02/28/2010 In Japan

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.

The 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.

It's like the size of my fist

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:

Yeah, I know I look like the guy in that movie Powder

I can't help it just like Makoto can't help but make awesome faces in photographs

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:

Parlor Sagan

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.

Makoto studies his opponent

The metal balls

The peg board with the LCD screen in the center

The knob you twist to send the balls shooting up the side of the peg board to come raining down to the bottom

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:

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.