Market to market

Amanda and I's first adventure together in Japan was to the Tokyo fish market. Her Japanese friend, Taro, took the day off to show us around. It was chilly and a light drizzle was just starting to fall as we entered the tightly packed booths of the market. As usual, it was full of an array of all things squishy, slimy and tentacled. There were also the booths brimming with the Japanese crafts and trinkets, for the shoppers who weren't hungry.

The light rain turned into a downpour, so we ducked under an awning of one booth to buy umbrellas. Vendors scrambled to cover their treasures with plastic and divert the rivers of water flowing down the eves. Along with the shoppers, we ducked between covered tunnels, opening and closing our umbrellas in the openings between.

From there, we left rich tradition for a taste of modern lifestyle. The shops were scattered sparsely among the cathedral-high, yet stark walls and ceilings.


Taro tolerated our shopping for awhile, then we headed to a sushi restaurant. It was the best sushi I've ever head. If raw fish could melt in your mouth, this is what it would taste like. The $50 price tag on the meal was worth every penny.

Afterwards, we headed out for Amanda's first Japanese karaoke experience. Unlike America's version, where performers sing for bars full of partiers, we entered a small room for just the three of us. Having only three people vying for the mic definitely allows for some opportunity to find your true karaoke song.



Lesson learned: I still haven't found my song.

Hunting for blossoms

Cherry blossoms are to Japan as apple pie is to America. Except in the United States, there is no certain apple pie season. So we Americans don't get to experience the anticipation and suspense leading up to this cultural and natural phenomenon.

The cherry trees usually bloom sometime in April, depending on the region. As soon as the first buds open, the Japanese stock up on alcohol, warm clothes and camp out under a cherry tree for the evening, which has the deceivingly serene name of "cherry blossom viewings."

But our group wasn't destined to see the blossoms or the parties. Every place we went, they were just about to peak out of their buds. Then we would hear about how splendid the bloom was right after we left. Meanwhile, the news buzzed about the bloom already occurring in Tokyo. Since it only lasts about a week, it looked like I was going to miss it completely.

While many of the trees have shed their pedals already, I saw my first cheery tree in bloom today.




Here's another more impressive one my sister and I saw later.


Lesson learned: All the hype is warranted.

Tokyo sights

Since Amanda's flight was cancelled, and then delayed (all due to birds, who would have thought?) Taro and I had the day to bond. He took me sightseeing along his girlfriend, who is a stewardess for Japan Airlines.

The three of us started the day wandering among the shops that cloak the entryway to a giant temple. The street was a human traffic jam, everyone moving in slow motion toward the temple as they peered over the goods in the shops.

Afterwards, we wandered among the grounds of garden and took a "water bus" around the harbor and by the famous Rainbow Bridge.


There was no sight I was more happy to see, however, than Amanda finally entering the airport. We wasted no time in introducing her to sashimi (raw fish) and octopus.

Lesson learned: A water bus has no wheels.

Crowd surfing

Many movies have tried to capture the wildness of Tokyo's nightlife. Cameras pan across its flashing neon lights, shifting through clips of scantily scan women or catching shots of crowds spilling onto the streets. Now having seen it, I don't think I've any movie I've seen has quite done it. It's because a camera is limited to one sense. It can't catch the feeling of hundreds of bodies pressed around you on every side, or the smell of grilled meat one second and perfume the next.

My sister's friend Taro, who she met while on exchange in Ghana, Africa and now lives in Tokyo, met me at my hotel and swept me off to dinner minutes after I arrived Saturday night.

He took me to Shibuya, a district that holds the famous Times Square of Tokyo and is a popular shopping and entertainment spot. We passed by Hachiko, the statue of the dog that has become a famous meeting place. While waiting at a stop light in the middle of the square, I counted nine theater-size screens flashing advertisements on the sides of sky scrapers. The intersection we stopped at is called a scramble. It's where the walk light turns green for all pedestrians waiting there. Hundreds of people had collected, pressing toward the curb like runners at a starting gate. When the green walk light began its chirp, all those people surged into the intersection, squirming through the on comers in their fight to get to the other side. While steering me through, Taro pointed to a bus stuck in the sea of pedestrians, vainly trying to finish a left turn.

Taro took me to a yaki niko restaurant, which has become one of my favorite meals here. You grill pieces of meat and vegetables on a barbecue installed in the table.

Before dinner though, we had a few minutes to wander among the mayhem occurring in the narrow, meandering streets around the area. We even wandered into a video arcade, which is like a cross between a Vegas casino and Rainbow Bright.

Lesson learned: Just follow Taro.