paralogue.org

Several friends appeared in Japan this weekend. Instead of traveling wildly, it became a period of just exploring where we were -- as for one of them, we were bantering back and forth about the merits of spending $300 for what amounted to an additional 12 hours together and a tour of Tokyo before just giving up on it and sticking to Osaka. We hung out around Shinsaibashi and spent a few hours talking in an older cafe where everyone was chain smoking.
We talked about To the Stars and what Homura and Madoka's love Means, as well as the migration of Chinese kanji to Japanese marking periods of cultural migration, the different cultures in Singapore and Thailand, an anomalous amount of general legal advice ... then I got some sneakers, we tried hunting for a conveyor belt sushi place, found it above the Planet of the Maids and then parted ways. Rebecca and I went ... right back out to another cafe at night, really close to the water, and then walked around the surrounding park trying to make friends with cats.
Then today we made our way to Nagoya. We tried to make use of our Wagayama pass for the last day, so we took a really long route to get there, spending the entire morning from like 8am to 12pm chaining between low-speed trains into various towns. I forgot my headphones. I just ended up reading Parfit and napping against the window.
Then we tried to make use of our time in Nagoya, only to find that the vibe didn't stick with us at all. It felt like a student town with lots of international kids and a cosmopolitan touch, and had a sort of Toronto-but-run-by-the-Japanese vibe as a result. Lots of late 90s infra, glass towers and a much more English-friendly bent than our time has been in Osaka, where it very quickly gets into "nobody speaks English" land in the further wards. Literally nohongo was jouzu today. After meeting a second friend for a vegan dinner, around 8pm we started getting back on the train home and now we're preparing for the onsen episode and the festival episode.

There was one thing that stuck with me. The TV at the restaurant was playing reruns of this "why did you come to Japan?" show where they interview people At The Airport about it, and a bunch of them just like answered and clearly wanted to go on with their life after or something, but this girl from Calgary just kept going with them and going to the point where they fast-forwarded her conversation with them and then every time I peeked over they were still just hanging around doing shit with her. Oh, they go CD shopping together. And she likes Ryuichi Sakamoto, that's sick. They show her baby photos and graduation pictures. They draw anime portraits of her growing up in Calgary with her mom. They help her get her wallet back after she leaves it in a taxi. They make her speak Japanese on the phone. They show her AT the concert she came to see where the singers were shouting her out for some unknown reason and she's like . And the two heads in the bottom left and right of the screen are like about it and others and at other moments. And everyone's just like "wow you like Japan! that's so cool!" in a really sincere way. I don't know. That's nice. I want more shows like that. Though in Canada it would seem like we were fetishising newcomers or something if we did that.

thanks again for sharing all these. you have a nice way of writing and the pictures are really nice. i hope i can visit again sometime soon.

i really love the idea of that old man on the beach taking photos.

That's right. It's the onsen episode! Rebecca got me a ryokan trip as a birthday present, and indeed I turned 31 yesterday. Here is me squinting in a yukata.
We arrived by train -- we picked up a whole Shinkansen pass for the next few days because we have an action packed week planned, and this was just the first section. It took around 3 hours to get up to Kinosaki from Osaka, the entire way showcasing really pretty countryside. Town after town of "what do they do there?" I kept thinking about Persona 4, I guess because I was headed to a traditional inn in a small town.
Once there, it was just legions of tourists, Japanese and foreigner alike. We came like a wave -- I guess the town might be used to the tides of reservations causing the floods of people in and out keeping the souvenir shops and cafes alive, but it's an uncanny experience in person.
A bunch of ryokans (there are quite a few!) had people with signs up looking to take people straight to the inn, but seeing as we were like a 5 minute walk, we just decided to go there direct. On the way we saw lots of little roads and even an immaculate garden in the entryway of a cafe.
We got in, met the owner and his family and immediately were set to choosing a yukata to wear and a basket for collecting goods. It's a whole process, that continues the theme of Japan sort of theme-parking itself with a conveyor belt approach. It's fun and, again, both local and foreign visitors come here. It's just interesting how streamlined it is. Anyway, there were both "fancy" yukatas for exploring the town and "onsen" yukatas that are just easier to maneuver in and take on and off ... after a few times I kind of preferred the onsen one just because I didn't have to fuss so much. Rebecca was really taken with the fancier ones and we got a lot of photos of her exploring a Family Mart. People were basically already going outside.
After a little bit of browsing it was time for dinner, which was the largest dinner of my life. Two guys behind us were loudly slurping down their hotpot as we had a delicate multi-course dinner served over a music-box rendition of Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence and the Phantom of the Opera. We were both scared to know even when to start eating. I was so game to eat whatever was in front of me that I ate raw beef that they scurried over to say we were supposed to be cooking over the flame. I just thought, hey, beef sashimi? Sure I'll do anything.

So what did we have? Lots of rice, lots of tofu, picked items, stewed mackarel and tempura and hotpot and the aforementioned beef-you're-supposed-to-cook-dumbass ... I mean. It was all really good. But it was 2,400+ cal and I don't know how anyone gets through it without just like, partially eating it.

Knocked out we decided to try an onsen, and I basically felt super anxious between "being naked in a sex-segregated place" and "trying to not look too much but also not just have my head down". Anything more than a glance and it feels rude or lingering. Still I felt sort of scared about it. I don't regularly strip in front of people and be like "hello, here are my boobs and genitals," but I already had my yukata ripped open by one of the ryokan ladies trying to fit me properly into it, so people were making me flash them regularly.

After 30 minutes we felt sort of beat, so we wandered outside again. There was a bunch of theatrical performances and music and everyone wanted me to get closer and have a good time instead of watching people. There was, earlier in the day, a girl doing a wind-up-doll performance of being an animatronic duck, and then later on -- I don't know if it was the same girl, but we had a wind-up-doll performance yet again.
A man was playing some really cool music I don't know the genre of. He, too, kept beckoning us closer. A lot of people were just recording him and it felt weird until I realised he was also recording himself.
I guess you may have noticed that I take a lot of interest in watching people take photos. It's like half the fun is treating Japan itself as the set -- "this world is beautiful, so why not picture yourself inside it?" -- but then also literally also taking yourself inside that world. It's so interesting to me that even local people do this; taking a piece of the aesthetic-mythopoetic and relating to it directly is allowed and encouraged. There's so much international cultural mixture both in Japanese history and in the Japanese present that it's not like you can't see literally you-yourself here in some greater mythological sense, and it's so obvious how you can get chuuni when there's a shrine around the corner dedicated to a sacred sword you pray to for advice and guidance. It's so obvious how you get Fate/stay night. Everyone meets at these supernatural crossroads, whether it's Joan of Arc or Amakusa Shiro.
It's Tsukimi, and it was a supermoon on my birthday. Everyone was trying to stay out late and enjoy the onsens in the moonlight, take romantic honeymoon photos, or I guess just chill with their bros.
They set up shrines with mochi on each bridge, making each one a little devotional. An elderly woman came to the bridge to give a quick bow to it before continuing on her way. It reminded me of how we passed an ancestral shrine on our way to the ryokan to begin with; at home, in church we are supposed to bow to three different altars every time we pass them, bow to it mid-sentence at times, get on our knees when the Eucharistic Presence is revealed or carried out to the congregation. Here the devotion is in the world itself, a casual part of everyday life. I felt sad how pushed into the corners it is at home; it's become a compartment of life, something that some people Choose to include in their lives, instead of a piece of everyone's life.
I mean, we're a different place, with a different practice. Multiculturalism means we aspire toward a mosaic -- but wouldn't that mean that different sectors of towns have different practices? Instead, it's like nobody can do their thing anywhere (something closer to a secular melting pot). I am not sure I've ever seen Muslims pray in public in Canada, for example.

Anyway, enough of my navel gazing. After another day of food and onsen bathing, we both got a lot of rest and headed back. I met up with another internet friend today (making Three of them, in this Montauk moment), and tomorrow we're readying up for Fukuoka, which I'm only going to because I like Excel Saga. I have to pick the itinerary and between me and Seraphine we have something special planned.

Thank you for posting all of these updates and photos!!.

I adore your travel writing, it's like I'm getting a little novella of Japan with your inner thoughts -- I think funnily enough, it's the sort of book with unique type setting you'd see published in Japan (or so I imagine it to be). I had a friend who was major into TTRPG design who said Japanese table top developers really care about the visual design and aesthetics and layout of books.

(This post was written as I'm waking up, so it may be long and rambly...)

maru wrote: Wed Sep 18, 2024 5:14 am It's a whole process, that continues the theme of Japan sort of theme-parking itself with a conveyor belt approach. It's fun and, again, both local and foreign visitors come here. It's just interesting how streamlined it is.

It's a bit psycho in the way anything articulated in realpolitick terms is, but I've seen the idea that smaller states without hard physical power do soft power projection via cultural production and export: that Japanness as an aesthetic is something sort of intentionally created and produced, which can influence folks who interact with it. Thailand does this with Thai restaurants, and Korea helps protect and steward it's KPop industry and I wouldn't be surprised if a lot of what you see isn't downstream of policy.

But like, humans are complex and fickle creatures and it's as hard to manipulate populations to do things as it is easy to encourage populations to do things: I don't think anyone involved here is thinking in terms of soft power projection or w/e, they're thinking of their lives in the way they interact in the sea of humanity.

And as far as things you could use state capacity for, streamlined yukata sales, pretty boys and thai food is pretty harmless and kinda nice haha.

maru wrote: Wed Sep 18, 2024 5:14 am They set up shrines with mochi on each bridge, making each one a little devotional. An elderly woman came to the bridge to give a quick bow to it before continuing on her way. It reminded me of how we passed an ancestral shrine on our way to the ryokan to begin with; at home, in church we are supposed to bow to three different altars every time we pass them, bow to it mid-sentence at times, get on our knees when the Eucharistic Presence is revealed or carried out to the congregation. Here the devotion is in the world itself, a casual part of everyday life. I felt sad how pushed into the corners it is at home; it's become a compartment of life, something that some people Choose to include in their lives, instead of a piece of everyone's life.

It's interesting to hear you describe this in person, I've heard people talk about veneration of the natural area or individual things but I'm always a bit hesitant to believe reports that sort of play up quirks like this of other cultures as special. Every so often in cities I see quirky or strange graffiti or tagging, like someone carving YHWH in Paleohebrew script on a metal bench, and wonder if that isn't coming from the same human impulse.

I've started attending Quaker meeting, which is like silent meditation where you can share things if you feel compelled to, and this particular meeting has an outdoor courtyard and for the larger Sunday meeting people can do Meeting indoor or outdoors, doing it outdoors felt lovely and kind of special because I was surrounded by greenery I could look at and the open air, in contrast to the slightly more stuffy room upstairs which functions kind of like a traditional church.

maru wrote: Wed Sep 18, 2024 5:14 am I mean, we're a different place, with a different practice. Multiculturalism means we aspire toward a mosaic -- but wouldn't that mean that different sectors of towns have different practices? Instead, it's like nobody can do their thing anywhere (something closer to a secular melting pot). I am not sure I've ever seen Muslims pray in public in Canada, for example.

When I worked at an airport lounge, we had a desperate VIP room and every so often folks would ask to do Salah in there, and maybe one who did it in the main area when it was pretty quiet. Some of it might have just been wanting space but I can understand the privateness and feeling uncomfortable about doing it in public.

I think public secularness is valuable for like, religious freedom and stuff, but I also don't know if people feeling the sort of ambient belief type stuff of Japanese shinto like I think is described as being bad.

We're sick. We're both sick. One of us is smart. One of us is not. I got up at 0630, showered and headed out to Fukuoka anyway. It didn't feel that bad until I think around noon, when the weather (36, with a humidex of 43) started to really catch up to me.

Seraphine had helped me out with an itinerary -- I sort of wanted to get off the beaten track a little and go on an adventure. But I also didn't know what the Local Scene was for anything, coffee, whatever. So she suggested things and it became a list, an order. And then today I did not follow that order. My body was very rapidly giving out, and check-in was 1600.

Why was Fukuoka so important? I think arbitrary sources of meaning are still sources of meaning. This whole trip I've found myself feeling "intuitions" and following them. Weeks ago at a shrine I gave more money than I really needed to because it felt important that I do so. I keep feeling a compulsion to go to Aokigahara but it feels like if I do, I'm going alone into the world of the dead.

In this case, I wanted to just see what ... "inspired"? Excel Saga. There's this thread on Reddit where a guy tattooed the title onto his arm and was like, "man, I can't wait to go to Fukuoka and see all the places the characters are named after." And I was like, wait, what? The characters are named after things?

And indeed, you look and you see ... Acros. Right beside City Hall. And surrounding it? The hotels Excel, Hyatt, Elgala and of course, Il Palazzo-sama. What about the city employees? They're kinda just streets, districts or shrines. Sumiyoshi? Check. Watanabe? Check. Uh, Ropponmatsu? Oh yeah.

The first thing I noticed was that foreigner presence was a lot lower in Fukuoka. Therefore, everyone seemed to be a lot more curious about you. Perhaps I always look like a total weirdo. I certainly think so when I see other people's photos. But I kept getting glanced at, or people turning around looking at me until I looked back; the barista at the local shop kinda looked at me like an alien in a way that I really could not parse. I did not see any white people all day until check-in at this hotel, and literally no one knows any English.

This made things a little awkward because I tended to rely on Rebecca a lot in the past for talking and played the blue oni to her red one; I did not look up many words on my own usually. I tended to just katakana-ize what I was trying to say and tripping over it. In Kinosaki I tried to be funny and say "Hisashiburi" when I returned to a shop and instead said "Hajimemashite" which made no sense at all. Anyway, a tote bag is just "toto baggu." So I win this time.

The second thing I noticed was that it was a bit quieter; Fukuoka is half the population of Osaka and Nagoya. It's not one of the "three big cities." It's just a city. It's smaller than Sapporo.

The third thing I noticed is that it's really pretty and probably a super nice place to live.
It's a mixture of larger apartments, restaurant-centric districts and parks. It's the city of flowers, after all, and the original plan sure had a lot of them in it. Between all of this is a network of canals and a huge underground mall.

It also has a nice manhole cover.
My first mission was getting this backpack off. I got a tote bag after some careful negotiation about what a tote bag is and dropped my bag at some coin lockers, after Alice pointed out that it's one of Japan's gifts to walking around wherever you want. After getting lost and making my way through some used manga stores (no Excel Saga??? but tons of Haikyuu stuff, teeny tiny Fate section for character goods, some BL manga and a very large doujin section), I got some granola (finally, some fucking fibre) at a coffee shop and decided to reorganise the day and head toward Ohori Park.
I saw that there was another park right beside Ohori so I tried to find my way in. There was this sloping hill with thick tree roots forming stairs and I climbed up it, only to find a guided tour of the Pine Slope outside Fukuoka Castle.
I scaled down the hill again and crossed the street to where the park should be, but I wasn't sure. The maps were inverted North in orientation and I kept getting confused. I was also clearly getting a little feverish.
The park itself was quiet. There was a long, long field that seemed like a parking lot, and then out of nowhere a BBQ garden. It's literally called that. Just rows of tents, barbeques and some boombox somewhere playing English top 40 stuff.
A little further and I suddenly found it. A statue of Demeter announced an enormous lake, lined with walk+jog+cycle lanes, bridges and crane boats for two. It's downright Vancouver.
My work done I felt like Tetsuo in Akira. My time was not long if I didn't get out of this heat. Luckily I was able to find a way home through the subway and underground mall. This, of all places, was actually packed full of people, who also I guess were smarter than me. That's a theme today. So I felt weird getting photos, besides this one of Beautiful and Good and their special concern.
Honestly the more gratuitious English I see as subtitles around logos, like, Steins Gate style, the more I feel emboldened to just start throwing kana into anything.

With my bag reclaimed I wandered over to the hotel and saw that I still couldn't check in on the tablet (there's no staff). So I sat on the staircase sweating and feeling bad for fifteen minutes. At 1558, a bunch of Russian men came out of the elevator at once and started laughing when they saw me sitting around saying "it's at 4." Even more Russian guys came out of the elevator in a second round and they all laughed more and said "in Japan it's Very Precise". Then I checked in and passed out in the weirdly snazzy room with the first actual bed I've ever seen. It almost makes up for how sketchy every other aspect of its experience is and how it's like $100 when I live in an Osaka house for like $25/day.
(Anyway. No kvetching on Paralogue, only in real life.)

When I woke up again I realised I needed a meal that was not a tiny cup of granola, so I started wandering outside. Suddenly: people were outside.
What's the Nakasu nightlife like? People wandering talking on phones and a few escort hotels. Many restaurants in little laneways. And above all, a lovely river.
And so I started wandering looking for food, but I felt progressively worse even as it was cooler outside. Everything is sore. I get a headache when I move. But I wanted to see more.
Finally I came across them all ... all the reasons I came here.
I guess it wasn't meaningless after all... it was a kind of love, called loyalty.

we're sick. we're both sick. 7:15 rolls around and my body musters enough awakeness to alert matilde that i most certainly cannot make it to fukuoka. advil is sisyphus and my headache is the boulder... and sisyphus is losing his grand battle right now.

so i sit and wait in the living room for matilde to depart. it feels bittersweet every time we have parted ways on this trip -- like a grand adventure is about to happen, but just a few doors down from my room.

arc'teryx has this big marketing campaign called "no wasted days" and really it's meant to be about like, getting outdoors and experiencing the grand world beyond, but i've taken it to heart to mean "do not be a lump indoors today. even if you are sick." and thus, i get ready to go outside.

brooklyn roasting company (namba) is the first location on the docket today because i need to work but our wifi is garbage. i spend far too much money on coffee and a cookie but the barista is jovial and so i feel pleasant about the whole experience. side note here: there is something fascinatingly bizarre about being in a space that is decidedly For Tourists as a Tourist. another Tourist enters the cafe... our eyes lock... what type of Tourist are you... are we about to do the patented Tourist smirk and nod... do we acknowledge the great journey we are each on in this exact moment...

no. i look away as fast as i can and continue to work while some american girls loudly talk about the pains of working with children.

eventually i grow tired of brooklyn roasting company's atmosphere and decide it's time to, you guessed it, spend more money. but it's (mostly) not for me, it's on souvenirs for loved ones, and so i can justify it.

i take the beautiful nankai line down to sumiyoshi taisha (the re-run!). there's an advertisement on here for a... high school? middle school? university? actually, it's all three, and it's being touted by a young girl in a clean uniform with a wistful look on her face. she is most definitely acing those tests.


i'm here to get another bunny charm. it's for good fortune, and i bought one the first time matilde and i came down here. unfortunately, on a very cursed trip to ise, my good fortune bunny charm broke off somewhere. that very much sounds like something that will eventually have horrible repercussions spiritually but for now, meh. spend ¥1000, get another charm, pretend that the replacement cancels it all out.

afterwards, it's... god, it's bloody hot out. my lips are drying out and the wooziness is kicking in. it's a short stumbly walk to a nearby park where i desperately seek out a bench for a water break. but first, obligatory flower picture.


the nankai line swiftly returns me to namba where people are starting to congregate en masse. everyone is here to see The Glico Man. he beckons to me, but i do not answer his call... yet. instead i buy nail polish for my sister from a strange shop inside a strange building, and then i wander into a cafe where i briefly met matilde yesterday. i felt bad for not ordering then, so i guess i'm here to make up for that now.

immediately upon entry, the familiar chime of "irrashaimase!" is combined with a new word that hits my foggy brain like a confusion dart. "otabako?"

there are a few types of travellers:
- ones who do not learn the language whatsoever. no, not even to say hello, sorry, or thank you. i most recently encountered this with an older woman on the bus who loudly said sorry to everyone she walked past. you can at least appreciate that she got the respect part of the culture down, just... translated.
- ones who learn the entire language beforehand so as to prevent even an inkling of miscommunication (you have my heartiest congratulations and my deepest fear)
- ones who learn survival phrases and pick up the rest along the way -- that's my bucket.

after a series of uh... uhmmm.... uhhhhhs.... it is translated into "su-mo-king-u?" and i wave my hand theatrically to say no. the server politely ushers me to the closest seat. water is poured, a hand towel is offered, and the menu is placed within reach. according to japanese google reviewer standards, this place already has at least a 3 star rating. i promptly down a banana chocolate pancake set because i can feel my blood sugar dropping exponentially, and i... do more work.


the rest of the evening follows pretty uneventfully. matilde and i were supposed to eat ramen in fukuoka (apparently that's what it's known for?) but as we're split up, i seek it out on my own here. a short walk through dotonbori takes me to one of several ichiran ramen locations within a 3 block radius.

this one is halal. i want pork. good thing i can walk another 2 minutes to The Pork Location. a quick jaunt along the canal takes me to a bustling spot beneath the bridge where... oh my god. it's The Glico Man again. swarms of people flock along the bridge edge to say hello, to claim a glimpse of his fame... but they will never run as fast nor as far as him. he is untouchable.


while i'm waiting in line, a grilled meat stand right next door is blaring Boom Boom Boom Boom! by Vengaboys while a mother films her daughter eating a meat skewer for social media content. the vibes in dotonbori are simply immaculate.

in praise of ichiran ramen:

a clipboard full of ordering papers gets passed down the line. choose your broth. choose your garlic level. choose your spice level. choose your noodle thickness. green onions, yes or no? pass the papers down the line. wait your turn. pay at a screen. wait your turn. sit in your assigned single-person booth. wait your turn. a worker arrives, briefly, to retrieve your order paper. wait your turn. a bowl of ramen arrives swiftly and... hold on. to my surprise, the worker bows after placing the bowl of ramen down. no, not a standard bow. he keeps going further and further -- my god, he's past 90° now. the deference astonishes me to the point where i need to, no, i MUST eat this entire bowl of ramen lest i let him down.


it's the best goddamn ramen i've ever had in my life.


there's also a sign posted right at eye level announcing part-time jobs available! work as little as one hour a week! paid time off, health insurance, the whole deal! i am tempted briefly before i remember i don't live here, and then i feel a little sad.

i go home.

I'm usually a B-side person. "Total Life Forever" by Foals? The back half rocks it. "Low" by David Bowie? That Side B, man. Smiths, Belle and Sebastian, they live or die by the second song on the single. I'd even say Aja has a better Side B than A. Sequencing often puts the more contemplative and "jam session" tracks on the back. We had some fun, now the night is ending ("Last Night" by Moby also fits here, actually.) I love it a lot when a track fades in an outtake after a song's over to continue painting the mood ("Beautiful" by Belle and Sebastian, the perpetual "Indian Ocean" by the Field Mice, I think "Hey Bulldog" does?) It's like you're exhausting yourself in a feeling.

I often need to exhaust myself. Neurosis is, after all, about setting up arenas for the remedy of an issue. I push myself until I can't. Then I sleep. That is to say, I've been continuing to do things even as my body is sad. We split up again. I did want to go to Hiroshima. When I woke up, I was very glad I did not. I felt tremendously poor. I had a stress dream, which I might recapitulate in a moment. I needed more sleep but I wasn't going to get it. Eventually, I got myself to the cafe we went to at the start of the month, walking a kilometre or so, then realising I forgot my wallet, going home and then coming back with it, wasting like 40 minutes in the process. They were nice and remembered my order and said welcome back and all.

Then I decided to go to the same Brooklyn Roasting Company because besides coworking spaces, only an American cafe is going to make you feel like you can sit here forever. Everywhere else is small with the seating, and you can get the sense that you are being patiently tolerated. Maybe that's my anxiety. At this place they like volunteer, "hey Here's The Wifi, hop to it" etc., and there's tables upon tables with outlets for this explicit purpose where there's nothing but expats. I'm not weird here. People will stop looking at me so much. I go a little crazy from being looked at. I also think I am getting to be a bit lonely. This is what I think the slump phase is, of honeymoon/slump/adaptation. I'm different enough to be a curiosity, but ultimately alone with my thoughts. The words can't meet anyone. I could try, but it will push against the designated tolerance of others. There's never been so many people in one place, so it's strange to reach out to anyone in particular -- I kind of miss this about Kushimoto. I suddenly remember that when I politely thanked our host for the sake I swear he said "tasukete" under his breath. I don't know what he meant. Maybe that I am being so polite that I won't relax? (Apparently they don't ever use polite speech?)

Anyway. I decided to pick up some stuff I kept thinking about getting today. I didn't want to walk too much, but I did. It's a Saturday, though; downtown is just ridiculous. I kept wondering: why is everyone else here, of all places?
I kept thinking about the time I've spent in New York: did I ever see this much camera, this much recording? People took photos, sure? Did they livestream themselves eating takoyaki or doing the Glico gesture? As I might've said, when we accidentally visited a tea house we were interrupted by someone filming a YouTube video hyping it up in real time, uh, in Chinese. When I met up with some internet friends the other day they kept having their 2 year-old kids photographed by tourists and were trying to stop people doing that. I remember in Nagoya there was this wall of books in the mall that said "Do Not Photograph" and literally everyone going up the stairs to see it took a photograph anyway. I started casually posing in place as I walked down the stairs for the photographer. Do people at home often just livestream themselves with a selfie stick walking through a store? -- I suddenly realise how all these "walking around Tokyo" videos exist: there is an endless forest of people just recording the moment for some unknown person. Or maybe everyone is just like this.
I started making a playlist for the trip in a haze the other day. I tried to take music that was often playing, reminiscent of the mood, of conversations, of the tone. I keep sequencing stuff on and off of it, sometimes things feel wrong in retrospect or I'm not capturing something right. I keep thinking about whether or not to include Modest Mouse, because it reminds me of how my first girlfriend when I was like, 16, thought it was like a ridiculously boyish fascination where I'd get really into it. So I feel sort of embarrassed but also not, because I just genuinely like it, but it doesn't quite fit, but it does because so many songs are reflective travel pieces. Jury's out there.

I've been stressed out with some hotel stuff in Tokyo between interminable communication problems and some slightly-sketchy requirements and now they refuse to reimburse me due to their "after 2 hours, you're Fucked" policy. I am trying to not eat ~$450. This has been in the back of my mind literally the entire day. Otherwise, I answered emails, listened to podcasts, and reflected on how the eyes are a weapon.

rebecca's epic ramen @ The Pork Location is definitely going in the recap episode.

maru wrote: Sat Sep 21, 2024 5:59 am I kept thinking about the time I've spent in New York: did I ever see this much camera, this much recording? People took photos, sure? Did they livestream themselves eating takoyaki or doing the Glico gesture? As I might've said, when we accidentally visited a tea house we were interrupted by someone filming a YouTube video hyping it up in real time, uh, in Chinese. When I met up with some internet friends the other day they kept having their 2 year-old kids photographed by tourists and were trying to stop people doing that. I remember in Nagoya there was this wall of books in the mall that said "Do Not Photograph" and literally everyone going up the stairs to see it took a photograph anyway. I started casually posing in place as I walked down the stairs for the photographer. Do people at home often just livestream themselves with a selfie stick walking through a store? -- I suddenly realise how all these "walking around Tokyo" videos exist: there is an endless forest of people just recording the moment for some unknown person. Or maybe everyone is just like this.

The two kinds of tourist I have in my head are the American and British, and while the former is a sort of ubiquitous stereotype, some hawaiian shirt wearing guy with sunscreen, big glasses, big camera, dragging bags around, I think the latter is more unusual. Has a sort of similar shape and outfit but usually goes to really specific places like spain and doesnt learn the language and sticks to specific 'containment' areas that almost exclusively speak english and have british stuff everywhere. Almost like home away from home. Sorta calling into question why one would leave home at all.

Tourism to Japan seems like its for the former type, its about going to the place to get a sort of vertical slice, but then, people seem confused about why you'd be going anywhere except the touristy places. and its hard to imagine a place in japan that does the latter home away from home deal, but im definitely unfamiliar. maybe thats how the people who live there conceptualize the tourist traps, as containment.

maru wrote: Sat Sep 21, 2024 5:59 am I started making a playlist for the trip in a haze the other day. I tried to take music that was often playing, reminiscent of the mood, of conversations, of the tone.

If you end up putting together a playlist you like, you should post it at the end!! I'd put modest mouse in there. but then id put all sorts of crazy shit on a playlist regardless of how out of place it might feel.

So far, yeah I just ate the money. What if I had booked the whole month? I guess in those cases you don't normally take non-refundable-after-2-hours-clauses.

Still in Osaka today. Did you know a lot of people on r/japantravel or whatever really think Osaka isn't that great, not even worth a day, and why not spend 2 weeks in beautiful Kyoto? I get it -- you're trying to Get Everything Important Done. I have five minutes on this earth. If I don't see enough things, I'll have nothing to watch when my memories are on repeat forever in the infinite void. (They even say like "don't hike. Not enough time. Cab from shrine to shrine." There are 400 shrines in Kyoto.)

I keep finding new things in Osaka, even though so much stuff is built around Namba. Osaka is sick. Big fan of Osaka. There is a whole area of town doing the Akihabara thing. I decided to go there.

It's a surprisingly rainy day. We had some rain in Tokyo weeks ago, but besides sunshowers it's been barren a lot of the time. Even though I continually got pretty soaked even under the umbrella I felt happy to be outside. Dude, it's like 23 degrees.

We parked a little at the same old coffee shop to work. I got a hotel for a bonus day in Tokyo (meaning Sat+Sun we have lodging there, checking out Mon 30 to fly out that evening).

Then after eating something, checking messages, etc. I felt like heading over. It's like a few minutes away, why not?

I'm not sure if I actually want anything. I have talked myself in and out of weird video game stuff over the years. I have a Game Boy Micro from years back. I have a New 3DS LL I use as a GBA+DS+3DS game centre. I have almost bought a PS Vita twice, then didn't. The few Vita games I want to play are JP releases and I ended up collecting the ROMs on my Steam Deck. I talk myself out of the Analogue Pocket every 6 weeks when they email me to say I can buy one now. Still, if I found the right time, the right thing ... it wouldn't be so bad ...

The first thing I see in the neighbourhood is the same-old-same-old anime billboards.
Wait, "same old"? When did I start thinking this was normal? I guess day in day out you see My Hero Academia lifesize cutouts off the subway, you use anime as an art form in ads, the banks do live action cosplay for Kiki's Delivery Service playing on loop on the actual cars themselves ... it feels less distinguished as weeb-town because it's just a mode of expression. These are just mascot girls for the stores, because stores have mascot girls. That's just obvious.

And when I go in, and they have shelf after shelf of otaku stuff I recognise and it's like not really that expensive, it feels a bit more normal over time, too. I caught myself noticing I was coming across "rare finds" over and over just because it would otherwise be bizarre to find the Ever17 OST brand new for $8 at Saint-Michel or whatever. Boxed copies of Leaf games over and over (in the erogame section ... I don't know enough about Key and Leaf clearly ...) Fate merch is downright ubiquitous. Fate has its own section in the CD rack. Touhou has a third of the doujin section to itself. That's just obvious and normal.

You know what isn't there? Basically anything of the 2000s anime culture I am perpetually stuck in. I could not find anything .hack. You will never find Excel Saga, people won't know what that is, it's like Takeshi's Castle. Even my sicko love of Subahibi had no objection of admiration to itself.

All this to say: I went to the store with very erotic comics, and indeed they were very erotic. I skimmed it at first; Rebecca came back later and we just ... went through so much of it. So much flesh. So many regular looking middle aged guys just casually picking out their doujins to take home. (You ever see how Satoshi Kon drew guys?) I couldn't imagine coming across my bro here, like finding out we both shop at /d/ or something. "Ah, I see."

Once I was outside again, the rain cleared up a little and suddenly there were tons of girls in maid outfits handing out flyers. -- We've seen girls in maid outfits standing on the corner near our place on the weekends later into the night and more and more of them would start standing together. At first it was just one who was always uncomfortably fielding a guy or two asking something, now it was like four or five. We kept wondering: what are they selling, exactly? Can't see a maid cafe anywhere near here. Their signs have hourly rates. Over time the maid outfit has gotten a bit of a prostitution feel to it now, like if I see a girl in a maid outfit it looks like she's going to work. There's maid massage parlours, after all. But for the everything else, what's the hourly rate for?!

The actual maid cafes in Denden had lineups out the door, mostly of girls, also in cosplay (lolita stuff). I am interminably American and therefore anything other than the pretence of egalitarianism, like we're friends in a briefly transactional relatoinship, makes me feel uncomfortable. We often try to carry trays back to a home but they usually don't do that. Let them handle it etc.

I ended up meandering south a little and went looking for CDs. I keep trying to find Yasuaki Shimizu, but no dice. The used stores have very deep pulls, usually a lot of cool ECM records on CD or vinyl, hell I saw Aja for like $5, that's nice. Flipper's Guitar for $7, that's a classic. It's like everyone is your cool friend -- jazz, yacht rock and only the finest Japanese pop -- but that's just because we imported this taste for the hipsters, I guess.

Walking back up I came across the Windows Tower. The Windows Tower. You know. The Windows Tower. The dilapidated 1970s casino looking Windows Tower.
Then, over dinner we sat and discussed if it would be fun or stupid to go all "challenge mode" and go to Tokyo early, shove our stuff into lockers and try to slum it in various manga cafes or capsule hotels overnight. Destructive vs. protective impulses are clashing.

Everything makes sense now.
There are indeed towns where there are just deer everywhere. There is Nara. But first, there is Hōzan-ji. That's right: we went to a Buddhist temple! In ... Mozencho? It's a distinct village within Ikoma, but I have a hard time pinning it down. A lot of stores merely just said Ikoma, but Ikoma is pretty big.

Anyway. Let's just reverse a little and start over.

After a relatively brief train from our place, we arrived at a crossroads station in Nara that led to a cable car station. We had just missed a lantern festival at this same temple, but we were surprised to see lanterns in the station itself. Same ones?
The cable cars themselves are decorated as a dog and a cat named Bull and Mike. The top of the line goes to a theme park for kids, apparently, and a lot of families piled into the cable car as it played "she'll be coming around the mountain" on the way up. Incidentally, you hear a lot of American traditional folk songs as jingles in stations and stores.
We got off at the first stop and then started climbing up the town of Mozen-machi or Mozencho or Ikoma or ... and everyone was friendly and nice, nodding hello as we climbed up the stairs leading to the temple at the top.
The temple itself was massive -- with lots of parallel shrines further up the climb. We kept scaling but after a while it became long stairs lined with graves wearing red bibs. Even though it was serene and beautiful, I felt strange using the dead for aesthetics, so I stopped taking photos for a lot of the temple stay.

The way back down we got a bit closer to the front; we gave up our seats to an elderly woman and a mom and her kid and just took the moment in, instead.
Then we pulled into Nara Park proper. And yeah, deer.
There's so many of them, and they're inordinately friendly. They sit and sleep and wait for humans to bring them food like it's conveyor sushi; the ones walking around walk up to you and literally bow back to you if you bow hello. This is apparently a learned behaviour around here -- it was pretty common to see, but a lot of people do bow first, so it's not unusual that they sometimes bow first, instead. *bow* Cracker please? Etc.

Then you get the fighting game tutorial for the deer's moveset, if you want that.
We followed the park toward more shrines, coming across a massive crowd in the process. Nara is a tourist attraction that felt about as popular as Kyoto was, honestly. Schoolchildren come to the temple. Americans come to the temple. Brits come to the temple. Italians come to the temple. Couples come to the temple. Single people come to the temple. So great is the power of the Buddha.
On the way to another shrine we saw a mountain as tall as Mount Royal in Montreal with people lined up to picnic at the city's peak. It was getting to be kind of late in the day though and Rebecca wanted to get there before it closed, as we are, after all, on a quest here.
But we made it in time. I don't know. I don't have that many insights today! I'm both exhausted (my body is not quite fully recovered and I have a wet cough) but also feeling like I was happily experiencing the moment. It was a cute day. I'll write more another time, probably.

Rebecca went back to Kyoto today. I felt so wiped out last night that I thought ... I can't do a huge hike with tons of people. I want to go into the countryside again. I want to wander. I want to be whimsical. So after zooming in on the map I found a cute cafe and thought, well, I'm going to go there today. I'm going to go to Yoshino.
Yoshino is a mountain town. A day trip from Osaka, really; people normally go for the cherry blossom season, but otherwise it's just a hike location. A mountain town accessible by cable car. The cafe isn't quite in Yoshino itself -- it's a station or two away, but it caught my eye on Google because of all the praise and the food in question being Japanese-style western cuisine, a concept I was introduced to only the other week.

I already fucked up within an hour -- I tried taking a Limited Express, but it was full. A train was leaving in the general direction immediately, so I just recklessly took it. An hour later, I looked at my map and saw that I had veered onto another line halfway through the trip and had to backtrack. (I made a note that I had to skip the detour back to get really fancy hot dogs and heart-rending renditions of Beatles songs, now -- it seems unlikely to make it before a 1700 close an entire other town away afterward.)

Eventually though, as the English guidance on the voiceover stopped, people stepped off until it was an empty train, and it settled in front of the supposed cafe.
(I didn't have any funds on my IC card, and there was nowhere in the station after the gate to refill it, so I hopped the turnstile to recharge my card, then hopped back in to exit.)

If you use Google to look for directions, it'll say it's a 33 minute walk as you follow suburban roads up and around the station; in reality, though, there's a forest path on your immediate right, and after a small hike you just get there in 10 minutes. It's just ... not necessarily flagged well.
Once the forest flattened out and it looked like a town again, I seemed to be in someone's backyard. I could hear goats. I walked up a few steps and saw a temple -- that wasn't it -- so I went back down and walked toward the house, hoping I wasn't trespassing. A woman stepped out and asked "are you here for lunch?" I said, yeah. She was like, oh. Here or outside? I said anywhere was okay. She gestured me inside, where two men were eating cereal. Guests? Not sure -- this place apparently used to be an Airbnb, but now I don't know. One of the men put a coaster down for me and said "welcome," so probably not.

Then she gave me a menu with one item -- the lunch set -- and went to work. The guys meandered into corners, turned on music and lights -- I thought the place was closed because of that... -- and then sat in front of a computer. I felt like I was in someone's house who just decided she'd cook for anyone who showed up.
The food arrived and she asked if I wanted coffee or tea, then asked if I wanted it after the meal or now. She then went and brewed a pot, right then right there, as I politely ate. It was a cute and good meal, gratin and matcha bread and a salad.
Another man walked in and said hello to me and as goats bleated he seemed to have a letter and they seemed to just talk about it to each other -- not in secret, but openly, like it was just another day at home. She asked me questions, but my Japanese is bad -- mostly, like, "so ... do you live here? Study here? Just visiting?" I said I'm in Osaka, going to Yoshino. "So you live in Yoshino?" Ah, no, I'm Canadian. Then she said ohhh... and said she's the wife of one of the men here who's a monk -- this is a temple -- and sometimes they lodge French and Australian people. She wished me well and said to be careful. Then I just quietly meandered down the mountain and back to the station.
The rest of the trip went fast. Yoshino, like the last station, was deserted. Only train staff.
There were booths with ice cream -- staffed, but no customers. The cable car? Not running, it only does on the weekends. A man in a bus drove some women down. I pointed at the bus and then up and he shook his head and gave me a map with tons of directions on how to get up the mountain. I nodded pensively and then said,

「わかりません、でも、頑張れます。」

He nodded and then left. I started up the mountain by foot.
There's a combination of staircases and winding roads -- the latter mostly for cars, and since it's a single lane with two lanes of traffic, cars are often backing up to let each other through. It makes being a person on the road even more awkward, but there are times you can only really follow the road. It flattens out, though, leading to the start of the town itself.
The town was a little odd. Don't get me wrong: it's not a ghost town. But besides occasionally pairs of people hiking through, it's a really quiet place. The stores are open, but they're dark inside. There's antiques -- or souvenirs? -- sake tasting and ice cream, but it's just sort of lying in wait. People come, right? It's just a really slow day.

The road started winding and opening up to show a sea of trees, divvying up the town a little.
Once it started hitting 1500 I felt like I could keep scaling the mountain, but I was playing with fire: I had to get back to Osaka, and it's a 2 hour train, and I have to get off the mountain to get there. I ended up getting back to the station by 1600 so that we could have a normal dinner time at 1800 or so. But first I stopped by a shrine -- a racist heritage site or something. It was also ... empty. Just two gardeners trimming trees, a stunning array of wishes with anime art and a gaze into what must be dizzying in cherry blossom season: is this whole thing pink?
Then I walked back down, to find the sun was out and the sky tinted new colours. Not that anyone appeared; it was just crickets the whole time.
And ... so back down the mountain I went. It felt like a long time, but only because I had no idea what to expect. Once mapped, the fog of war evaporates, leaving just a short walk.
After getting a deluxe ticket on a very 19c themed sightseeing car, I was back in Osaka before the sun was even down. I'm going to miss being able to do that.
After all, what's the furthest you've gone in a day, round trip? All these day trips take us to and from the literal station in front of our house -- it all connects, from the local lines to the broader cross-country lines. Regional trips are $10-20, cross-prefectural gets into $40ish+, Tokyo to Osaka is like $150 (ow). But everything stays in the 90m to 2h range, you know? It's all day trippable, if you want to.

I really liked being able to explore alone -- though I guess I wish I saw more casual friendliness and chatter, but that's what you get with no host, no guide and no stays a tany restaurants. Just walking through and one person tried to give me directions, so that was nice enough, I suppose.

maru wrote: Tue Sep 24, 2024 9:32 am (I didn't have any funds on my IC card, and there was nowhere in the station after the gate to refill it, so I hopped the turnstile to recharge my card, then hopped back in to exit.)

This is a fantastic little anecdote that speaks to your character.

Solo exploration has always felt very spiritually fulfilling to me. I think the loneliness of it makes the world seem a bit more strange and mystical and somehow far away but very immediate? When I walk around with friends I'm always super focused on our conversation and often forget things.

Also you have some gorgeous photos and good photography skills.

I hope to see more updates! <3

This has relatively stabilised so I will share the playlist I made. It is called 関西の9月 (a night's sunflower).



The core list is here, but you can also find a version on YouTube here. I tried making one on Spotify, but it was missing two or three songs and it felt like those were key songs!

The art is made in GIMP from a mixture of two or three photos from the trip layered on top of a frame of anime (one was the moonlit night that recoloured the hand, then the Tsukimi viewing itself formed the backdrop, and merging the two created a weird inversion effect that I then re-chroma'd over a partial selection of the colour).

The track choices range from "we talked about this song before leaving" (opening), to the way things Felt (aori + Relax), the predominance of the Beatles, mentioning specific artists in conversation, the general way we felt as the month went on, the way temples sounded (Ishiura) and then feeling kinda empty and tired like a whole life happened.

Last weekend in Tokyo, now.

We're in Tokyo today and tomorrow, then we fly out Monday evening. So that could even be like a half day. I only really know Tokyo from, like, Atlas video games. So while we're in Ochanomizu right now, I'm like, "oh, right! Ochanomizu!"
It's a pattern the past month, right? It's the world we only know through screens. It's sorta like how Faye Wong thinks about California in Chungking Express, or how people think about New York generally. The architecture looks familiar. They decorate themselves endlessly in things I only see on zerochan or whatever. I got distracted by a store because they just idly had a Persona 3 poster that I was using as a phone background. It was just there.

The mood lately has been exhaustion, kind of burnt out. Japan'd out. Friends ask how I am -- I say "it's sorta like several lifetimes of stuff happened." But it's not quite true -- it's sorta like, three different trips happened. You can spend a month in Tokyo and not see everything. You could do a semester in Nagoya. You could live in Osaka, it's such a good city. We went to all these different places -- I only had two "don't explore" days this month (days <10km walked) and they were because I got sick, or, it was my birthday. We have spent basically all day every day together for longer than I have with anyone. It's not weird to ... slow it down, really.

I explored Akihabara a bit today. The vibe is bizarre; it's like if you took Denden Town and then 10x'd the maid cafe presence, and every other store was a computer store where the prices are about the same as home. Granted -- they do have a lot of Panasonic Let's notes with the circular trackpad and those aren't too pricy. I saw X1 Carbons for fairly less money than I paid for mine, though a lot less new. The used game stores had a huge selection if you like JP exclusives. I was hunting for Fate/stay night for the PS2, just to have the box. There was one copy in a shop for $30. Aw. (Saw Kanon and Clannad a lot too.)
The shops all had names like this, and the maids on the street are omnipresent, calling Welcome! and getting you to come in. I feel for anyone doing this work -- still, I have an irrational fear of maids right now. It's like when I see a nun. I think they're gonna kick me or find me unworthy. I will not see a therapist.
Around from the hotel is a German bakery -- and it really is German. I came in and Konnichiwa'd him and he said it back, then he got closer, smiled and said ... guten tag.



He only used German the rest of the transaction (a really nice blaubeerkuchen). Do I look German, now? Is it simply my un-Japanese-ness that means, oh sick we can talk German?

After getting a Shin Rizumu CD (this one, a CD-R release and one nobody has, I guess) and this lovely CD player, we checked in and I conked out a little and then decided to pick up a shirt I've only ever seen out here -- a single store sells them; they're mostly a South Korean designer brand.
Then I decided to make my way to Shibuya.
No, no it doesn't look like that. It has way more people. At least, once you get there. Walking up from the south, it was surprisingly quiet.
Then you turn a corner.
And another corner...
Suddenly, the city is here. I'd describe the density of Hachiko Square as like being in a packed concert. I don't know how you meet anyone here or do anything. But seeing this many people in one place is sort of overwhelming.
Not sure what the plan is for tomorrow yet. It was supposed to rain all weekend; it's just been extremely humid instead. If it does come down, I'm not sure what I'd do with myself ... I kind of want to see Ikebukuro for its own sake, maybe Shinjuku for its own sake ... if there's a more literary corner, I'd be interested in that, too.

Getting some dinner from the Family Mart a kid ran ahead to the counter and her dad was like no no, onee-san is ahead of you. Which is the first time I've been called that. I wasn't even aware people called strangers like that in third person...

I've been in Montreal again for a few days now. We landed September 30 at 17:00ish, after flying out at September 30 at 17:00ish, so that was a weird experience.

On the last day in Tokyo I went up to Ikebukuro and walked through Shinjuku into Shibuya. I went to the closest cafe that seemed like they had breakfast — they only had Hamburg steak, for some reason. A cat robot brought me my meal. I quietly said thank you to the robot and ate my meat.
I arbitrarily decided to go to Tower Records since I wasn't happy with the CD load. It was a cloudy day that quickly became rainy, but it was nice to just walk through Tokyo for hours and just watch the world go by. I love that every time I went to Tokyo, it ended up raining.
The city ended up feeling intriguing and different: clean, anonymous, quiet but loud, organised. I think you could spend a whole trip here, especially if you had friends in town to show you underground events. Still, I was happy I spent the month in Osaka. It ended up feeling like home.

We met up around 3 or 4pm to move to our last hotel (we had to book different hotels for different days). This one was in Kiba, which ended up feeling really remote and quiet, even though it's fairly close to downtown. The hotel itself was an older place — reviews complained about no air conditioning, but it had it when we were there. We finally had a view, which was a bittersweet thing for the last day.
Then, on Sunday night at 21:30, suddenly Monogatari comes on TV. This is basic cable. Basic cable includes Monogatari in Japan. This feels bizarre to me.
We kept the TV on and ate a practical buffet of convenience store food and just took it easy. Tower of God came on. Junji Ito Maniac came on. The deer show came on at ... 23:30 on a Sunday night? Isn't it a slice of life??

Then the next day, after watching some TVO Kids dubbed entertainment (they air Ontario children's programming with Japanese dubs? Why??) we did our final chores and went to the airport. I began to feel sadness and dread. I couldn't put my finger on it. We did some laps through the duty-free, but it was a lot of the same stuff you find anywhere: Metacil pencils, the tourist stuff, Pokemon plushies, Hi-Fi and electronic equipment that honestly just costs the same in Canada (though the other day in Akihabara I found some cool Roland headphones, I just couldn't see what I'd do with them).

Air Canada's whole preamble video for safety is meant to like showcase Beautiful Canada and the Japan flights have Japanese subtitles. It made for an intriguing combination.
13 hours later, after finishing The Sopranos season 1 and listening to a few records, we were home. I felt drained and resigned. Customs was more or less easy. Cabs took an age to get there — it's weirdly busy at the moment — but my Uber driver was a really kind Quebecois man who spent his university years in Tokyo and kept telling me to watch Shogun. He was just patiently like "welcome home". Canadians always say this when I get back and it always makes me feel better.

Did groceries. Unpacked. My sleeping is really messed up, where I sleep and get up for 5-6 hours at a time in a rotating schedule. I struggle to really understand why I did this trip. It was mostly for its own sake — the only thing that I felt like I desired in life was to see Japan. And I did, and then some. We ended up feeling almost like we saw Too Much Japan, like we went so far into the deep end and for so long that we got homesick early? Tokyo is gentler: you can basically get by in mostly English, there's a ton of expats and tourists and more genderweirds than outside of it. It feels like a city you can just fly into and hang out in, like you would New York or London or something. It feels like a part of the broader world. On the contrary: we wanted to get lost in the Japan-ness of Japan, and we really did. I got drunk on it. I feel homesick for canned coffee, for the trains and the walking. For God's sake, I even miss the hot humid weather. It's 13 degrees here.

I tried for a bit to use the same eyes on Montreal: we have so much I haven't seen. Why not just take a bus 2 hours north for no reason? Why not go into the countryside where, yet again, there's no English, and eat traditional cuisine and struggle to explain why you went there? I think for the sake of trial, I should do so a few times just to keep the curiosity alive. Otherwise: I'm going to New York soon, so I'll be on the road. Then I go to Charleston, SC.

I keep mixing up my foreign languages now. I "hai. hai. hai."d people knocking on my door informing me about their lost cat in French. I switch into JP expressions and do the hand thing up to your head where you say "no no it's okay" and bow.

The fog of war lifted on the map. Japan feels like a place I can just go now. I am not sure how much I want to go. It felt natural, the place I've seen my whole life, just Real, the dream land I walked through. And yet it felt different. It was scarier and less familiar than I thought — but hey, I'd only been to the US and Germany. I felt out of my element, aware of sticking out, more insecure about not conforming to the way everyone else looks, Other, and though I've become used to be a linguistic minority in Montreal, it's much more the case there, too.

Is it weird that I got more appreciation for what I am? I feel more of an identity of myself as a Canadian in a different place than I did at home. I felt more proud that I came from the place I did, that I can dress the way I do, that I can live the way I do, because I know that it can be different.

And I'm happy I did it. I'm happy I wrote about it here. I'm happy I took so many photos. I'm happy I ended up going to so many different towns, too. I just have to remember the life I had before, now. It feels like someone else's life.