Freshasaurus

06/03/2010 In Japan, Panoramics, Photos by admin

Makoto and I walked out of the noisy pachinko parlor into the quiet street. I only had a few hours left in Japan and my mission to find Guinness foreign extra stout had been unfruitful. So we decided to check some of the nearby grocery stores to see if they had it. Unfortunately this didn’t net any special Guinness beer, but it did lead to some interesting discoveries. First off, there is a Polish vodka sold in Japan that is 96 percent alcohol. When you take a half-shot of it the first sensation is a slight burn, but then an immense warmth in your chest. I know because I purchased said alcohol and had to of course try it. Also, some food in grocery stores is so fresh, it’s still alive. There were crabs and giant prawns on ice at one grocery store that were still kind of fidgeting around; not enough to escape, but still alive nonetheless.

I took this opportunity to take pictures of a couple of my favorite things in the grocery.

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28/02/2010 In Japan by admin

On my last night in Japan, Robby was set to leave on a train back to his apartment elsewhere (I’ve forgotten. Whoops!), so we had to sneak in a quick dinner with the whole Yagishita family. As it turns out, the location and the meal was already picked out. All that was left to do was get everyone to the restaurant, sitting down and drinking beer. And it was a feast.

I even wound up eating fugu, or blowfish, which if not prepared properly can kill you. Obviously it was prepared properly. We had a real nice meal and then we had to get Robby to the station. We all said our goodbyes and then piled back into the car. A short while later, unannounced to me, we stopped at a grocery store. Makoto and his family knew that I was on a mission to find the Guinness Foreign Extra Stout and this was stop number one on that quest. The beer aisle had no fancy Guinness, but what it did have was the smallest can of beer I’ve ever seen.

Makoto’s parents then decided that they should get me some of the sauces and food that I had enjoyed on my trip to take home, though I’m not sure I could even cook food as good as what I had in Japan. For reasons I’ll get into on the next post, I did not make it home with the sauces. After Makoto’s parents checked out, we headed to their house and had some tea (I think. I’m starting to get a little fuzzy on small details – the price you pay for sleeping and enjoying life rather than constantly writing in your blog). Regardless of what else we did, we took these photos together:

After a little time at the Yagishita residence, Makoto, Yoko and I were dropped off back at Makoto and Yoko’s place. I wrote one of these entries and then passed out.

The next day was my final day in Japan and Makoto and I decided that I needed to experience pachinko, which is kind of like the Japanese version of the slot machine, only ten times as confusing. I can’t quite remember what happened in the morning. I think Yoko made tea and Makoto and I got ready to lose yen. On our way out the door I gave Yoko a hug goodbye. We were going to be out all day and that would be the last time I saw her.

Just a few blocks down the street was this beauty of a pachinko parlor:

It’s unbelievable how loud a pachinko parlor is. If you’re not familiar with the game, it consists of sending consistent volley of small metal balls to the top of a board of pegs at which point they cascade down bouncing off of everything in their path (sort of like pinball) hopefully to arrive in a designated winning area which makes a slot machine-like wheel spin occasionally lining up three similar characters at which point all hell breaks loose and you have to furiously tap a button on the screen while two 3-D characters battle it out on the small LCD screen in the center of the game. At least this is what I gathered from what happened on that day.

I had something like ¥2,000 left in my wallet which is like $20. I decided to gamble it all because I was just going to lose a chunk of it in conversion anyways. After putting in my yen, the little black tray in front of my filled with the little shiny metal balls. With no coaching I just began to slightly twist the knob to send one or two balls up to the top at a time; carefully watching them plink and plonk all the while willing them to fall into the winning zone. This is how I thought the game was played. That is until I felt a soft hand on top of mind twisting the knob further, sending more of a steady stream of balls to the top. I looked over my right shoulder and it was one of the female attendants attempting to explain to me in Japanese how to play while holding my hand. How embarrassing. This gaijin (foreigner) must have looked so helpless. Once she felt satisfied that she taught me how to play correctly she walked away. A few minutes later I felt another hand on mine. It was a different attendant this time teaching me how to use a small button near the thumb to stop the balls from shooting and pointing out the goal of where to aim them. That was way awkward, but really funny nevertheless. And just incase you don’t believe my description of pachinko, here’s video evidence that it really is that ridiculous and confusing:

http://www.veoh.com/videos/v19871040KCCrFX6j

On our way out of the parlor I noticed how everyone else was gambling. They had plastic bins adorned with the graphics of the game they were playing stacked behind them, full of the little balls. Having grown up near Reno, I took some satisfaction in knowing that no matter how far you travel from home, people tend to be the same everywhere you go. I’ve seen my fair share of stretchy-pants clad women and holey-jean clad men sitting with a bucket of quarters in their lap playing slots.

That about does it for me today. There’s quite a bit else that we crammed into my last hours in Japan, which will have to wait until another post.

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26/02/2010 In Japan by admin

The night of Makoto’s wedding ended with Robby, Yoshi and I returning to Makoto’s apartment with bags full of snacks and beer. Yes, we ate more. Yoshi was really funny in the convenience store because someone would pick something to eat or drink and he would say, “good, what else?” We ended up with two six packs of beer, wasabi potato chips and some other snack I can’t remember right now. Once we got into Makoto’s place, we drank and played Mario until Robby and I were falling asleep and Yoshi’s wife came to get him.

Somehow, after all that eating, I woke up the next morning hungry. Makoto was going to meet us at his apartment to take us on a trip to Kamakura, but wasn’t going to be around until lunchtime, so we decided to forage for food in a nearby supermarket.

I was so overwhelmed by the grocery store I couldn’t make a decision. We finally decided to just pick a pastry-like item and a drink and call it good. On our walk back to the apartment, I decided that I had to get a Mister Donut too, or else my friend Keiko would be disappointed.

And so, my breakfast was this: a sugary melon and chocolate chip pastry, a cup of coffee that came pre-packed with a lid and a straw like it was some sort of grown-up Capris Sun, and a chocolate glazed donut from Mister Donut. Eating good.

Soon after breakfast, Makoto and Yoko arrived and unloaded a ton of stuff they had received, or was left over from the wedding the day before. They also brought out chocolate potato chips. That’s right, potato chips covered in white chocolate and made to look like real potato chips – serve alongside caviar at your next high-brow Super Bowl party.

Once things were settled us boys said goodbye to Yoko and jumped in Makoto’s parent’s car, which he had borrowed for the day. As he was driving us around, he began explaining the concept of the Japanese Love Hotel. Evidently, if you and your lover want to have a quickie, you can go into one of these places and rent a room hourly. Inside the room you will most likely find vending machines stocked with the necessary safety gear. Robby and Makoto said that typically they have really fancy entrances and even themed rooms, but the ones we drove past weren’t really the type – they were just a tad sleazy looking.

Our drive to Kamakura took us up windy mountain roads that, on nearly every corner, had vertical grooves in the lanes. Makoto said this was to stop young kids from drifting the turns. And something that always amazed me was how in some areas, Japan decided not to conform the city to the landscape, but to make the landscape fit the city. There are many places where it seems they cut through a hill or mountain, put up a concrete wall and then built some homes and businesses.

Looking at Makoto’s navigation system, I couldn’t help but joke about the icons that looked like swastikas that kept popping up. Turns out they are the reverse-orientation of the swastika and are used to mark temples.

Nevertheless whenever we would be driving towards one of the semi-swastikas or see a cluster of them, Makoto or I would chime in with something like, “Uh, oh, lotta Nazi’s ahead. Maybe we should pick another route.”

I forgot to say, it was another rainy day in Japan. When we made it to Kamakura, we drove past a giant temple, at which point I thought, “I know we’re going to see a big buddha, but just how big?” Once we parked the car we got out with our umbrellas and made our way to the shrine. Inside the gates was a small place where, if it weren’t raining, you could wash off your face in preparation to view the giant buddha (or daibustu as it is referred to in Japan).

Once you wash yourself the path to the daibutsu hooks left and as you make the corner, you just see a long paved pathway leading to stairs, leading to a GIANT freaking buddha statue. It’s ridiculously impressive seeing it in the distance with a bunch of tiny umbrellas all maneuvering around it.

Makoto, Robby and I waited our turn to take a photo in front of the statue and came out with this classic:

Walking around the daibutsu, we saw a little stand where you could pay 20 yen, which is about 20 cents to go inside of the statue. Once inside, we were kind of unimpressed. No wonder it only cost 20 yen, there was nothing interesting in there other than a couple plaques showing the techniques used to construct the dang thing. We walked down the steep stairs (seriously, all the stairs are steep!) and out.

When we made it out of the shrine area, Makoto took us across the street to this cookie place whose logo and all their cookies looked like a pigeon. He bought us each one and we went back to the car.

Our next stop was a very interesting Starbucks. Makoto told us the place had a pool, well, not for swimming, but it had a freaking pool. Finding parking was really tough. All of the spots were full so we drove around a bit and almost got stuck in some strange town-hall rush hour traffic, but eventually we lucked out and nabbed a spot in an automated parking lot. I don’t believe I’ve said this yet about Japan, but it has to have some of the best drivers and parkers in the world. Every street and driveway is so narrow it looks like a one-way, but when I asked Makoto’s mom laughed and said “two-way.” And parking spots in Japan are tiny enough to make them tough, even with automatic fold-in mirrors, but everyone has to be fancy and always back into spots. It’s amazing.

Once we parked I took a look at the automated parking lot setup. There are this round things on the ground that, once you park and go on about your business, flip up a blockade after some set amount of time, effectively locking your car in its spot until you go and pay at the vending machine to have the blockade lowered.

The Starbucks was next door to the lot and its indoors huge. It was well spread out with comfortable looking tables and chairs. It looked more like a restaurant than a coffee joint. Once at the counter I had no choice but to order a sakura steamer, whatever it is, it was staring me in the face.

The bird cookie was delicious and the sakura steamer was kind of like the green tea latte here in the states. Once those were finished I walked over and took some pictures of the Starbucks pool through the window.

Done with our Starbucks, we debated what to do next. Somehow, Makoto and Robby decided on a trip to a Don Quixote – kinda like a Spencer’s Gifts, but two stories and packed with awesome.

The Don Quixote had its own parking garage and elevator.

That cute little penguin is plastered everywhere in the stores. As for the content of the store, what can I say? There’s cool game stuff like a jenga you play with little gold bricks instead of wood blocks, dirty stuff like man thongs, ridiculous stuff like love bazookas (still not sure what that thing was), and awesome stuff like adult-size Pokemon costumes.

I wound up buying an old school nintendo controller themed business card holder and a couple of fake mustaches for my friend Crystal who, if she’s reading this right now, I hope is twirling her fu-manchu all the while.

I’m gonna stop there for right now. I’ve only got one more night and one more day worth of pictures and stories and then I’ll have to find something else to blog about. Sad, I know.

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