Shake Your Kabuki

Kabuki seems to be a little bit like opera in the US. There are people who are devotees and people who feel it’s a waste because they can nap at home for free. I had two free tickets to the Saturday night show at Kabuki-za, one of the most famous theaters in Japan and I actually had trouble finding someone to go with me. Yuki felt bad for me, and once I told her that the ticket included free dinner, she agreed to come along.

I didn’t know anything about Kabuki before I went to the show. So it was a big surprise that all the actors were men. It was one big drag show. And those girls were fierce.

It took me a few minutes to realize they were all men. If our seats hadn’t been so good, I might never have noticed. We were so close to the stage that I could almost see the female character’s beard growing.

The play was called “Hokaibo” and was performed in three acts. The theater provided an audio guide that wasn’t exactly a translation, more of an explanation of what was happening. One of the things that people enjoy about Kabuki is that the actors often ad-lib the dialogue and bits of stage business. Even though I couldn’t understand the jokes, the actors were great fun to watch.

Act I was all comedy: mistaken identity, misunderstandings, pratfalls, lustful priests, royals in disguise. Act II turned dark. There was still mistaken identity, misunderstandings, pratfalls, lustful priests, and royals in disguise but it sort of turned into Kabuki Psycho. After all the kidnappings and grisly murders, most of the cast had been killed off by the second intermission. But that’s the genius of Act III. They all come back as really pissed off spirits and do the pissed off spirit dance. Like any great Vegas finale, the costumes got bigger, the wigs taller, and there hire wire stunt right out of Kung Fu Hustle.

When we left the show, I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. But the more I think about it, the more I like it. It was one of the most theatrical experiences I’ve ever had. The Kabuki actors are like rock stars. When actor who played the lead role, made his entrance, the place went wild. There are some pictures attached that I had scanned from the program. He’s the one standing, looking deranged.

Fat is a Four-Letter Word

I have two blog entries fighting for dominance in my brain. One is about my experience at the Kabuki theater on Saturday night. The other is about how this girl said I was too fat.

The Kabuki experience definitely deserves an entry, and it will have one. But this girl said I was too fat.

Now, I know that in the range of fat I’m closer to Bridget Jones than, say, the mother from What’s Eating Gilbert Grape? I also know, I mean intellectually know, that in this day and age when there are people literally starving in Niger and other parts of the world, governments are being toppled, and the Iraqis are being subjected to their own version of Baghdad Idol, it is supremely ridiculous worry about such things.

But, this girl said I was too fat!

Growing up fat in America is a tough thing. That’s all I’ll say about that. Except that I hope that Matthew Wallace, who used to tease me in the schoolyard at recess by singing the Hungry, Hungry Hippos jingle, and was a big fat fattie himself, is living a life of constant constipation.

When I first got to Japan, a friend from America asked me if I was “suffering from a weird sense of body dysmorphia.” In fact, it’s hard not to. The average clothing size here is "00." That's double zero. Half of nothing. Or is it twice nothing? I usually feel like Santa with the elves.

It’s hard not to obsess over a comment like “you’re too fat.” It doesn’t matter what the context was, it doesn’t matter if it’s a “cultural thing” or if she’s just an insensitive bitch. What matters is that it happened three days ago and I’m still trying to think of things that I should have said to her instead of doing what I did which was hide in the bathroom.

Some Random Pictures

People eating meat on sticks under a bridge in Yurakucho.

The SONY Building, Ginza.

Ginza at night.

Harajuku corner: There was just so much going on here. And who told them "Glay" was a good name for a boy band?

The bag my prescription came in.

Just so you know.

Many places still have traditional Japanese toilets. Fortunately, they always offer a Western version, too.

Offerings at a shrine in Ueno Park. I guess the gods like candy and stuffed animals as much as we do.

I haven't been there, but I hear there's no "Grand Slam Breakfast." Why bother?

My favorite magazine.

Fancy dogs in Ueno Park. Note fancy shoes on fancy owner.

One of the girl's was wearing this very expensive T-shirt bought in a boutique in L.A. She had no idea what "Astra Zeneca" meant!

A sign in the bathroom at the Kabuki Theater showing how to use the "flushing sound" button.

Birthday!

Friday was a busy day (for once). The Neverending Pitch ended today. I think. Hard to tell. There was a powerpoint presentation and a lot of bowing. So, I think that was it. I’ll be writing about that whole experience in another post. I have a lot to say on that topic.

But, more importantly, Friday was my birthday! Woo hoo! I told everyone I was turning 25. Who were they to argue? Doug called in the middle of the day to wish my a Happy Birthday. Thanks, Dougie!

After work, a few of us went to To the Herbs, a restaurant in Roppongi. Miki and Yuki were the ringleaders, Gerald/Gerard, “The CFO” (Chief Fun Officer), and Aoba, another girl from the office, came along. Lots of red wine and pizza – good times.

After dinner Miki, the CFO, and I went back to Heartland to meet Shindy. Shindy had already cased the joint to make sure the Wildcat was not around. Just before midnight, Barry called and I was able to give him the fashion update. Every once in a while, I see some really stylish people in Tokyo, but usually, there’s a lot of fug. I’m talking open-toe shoes with sandals (and, yes, I’ve seen the models wearing bobby socks with their strappy shoes in this month’s Vogue and Lucky. Not everything translates from runway to subway); unfortunate pastels, and a lot of too-tight, “I can’t admit I’ve gained a few pounds since college” get-ups. At Heartland, there was a gal wearing a pale turquoise (think Gram’s Miami housecoat turquoise) dress with a smocked bodice and a midi-blouse type dickie. Of course, pantyhose with sandals. It was at least 90 degrees.

Speaking of fashion, has anyone else had nightmare’s about the GAP showing gauchos for Fall? What on earth is going on over there? The models don’t even look good.

But, I digress. Miki and the CFO left to catch the last train, but Shindy and I stayed for another beer. Afterwards, she dragged me to a club called “911” which should have been called “Tailhook.” It was so mobbed that I never even saw the bar. We found some space near the VIP room. I thought about trying to talk our way into the VIP room, but I caught a peek inside and it looked like trouble. All very drunk Japanese businessmen. No thanks! An Australian guy started chatting me up, but we were soon interrupted by his very loud, very angry Japanese girlfriend. Fearing that she might start swinging, Shindy and I left the bar. But not before we were both felt up by a very drunk guy in a wheelchair. Kids today!

Keep Those Cards and Letters Coming, Folks!

Thanks for all the birthday cards, emails, and calls! Here's a random sample of some of what you freaks are writing to me:

“Kisses and hugs and bday punches to our pal!! we miss you so much here, this
coast is weak without you!!!” –JM

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!! I didn't get
you a fancy gift, sorry. Well, for that matter, I didn'tget you anything but
this here email, which is very cheap of me. But I say happy birthday from the
heart.” –AW


"In honor of your birthday, I'm going to hide from [my
husband] and eat chocolate ice cream with mini nutter butters. He'll only know
of it by my future farts.” CF

“This is your birthday crew.
Everytime we take a drink, we are going to pour a sip of wine on the floor for
you. I will also be doing a series of Edith Piaf songs in your honor. In the key
of D.” -- BLM

Also, I got some great e-cards. I especially like the ones featuring "Hoops and Yoyo".

From my sister, Debi

Another one from Debi

From Sheri

From Carolyn

Typhoon: All Bark, No Bite

So, the typhoon fizzled, as far as Tokyo is concerned. In retrospect, I wasn’t too nervous about it. I think I (naively, I admit) thought, “it’s just a little rain…” Luckily, I wasn’t proven wrong this time. But typhoon season ain’t over yet.

The typhoon did threaten to put a dent in my birthday plans. A few of the people from work found out that my birthday is on Friday (8/26) and made plans to take me out to celebrate. We originally had plans for a cruise around Tokyo Bay, but we cancelled once we heard the weather forecast. By the time we realized the weather was going to be good, it was too late to go on the cruise.

More on that later.

Typhoon Mary

Egads. Why do the gods torture this land? There's a typhoon warning in effect. People don't seem to be too concerned.

But I ain't people!

Japan Brings Joy to Creative Team

During my time here I've found many wild and wacky snacks, most of which I've been afraid to try. So, I did what any science-minded gal would do, I packed up a selection and shipped it off to my friend Doug and the other creatives in his zoo. Here's his response:

What a pleasant surprise in the living hell that is my life this week to walk into my office after concepting with Ted to find a severely dented box on my desk with a heathen language on the sides. I was about to call Homeland Security when I realized that it was from you! You are nuts. But THANK YOU for such a splendiferous jumble of Japanese delights! The box had a giant dent (see pictures) but luckily nothing inside was damaged. I found it amusing that the Post Office didn't even TRY to undent it or pretend that they cared in any way. In any event, we have already pilfered. My personal favorite was the hard candies with little angry men on them. Entertaining and yummy to boot. I've also gone through most of the Thank You chocolates. Of course the pad is lovely. The asparagus biscuits are good, but asparagus is neither the flavor nor even in the ingredients. By the way, did you notice the credit line in English on the bottom of the package with the hot middle eastern dude? He must be a Bollywood star because it says MUTHU Kavithalayaa Productions in association with Eden Entertainment (see a review at http://www.rajinifans.com/Review/Muthu.asp). I've attached some pix of the package as it arrived and of us enjoying the booty (at least to the extent that I have been willing to share!). There's also a sketch that Ted made of me today that is quite fearsome.

Doug, looking angry and confused

A Career-Limiting Move?

On Tuesday, The Aussie held an all-staff meeting to present his plans for the future of the agency. I think a lot of the ideas were too abstract for this crowd. He kept saying things like: “we’ve got to get out of the neutral zone” and “We’ll become client-centric.” But, that said, even if some of the people didn’t understand the details, one thing is clear: big changes are afoot.

So, one could conclude that it would be a good idea to at least try to stay awake during the presentation.

Backtracking a bit: Even though the office is generally kept at a balmy 28 degrees Celsius (that’s 83 F), most of the women dress as though they are bundling up to milk the cows with Paw and Half-pint. They particularly feel that the “Presentation Room” is too cold. So, a few of them are in the habit of bringing a lap blanket and hot tea into meetings. Those of us who have ever been to market research know that this is a recipe for disaster. Cold room, dim lighting, warm drink... you get the idea.

But imagine now that you’re the Aussie, unveiling your grand plan to usher Japan into the 21st century. You’ve got powerpoint slides with clip art and builds; you have your laser pointer, you have the simultaneous translations going at full speed. And you look over to find one of your employees snuggled up with a woobie and a Curious George mug of steaming hot tea, snoring away. Actually, there were two of them, but one was sitting behind the Aussie, out of sight.

Translator Update

On Monday I hit the wall with this whole language barrier thing. I decided that I didn’t even want to write about it anymore because it was too ridiculous. But I emailed my NYC program coordinator to find out who would have to pay for the translation services if we were to hire someone. She’s looking into it on her end, but I also mentioned it to the Aussie. When I asked him how he was planning on dealing with the language barrier he basically said that he’s not planning on learning Japanese beyond tourist 101. He’s going to try to convert this office into a fully bilingual business. It will be interesting to say the least. The few ex-pats I’ve met so far over here have all agreed that it’s impossible to do business if you can’t speak Japanese. Time will tell.

But for now, he’s going to have someone available to translate and said he agreed that I should have someone too, or that we could at least share someone. When I got back from Kyoto today, he told me that he already started working on the translator for me and that we’d have a plan by Friday. Woo Hoo!

The Glamorous Life of a Blogger

I was playing with the settings on my camera. This is what I got.

An artist at work.

Publish or perish.

"You lookin' at me?"

Short Update

I'm in Kyoto tonight because I have a meeting with a "KOL" at Kyoto University. Unfortunately, due to dying laptop battery and no power cord, this will be a shortie.

Good news: I'm reasonably sure that I'll be getting a translator soon!

Bad news: I got put on the task force to redecorate the office. This will make me about as popular as Bobby Brady when he was the hall monitor at school. However, I do get to pick the color of the ergonomic wrist rests. SCORE!

More tomorrow on the following topics:
-Falling asleep at meetings: a career limiting move?
- Touring with the Supremes. The new Supremes.
-Office Beautiful: Or, what are we going to do with all this crap?
-The Neverending Pitch
-101 Tofu Recipes

TTFN. (Am I 15?)

World's Most Boring Blog Entry

Sunday

I definitely caught up on my sleep today. Very lazy day. So lazy, in fact, that I think I slept through another earthquake. Good for me. I heard about it on CNN.

Tonight, I did laundry and watched the tube. The Sound of Music was on. It's weird that I brought three DVDs from home (TSOM, Lost in Translation, and Bridget Jones' Diary) and so far TSOM and LIT have both been in constant rotation on tv here. What are the chances? Joanna recently sent me a few more: Arrested Development, Season 1 (genius, if you haven't seen it - run, don't walk, to Tower Records and buy the DVD); Napolean Dynamite (ditto, Gosh!) and When Harry Met Sally (a classic chick flick).

OK, this is dull. Not "Katie and Alex buy a crockpot" dull. But dull. I'll leave you with this:

Sometimes on the Star Channel, between movies, they play a short promo for a movie with a "hit song" playing under it. They set it up MTV style with the song title, movie title, and recording artist title. Tonight they played a promo for The Sound of Music with "My Favorite Things" as the song. They credited "Maria" as the recording artist.

That's all I got.

Hanabi

Saturday

I got into bed at about 5:30 AM, but I didn’t sleep long. I made it a lazy day and stayed close to home. I had made plans with Miki and the girls to go with them to another festival to see the Tamagawa Hanabi (fireworks) on Saturday night.

On the way to meet the gang, I finally saw the signs for the "women only" subway cars. Chikans everywhere are shaking their fists at the sky.

We met up with Gerald, the UK ex-pat from the gaijin party. The only problem is, his name isn’t Gerald. It’s Gerard. When I complained to Miki that I’d been calling him the wrong name she said, “It sounds right to me.” I blame it on the pesky R/L reversal in the Japanese language. There doesn’t seem to be any pattern to it, but sometimes they’ll say a word like “restaurant” and it will come out “lestaurant.” They can get one of the Rs but not the other.

Moving on.

The fireworks show started at 7:00 but we got there at 5 to secure a good spot. We were with a group called the Wish Club that throws monthly parties. The guy in charge is a total character named Mochi. He used to own a bar, but is now “semi-retired” and roams around Japan looking for the next good time. His dream is to buy an Airstream and set up a roving night club. I think that sounds like a cool idea, but I’m sure it’s illegal. (My camera battery was dying so, the only picture I have of Mochi, in a Santa suit, is nicked from the wish club website.)


We paid a flat fee of $20 for an “all you can eat/drink” deal. There was a member of the club who is leaving Japan, a “gaijin” named Rachel. She didn’t arrive until very late, so until then, everyone thought I was Rachel. I thought maybe there might be gifts, so I didn’t correct them.

The fireworks were so cool, very colorful. I tested out the “fireworks” setting on my camera. Not so great, but I guess fireworks are better remembered anyway.

After the show, a bunch of us went out to get some snacks. We went to a place that specialized in cow tongue. I was still feeling a little futsuka yoi, so the thought was nauseating. But, of course I had to try it. It was tasty. But I think it’s better sometimes not to know what you’re eating.

This time, I made the last train home!

Azabu Juban

Friday Night
No, that’s not the way to cast a magic spell, it’s a festival. It’s sort of like the San Gennaro festival in NYC, but more crowded. After work on Friday, I met Miki and we went to the Azubu Juban area. Since most of the foreign consulates are near this area, this festival features food from all over the world. Unfortunately, it was so mobbed that we would have had to wait in line for an hour to get any of the foreign food, so we settled for Japanese.
I had my first (and really, last) taste of okonomiyaki. It’s sort of like the greasiest omelet on the menu at Mel’s diner.
The base is made with flour, like a crepe, and it’s filled with soba noodles, cabbage, pickled radishes, pork, onions, etc. Then, they crack a few eggs into the mess, add some oil and throw it on the grill where they chop it up and fry it. When it’s good and cooked, they squeeze a big, fat layer of mayonnaise on top. Uh, yum? I ate a few bites to be a good sport, but I think it’s better left to the locals. Although, I would appreciate it later as a good base for all the drinking I was about to do.

Miki and I found a good spot curbside where we could watch the parade of freaks and families and get a partial view of the stage. On stage there was a sad, soulful singer and later a samba troupe. The samba girls were in full Showgirl regalia, but we were a little too far back in the crowd to get any good pictures.

But, I managed to get very close to ”The Destroyer.” What on earth a professional wrestler from the 80s was doing in Japan, I'll never know.


After the show, we met up with two of Miki’s friends, Shindy and Nao, and headed over to Roppongi Hills for a drink. Roppongi is home to a lot of the big international financial companies like Morgan Stanley and Goldman Sachs, so there are usually a lot of foreigners around. We went to a place called “Heartland” where the beers are cheap but the customers are not. We soon met up with a crew of foreign ex-pats who bought beers all around. One of the guys ended up being from Philadelphia and went to Villanova. Go Wildcats! After making sure I could get home on my own, Miki went home. Nao, Shindy, and I stayed on socializing with the Wildcat and some German TV news producers. Shindy is Korean. She speaks perfect Japanese and English, but nevertheless, a foreigner she be. So, when the Wildcat asked us if we wanted to go to another place for a couple of drinks and a great view of Tokyo, we said, “Issho ni ikimasu!” (Let’s go!)

Our first clue should have been when Nao refused to go with us, saying it was too far. The Wildcat said it was 10-15 minutes away. This, of course, was a lie. [Now, I must say this. If I was out with two girlfriends who were about to get into a cab with a stranger to destinations unknown, but known to be AN HOUR away, I would intervene. But that’s just me.] So, Shindy and I hopped into a cab with the Wildcat and started off to the lovely bayside town of Yokohama. If I’d had a map of Tokyo, I wouldn’t have been able to find Yokohama, because it’s not in Tokyo. It’s a whole ‘nother city.

When we got there, the Wildcat showed us where we could see “great views of Tokyo”: The Landmark Tower. It’s the tallest building in Japan and would have undoubtedly afforded the aforementioned great views. But, as it was 1:45 AM, it was closed and probably had been closed for hours. Shindy and I looked up at the building, looked around at the other, similarly closed building, then at each other and said, “What the hell are we doing here?”

The Wildcat was a harmless, allergic kind of guy, nerdy and awkward. He seemed to just want to be able to show off a little and take us on a walking tour of the waterfront. It was a nice night and we weren’t dead tired yet, so we humored him. It was really beautiful, much more so during the day I’m sure. We found the one place that was still open, Royal Host, kind of like IHOP. I had pancakes!

Finally, at 3:30AM, we told the Wildcat that we were ready to head back to civilization. He was bewildered. The trains start running at 5AM and he thought we’d just hang out until then. The cab ride was sure to be expensive. Shindy and I ignored him and hustled up to a hotel to ask the desk manager to get us a ride home. We left the Wildcat, clutching his briefcase and blowing his nose, and sped off toward the city.

Shindy and I split the cost of the $140 ride cab to her stop
and it was another $35 to get me back to my place. I got home just as the sun was coming up. One of my neighbors was out in front of his house doing tai-chi. My feet were swollen, my shoes were ruined, and my wallet was empty. But what price adventure?

The Aussie at Work

Friday

Friday was a great day at work. Not because I personally made any headway in my attempt to do relevant work at this job, but because I got to see the Aussie in action.

The morning was typical: There was a meeting. It was all in Japanese. The translation was probably inaccurate and definitely incomplete.

I did realize, though, that while I’ve been working away on what I thought was my big contribution to this project, the rest of the team has already completed the whole thing. Without me. Despite this, they still went through the motions of listening to me present my stuff, even though it was mainly a duplication of what they’ve already done. I said as much to the Pres. He just looked baffled.

As usual, I left the meeting with no idea what my next steps are, but with the promise of “I’ll explain later” from the Pres. Whatever. I need to move on to bigger and better things.

I was invited to join another meeting in the afternoon with the Aussie and about 15 other people. I was pleased to see that there was a woman providing simultaneous translation via wireless headsets, so at least I could understand what was going on. The Aussie barreled in, 30 minutes late, and said, “Right. What’d I miss?” Well, nothing, because the meeting couldn’t start without him. “Sorry. My diary has become completely useless. What’s this meeting about anyway?”

No one seemed to know. Something about a client we already have, or maybe a client we’d like to get, possibly expansion of existing business or something completely new. I couldn’t believe it. There were more than 15 people in the room and no one could tell him what the topic of the meeting was? Turns out, the Pres was delayed in getting to the meeting and he was the one who new. The Aussie just blinked a few times and said, “OK. Let’s talk about…” and just picked one of the probably 500 topics he knows are pressing. He was completely unfazed. When the Pres got there, we found out that we were in the right ballpark at least. But, after almost 2 hours of talking in circles around each other, in two languages, we concluded that we needed another meeting. With an agenda.

After the meeting, I ran into the translator in the ladies’ room. She told me that she’s been translating in the bigger meetings for the Aussie all week. Freelance, I asked? “No, I work for McCann in their TRANSLATIONS DEPARTMENT.” [For readers who don’t already know this. I work for McCann, too and never heard of any goddamned translations department.]

But the valuable thing I realized is that there is an opportunity for me actually get some new work experience through this whole company transition period. So, Monday, I start working on the Aussie. He needs to let me play in the sandbox.

Spam I Am

To my loyal commenters:

I've been getting spam comments on the blog, so I've enabled a "word verification" step. Sorry for the inconvenience, but I'm sick of getting my hopes up that someone has commented when it's really someone trying to sell me Viagra.

Keep commenting! And for extra fun, tell me what word they make you type in!

We Need More Cowbell

Look out Hillary, that Democratic nomination is not a done deal yet. Word on the street is that Christopher Walken, actor/creepy guy, is throwing his hat into the ring for President, 2008.

How great would it be to see the guy who freaked us out in The Deerhunter, The Dead Zone, and Wayne’s World 2 debating foreign policy with, really, anyone?

Alas, joy is fleeting. Turns out, it’s just an elaborate hoax.

Ah, Chris. Don’t worry. I, for one, will always want more cowbell.

Civil Disobedience

I'm sitting here watching CNNj's coverage of the Gaza situation. It's disturbing, but at the same time, a little bit like watching MTV Spring Break. The protesters are up on the roof of a synagogue trying to prevent the Israeli police from removing them physically from the place. They all look about 12 years old. And they have a seemingly endless supply of paintballs and watery blue slop that they are hurling at the cops.

Uh, oh. Now a bunch of cops are running out of the synagogue in their underwear. The watery blue stuff must have some kind of chemical in it. They are being doused with water.

OK, they look fine. (I mean, not fine, but not hurt. Get your minds out of the gutter.)

I'm an Idiot

I just watched the movie Dragon: The Bruce Lee Story.

The whole time I was thinking, Bruce Lee is kind of hot. But when did he get to be such a buffoon? I mean, look how cool he was in the 60s. Now he runs around like a jackass starring in movies with Chris Tucker.

Then, he dies at the end.

Idiot.

PS. Joyce, you don't have to say it. I'm offended for you.
PPS. Alisha, "Who the heck is Bruceli?"

Aussie Update

Tuesday night
Many of you have asked what's going on with the Aussie. He was supposed to start yesterday, but he never showed up. Turns out that he wasn't even in Japan yesterday. According to the gossip, which wasn't gossip, since I heard it from the Pres, he missed an important client meeting and didn't tell anyone that his schedule changed.

To be fair to our Aussie friend, there have been miscommunications about schedules before. So, I am witholding judgement on the matter.

He was here today, though, and we had an "update meeting" about a huge project that we've been working on. This project is one that I've been working on, but have been almost completely isolated from the rest of the team, so I have no idea what, if anything, I am really contributing. The meeting was very productive, which is a good sign, but once again some of the key team members were missing.

There was one awkward part where the Aussie was trying to explain a medical situation to the junior planner. I guess "colostomy bag" is one of those things that isn't on the vocab list in English for Busy People.

The Thing About Earthquakes

... is that they just start happening. Maybe someone in some meteorological lab somewhere has some little bit of a warning, but for us commonfolk, not so much.

My desk is right near the Pres' office and he called over to me, "Colleen-san, here is an earthquake!" The minute he said it, we all felt it. The building seemed to roll back and forth. There are some chrome wire shelves that were rattling and swaying, but nothing fell. It was sort of like being on one of the old Redbird subway cars in Manhattan.

As you know from earlier mental breakdowns, I'm not so good in the earthquakes, but it helped that I was in the office with lots of people. They all seemed relatively unfazed. Except the Pres, that is. He looked a little pale. At one point he said to me, "This is really big one, ne?" Afterward, I asked him what we're supposed to do in the case of an earthquake because, obviously, we all just sat there and looked at each other. He said, "Hm. Maybe we should make a plan for such a thing. It's difficult to decide what to do." Um. Yes. Good idea.

All in all, Tokyo got the least of it. The epicenter was about 200 miles north of Tokyo; there were injuries and some damage. The worst was the roof of a health club collapsed on top of an indoor pool. Scary.

The excitement never stops.

Movie Madness

Aside from BBC and CNN, the only channels that consistently have programming in English are the Star Channel and Star Channel Classic. Like most cable tv outlets, they occasionally have new(ish) movies like Troy and The Cell, but usually they are showing some sketchy Jeff Goldblum vehicle from the mid-80s or RoboCop 2. The classic station is almost always showing a western. I started flipping through the Japanese channels and came across one that was showing Little Women (1949) starring June Allyson, Margaret O'Brien, and Liz Taylor (as a blonde!). I'll tell you, it's a real weepie. I mean, does poor Beth have to die? After she got that beautiful piano?

Damn you, Louisa May.

Do-Do Ka-Ka

Sunday, August 14
I dragged myself out of bed on Sunday, cursing myself for agreeing to two-hour taiko drumming class. I was meeting Yuki and a few of her friends in Ryogoku at noon; they had been taking lessons for a couple of months. We got to the class just as the earlier session was ending. When I first heard the thump, thump, thump of the drum, drum, drum, I thought I’d be sick, sick, sick. But the drummers were so amazing and energetic, I was immediately caught up in their performance. Taiko drumming is rigorous; because the drums are so big, you have to throw your whole body into it. These people we drumming, hollering, throwing their sticks in the air. It was awesome.

The classroom is actually a mah johng parlor owned by the teacher’s brother so there was only room for 5 drums amidst the gaming tables. There were 6 beginners in the class, plus all the more experienced drummers stayed on for another lesson so we were split up into three groups. I was in the last group with Millie, a thoroughly miserable first-timer who looked like her mother had made her attend class as punishment for getting a tattoo. Yuki and her friends were in the second group together because they were all about the same level. I watched them as they drummed; they were concentrating so hard that the teacher kept making fun of how serious they all looked. He said, “drumming is fun!” The teacher was hilarious, full of piss and vinegar, and very possibly a saint.

When it was time for me to get up there, the teacher showed me how and where to stand so that I wouldn’t whack myself in the head with my sticks (apparently a common occurrence with beginners). We started hitting the drum and the teacher yelled, “Make a bigger noise! Hit it more!” I really got into it then. I confess that I imagined a few faces on the front of the drum and I smacked the hide off that thing.

Then he said, “Only two noises in taiko: do do and ka ka.” I stifled the urge to giggle. Do do, as it turns out, is the sound of the stick hitting the drum and ka ka is the sound of the stick hitting the rim. Just call me Beavis.

It wasn’t long before I was do do and ka ka-ing along with the rest of them. I was pounding away, channeling Sheila E, when the teacher stopped us and yelled, “Colleen-san!!! This is not dance party! This is Japanese style taiko!!” Then he imitated me on the drums, which was probably the funniest thing I saw all day. I said, “I’m just getting my groove on.” He said, “Sorry! We don’t get groove in Japan.”

Even though I wasn’t allowed to shake my thang, I have blisters on both hands, and my whole body aches, I still had such a great time.

After class, several of us went out for coffee and chatted for hours. Yuki’s friends from class are all foreigners (I’m beginning to think maybe she collects them) and we had a great time. We planned to meet again in two weeks for class and go out to lunch afterwards.