We went to Tachikawa on Monday because Obaachan had a doctor's appointment. Because Hitoshiojichan doesn't have a car, we had to catch the train. It's a cheap ride-- only ¥160 each way, but we had to walk to the station, which is about a 20 minute walk for poor Obaachan. She's a real trooper, though, walking the whole way, a cane in one hand and Hitoshiojichan steadying her other arm. I was amazed and saddened at the same time; she's so old and frail but can walk for hours, but at the same time it is sad that she has to walk at all. From Tachikawa station, we took a taxi to the hospital to save time walking there.
The hospital was a truly depressing place. It was as modern, clean, and friendly as a hospital could be, but there were so many extremely old people there that I couldn't help but think about my own future, and that of my parents and family. Old women wheeled their even older mothers around in wheelchairs; old men pulled their old wives around by their hands, shuffling as fast as their ancient limbs could carry them. I did not enjoy being there. At least they had complimentary tea in the main lobby.
When we left, we walked the whole way back to the station. About halfway, Obaachan needed to rest, so we stopped at WINS Tachikawa-- a horse race betting location. It was for the most part empty, so while she rested Mom and I strolled around and looked at the massive amounts of betting machines. We could only imagine how busy it must be while races are in session.
We stopped at a noodle shop right next to the WINS because it advertised extremely cheap udon and soba (its lowest bowl being ¥200). We figured that men who had lost a lot of money at the races would have to eat there, as it was extremely affordable. The food wasn't too bad, and it was run by a singular friendly and hard-working
cook. Mom seemed to enjoy the food very much as she could finally relax her stomach muscles with the knowledge that she wasn't spending an arm and a leg to eat. Suzukoobachan's exorbitant spending habits stressed her out quite a bit.
Hitoshiojichan wanted to show me some arcades and a department store on the way back to the train station. UFO catcher machines are filled with the puffiest, most adorable plush toys ever. I saw ones with bunnies, baby seals, chicks, guinea pigs, and capybaras. There were machines filled with boxes of fish-shaped bean paste-filled cookies, fake jewelry, and cat paw-shaped gloves. There were limitless types of game machines, and there was even a floor totally devoted to Vegas-style slots (or are Vegas slots Japanese-style?). I was of course taken by the cuteness of the giant cavy plushies and wouldn't have minded winning one. But alas, those sorts of games are not intended to produce winners.
We stopped by Bic Camera on the way out, since Hitoshiojichan had to pick something up. It was not unlike a Fry's and the floors I visited were full of personal electronics, computers, laptops, and computer components, along with office and art supplies, books and magazines, and random tacky crap to adorn cellphones. I also got to see the humping dog USB device for sale-- it's less than 10 bucks. I'm intrigued.
I had always snickered at the sleepy Japanese on trains and wondered how they could fall asleep so fast-- until it happened to me on the way back from Tachikawa. As soon as I sat down, my eyelids began to droop and I felt very sleepy, despite my discomfort at being in a very public place. My family had already passed out on the bench in front of me-- perhaps it was a natural reaction that their sleepiness should pass onto me. I did not sleep on that trip, but I could now empathize with the other people on the train.
We stopped by Ozam, a grocery store, on the way back home. It was about this time that I began feeling unwell. My throat was dry and a little sore, my head was hurting, and I was becoming very fatigued. I bought some Kagome purple juice and looked forward to drinking it when we got home.
We got back around 2:30, and after a glass of juice I promptly changed clothes and went to sleep. I definitely did not feel well, and I suspected that I was coming down with a cold or maybe the flu. Mom woke me up at dinner time. I had another glass of juice, ate dinner, took a shower, and went back to sleep.
I stayed in bed all day yesterday. Mom had wanted to go to Tokyo, but because I was not feeling well, we did not go. I felt quite pathetic, as Obaachan is 4 times my age, in frail health, and was able to walk around all the previous day without complaint; here I was, tired from a light cough, and staying in bed. Sad. But for what it's worth, if I'm not feeling well, perhaps it's better that I'm not around her anyway, lest I pass along whatever is making me ill.
I stayed in bed again today, but I am feeling considerably better. Mom went to the Base to pick up some groceries and bought me some orange juice while she was there. We may go to Tokyo tomorrow, provided that we wake up early enough to catch the express line. I'm looking forward to it.
I am going to get ready for bed now, a little later than usual, but I'm optimistic about tomorrow.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Catching Up-- Later.
I have craptons of catching up to do, since I have been hand-writing journal entries and I haven't gotten around to typing them up because, frankly, I haven't had the energy to do so. I'll post my regular daily logs later, but today I just want to share some oddity observations.
1. Putting a Japanese on a train is like putting a blanket over a budgie cage.
If riders don't have a friend, book, or cell phone to keep them distracted, then they totally pass out as soon as their butts hit the seat. On crowded trains, some people even nod off while standing up. It's really weird.
2. There are more vending machines per capita in Japan than anywhere else in the world.
This is not a joke-- this is a fact. And it's quite an apparent fact, as every block has at least one vending machine. Also, every beverage company stocks the machines with at least 15-20 unique choices, a third of them being some sort of coffee or tea. They also like convenience stores, and a konbini, as they are called, can be found every couple blocks or so.
3. Shoelaces are not en vogue.
Almost every single female I have seen wears some form of dress shoe or boot. Young men seem to like slip-on sneakers or dress shoes. Rarely have I seen shoelaces, and if I do see them, 1. the laces are fake and there may be a sneaky zipper on the side, or 2. the shoes are at least a size or two too large for the wearer. The important thing is that the show must be easily slipped on or off with little more than a tug. They take their slip-on shoe convenience seriously.
4. Neither, apparently, are sunglasses.
Mom explained that since their eyes are so dark, they aren't bothered by the light. The only people I have seen wearing sunglasses are advertisements with some serious-looking guy selling Boss Coffee, or kogal-looking girls with obnoxiously large and glittery sunglasses.
5. The more polite the woman is supposed to be, the higher pitched her voice gets.
Shop girls are especially annoying, as their voices reach frequencies only audible by dogs. It wouldn't be as irritating if it were just one at a time, but standing near the check-out counters of a grocery store subjects one to an entire chorus of squeaky ladies. It's like Office Space, just multiplied times 6 or 7.
6. Japanese television is freaking weird.
I watched a celebrity quiz show last night where the contestants would have to answer a variety of difficult history questions or solve logic puzzles. If they answered correctly, they'd be able to partake in some delicious-looking food. If they could not answer correctly, they'd have to sit and watch the others eat. And the commercials? Yeah.
7. Driving around Japan is freaking scary.
Everyone has these tiny, cute cars and they're sort of funny and adorable. But they're an absolute necessity-- Japanese roads are incredibly narrow and often have walls on either side. Unlike America, where there are specific lanes for turning onto intersecting streets and the norm is to wait for the car in front of you to turn, if there is no turn lane, in Japan if there is someone stopped in the road for whatever reason, everyone just veers around them if they have the room. Often they will swing into the opposing lane to get around the stopped car. This gets pretty scary if there is oncoming traffic, but people seem to be used to this as they're all ready to stop at a moment's notice. Then there are the added dimensions of pedestrians and bicycles that make this whole Japanese road thing insanely scary for me.
8. Wal-Mart has infiltrated Japan.
When shopping at the local Seiyu, a chain of department stores, I noticed that there were Mainstays brand housewares and Great Value brand food items. I also saw signs exclaiming the price rollbacks, and I thought "Huh. I wonder if Wal-Mart has stakes in this company." And it turns out that they totally do. It's pretty weird because you just don't expect that sort of thing outside America. It's kind of cool because they have good prices, but you have to really read the labels when you shop there because many of the products are made in China (as Mom found out when she bought some delicious-looking pickles that turned out to be totally gross).
9. People *really* like their dogs.
I've seen quite a few people walking their tiny dogs around town, but I was surprised to see that pet salons and pet sitters (amusingly, petto shitaa) are sort of a big thing here. It's hard to drive through a town and not see at least two or three cosmetic pet-related shops. I see mostly Dachshunds, Pembroke Welsh Corgis, Toy Poodles, Chihuahuas and Pugs here. Occasionally someone will be out walking their larger dog, like a Yellow Lab or something, but most people opt for the apartment-friendly tiny dogs.
10. They like to keep their streets free of litter-- except cigarette butts.
The streets are so incredibly clean here-- rare if ever will you find a can or wrapper sitting in a gutter. It's quite surprising, too, because there is a noticeable lack of trash cans. Mom said something about terrorists, but I think Japan has always been like that. The only thing I have noticed in abundance, though, are cigarette butts. The Japanese love to smoke, and it seems that their butts are the exception to the trash rule. While many people will politely carry their used butts with them until they get to a trash can, it seems that many more prefer to crunch them under their heel and walk away. It's pretty sad.
1. Putting a Japanese on a train is like putting a blanket over a budgie cage.
If riders don't have a friend, book, or cell phone to keep them distracted, then they totally pass out as soon as their butts hit the seat. On crowded trains, some people even nod off while standing up. It's really weird.
2. There are more vending machines per capita in Japan than anywhere else in the world.
This is not a joke-- this is a fact. And it's quite an apparent fact, as every block has at least one vending machine. Also, every beverage company stocks the machines with at least 15-20 unique choices, a third of them being some sort of coffee or tea. They also like convenience stores, and a konbini, as they are called, can be found every couple blocks or so.
3. Shoelaces are not en vogue.
Almost every single female I have seen wears some form of dress shoe or boot. Young men seem to like slip-on sneakers or dress shoes. Rarely have I seen shoelaces, and if I do see them, 1. the laces are fake and there may be a sneaky zipper on the side, or 2. the shoes are at least a size or two too large for the wearer. The important thing is that the show must be easily slipped on or off with little more than a tug. They take their slip-on shoe convenience seriously.
4. Neither, apparently, are sunglasses.
Mom explained that since their eyes are so dark, they aren't bothered by the light. The only people I have seen wearing sunglasses are advertisements with some serious-looking guy selling Boss Coffee, or kogal-looking girls with obnoxiously large and glittery sunglasses.
5. The more polite the woman is supposed to be, the higher pitched her voice gets.
Shop girls are especially annoying, as their voices reach frequencies only audible by dogs. It wouldn't be as irritating if it were just one at a time, but standing near the check-out counters of a grocery store subjects one to an entire chorus of squeaky ladies. It's like Office Space, just multiplied times 6 or 7.
6. Japanese television is freaking weird.
I watched a celebrity quiz show last night where the contestants would have to answer a variety of difficult history questions or solve logic puzzles. If they answered correctly, they'd be able to partake in some delicious-looking food. If they could not answer correctly, they'd have to sit and watch the others eat. And the commercials? Yeah.
7. Driving around Japan is freaking scary.
Everyone has these tiny, cute cars and they're sort of funny and adorable. But they're an absolute necessity-- Japanese roads are incredibly narrow and often have walls on either side. Unlike America, where there are specific lanes for turning onto intersecting streets and the norm is to wait for the car in front of you to turn, if there is no turn lane, in Japan if there is someone stopped in the road for whatever reason, everyone just veers around them if they have the room. Often they will swing into the opposing lane to get around the stopped car. This gets pretty scary if there is oncoming traffic, but people seem to be used to this as they're all ready to stop at a moment's notice. Then there are the added dimensions of pedestrians and bicycles that make this whole Japanese road thing insanely scary for me.
8. Wal-Mart has infiltrated Japan.
When shopping at the local Seiyu, a chain of department stores, I noticed that there were Mainstays brand housewares and Great Value brand food items. I also saw signs exclaiming the price rollbacks, and I thought "Huh. I wonder if Wal-Mart has stakes in this company." And it turns out that they totally do. It's pretty weird because you just don't expect that sort of thing outside America. It's kind of cool because they have good prices, but you have to really read the labels when you shop there because many of the products are made in China (as Mom found out when she bought some delicious-looking pickles that turned out to be totally gross).
9. People *really* like their dogs.
I've seen quite a few people walking their tiny dogs around town, but I was surprised to see that pet salons and pet sitters (amusingly, petto shitaa) are sort of a big thing here. It's hard to drive through a town and not see at least two or three cosmetic pet-related shops. I see mostly Dachshunds, Pembroke Welsh Corgis, Toy Poodles, Chihuahuas and Pugs here. Occasionally someone will be out walking their larger dog, like a Yellow Lab or something, but most people opt for the apartment-friendly tiny dogs.
10. They like to keep their streets free of litter-- except cigarette butts.
The streets are so incredibly clean here-- rare if ever will you find a can or wrapper sitting in a gutter. It's quite surprising, too, because there is a noticeable lack of trash cans. Mom said something about terrorists, but I think Japan has always been like that. The only thing I have noticed in abundance, though, are cigarette butts. The Japanese love to smoke, and it seems that their butts are the exception to the trash rule. While many people will politely carry their used butts with them until they get to a trash can, it seems that many more prefer to crunch them under their heel and walk away. It's pretty sad.
Sunday, October 7, 2007
Train Stations and Hot Pots
It feels as if I keep waking up earlier and earlier. Suzukoobachan made a delicious breakfast this morning of gohan, miso, natto, and some veggies left over from last night's dinner. This is the sort of breakfast I like to eat, and if I had the time to make and eat it every morning I would probably do so. Mom didn't want me to be bored at Obaachan's house, so she instead sent me off with Suzukoobachan for the day.
We went to Tachikawa Station and went shopping at the mall there. On the way, we talked about the differences between the Kanto and Kansai ways of speaking. I tried to convey the differences between English, Australian, and American English. We also compared onomatopoeias-- like, wan wan/woof, nyao/meow, kerokerokeropi/ribbit etc. She also explained that Japanese have difficulty speaking English because of the limited number of sounds they can make, and that although she took a couple classes, she never was able to pick it up. She assumed that Chinese people were able to speak English better, but I told her that they have their own set of problems and many Chinese were still difficult to understand.
When we reached the shopping area, we first stopped for lunch and got hegi soba, which is buckwheat noodles flavored with seaweed. Served alongside were shrimp and vegetable tempura, and at the end of the meal they brought out the water that was used to boil the noodles so it could be mixed with the dipping sauce and used as a soup. Suzukoobachan said they did that because the noodles had a lot of nutrients, and as such so did the water.
Japanese fashion is sort of weird. It obviously takes most of its influence from Europe, and not America as I did not see anyone who looked comfortable in what they were wearing. Every single person in the mall had some degree of fashion consciousness, and sometimes painfully so. An odd trend I've noticed amongst girls here is very short, cuffed shorts, paired with thigh-high lacy stockings and high heels. Boys prefer to squeeze into skinny jeans. Everyone has immaculate hair. Nobody wears sneakers (at least not ones with laces).
After poking around exorbitantly expensive stores for a little while, we hit up a cafe and grabbed some coffee and cake. She called her husband after that, and we agreed to meet him at the grocery department. The grocery department was very interesting, as it was slightly reminiscent of an old timey bazaar while maintaining the guise of an ultra-modern supermarket. Old men walked around the fruits and vegetables, shouting rasshai, rasshai! and announcing the virtues of their products. The fishmongers were the same (although I guess they weren't exactly fishmongers, but they sure acted like them). There was a lady on front of the pickles who also invited customers to come try them, and would pack and price a box for you once you made your decision.
After Kawasakisan came to meet us, we started heading back to Fussa. On the way, they called Mom and asked what she was doing for dinner. She said that they were making oden, and that Suzukoobachan should drop me off in Fussa to eat with them. The oden, which is a hot pot full of fried tofu, fish cakes, yam jelly blocks, konbu, and mochi in fried tofu bags, was delicious. I was still somewhat full from coffee and cake, yet Mom kept putting stuff on my plate. I was thoroughly stuffed by the end of dinner.
Again, running around all day has made me tired, so I will try to sleep somewhat early tonight.
We went to Tachikawa Station and went shopping at the mall there. On the way, we talked about the differences between the Kanto and Kansai ways of speaking. I tried to convey the differences between English, Australian, and American English. We also compared onomatopoeias-- like, wan wan/woof, nyao/meow, kerokerokeropi/ribbit etc. She also explained that Japanese have difficulty speaking English because of the limited number of sounds they can make, and that although she took a couple classes, she never was able to pick it up. She assumed that Chinese people were able to speak English better, but I told her that they have their own set of problems and many Chinese were still difficult to understand.
When we reached the shopping area, we first stopped for lunch and got hegi soba, which is buckwheat noodles flavored with seaweed. Served alongside were shrimp and vegetable tempura, and at the end of the meal they brought out the water that was used to boil the noodles so it could be mixed with the dipping sauce and used as a soup. Suzukoobachan said they did that because the noodles had a lot of nutrients, and as such so did the water.
Japanese fashion is sort of weird. It obviously takes most of its influence from Europe, and not America as I did not see anyone who looked comfortable in what they were wearing. Every single person in the mall had some degree of fashion consciousness, and sometimes painfully so. An odd trend I've noticed amongst girls here is very short, cuffed shorts, paired with thigh-high lacy stockings and high heels. Boys prefer to squeeze into skinny jeans. Everyone has immaculate hair. Nobody wears sneakers (at least not ones with laces).
After poking around exorbitantly expensive stores for a little while, we hit up a cafe and grabbed some coffee and cake. She called her husband after that, and we agreed to meet him at the grocery department. The grocery department was very interesting, as it was slightly reminiscent of an old timey bazaar while maintaining the guise of an ultra-modern supermarket. Old men walked around the fruits and vegetables, shouting rasshai, rasshai! and announcing the virtues of their products. The fishmongers were the same (although I guess they weren't exactly fishmongers, but they sure acted like them). There was a lady on front of the pickles who also invited customers to come try them, and would pack and price a box for you once you made your decision.
After Kawasakisan came to meet us, we started heading back to Fussa. On the way, they called Mom and asked what she was doing for dinner. She said that they were making oden, and that Suzukoobachan should drop me off in Fussa to eat with them. The oden, which is a hot pot full of fried tofu, fish cakes, yam jelly blocks, konbu, and mochi in fried tofu bags, was delicious. I was still somewhat full from coffee and cake, yet Mom kept putting stuff on my plate. I was thoroughly stuffed by the end of dinner.
Again, running around all day has made me tired, so I will try to sleep somewhat early tonight.
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Travesty! Where is the rice?
We woke up around 8am and had toast for breakfast again. The morning was rather slow and uneventful. Suzukoobachan chatted with Mom for a couple hours before she dropped us off at Obaachan's. Mom and Hitoshiojichan set out to fetch lunch on his motorcycle, which she informed me was surprisingly not scary.
While Mom and Hitoshiojichan were out getting lunch, I showed Obaachan pictures on my laptop and again had to go through my broken Japanese phrases and pantomimes. She had a lot to say about the pictures, but unfortunately I could understand very little.
They brought back katsudon, which was pretty good, except it did not come with rice. This caused a little bit of consternation and amused bewilderment amongst Mom and the rest. "Where is the rice? It didn't come with rice? What kind of place sells katsudon without rice?" Hitoshiojichan brought out some tiny grapes that were about half a month too old and shriveled. They ended up being the most delicious grapes I have ever eaten-- they tasted sweeter than candy and had a pleasant gummy texture. Unfortunately, we were informed that they are now out of season.
The afternoon was spent chatting over tea and riceless katsudon leftovers. Suzukoobachan came at 5:30 to pick us up. She cooked a delicious dinner of pork fried with ginger, miso soup, shredded daikon, and gobo with carrots. Some figure skating competition was on, and it seemed the Japanese girls kept falling on their butts. It was pretty sad to watch, as one of the previous Olympic skaters totally wiped out just a few bars into her routine. After that point every time a skater went to jump we'd hold our breath just a little bit.
Again, I was exhausted today so I am going to crash pretty early.
While Mom and Hitoshiojichan were out getting lunch, I showed Obaachan pictures on my laptop and again had to go through my broken Japanese phrases and pantomimes. She had a lot to say about the pictures, but unfortunately I could understand very little.
They brought back katsudon, which was pretty good, except it did not come with rice. This caused a little bit of consternation and amused bewilderment amongst Mom and the rest. "Where is the rice? It didn't come with rice? What kind of place sells katsudon without rice?" Hitoshiojichan brought out some tiny grapes that were about half a month too old and shriveled. They ended up being the most delicious grapes I have ever eaten-- they tasted sweeter than candy and had a pleasant gummy texture. Unfortunately, we were informed that they are now out of season.
The afternoon was spent chatting over tea and riceless katsudon leftovers. Suzukoobachan came at 5:30 to pick us up. She cooked a delicious dinner of pork fried with ginger, miso soup, shredded daikon, and gobo with carrots. Some figure skating competition was on, and it seemed the Japanese girls kept falling on their butts. It was pretty sad to watch, as one of the previous Olympic skaters totally wiped out just a few bars into her routine. After that point every time a skater went to jump we'd hold our breath just a little bit.
Again, I was exhausted today so I am going to crash pretty early.
Friday, October 5, 2007
Hospital Hijinks & Extreme Jetlaggery
The night before, my mom asked me to set an alarm for 9:00, since we were going to sleep around 2:30 and figured that would be plenty of time. Mom woke up at 8, though, and essentially woke me up, too. At the time I felt refreshed and awake.
I told my mother that I wanted to have bread and milk in Japan because my childhood memories told me that they were delicious. The previous night, Suzukoobachan bought some at the store, and she suggested that I have toast for breakfast since she had butter, jam, and peanut butter. I agreed, and she made the toast in an interesting way. She says that she hates the way bread tastes from a toaster (which is in the microwave, of all places), so she put a little water into a broiler pan and out the bread into the broiler. Two minutes and a flip later, I had toast!
I was not at all disappointed by the bread and milk. The bread, although it was toasted, tasted exactly how I remembered it-- thick, soft, and slightly chewy with a sweet taste. The butter was smooth and delicious, and the strawberry honey jam also tasted nice. What I loved, though, was the peanut butter. I normally buy natural, unsweetened peanut butter because I dislike the regular peanut butters that add tons of sugar and despite that still don't taste sweet. This stuff, though, was delicious. Very sweet, but in a mild way-- not harsh or sugary. All that with two glasses of milk and I was just happy as could be.
We drove to the hospital to pick up Obaachan. Suzukoobachan parked the car in the front of the hospital and ran in to get her while my mom and I waited-- and we found out that we were parked in front of the ER because not even 2 minutes after my aunt ducked into the building an ambulance came up, lights flashing and sirens blaring, and we were blocking its way. Panic set in, and my mom told me to move the car. I panicked, as well, so when I put it into drive, stepped on the gas and found it didn't move, I told her that I must be doing something wrong. All the while, the ambulance ended up parking on the street and wheeling in an obaasan lady on a stretcher into the ER. I guess we were super lucky that this is Japan because nobody got mad or anything; they did their jobs, asked us to please try to move the car if we could, and that was that. It turns out that I wasn't applying enough force to the accelerator the first time-- I was sort of gingerly tapping it because we were parked less than five feet away from the ER doors I figured it'd be bad form to plow my aunt's car through the hospital on my first day in Japan. If this had been the US I have a feeling that some fines or even jail time would have resulted.
A minute after the hubbub ended, Suzukoobachan appeared with my very tiny Obaachan on her arm.
Obaachan and Hitoshiojichan's apartment has changed so little from what I remember 18 years ago. It's really spooky. The only difference is that Obaachan is not able to move around too much on her own, so she has to sit most of the time. She is as stubborn as my mother, though-- when she wants to get up and go to the bathroom or the kitchen, she refuses our help when we rush to steady her arm or open doors for her. "Daijoubu, daijoubu!" she insists as she shuffles around.
She is so very old and obviously frail, but she is still talkative and energetic. She has a tiny old lady voice and small, graying eyes that sparkle when she laughs. When she is emphatic about a point she squeezes her eyes shut and nods her head sharply, the inflection in her voice confirming its importance. Her tiny hands, while weakened with age and arthritis, are still fairly deft, although she does spill a little tea when she pours it.
When we arrived at Hitoshiojichan's house (who wasn't home at the time), my mom and Suzukoobachan left almost immediately to grab some lunch. I was left alone with Obaachan, so I took the opportunity to show her some photographs I brought along with me from high school. My Japanese is pretty broken, so I was limited to saying things like "This is my Hawaiian friend" or "Annie-- middle school." I had some photos with sticky notes on the back from a Japanese presentation I did when I was in college, and Obaachan told me that my Japanese handwriting was very good (she did not comment whether or not she understood what I was aiming to say, though, haha).
Lunch was good. Mom and Suzukoobachan bought supermarket sushi and osekihan-- mochi rice with azuki beans, which is made as a festive dish on special occasions. Suzukoobachan ducked out after lunch to run some errands. The next few hours were a little boring for me because mom and Obaachan chatted the whole time and I was left with little to do than watch TV. Hitoshiojichan returned after a little while and brought out old photographs from the last time we visited.
Suzukoobachan picked Mom and me up around 5 and we went back to her house. I was very tired, so I passed out on the study floor. Every 15 minutes or so someone would come in, turn on the light, and ask if I was doing okay. It was sort of annoying because all I wanted to do was take a nap without interruptions, but word did not spread around that that was my intention. At 6:30 we went to a fairly upscale Chinese restaurant in a nice hotel for dinner. The prices were rather steep for the food they served, but at least it tasted alright.
I feel so dehydrated here. In America I'm used to drinking at least a glass or two of water with every meal. Here, they only serve tiny cups of tea and, in the rare occasion that they do serve water, it is in equally tiny glasses. This has probably made my jetlag even worse than it would be normally; after my shower I am going to crash.
I told my mother that I wanted to have bread and milk in Japan because my childhood memories told me that they were delicious. The previous night, Suzukoobachan bought some at the store, and she suggested that I have toast for breakfast since she had butter, jam, and peanut butter. I agreed, and she made the toast in an interesting way. She says that she hates the way bread tastes from a toaster (which is in the microwave, of all places), so she put a little water into a broiler pan and out the bread into the broiler. Two minutes and a flip later, I had toast!
I was not at all disappointed by the bread and milk. The bread, although it was toasted, tasted exactly how I remembered it-- thick, soft, and slightly chewy with a sweet taste. The butter was smooth and delicious, and the strawberry honey jam also tasted nice. What I loved, though, was the peanut butter. I normally buy natural, unsweetened peanut butter because I dislike the regular peanut butters that add tons of sugar and despite that still don't taste sweet. This stuff, though, was delicious. Very sweet, but in a mild way-- not harsh or sugary. All that with two glasses of milk and I was just happy as could be.
We drove to the hospital to pick up Obaachan. Suzukoobachan parked the car in the front of the hospital and ran in to get her while my mom and I waited-- and we found out that we were parked in front of the ER because not even 2 minutes after my aunt ducked into the building an ambulance came up, lights flashing and sirens blaring, and we were blocking its way. Panic set in, and my mom told me to move the car. I panicked, as well, so when I put it into drive, stepped on the gas and found it didn't move, I told her that I must be doing something wrong. All the while, the ambulance ended up parking on the street and wheeling in an obaasan lady on a stretcher into the ER. I guess we were super lucky that this is Japan because nobody got mad or anything; they did their jobs, asked us to please try to move the car if we could, and that was that. It turns out that I wasn't applying enough force to the accelerator the first time-- I was sort of gingerly tapping it because we were parked less than five feet away from the ER doors I figured it'd be bad form to plow my aunt's car through the hospital on my first day in Japan. If this had been the US I have a feeling that some fines or even jail time would have resulted.
A minute after the hubbub ended, Suzukoobachan appeared with my very tiny Obaachan on her arm.
Obaachan and Hitoshiojichan's apartment has changed so little from what I remember 18 years ago. It's really spooky. The only difference is that Obaachan is not able to move around too much on her own, so she has to sit most of the time. She is as stubborn as my mother, though-- when she wants to get up and go to the bathroom or the kitchen, she refuses our help when we rush to steady her arm or open doors for her. "Daijoubu, daijoubu!" she insists as she shuffles around.
She is so very old and obviously frail, but she is still talkative and energetic. She has a tiny old lady voice and small, graying eyes that sparkle when she laughs. When she is emphatic about a point she squeezes her eyes shut and nods her head sharply, the inflection in her voice confirming its importance. Her tiny hands, while weakened with age and arthritis, are still fairly deft, although she does spill a little tea when she pours it.
When we arrived at Hitoshiojichan's house (who wasn't home at the time), my mom and Suzukoobachan left almost immediately to grab some lunch. I was left alone with Obaachan, so I took the opportunity to show her some photographs I brought along with me from high school. My Japanese is pretty broken, so I was limited to saying things like "This is my Hawaiian friend" or "Annie-- middle school." I had some photos with sticky notes on the back from a Japanese presentation I did when I was in college, and Obaachan told me that my Japanese handwriting was very good (she did not comment whether or not she understood what I was aiming to say, though, haha).
Lunch was good. Mom and Suzukoobachan bought supermarket sushi and osekihan-- mochi rice with azuki beans, which is made as a festive dish on special occasions. Suzukoobachan ducked out after lunch to run some errands. The next few hours were a little boring for me because mom and Obaachan chatted the whole time and I was left with little to do than watch TV. Hitoshiojichan returned after a little while and brought out old photographs from the last time we visited.
Suzukoobachan picked Mom and me up around 5 and we went back to her house. I was very tired, so I passed out on the study floor. Every 15 minutes or so someone would come in, turn on the light, and ask if I was doing okay. It was sort of annoying because all I wanted to do was take a nap without interruptions, but word did not spread around that that was my intention. At 6:30 we went to a fairly upscale Chinese restaurant in a nice hotel for dinner. The prices were rather steep for the food they served, but at least it tasted alright.
I feel so dehydrated here. In America I'm used to drinking at least a glass or two of water with every meal. Here, they only serve tiny cups of tea and, in the rare occasion that they do serve water, it is in equally tiny glasses. This has probably made my jetlag even worse than it would be normally; after my shower I am going to crash.
Thursday, October 4, 2007
18 Hours of Daylight
Our plane boarded half an hour later than scheduled because the in-seat movie screens weren't working in the center 5 aisles. I guess 13 hours with nothing to look at except the headrest in front of you can be boring. I took advantage of the neat little setup and ended up watching some Without a Trace (during which I fell asleep), Shrek the Third, Everybody Hates Chris, a neat movie about the life of Vivien Thomas (starring Mos Def and Alan Rickman-- LOVE), and a depressing movie about a couple in which the wife comes down the Alzheimer's. I got halfway through Ocean's 13 when we went into final approach.
We were fed a snack half an hour into the flight, which was the normal soda and a bag of crunchy things. Lunch was around 12:30, and we got a choice between chicken or pork swimming in stir-fryish gravy alongside some sad green beans and rice. I honestly have had better Lean Cuisine. Served with it were a piece of what looked to be a cucumber roll and shrimp sushi, salad with creamy vinaigrette, and a conspicuously out of place dinner roll with margarine.
Soon after lunch, I curled up into my seat, put on some Without a Trace (his fake American accent fools nobody-- he is so obviously Australian), and fell asleep for the next three hours. At some point, the male steward reached over me and closed my window, which was a good move because the sun was high and bright for the whole trip.
When I came to, I felt strangely refreshed. I peeked out the window, and to my surprise I saw lots of snowy mountains. Knowing that we had to be long past Colorado, I loaded up the flight path. While I waited for it, I looked out the window, and noticed these huge, long, striped white trails that bisected the mountains and emptied into a wated body to the south. I had taken a physical geography class, so I immediately became excited.
GLACIERS! THOSE ARE FREAKING GLACIERS! :D :D :D :D
You hear about how large they are and you see pictures of them in books, but it's difficult to appreciate glaciers until you actually see them with your own eyes. And when Anchorage came along about an hour later, I had something to compare give a sense of scale-- they are GIGANTIC. It's amazing how big they are, and it's difficult to imagine 1. that they even formed at all, and 2. that they might be under threat of melting. That's pretty depressing to think about.
According to the flight path, they were the Bering Glaciers.
Around this time we got a little ham sandwich to tide us over until the next meal. There was nothing special about it, but it wasn't half bad tasting. About a two hours before landing we got pizza with a nice pastry-like crust.
At 2:15, we landed in Narita International Airport.
My mother told me horror stories about the lengthy line in which I would have to stand waiting to get through customs; this did not happen at all-- it took all of 2 minutes after retrieving my bags to turn in my cards and wait for my mother in the terminal.
Unfortunately, I had not studied the map of the terminal well before departure, nor did I feel adventurous enough to explore it throroughly because where I thought I was supposed to meet my mother ended up not being the place where I was supposed to meet my mother. Her flight arrived the same time that mine did, as hers was also delayed (our initial flights were supposed to get in simultaneously, too), and she and I waited in the terminal for each other for about an hour and a half. She was incredibly understanding, as she said that she asked many many airport workers where areas designated by the airport to meeting were, and they had no clue.
From there, we caught a Keisei train from Narita to Yawata. This was all fine and good, except they don't have escalators to get to and from the platforms. My mom is a persistent and strong-willed person, so when I told her I'd carry her bags for her she just snorted and hauled her stuff on her own. She broke her leg during the summer and I didn't want her to injure herself before her visit to Japan even began, so I would run my stuff up or down the stairs, set them down, run back to meet my mom, grab her stuff, and take it to where my stuff was. Luckily there weren't very many people to worry about snagging my things. I haven't exercised in a long hot while, so in the end I was pretty tired, especially considering I had to do this numerous times.
Anyhow, from Yawata we took a Tooei Shinjuku train to Shinjuku station. Yawata is the very end of the line, so our train was empty when we boarded and spilling over with people by the time we disembarked. Shinjuku, minatomachi indeed. The station was PACKED. Granted, we get there about 6:15, but still-- it was a buzzing sea of black-haired heads bobbing around. Quite confusing. I was lucky that my mom was wearing a somewhat uniquely colored shirt because otherwise, I would have lost her.
We spent a little while in Shinjuku Station first looking for a bathroom, and then trying to figure out how to use the pay phones. Since my mom didn't want to chuck 100 yen into the thing, use 3 minutes and get no change, she insisted instead on putting in 10 yen, talking until the thing hung up (one minute), and then repeating the process until she got her message to my aunt that we would call her when we arrived in Nakagami Station. And, at the end of this, she said "Gaaah, I spent 40 cents on that phone call! How expensive!!" Sigh.
The JR train we took from Shinjuku to Nakagami was a nightmare. We had to stand the whole time because it was packed tighter than a sardine can, but the Japanese are professional train riders and will literally mow you down if you're standing in their way at their stop. I did get knocked down at one point, which is utterly embarrassing. I was so happy when we were able to get off that train (and that we were standing on the side the doors opened, thank God).
Out of pure coincidence, my uncle happened to be riding the same train, so when we disembarked we heard "Oneesan?" and ran into Kawasakisan, Suzukoobachan's husband. He had a cell phone, so he spared me from having to operate a pay phone at my mom's pace. About five minutes later, Suzukoobachan arrived in her little car, and we went to a little Japanese restaurant to grab some dinner.
Mom and I both ordered nabeyaki udon with a side of maguro paste over rice. Kawasakisan got tonkatsu and I have no idea what Suzukoobachan got, hah. Oh man, they put fried mochi into the udon, which made it so much more delicious than I can describe. The noodles were made in-house, the shiitake mushroom was fresh, not reconstituted, and they tossed in some chrysanthemum leaves, which I had never eaten before (they taste like how the plant smells. Go figure).
I was tired during dinner, but nothing could compare to how tired I was when we got to Suzukoobachan's house. She made tea and put out odango and what looked like mochi and bean paste on a stick. She also brought out mizuyoukan, which is like a thick red bean pudding in a cup. I showed them pictures of my pets and some pictures from my father's Air Force retirement. After a couple hours of chatting, my mom and I finally were able to grab a shower and go to sleep.
Oh, Japanese bathrooms. I LOVE them. The toilet has its own little closet, and the water that refills the toilet is what you wash your hands with (so efficient! It's clean water that goes into the tank, why not use it to wash your hands?) so there is no sink. The sink is in the same area as the washing machine and has a medicine cabinet and mirror about it. The bathroom is just that-- the entire room is used for bathing. There is a tub with high walls for soaking, and an area near the door used for washing and showering. There are two hooks for the shower wand, the high hook for standing up and the low hook for squatting or sitting. The spigot swivels between the tub and the shower area so that you can either fill the tub or fill your wash bucket. The idea is that you fill the tub with hot water to soak, but before you get in you wash your body first in the showering area so that you do not get the soaking water dirty.
We slept without pillows because Suzukoobachan does not have any extras. Mom says we'll get some at the BX. I look forward to that.
We were fed a snack half an hour into the flight, which was the normal soda and a bag of crunchy things. Lunch was around 12:30, and we got a choice between chicken or pork swimming in stir-fryish gravy alongside some sad green beans and rice. I honestly have had better Lean Cuisine. Served with it were a piece of what looked to be a cucumber roll and shrimp sushi, salad with creamy vinaigrette, and a conspicuously out of place dinner roll with margarine.
Soon after lunch, I curled up into my seat, put on some Without a Trace (his fake American accent fools nobody-- he is so obviously Australian), and fell asleep for the next three hours. At some point, the male steward reached over me and closed my window, which was a good move because the sun was high and bright for the whole trip.
When I came to, I felt strangely refreshed. I peeked out the window, and to my surprise I saw lots of snowy mountains. Knowing that we had to be long past Colorado, I loaded up the flight path. While I waited for it, I looked out the window, and noticed these huge, long, striped white trails that bisected the mountains and emptied into a wated body to the south. I had taken a physical geography class, so I immediately became excited.
GLACIERS! THOSE ARE FREAKING GLACIERS! :D :D :D :D
You hear about how large they are and you see pictures of them in books, but it's difficult to appreciate glaciers until you actually see them with your own eyes. And when Anchorage came along about an hour later, I had something to compare give a sense of scale-- they are GIGANTIC. It's amazing how big they are, and it's difficult to imagine 1. that they even formed at all, and 2. that they might be under threat of melting. That's pretty depressing to think about.
According to the flight path, they were the Bering Glaciers.
Around this time we got a little ham sandwich to tide us over until the next meal. There was nothing special about it, but it wasn't half bad tasting. About a two hours before landing we got pizza with a nice pastry-like crust.
At 2:15, we landed in Narita International Airport.
My mother told me horror stories about the lengthy line in which I would have to stand waiting to get through customs; this did not happen at all-- it took all of 2 minutes after retrieving my bags to turn in my cards and wait for my mother in the terminal.
Unfortunately, I had not studied the map of the terminal well before departure, nor did I feel adventurous enough to explore it throroughly because where I thought I was supposed to meet my mother ended up not being the place where I was supposed to meet my mother. Her flight arrived the same time that mine did, as hers was also delayed (our initial flights were supposed to get in simultaneously, too), and she and I waited in the terminal for each other for about an hour and a half. She was incredibly understanding, as she said that she asked many many airport workers where areas designated by the airport to meeting were, and they had no clue.
From there, we caught a Keisei train from Narita to Yawata. This was all fine and good, except they don't have escalators to get to and from the platforms. My mom is a persistent and strong-willed person, so when I told her I'd carry her bags for her she just snorted and hauled her stuff on her own. She broke her leg during the summer and I didn't want her to injure herself before her visit to Japan even began, so I would run my stuff up or down the stairs, set them down, run back to meet my mom, grab her stuff, and take it to where my stuff was. Luckily there weren't very many people to worry about snagging my things. I haven't exercised in a long hot while, so in the end I was pretty tired, especially considering I had to do this numerous times.
Anyhow, from Yawata we took a Tooei Shinjuku train to Shinjuku station. Yawata is the very end of the line, so our train was empty when we boarded and spilling over with people by the time we disembarked. Shinjuku, minatomachi indeed. The station was PACKED. Granted, we get there about 6:15, but still-- it was a buzzing sea of black-haired heads bobbing around. Quite confusing. I was lucky that my mom was wearing a somewhat uniquely colored shirt because otherwise, I would have lost her.
We spent a little while in Shinjuku Station first looking for a bathroom, and then trying to figure out how to use the pay phones. Since my mom didn't want to chuck 100 yen into the thing, use 3 minutes and get no change, she insisted instead on putting in 10 yen, talking until the thing hung up (one minute), and then repeating the process until she got her message to my aunt that we would call her when we arrived in Nakagami Station. And, at the end of this, she said "Gaaah, I spent 40 cents on that phone call! How expensive!!" Sigh.
The JR train we took from Shinjuku to Nakagami was a nightmare. We had to stand the whole time because it was packed tighter than a sardine can, but the Japanese are professional train riders and will literally mow you down if you're standing in their way at their stop. I did get knocked down at one point, which is utterly embarrassing. I was so happy when we were able to get off that train (and that we were standing on the side the doors opened, thank God).
Out of pure coincidence, my uncle happened to be riding the same train, so when we disembarked we heard "Oneesan?" and ran into Kawasakisan, Suzukoobachan's husband. He had a cell phone, so he spared me from having to operate a pay phone at my mom's pace. About five minutes later, Suzukoobachan arrived in her little car, and we went to a little Japanese restaurant to grab some dinner.
Mom and I both ordered nabeyaki udon with a side of maguro paste over rice. Kawasakisan got tonkatsu and I have no idea what Suzukoobachan got, hah. Oh man, they put fried mochi into the udon, which made it so much more delicious than I can describe. The noodles were made in-house, the shiitake mushroom was fresh, not reconstituted, and they tossed in some chrysanthemum leaves, which I had never eaten before (they taste like how the plant smells. Go figure).
I was tired during dinner, but nothing could compare to how tired I was when we got to Suzukoobachan's house. She made tea and put out odango and what looked like mochi and bean paste on a stick. She also brought out mizuyoukan, which is like a thick red bean pudding in a cup. I showed them pictures of my pets and some pictures from my father's Air Force retirement. After a couple hours of chatting, my mom and I finally were able to grab a shower and go to sleep.
Oh, Japanese bathrooms. I LOVE them. The toilet has its own little closet, and the water that refills the toilet is what you wash your hands with (so efficient! It's clean water that goes into the tank, why not use it to wash your hands?) so there is no sink. The sink is in the same area as the washing machine and has a medicine cabinet and mirror about it. The bathroom is just that-- the entire room is used for bathing. There is a tub with high walls for soaking, and an area near the door used for washing and showering. There are two hooks for the shower wand, the high hook for standing up and the low hook for squatting or sitting. The spigot swivels between the tub and the shower area so that you can either fill the tub or fill your wash bucket. The idea is that you fill the tub with hot water to soak, but before you get in you wash your body first in the showering area so that you do not get the soaking water dirty.
We slept without pillows because Suzukoobachan does not have any extras. Mom says we'll get some at the BX. I look forward to that.
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
The trip that nearly didn't happen. Twice.
So I was proud of myself-- I had my suitcase packed by two o'clock on the day before departure, which is an almost unheard of feat for me since I am usually cramming things into a duffel bag while I'm running to the car.
Well, we had everything planned so well-- I would stay up and burn DVDs and transfer files onto my computer while Dagmar would sleep. He would wake up at 3 and we'd be out the door by 3:30 so I could be at the airport by 4 (since I have been told time and time again that this is mandatory for international flights). That would give me plenty of time to organize my carryon stuff around my laptop, as the space it takes up dictates what I can fit around it and in what arrangement. All of my things were right next to my bag; they just weren't in it.
Well, I laid down around 2:15 to get a little rest before setting out since my laptop was gleaning information from my desktop. I woke up a little puzzled that I felt somewhat refreshed, as if I had napped longer than 45 minutes. Dagmar was still fast asleep.
I grabbed my phone, and it was 4. AWESOME. I had everything planned so well up to this point, and panic set in pretty hardcore. Stuff went flying into my backpack and purse, crammed in every which way, the laptop got shoved into its little caddy and somehow I managed to fit in 2 minutes to wash my face and hair before running out the door in an exhausted, frazzled mess.
I hoped to God that I would be able to check my luggage. I hoped to God I'd be allowed to check in at all. After all, this was an international flight and I'd have to go through all sorts of lines and metal detectors and pat-downs and produce declarations.
Well, as it turns out if you're from the US and leaving the US, they don't seem to care what you're taking with you if your connecting flight will also be leaving from the US. So that was a relief.
Except that about halfway to the airport I realized that I had left my laptop AC adaptor plugged into the wall. I ran through all these scenarios in my head where I'd either have to pay buttloads of cash to get a new one or just forgo having the computer with me at all.
"I'll go get it. It'll take me half an hour," said the level-headed and not completely panicked and sleep-deprived boyfriend. He lives about 15 minutes away, and seeing as it was only 4:50 and my flight boarded at 5:30, it was the most rational thought produced all morning. So poor Dagmar, after dropping me off, dutifully drove back to his house, grabbed my charger, and returned to the airport to give it and a farewell kiss to me.
He is just the best. I will miss him so much.
So anyway, after going through the screening point, I had to sort of hustle to my gate, where only I and one other person had not boarded. I'm just glad I wasn't the only one they were waiting on. It was 5:45 by this point.
Okay, on the plane, finally! I got sat next to two chatty parents with iPhones talking about the middle schools their children attended. I shuffled through my stuff several times, trying to arrange it in an under-the-seat-friendly fashion. This was met with disputable success.
On final approach, I went to grab my boarding pass for the next flight, when I noticed that my passport was nowhere to be found. I had to use it to check in, and I had it in-hand when I went through screening. Had I dropped it when I boarded the plane? HAD IT DROPPED THROUGH THE GAP BETWEEN THE PLANE AND THE (GANGWAY)? I went through all of my bags numerous times, as well as the kangaroo pouch and my pockets. Nothing. Panic again set in. If I couldn't find that passport, I wouldn't be able to leave the US.
I searched my stuff once my neighbors disembarked, and found my passport flopped under my seat. Relief metaphorically washed over me.
So now I'm waiting in DFW for another hour and a half to board my long long long flight to Narita. I hope that we get fed and, more importantly, that I am not asleep when they serve it.
As a sidenote, DFW's terminal is kind of interesting. I offloaded on the exact opposite side of the airport from where I would be leaving, which does not bode well for my return trip since I have a very narrow window in which to get through customs and then on to my flight back to Austin. Anyhow, the radio station they have hooked into the PA must be reading my brain, since they have played at least two songs from Madonna's Confessions on a Dance Floor and Gwen Stefani's Love Angel Music Baby, as well as other annoying dancey pop music that I enjoy.
I'm not excited that once I get into Narita, it will be at least another 3 hours of traveling before we will be at Suzuko obachan's house. Trains are sort of fun, though. I'll just keeping telling myself that.
I will pretend to be productive and brush up on some Japanese while I have downtime, although what I would really love to do right now is to nap.
Well, we had everything planned so well-- I would stay up and burn DVDs and transfer files onto my computer while Dagmar would sleep. He would wake up at 3 and we'd be out the door by 3:30 so I could be at the airport by 4 (since I have been told time and time again that this is mandatory for international flights). That would give me plenty of time to organize my carryon stuff around my laptop, as the space it takes up dictates what I can fit around it and in what arrangement. All of my things were right next to my bag; they just weren't in it.
Well, I laid down around 2:15 to get a little rest before setting out since my laptop was gleaning information from my desktop. I woke up a little puzzled that I felt somewhat refreshed, as if I had napped longer than 45 minutes. Dagmar was still fast asleep.
I grabbed my phone, and it was 4. AWESOME. I had everything planned so well up to this point, and panic set in pretty hardcore. Stuff went flying into my backpack and purse, crammed in every which way, the laptop got shoved into its little caddy and somehow I managed to fit in 2 minutes to wash my face and hair before running out the door in an exhausted, frazzled mess.
I hoped to God that I would be able to check my luggage. I hoped to God I'd be allowed to check in at all. After all, this was an international flight and I'd have to go through all sorts of lines and metal detectors and pat-downs and produce declarations.
Well, as it turns out if you're from the US and leaving the US, they don't seem to care what you're taking with you if your connecting flight will also be leaving from the US. So that was a relief.
Except that about halfway to the airport I realized that I had left my laptop AC adaptor plugged into the wall. I ran through all these scenarios in my head where I'd either have to pay buttloads of cash to get a new one or just forgo having the computer with me at all.
"I'll go get it. It'll take me half an hour," said the level-headed and not completely panicked and sleep-deprived boyfriend. He lives about 15 minutes away, and seeing as it was only 4:50 and my flight boarded at 5:30, it was the most rational thought produced all morning. So poor Dagmar, after dropping me off, dutifully drove back to his house, grabbed my charger, and returned to the airport to give it and a farewell kiss to me.
He is just the best. I will miss him so much.
So anyway, after going through the screening point, I had to sort of hustle to my gate, where only I and one other person had not boarded. I'm just glad I wasn't the only one they were waiting on. It was 5:45 by this point.
Okay, on the plane, finally! I got sat next to two chatty parents with iPhones talking about the middle schools their children attended. I shuffled through my stuff several times, trying to arrange it in an under-the-seat-friendly fashion. This was met with disputable success.
On final approach, I went to grab my boarding pass for the next flight, when I noticed that my passport was nowhere to be found. I had to use it to check in, and I had it in-hand when I went through screening. Had I dropped it when I boarded the plane? HAD IT DROPPED THROUGH THE GAP BETWEEN THE PLANE AND THE (GANGWAY)? I went through all of my bags numerous times, as well as the kangaroo pouch and my pockets. Nothing. Panic again set in. If I couldn't find that passport, I wouldn't be able to leave the US.
I searched my stuff once my neighbors disembarked, and found my passport flopped under my seat. Relief metaphorically washed over me.
So now I'm waiting in DFW for another hour and a half to board my long long long flight to Narita. I hope that we get fed and, more importantly, that I am not asleep when they serve it.
As a sidenote, DFW's terminal is kind of interesting. I offloaded on the exact opposite side of the airport from where I would be leaving, which does not bode well for my return trip since I have a very narrow window in which to get through customs and then on to my flight back to Austin. Anyhow, the radio station they have hooked into the PA must be reading my brain, since they have played at least two songs from Madonna's Confessions on a Dance Floor and Gwen Stefani's Love Angel Music Baby, as well as other annoying dancey pop music that I enjoy.
I'm not excited that once I get into Narita, it will be at least another 3 hours of traveling before we will be at Suzuko obachan's house. Trains are sort of fun, though. I'll just keeping telling myself that.
I will pretend to be productive and brush up on some Japanese while I have downtime, although what I would really love to do right now is to nap.
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