forcefully pushed them into their seats, told them to stay put, and then did my thing with the extinguisher - holding it tightly between my legs, pulling the pin, aiming at the blazing fire at the front of the cabin. A 2-3 second spray was all it took, clearly demonstrating why extinguishers only need 15 seconds' worth of use per bottle.

Now that I was hot, sweaty, and smelling of smoke, we all went back inside and hit the large saltwater pool. Our next task was fairly straightforward: practice evacuating down an inflatable slide (shown to the right.) We were advised to sit down and go slowly to prevent slipping or back injury, but I couldn't resist the opportunity to take a running jump, thereby flying down the slide.

After more lectures on various scenarios and techniques, a life raft was brought out and we learned the tricks of climbing in and out (it is really a lot harder than one would imagine.)

Next, we climbed into the capsule shown to the right, which was to simulate a plane sinking after a crash. While the fire definitely had my heart beating the fastest, this simulation was probably the most troubling: while seated in the cabin, the plane underwent tremendous jarring before water began pouring in until it reached my waist. One of the flight attendants was put in charge of the test, and she immediately removed the emergency exit (shown vaguely to the right) and all the passengers proceeded to exit through the small opening - one leg, the torso, then the other leg. However, once outside the plane only half the job was done: there were torrential rain coming down along with a powerful wind. I pulled the rip cord on my life jacket, inflating it on the spot, and began swimming for the life raft in the middle of the pool. Once we were all inside, we pulled down the roofing and took various other measures to prepare ourselves (such as scooping out the water by creating a puddle in the middle of the raft by pushing down with our feet in unison).

The last stage of practice in the pool involved the actual rescue process. We took turns swimming out to the helicopter rescue devices and attaching ourselves as we were pulled out of the pool and onto a 10 meter high platform. It was the first time I have ever sat in one of those baskets everyone imagines in a helicopter rescue, but I also got to try a sling and a sort of retractable seat.

Overall, it was great training for dealing with disasters, but with plenty of flights still to come in my life I hope I will never need to use these techniques. Indeed, it was pointed out to me that commercial planes are made to fall apart upon impact, so unless the accident occurs on the ground, there is basically no chance of survival. This is all the more reason to invest in a private jet, if you ask me.