I haven't really felt like writing this week, but I think that it's good for me to do so. Both because it helps me to process and record the things going on around me, and to keep everyone reading this updated on my life. So, today's is probably going to flow less well than other posts. as well as be generally less writing. Why am I suddenly so much more apathetic? I'm not sure yet, but I'm sure that I will find out soon enough.
Anyway, in case it hasn't become apparent from the last post, Japan has been having some snow. And not just any snow; major snow. So much snow, in fact, that friends over here are dubbing it the snow-pocalypse. And yes, I do realize that our snow is nothing compared to that which is still looming over many parts of the US, but it is unusual enough over here that few people are actually prepared for it. Why do I bring up snow after spending the entirety of last week on it? Because it came back. With a vengeance. How much of a vengeance? Not only did the entire shopping mall close early on Friday, but the owners decided that there was enough snow that Saturday was a spontaneous holiday. Not that things weren't hectic on our end. The snow was so bad on Saturday that many people couldn't go to work, and those who did were simply told to go to the most convenient location...relative to their own school. This meant that a lot of people went to different schools, taught new people in classes, and generally had a hectic day. However, people made it work as best they could, and I applaud my co-workers all over the Tokyo metropolitan area for going above and beyond on that day.
Unlike the previous snow, which was mostly gone in a couple of days, this one is sticking around. Trains are still delayed, accidents are happening, and in general people are going nuts. It's weather the likes of which this part of the world is completely surprised by. But, here's the thing: it's still rather consistent throughout the day. Things around dusk are generally the same as they were around dawn. So, it might be a mess, but it's a very controlled mess.
Now, moving on to more location-y things, in the past week I have visited two places: Asakusa [ah-sack-sah] and Kawagoe.
Asakusa is a very famous temple area of Tokyo. It also happens to be the perfect place to go if you want a more touristy brand of souvenir, some really nice kitchen ware, or realistic looking plastic food (warning: this means you might get a fish in the mail from me). We were toured around by the sister of one of my friends, who did a fantastic job. We all had a lot of fun, ate really good food, and learned a lot about Asakusa.
**insert pictures when my apathy departs, allowing me to care.
Afterwards, we went to an Okonomiyaki restaurant in Harujuku. To call this place back street would be absolutely true, and I'm not sure that I will be able to find it again. That will be a shame, considering how good their food is. As with the manjiyaki place that I went to in August, this restaurant had you order ingredients which you then made yourself. You then fry them up on the center grill and enjoy.
**A scientist or statistician somewhere should note that there appears to be an inverse correlation between the number of pictures on my blog and my general level of apathy. They would also note that my apathy tends to be directly correlated to how warm my apartment is.
Kawagoe is famous for being a good representation of pre-modernised Japan. It has a lot of wooden buildings well over a century old, with matching architecture of the time. We toured many temples, ate really good food in a traditional style restaurant, heard a famous sound of Japan, and walked through a really old house. That last one is not for the old or infirm, as the stairs are probably about 30cm (1 foot) long, a similar dimension in height, and about four inches wide. Had this been in America, we would have had to sign a waiver not to sue upon injury to visit this place. It was definitely worth the price of admission. What struck me was how comfortable the tatami mats were to walk on. My apartment is carpeted--a common trait in more modern buildings--so I don't really have much experience with tatami. I can safely say, though, that after wandering that house I can safely see why the futon persisted even after the bed was introduced to Japan. The floor was rather like a giant mattress to be honest.
The other thing that struck me was the ceiling. I am by no means a tall person by American standards, in fact I tend towards the smaller size of average (this reduces buying clothing to an aggravating experience that drives me up the wall and leaves me with serviceable things that don't really fit. And people wonder why I don't care about fashion). This house made me feel like a giant. It is no secret that the average Japanese height has trended upwards in the last century. This trend is clearly marked in society by the fact that younger adults tend to be a little bit taller than me, while really old people tend to max out at my shoulders. This was the first time that I have ever had to duck under a hanging light. I would guess that the ceiling was about six feet tall. And people actually lived here. This was not some recreation of days gone into oblivion, this was a still-standing structure that had been converted into a museum. True, I would have preferred something that had not been a tobacco shop in days gone by, but it was still interesting and rich in history.
**Some day soon, more pictures & less apathy, or the lesson that Hamlet should have learned before he died.
And that has been another adventure in the Austentatious. If you liked me, tell your friends; if you hated me, tell your enemies, and if you didn't care either way then tell everyone. Good night.
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