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!
1 comment:
Yeah, the tongue thing threw me a little. If they had just served it to me, I never would have known what it was. I would have assumed it was "regular" beef.
More disturbing was that every time someone at the table would try to explain to me what we were eating (as if I wasn't already painfully aware), they would point to their own tongue.
(kmdtw)
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