An Oddity... (with no photos yet).

The photos are coming, honest! I’ve been showing them to all and sundry, though, and I still haven’t had the chance to show my folks yet.

Although I do have some Engrish ones on my PC here…

My flight to Japan was taken via Kuala Lumpur, so it involved a fair layover in the airport… a layover that was long enough to be arduous and tedious, yet not long enough to allow me a visitor pass to even garner a gander at a view of KL.

Needless to say, even before I boarded the flight to Tokyo, I was over the idea of traveling. I was grumpy, tired and fed up. I vowed that anyone who asserted to me that getting to the destination is “half the fun” would receive from me:

1 x Suitcase full of heroin

1 x Boarding pass for a flight to Malaysia

1000 x Doggie treats for sniffer dogs.

I landed at Narita airport at 7.05am. By the time the plane taxied to the terminal, it was 7.30am.

Having come from a small town like Adelaide, the idea that a plane spent so much time just rolling along the tarmac gave me the idea that the pilot was goofing off, and had decided to cruise along the main street of town, trying to pick up chicks.

But no. He was taking a dead straight line to the terminal. Fucking huge airport.

It was 35 degrees celcius when I left Adelaide. It was 1 whopping degree in Tokyo. I nearly passed out when I stepped outside.

The first week over there, I was studying in a little berg of Tokyo called Noda. I would liken the place to the outskirts of any major metropolitan centre in the world; urban, but not THAT urban.

It was busy. Not THAT busy though. People had good income, but not THAT good.

It was kinda like the Sydney suburb of Blacktown, but without the inbreeding. And much more condensed.

Let me put it this way: I’ve seen bike lanes in Adelaide that are wider than some of the two-way streets in Noda. On one particular street, the only thing I saw that prevented cars from toppling down an embankment and into someone’s house was a big wad of crisp Tokyo “air”.

But enough about that crap.

The idea that a group of Japanese schoolgirls haul you up in the street (yes, it’s a cliché, I know) with a chorus of “Hello, how are you?” is amusing and cute after the first twenty times. However, when their English is as good as my Japanese, the conversation that goes, “Hello-how-are-you?america?iie?oh-osutoraria! Kangaroo-Koala!Awwww-bye-preased-to-meet-you!” gets old quick.

Well, not that quick. It’s still kinda cute.

But being a unique oddity in a place like Noda does have perks. People are extra patient with you, and the fact that you can say “how do you do?”, can explain to them who you are, where you’re from, how old you are, along with the whole “being 6 foot tall” thing does seem to get you some brownie points.

Good thing I’m not blonde. I reckon that would’ve ruptured some vessel in their right frontal lobe.

But the people are curious about you. Not in a “Do I feed the animals in this zoo?” kinda way, either. It’s more like they’ve stumbled across an odd looking forest creature, and they tilt their head this way and that as they grasp with the idea that something a little left of centre has wandered into their lives for a short time.

However… to the guy who asked me which way to Dior and LV when I was in Harajuku, I have this to ask of you:

“Do I look like a fucking local?”

Perhaps a lone westerner in Japan isn’t perceived as a tourist...

A new dawn, a new day...

Let me just sum up my feelings of Japan in the most concise way I know.

"Wow

"Fucking. Wow."

My affinity for the land of the Rising Sun has simply grown to proportions that not even I could've anticipated. However, I have also kept in mind that my affliction with Japan-itis could be borne of the idea that it is simply not the same as Australia, and that the unfamiliarity accentuates my fascination.

However, since returning to Australia I have:

Been abused by drivers for driving 25kph in a 25 kph zone.

Been abused by council workers for driving 30kph in a 25kph zone

Been told to not walk on a side walk because it was under repairs (for a hairline crack)

Been told of how good Australia is because we are "laid back"

That last one really amuses me. We are "laid back" according to all and sundry.

I have news for you Australia: You. Fucking. Aren't.

In Japan I freely rode a bicycle without helmet, bright colours or nigh on a hundred airbags... and I did just fine.

I walked on sidewalks that were in ill shape and were no wider than a dvd player, with cars passing mere feet away from my person, and I never even came close to being hurt.

I saw buses practically park in the street, and watched as all the cars queued up behind it patiently, with no honks or toots from their "warning devices".

Yet, back home I see constant signs everywhere of how powers that be are trying so fervently to protect ourselves from ourselves, and seemingly failing because of the same reason.

People shout abuse at each other for slight inconveniences, and news shows constantly show how not enough is being done to prevent something from something... or something else.

Yet, in another country where they give people the right to use their own judgement, they use it properly. In a country that on the outside appears that it simply shouldn't work, and its people should've become extinct for the lack of any safety precautions that prevent people from throwing themselves in front of trains ("There wasn't a sign to say I shouldn't do it, so I did it, your honour..."), Tokyo... seems to work... despite its best effort to not work...

I walked freely through Harajuku wearing the daggiest clothes I could find, and I didn't receive any looks of disdain, or subdued giggles of ridicule from fashionistas. Whereas in Australia, outrageous clothes are often worn for shock value... in Japan, it was worn in a "This is fun!" kinda way.

Ginza... well... imagine the snobbiest shopping district you can fathom. Ginza has that plus ten times the bug up its arse...

The people in Ginza were the real deal. And if they weren't the real deal, they were damn good at faking it... and if they're that good at faking it, I'm glad I'm not sleeping with any of them...

Look, I simply cannot sum up Japan (and tokyo) in a single post without it being long winded and contrived.

I will probably do this over a few posts, including the many photos I took.

But at the end of the day... I know that through and through... no matter which way you look at me... I'm still Australian.

Much like how no matter which way you cut a steak... it is still a hunk of dead animal.