The First REAL post from Japan
Tuesday, September 4th, 2007‘Allo ‘Allo, this is Nighthawk calling London.
There is a very good reason for this quote, but I’ll get to that later.
What to write, what to write. There are so many impressions.
The japanese are short, but so are the rest of you, so that doesn’t really strike me as unusual. They don’t spit in the street as is advertised in every guidebook I read. They’re very nice, if ususally completely useless. They can’t understand english for the most part and they can’t read maps. But as they don’t speak english they can’t explain where I have to go anyway.
After an rocky start, I have landed. I was immediately put to work with the task of leading people from the airport to the hotel . . . I must’ve done something right in Brussels. And I didn’t lead em wrong. I took em on the shortest route to the hotel. This included many many stairs and many many little bike obstacle thingies. Which for a man with 2 backpacks strapped to him is quite navigatable. For people with multiple rollerbags . . . . Not so much 
But, I must’ve done right by them, coz the next day I was asked to lead the way to the center. . . . Funny people.
I’ve been running around as much as my jetlag is allowing me to do. I’ve visited a shrine to some old dead japanese person already and seen the Tokyo Tower. I’ve also managed to find the red-light district (I don’t know why, but I always tend to do this) in search of a restaurant. So far, I’ve had 5 beverages that were just too foul to drink. And due to not looking at signs (because we wouldn’t understand them anyway) I’ve eaten at an italian and korean restaurant. The japanese have a coffee obsession and even serve coffe flavoured water at restaurants. I’ve also had good fortune eating, though I couldn’t tell you what I ate, nor did I know what I was ordering. Adventure is fun.
Today was the treasure hunt. I was to register as an alien at a city hall and register as “living abroad” at the Dutch embassy. Some of us decided to make it a race. Even knowing the belgian Embassy was approx 100 meters away from the finish line I was determined to win. So I woke up, discovered that the landlord did speak english. This is the first referral to the Quote earlier. The Japanese usually speak less English than Officer Crabtree does, and he was no exception. The City hall, by good fortune lay only 3 blocks from my residence. And as I soon found out, for “alien registration” I needed to be “No here”
I tell you what. Deciphering what “No here” means between a Japanese government worker, a landlord whos idea of english is “No here means somewhere else” and myself takes a Looooooooooong time. The center opened an hour later at which time the landlord could tell them what the government worker had really said and I was sent to another city hall soon enough. With an hour delay on the start, I was not hopefull of winning the race.
The Dutch Embassy however was a breeze. Exiting the subway I quickly saw Building 52, clearly marked on the map next to building 50. In a straight line I would soon be at the embassy. Unfortunaly for me, as I mentioned earlier, Japanese can’t read maps. There is a good reason for this. Japanese also can’t DRAW maps. After walking for 10 minutes the sun came through the clouds clearly on my left. Indicating I was heading west. Whereas the dutch Embassy was to the east of the Subway station. Confused I walked back and once again saw the buildings so clearly marked on my map . . . In the wrong order. I know it’s in the wrong order because 5 minutes later I was at the Embassy gate. And 52 was drawn on the right of 50 wheras with north being up on that map it should have been the other way around.
Japan is full of new adventures and these were only a few. I will add more later, hell more have already taken place and need writing down. But right now I have to donn my suit, pin up my orchid and head for an official ball. Wheeeee?
-Wally
P.S. It’s HOT and HUMID here. DAMN
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Quote of the day:
If you get lost, don’t worry.
Japan is an island, you can’t get far.
- Sato San