The last couple of days have been spent on the 4000 islands- a collection of far less than 4000 Islands on the Mekong river. Electricity was from 6-10, there was no internet, we went on treks (i.e walks, but quite hot), traveled in boats and ate fresh Laos farm produce. It was all very healthy and idyllic.
I'm now in Pakse which is a dusty town in the heart of coffee growing territory. We traveled here in some very dubious vehicles- first a rickety canoe with a tacked on motor, then a very cramped bus with a lizard, some chickens and two piglets in a big brown bag.
It was great fun! Wish you were here. All of you.
Saturday, 31 May 2008
Tuesday, 27 May 2008
Off to Laos (a brief update)
I spent the last few days in Siem Reip looking round the Angkor temples, which were frankly amazing. The magnitude and intricacy of some of those structures defies belief and jumping round the ancient rocks made me feel quite the young Indiana Jones. I did have a few reservations. It was a bit touristified in certain areas (although not nearly as bad as it could have been) and, on top of that, outside every temple we were accosted by hundreds of junk-selling small children. I also wish I knew far more of the history of Angkor than I do. Maybe something to study next year? I'll have to have another read of the Archaeology syllabus.
Today was filled by a rather taxing eight hour bus ride to Kratie- an old, middle-of-nowhere, colonial town close to the Laos boarder. Tomorrow we head of to Laos to read text books on an Island. My 'nerdy' ideal of heaven really.
I'd like to write more but am totally blasted from the bus journey. Also, the price of the internet goes up every 15 minutes and while half an hour is more than enough for a blog entry I hate the 'rushed' feeling.
My camera is filled with good temple pictures, so hopefully I'll find an easy way to upload those in the near future. I'll try and write again soon but I don't know if I'll have web access on the islands so can make no promises!
Today was filled by a rather taxing eight hour bus ride to Kratie- an old, middle-of-nowhere, colonial town close to the Laos boarder. Tomorrow we head of to Laos to read text books on an Island. My 'nerdy' ideal of heaven really.
I'd like to write more but am totally blasted from the bus journey. Also, the price of the internet goes up every 15 minutes and while half an hour is more than enough for a blog entry I hate the 'rushed' feeling.
My camera is filled with good temple pictures, so hopefully I'll find an easy way to upload those in the near future. I'll try and write again soon but I don't know if I'll have web access on the islands so can make no promises!
Friday, 23 May 2008
Khmer Red
Most countries have not been without their share of atrocities but Cambodia's amoung the worst. From 1975-1979 Pol Pot's brutal regime stormed Cambodia, imprisoning, killing and forcing the luckier people into 'collective farms' /labour camps. The crimes meriting death applied to almost everyone (scroll down to "Alleged Crimes against humanity" for the blow by blow account) and 2,000,000 out of the countries 7 million population had either starved to death, worked to death of been executed by the time of the Khmer Rouge's fall.
As one of the categories fit for execution was 'former urban dwellers' the people of Cambodia's capital Phnom Pehn bore the brunt of the Rouge's genocide. The entire population of the city was shipped out to the killing fields and, if lucky, shot or imprisoned/executed in one of Pehn's detention camps. Yesterday I visited Toul Sleng, the biggest and most infamous camp in the city. To say the experience was harrowing is to cheapen it.
Once a school, Toul Sleng was converted into a prison camp at the beginning of the regime and soon became the head quarters of 'S-21', the Khmer Rouge secret police. The few large school buildings, neatly placed round two square courtyards were deceptively pretty. Flowers, tall palms and sunshine disguised the horrors within. Though most of the school was split into minature cells, the rooms in the first building remained unconverted and must have been used for the more important inmates. Their status obviously didn't help them end and next to each bed was a black and white photo of it's inhabitant's fate. I shan't go into any details about these pictures but if they had been coloured I wouldn't have been able to look at them. Less important prisoners were housed in the second building which had been completely restructured by the Rouge into hundreds of tiny dank cells. On the walls of some were tallys counting the number of days imprisoned. Mercifully, few of the tallys ran very long....
The buildings on the second courtyard were mainly dedicated to photographs of the hundreds murdered. The killing ended less than 30 years ago and the rows of reasonably modern looking hair cuts really brought home the fact that these were real people. A fact further driven in by the piles of discarded clothes and finally the shelves of mutilated human skulls. Three rooms on, I heard a guide telling the story of the execution of her family and her deportation to the country, next were all the torture devices collected from the facility, then came paintings done by one of Sleng's seven survivors depicting thumb screw torture, inmates being hung with hooks from their flesh, upside down corpses stacked in jars, one with his hips and legs completely removed, teams of blindfolded men being led to their destruction and other scenes too dreadful to remember. Perhaps thankfull this was a bit too much for the lass I'd taken with me and she rushed on ahead meaning I didn't have time to give the captions much attention.
There was a film which I would also have liked to stay longer and watch. Such horrors should be seen, should be remembered. Alas I was dragged away- hell hath no fury than a woman horrified. Should have done movies and theme parks I guess...
This was yesterday. Today I had a massage by the blind, bought a casio watch with disco lights and tomorrow I'm off to marvel at Ankor Wat- all very happy and not at all genocidal. I hope that's cheered you up.
As one of the categories fit for execution was 'former urban dwellers' the people of Cambodia's capital Phnom Pehn bore the brunt of the Rouge's genocide. The entire population of the city was shipped out to the killing fields and, if lucky, shot or imprisoned/executed in one of Pehn's detention camps. Yesterday I visited Toul Sleng, the biggest and most infamous camp in the city. To say the experience was harrowing is to cheapen it.
Once a school, Toul Sleng was converted into a prison camp at the beginning of the regime and soon became the head quarters of 'S-21', the Khmer Rouge secret police. The few large school buildings, neatly placed round two square courtyards were deceptively pretty. Flowers, tall palms and sunshine disguised the horrors within. Though most of the school was split into minature cells, the rooms in the first building remained unconverted and must have been used for the more important inmates. Their status obviously didn't help them end and next to each bed was a black and white photo of it's inhabitant's fate. I shan't go into any details about these pictures but if they had been coloured I wouldn't have been able to look at them. Less important prisoners were housed in the second building which had been completely restructured by the Rouge into hundreds of tiny dank cells. On the walls of some were tallys counting the number of days imprisoned. Mercifully, few of the tallys ran very long....
The buildings on the second courtyard were mainly dedicated to photographs of the hundreds murdered. The killing ended less than 30 years ago and the rows of reasonably modern looking hair cuts really brought home the fact that these were real people. A fact further driven in by the piles of discarded clothes and finally the shelves of mutilated human skulls. Three rooms on, I heard a guide telling the story of the execution of her family and her deportation to the country, next were all the torture devices collected from the facility, then came paintings done by one of Sleng's seven survivors depicting thumb screw torture, inmates being hung with hooks from their flesh, upside down corpses stacked in jars, one with his hips and legs completely removed, teams of blindfolded men being led to their destruction and other scenes too dreadful to remember. Perhaps thankfull this was a bit too much for the lass I'd taken with me and she rushed on ahead meaning I didn't have time to give the captions much attention.
There was a film which I would also have liked to stay longer and watch. Such horrors should be seen, should be remembered. Alas I was dragged away- hell hath no fury than a woman horrified. Should have done movies and theme parks I guess...
This was yesterday. Today I had a massage by the blind, bought a casio watch with disco lights and tomorrow I'm off to marvel at Ankor Wat- all very happy and not at all genocidal. I hope that's cheered you up.
Tuesday, 20 May 2008
Pehn Palls
You'll all be glad to hear that I've arrived safe and sound in Phnom Pehn, the capital of Cambodia. The city is an interesting mix of Indian style anarchy and decaying parisian charm. Garbage, motorcycles and stray dogs jostle in the wide roads and people barter in dirty shops built under the decaying boulevards.
The first two days with Justin were a touch strained for both of us. Neither had had much sleep and we both lamented the loss of the freedom afforded to those traveling solo- I spent half the time doing my best Marvin the paranoid andriod impression and the other half on cloud nine. Justin found coping with my continuous mood swings almost as hard as I did! Last night, however, both of us had a good nine hours sleep and today was refreshingly jocular and chirpy.
There's so so so much I could say. However I have little time and have ingested a little too much dubious whisky so I'm afraid I'll have to keep things short and succinct.
-Phnom Pehn is a little shocking after Japan and I'm quite full of Japanese home sickness (assuming such a thing exists). Combodje is more expensive than I'd hoped and in the last few days I've had to spend almost eighty pounds on visas, bike helmets and other necessities. I'm hoping that things will cheapen up soon but it could be hard to stay on budget. My fingers are crossed.
-The people are very friendly although, like in India, very keep to strip me of as much money as possible. Luckily Khmers are less tenacious than the people in Hyderabad and get the message if you don't want to spend.
-The scenery is very pretty and our guest house is built on stilts above the river. The splashing of boats in the water and the waving on rice shoots is beautiful. Just don't look too hard and any of the objects floating in the water.
- The other tourists are tiresome and all their time getting stoned watching the TV. It makes me sad to be white.
-On the other hand the people I'm travelling with- Justin and Katie, his friend from the jungle- are great and, in intelligence and wit, more than make up for all the despicable pot heads.
-The food is alright, if you're lucky. Not as good as Thai food though!
- The coffee is really very good!
And I'm afraid that's all I have time for as we're about to head off to 'the heart of darkness', Pehn's deepest, darkest, most dubious night club. I've not had time to proof read this entry at all, so I'm sure it's full of grammar errors. Pick your favorite and post them in the comments box below.
I'll try to give you another update soon if I have time....
Now to the heart, where the shadows lie!
The first two days with Justin were a touch strained for both of us. Neither had had much sleep and we both lamented the loss of the freedom afforded to those traveling solo- I spent half the time doing my best Marvin the paranoid andriod impression and the other half on cloud nine. Justin found coping with my continuous mood swings almost as hard as I did! Last night, however, both of us had a good nine hours sleep and today was refreshingly jocular and chirpy.
There's so so so much I could say. However I have little time and have ingested a little too much dubious whisky so I'm afraid I'll have to keep things short and succinct.
-Phnom Pehn is a little shocking after Japan and I'm quite full of Japanese home sickness (assuming such a thing exists). Combodje is more expensive than I'd hoped and in the last few days I've had to spend almost eighty pounds on visas, bike helmets and other necessities. I'm hoping that things will cheapen up soon but it could be hard to stay on budget. My fingers are crossed.
-The people are very friendly although, like in India, very keep to strip me of as much money as possible. Luckily Khmers are less tenacious than the people in Hyderabad and get the message if you don't want to spend.
-The scenery is very pretty and our guest house is built on stilts above the river. The splashing of boats in the water and the waving on rice shoots is beautiful. Just don't look too hard and any of the objects floating in the water.
- The other tourists are tiresome and all their time getting stoned watching the TV. It makes me sad to be white.
-On the other hand the people I'm travelling with- Justin and Katie, his friend from the jungle- are great and, in intelligence and wit, more than make up for all the despicable pot heads.
-The food is alright, if you're lucky. Not as good as Thai food though!
- The coffee is really very good!
And I'm afraid that's all I have time for as we're about to head off to 'the heart of darkness', Pehn's deepest, darkest, most dubious night club. I've not had time to proof read this entry at all, so I'm sure it's full of grammar errors. Pick your favorite and post them in the comments box below.
I'll try to give you another update soon if I have time....
Now to the heart, where the shadows lie!
Saturday, 17 May 2008
Thaired Out
Three... hours.. sleep. My mental condition is not great but could be worse considering.
Anyway, I'm HERE. I mean, I'm usually here but today I'm HERE in Bangkok and tomorrow I'll be THERE in Phnom Pehn.
First Impressions:
Thailand is a lot nicer looking than India. As expected I got bombarded at the airport by hundreds of people trying to get me to take a ride in their taxi. A good lot of yelling 'METER METER' got me a ride that only cost one quid more it should have been. The taxi driver was a total nutter and for the whole journey he hand-danced with one hand to aweful aweful American pop songs from Thai International Radio. He only stopped his dancing to turn corners, If I'd had the energy I would have been scared witless.
Thailand is a pretty place, with lots of green, pretty flower and wide roads. There might not be seatbelts in the back of cars but at least they use their rear view mirrors unlike some countries I've been too.
Anyway, I think that's all I'm capable of writing without falling asleep on the keyboard so I'm off to find an ATM and a pick-me-up. Another blog entry... eventually.
Anyway, I'm HERE. I mean, I'm usually here but today I'm HERE in Bangkok and tomorrow I'll be THERE in Phnom Pehn.
First Impressions:
Thailand is a lot nicer looking than India. As expected I got bombarded at the airport by hundreds of people trying to get me to take a ride in their taxi. A good lot of yelling 'METER METER' got me a ride that only cost one quid more it should have been. The taxi driver was a total nutter and for the whole journey he hand-danced with one hand to aweful aweful American pop songs from Thai International Radio. He only stopped his dancing to turn corners, If I'd had the energy I would have been scared witless.
Thailand is a pretty place, with lots of green, pretty flower and wide roads. There might not be seatbelts in the back of cars but at least they use their rear view mirrors unlike some countries I've been too.
Anyway, I think that's all I'm capable of writing without falling asleep on the keyboard so I'm off to find an ATM and a pick-me-up. Another blog entry... eventually.
Friday, 16 May 2008
So long and thanks for all the raw fish
Today is my last day in Japan and so this is also my last daily blog entry. I haven't had such a good time in quite a while and really don't want to leave. I've got to rush as the post office shuts soon but I think there's just time for some hurried thanks to all the people who've made Japan a blast.
In no particular order I'd like to thank Yano Noriko, the person who taught me much of the Japanese I know and made the process a pleasure (not to mention treating me to a spectacular day at Fuji). Yoko Chandler for her hours of patient conversation practice which gave me the confidence to use Japanese in real world situations and who I'm truly lucky to have met. Motoko Brimmicombe-Wood who introduced me to Yoko and who's insights into Japanese life and culture have been 'golden'. Mai Hirai-san, who helped organize my accommodation and who'd perfect English and cheery e-mails actually made if fun. Kei Koike who's drive and motivation give him the energy to set up my Japanese school from scratch and who showed me the fantastic Kamakura. And last but not least, Alex Brooke who, on top of the podcasts and the day in Tokyo bay, give me the advice and motivation I needed to make it to Japan.
Every single one of you has spoiled me rotten and I'm truly truly grateful.
Honorable mentions go to Tom, Joel and Ami for being pretty awesome, to my long suffering family for their long suffering and to the next door Malcolm and the Malcom-tachi for the 'good times'. Thanks also to everyone I missed out thanking. You were great and I'm sorry I forgot you. Yes you!
Last but not least, thanks to Japan. For being there.
Next stop: Bangkok
In no particular order I'd like to thank Yano Noriko, the person who taught me much of the Japanese I know and made the process a pleasure (not to mention treating me to a spectacular day at Fuji). Yoko Chandler for her hours of patient conversation practice which gave me the confidence to use Japanese in real world situations and who I'm truly lucky to have met. Motoko Brimmicombe-Wood who introduced me to Yoko and who's insights into Japanese life and culture have been 'golden'. Mai Hirai-san, who helped organize my accommodation and who'd perfect English and cheery e-mails actually made if fun. Kei Koike who's drive and motivation give him the energy to set up my Japanese school from scratch and who showed me the fantastic Kamakura. And last but not least, Alex Brooke who, on top of the podcasts and the day in Tokyo bay, give me the advice and motivation I needed to make it to Japan.
Every single one of you has spoiled me rotten and I'm truly truly grateful.
Honorable mentions go to Tom, Joel and Ami for being pretty awesome, to my long suffering family for their long suffering and to the next door Malcolm and the Malcom-tachi for the 'good times'. Thanks also to everyone I missed out thanking. You were great and I'm sorry I forgot you. Yes you!
Last but not least, thanks to Japan. For being there.
Next stop: Bangkok
Fun Thursday
Today I went for an adventure around Tokyo with Arex Brook of 'Learn Japanese with Beb and Alex'- a podcast which holds claim to the title of 'first Japanese language learning podcast ever created'.
Our travels kicked off with a stroll to the h-h-huge Asakusa Temple which, like most famous Japanese temples, was half awe-fillin' olde world Japanese architecture and half tacky tourist naff. Even though it was a Thursday the place was packed with hundreds of tourists from all over Japan, taking in the sites and buying the tack. The numbers were quite mind-bogglesome and Alex & I took the opportunity to do a spot of people watching. It was hard to decide which was the more interesting, the temple or the multitudes. The temple structure itself was impressive but didn't quite capture the charm of some of the more remote Kamakuran 'Zen dens'. On the patented 'Duncan sliding scale of Temple quality' it ranks at a 7.5 with an extra A for effort.
Once we'd finished scaring the people at the central shrine by talking loudly about gas attacks on the underground, we hit a nearby Sushi bar and gulped some raw fish. I tried to grab the more exotic pieces and generally wasn't disappointed. I say generally because for my last dish I unwisely picked up some sea urchin meat. Here's a tip for anyone eating Sushi in Japan- sea urchin is not good. Most Sashimi is sweet and chewy but Urchin is globby and bitter. I've never tasted street Urchin but I doubt it's a lot worse. Luckily there was free ginger on hand for my second slice and I was able to totally drown the flavor.
Having Sushi'd, we took to the high seas in a cruise around Tokyo bay. It's hard to think of Tokyo as a port town but a port town in is. The reflections of Skyscrapers twinkled in the ocean and seagulls cawed and skimmed the waves. Actually, thinking back, there was a worrying absence of seagulls. Had there been seagulls though, rest assured they would have cawed and skimmed the waves.
The last port of call was Tokyo bay's pleasure beach which, for Tokyo, was fantastically scenic. We chilled out in front of a mock Jamaican cafe and chewed the fat with a couple of drinks and a pizza. Despite my protestation Alex bought the first round, so I retaliated by buying the second. While paying for it, almost dropping my wallet and working out how much two drinks cost, through slight of hand Alex managed to pay for the whole pizza without me noticing. I only realized in the train on the way home so, if you're reading this Alex, thanks for that. Expertly done!
And, for that matter, thanks also for a wonderful day! Not often does one get the chance to 'hang' with such a natural conversationalist, nor with the man behind Learn Japanese Pod. I enjoyed every minute (even the Urchin, in it's way) and was gutted to see the day end. All good things must come to an end, I guess, and so must this leg of my journey- tomorrow is woefully my last day in Japan.
No, no, wait. Looking at the clock, it is already my last day in Japan and has been for three hours. I'd probably better hit the hay. Goodnight all!
Our travels kicked off with a stroll to the h-h-huge Asakusa Temple which, like most famous Japanese temples, was half awe-fillin' olde world Japanese architecture and half tacky tourist naff. Even though it was a Thursday the place was packed with hundreds of tourists from all over Japan, taking in the sites and buying the tack. The numbers were quite mind-bogglesome and Alex & I took the opportunity to do a spot of people watching. It was hard to decide which was the more interesting, the temple or the multitudes. The temple structure itself was impressive but didn't quite capture the charm of some of the more remote Kamakuran 'Zen dens'. On the patented 'Duncan sliding scale of Temple quality' it ranks at a 7.5 with an extra A for effort.
Once we'd finished scaring the people at the central shrine by talking loudly about gas attacks on the underground, we hit a nearby Sushi bar and gulped some raw fish. I tried to grab the more exotic pieces and generally wasn't disappointed. I say generally because for my last dish I unwisely picked up some sea urchin meat. Here's a tip for anyone eating Sushi in Japan- sea urchin is not good. Most Sashimi is sweet and chewy but Urchin is globby and bitter. I've never tasted street Urchin but I doubt it's a lot worse. Luckily there was free ginger on hand for my second slice and I was able to totally drown the flavor.
Having Sushi'd, we took to the high seas in a cruise around Tokyo bay. It's hard to think of Tokyo as a port town but a port town in is. The reflections of Skyscrapers twinkled in the ocean and seagulls cawed and skimmed the waves. Actually, thinking back, there was a worrying absence of seagulls. Had there been seagulls though, rest assured they would have cawed and skimmed the waves.
The last port of call was Tokyo bay's pleasure beach which, for Tokyo, was fantastically scenic. We chilled out in front of a mock Jamaican cafe and chewed the fat with a couple of drinks and a pizza. Despite my protestation Alex bought the first round, so I retaliated by buying the second. While paying for it, almost dropping my wallet and working out how much two drinks cost, through slight of hand Alex managed to pay for the whole pizza without me noticing. I only realized in the train on the way home so, if you're reading this Alex, thanks for that. Expertly done!
And, for that matter, thanks also for a wonderful day! Not often does one get the chance to 'hang' with such a natural conversationalist, nor with the man behind Learn Japanese Pod. I enjoyed every minute (even the Urchin, in it's way) and was gutted to see the day end. All good things must come to an end, I guess, and so must this leg of my journey- tomorrow is woefully my last day in Japan.
No, no, wait. Looking at the clock, it is already my last day in Japan and has been for three hours. I'd probably better hit the hay. Goodnight all!
Wednesday, 14 May 2008
Not so strange?
Japan can be weird, there are no two ways about it. It can be strange with a capital Z. However, this is not too say that it's completely odd. All I've written about so far is the bizarre & the outlandish and I'm worried that the image I've given of your average Japanese citizen is gambling addicted salary man in a maid costume with robot friends and a toilet that squirts you.. or something even less understandable.
This is not the case at all. Most Japanese people, while being a little politer and more reserved than the English, are completely 'normal'. They think that dressing up as a maid or spending eight hours in a pachinko is just as odd as your average foreign person would. The big difference is that when faced with something funky, crazy or inappropriate, their initial reaction is not to correct, criticize or shame it, but to accept that it is strange and leave it in peace. 'If you want to pretend you're a big blue dog then go for it, as long as I don't have to be involved'.
In Hyde Park, London, dressing up as Elvis and dancing the day away would earn you cat calls, swear words, general derision and quite probably some form of physical violence. In Yoyogi Park people either think 'Oh, not my thing' and move right along or 'ahh, at least these fellows are passionate about something' and watch for a bit. There's no desire to shame the Elvises (Elvice?) into hanging up their blue swayed shoes simply for being different. They're just accepted and, for the most part, left well alone.
The same goes spirit of acceptance goes for products as well. If offered a toilet that squirts, your average brit would shy away 'If I buy this, what will my friends think?'! In Japan people recognize that the squirt could do a better job than the paper and so spray away.
This 'each to his own' philosophy can has it's downs as well of it's ups of course. The lack of 'good morning's, 'how d'you do's and sarcastic 'Effing great weather isn't it mate?'s can be a little stifling at times and people keep their opinions to themselves to such an extent that it's often quite hard to know if you've made a terrible gaffe.
If only there was some way to strike a happy medium. Without using a cricket bat.
(I know there are a good few honest-to-goodness-genuine-nihonjin who read this. Have I got the right end of the stick here? If you have any thoughts then do put them in the comments. I love hearing what people have to say.)
This is not the case at all. Most Japanese people, while being a little politer and more reserved than the English, are completely 'normal'. They think that dressing up as a maid or spending eight hours in a pachinko is just as odd as your average foreign person would. The big difference is that when faced with something funky, crazy or inappropriate, their initial reaction is not to correct, criticize or shame it, but to accept that it is strange and leave it in peace. 'If you want to pretend you're a big blue dog then go for it, as long as I don't have to be involved'.
In Hyde Park, London, dressing up as Elvis and dancing the day away would earn you cat calls, swear words, general derision and quite probably some form of physical violence. In Yoyogi Park people either think 'Oh, not my thing' and move right along or 'ahh, at least these fellows are passionate about something' and watch for a bit. There's no desire to shame the Elvises (Elvice?) into hanging up their blue swayed shoes simply for being different. They're just accepted and, for the most part, left well alone.
The same goes spirit of acceptance goes for products as well. If offered a toilet that squirts, your average brit would shy away 'If I buy this, what will my friends think?'! In Japan people recognize that the squirt could do a better job than the paper and so spray away.
This 'each to his own' philosophy can has it's downs as well of it's ups of course. The lack of 'good morning's, 'how d'you do's and sarcastic 'Effing great weather isn't it mate?'s can be a little stifling at times and people keep their opinions to themselves to such an extent that it's often quite hard to know if you've made a terrible gaffe.
If only there was some way to strike a happy medium. Without using a cricket bat.
(I know there are a good few honest-to-goodness-genuine-nihonjin who read this. Have I got the right end of the stick here? If you have any thoughts then do put them in the comments. I love hearing what people have to say.)
Jeans Mate, Jeans Love
Today, a one stanza poem from Shibuya:
...beaut.
I love JEANS!
We love jeans.
All the jeans lovers are mates to us.
We want to become the good advisors of jeans.
Good jeans.
Good mates.
There are them in!
"JEANS MATE"
Love
We love jeans.
All the jeans lovers are mates to us.
We want to become the good advisors of jeans.
Good jeans.
Good mates.
There are them in!
"JEANS MATE"
Love
...beaut.
Monday, 12 May 2008
Say Cheezu
Yet another terrifying pastime that's hit the nation of Japan by storm is the photo parlors. Mostly frequented by school girls, these places can be genuinely scary. I've used them on two separate occasions, the first time of my own free will with Tom, Joel and Ami, the second when four of my female classmates literally dragged me in.
The photo parlors or 'purika' are all over Tokyo, often linked to glitzy amusement arcades. Sparkly pink halls filled with countless booths, pictures of horribly over made-up women covering every surface. Pick the least ghastly booth (or, if you're with the lasses from my school, the most ghastly), pay four hundred yen between you and step inside.
Then cover your ears, 'cause in Japan it's sexy for teenage girls to speak in the squeakiest voices they can muster and these machines are aimed at teenage girls. The booths screech out instructions at a frequency so high it could reheat your lunch. Dogs for miles around know exactly what's being said but the human ear is incapable of comprehending without special training.
In your shock, press one of the many buttons on the touch screen panel and you will be presented with a selection of whacky and wonderful backgrounds for your picture. Blue beaches, pink hearts, red sunsets, pink teacups, green sparkles, pink flowers, pink beaches, just pink, light pink, dark pink, pink hair, pink pink, pink everything. There really is a lot of pink. Once you've decided on six backgrounds, press the okay button and the voice starts screeching again "ICHI, NI, SAN, YON, CHEEEEEEZUUUUUUUU". It takes photo after photo in quick succession, giving you barely enough time between each one to strike a new pose.
Once the photos are taken, everyone rushes to the other side of the booth to decorate them. You're given a time limit which causes the decoration process to deteriorate into a contest of 'how many sparkles can I get onto each photograph before the clock stops'. If the photos didn't look bad to start with, they will by the time you've finished adorning them with love hearts.
Once that's over and done with the photos are printed on sticky paper and dispensed from the bottom of the booth. Scissors are provided for cutting the stickers up and sharing them out.
My wallet is absolutely packed with these things and I have no idea what to do with them. If anyone has any suggestions then do put them in the comments box. The top prize is a collection of very small photo stickers!
The photo parlors or 'purika' are all over Tokyo, often linked to glitzy amusement arcades. Sparkly pink halls filled with countless booths, pictures of horribly over made-up women covering every surface. Pick the least ghastly booth (or, if you're with the lasses from my school, the most ghastly), pay four hundred yen between you and step inside.
Then cover your ears, 'cause in Japan it's sexy for teenage girls to speak in the squeakiest voices they can muster and these machines are aimed at teenage girls. The booths screech out instructions at a frequency so high it could reheat your lunch. Dogs for miles around know exactly what's being said but the human ear is incapable of comprehending without special training.
In your shock, press one of the many buttons on the touch screen panel and you will be presented with a selection of whacky and wonderful backgrounds for your picture. Blue beaches, pink hearts, red sunsets, pink teacups, green sparkles, pink flowers, pink beaches, just pink, light pink, dark pink, pink hair, pink pink, pink everything. There really is a lot of pink. Once you've decided on six backgrounds, press the okay button and the voice starts screeching again "ICHI, NI, SAN, YON, CHEEEEEEZUUUUUUUU". It takes photo after photo in quick succession, giving you barely enough time between each one to strike a new pose.
Once the photos are taken, everyone rushes to the other side of the booth to decorate them. You're given a time limit which causes the decoration process to deteriorate into a contest of 'how many sparkles can I get onto each photograph before the clock stops'. If the photos didn't look bad to start with, they will by the time you've finished adorning them with love hearts.
Once that's over and done with the photos are printed on sticky paper and dispensed from the bottom of the booth. Scissors are provided for cutting the stickers up and sharing them out.
My wallet is absolutely packed with these things and I have no idea what to do with them. If anyone has any suggestions then do put them in the comments box. The top prize is a collection of very small photo stickers!
Kings of the Park
Today I went to Yoyogi park and... well.... I think this 12 second video says it all really.
Sunday, 11 May 2008
When nature calls
Disclaimer: Readers or a gentle or sensitive disposition should take note that today's entry contains paragraphs of a graphically worded nature with topics and themes unsuitable for dinner table discussion. While none of the below content is particularly shocking, it is almost guaranteed to contain toilet humor. Read on at your peril!
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After making a conscious effort to memorize both the Japanese name and Kanji symbol for 'toilet' (in case of an emergency) I was a little disappointed to find that most sign posts point not to the 'TeArai' (The original Japanese word, lit: HandWash) but to the Toire or toilet. Japanese absorbs so many foreign words each year that I often wonder why I bother learning the langauge. If things continue at this rate, by 2050 Japanese will just be English with a different grammar structure.
Still, while Japanese 'Toires' may bear the same name, they are not completely similar to their western cousins. This has both positive and negative aspects. The main negatives are Japan's 'traditional' style toilets which can be found in most public lavatories and are almost as ghastly as those in French service stations. 'The Squatters', as I've taken to calling them, are basically just rectangular basins in the floor. You roll down your trousers, put one foot either side of the hole and let nature take it's coarse. They're not pleasant to look at and there's always the danger of overbalancing but at least they're simple, unlike the 'western style' facilities.
For Japan's 'western toilets' can get so complex that they require a whole instruction manual before use. When you sit down on one of these futuristic contraptions the first thing you notice is the heated seat. I can see that in many situations this would be beneficial but I was a bit put off by that 'recently used' feeling. Depending on which model you're sitting on you may be also be lucky enough to run into one of the following features.
The 'Extreme Deodorizer'- The extreme deodorizer somehow manages to get rid of smells without making a scent of it's own. Press the button and the smell just vanishes. I don't know what voodoo this is but I want one for my shoes!
Sound Effect- For reasons utterly and completely beyond my comprehension, some Japanese toilets are fitted with a 'flushing sound' button. Press the button and the toilet will make a loud flushing noise, just like the real thing. The purpose of this continues to vex me. Why on earth would you want people to think you were flushing it if you weren't? And, on the rare baffling occasion that you did want people to think you'd flushed, why not actually flush it?
Automatic Flush- Instead of having to pull a dirty handle, toilets often have an infa-red sensor that autoflushes when you stand. Adding this to your setup seems quite a bit more trouble than it's worth but is a nice addition none the less.
'The Nozzle'- It took a lot of bravery to try this one out. If your not the toilet roll type, press the bidet button on the control panel and a jet of water will do the job for you. The water pressure can be adjusted from 'just a squirt' all the way up too 'colonic irrigation' and 'tear me a new one'. There are two squirt modes: Unisex and Ladies only, which make learning the correct Kanji especially important. I'd recommend trying 'the nozzle' once for the experience and never again.
I don't know if these strange devices are overly complex and unnecessary or, to use a colloquialism, 'the shit'. Whatever your opinion, there's no arguing with the popularity of Nihon's automated dunnies. Even now, new loo technologies continue to be developed and I for one look forward to the next great innovation... whatever it maybe.
----------------------------
After making a conscious effort to memorize both the Japanese name and Kanji symbol for 'toilet' (in case of an emergency) I was a little disappointed to find that most sign posts point not to the 'TeArai' (The original Japanese word, lit: HandWash) but to the Toire or toilet. Japanese absorbs so many foreign words each year that I often wonder why I bother learning the langauge. If things continue at this rate, by 2050 Japanese will just be English with a different grammar structure.
Still, while Japanese 'Toires' may bear the same name, they are not completely similar to their western cousins. This has both positive and negative aspects. The main negatives are Japan's 'traditional' style toilets which can be found in most public lavatories and are almost as ghastly as those in French service stations. 'The Squatters', as I've taken to calling them, are basically just rectangular basins in the floor. You roll down your trousers, put one foot either side of the hole and let nature take it's coarse. They're not pleasant to look at and there's always the danger of overbalancing but at least they're simple, unlike the 'western style' facilities.
For Japan's 'western toilets' can get so complex that they require a whole instruction manual before use. When you sit down on one of these futuristic contraptions the first thing you notice is the heated seat. I can see that in many situations this would be beneficial but I was a bit put off by that 'recently used' feeling. Depending on which model you're sitting on you may be also be lucky enough to run into one of the following features.
The 'Extreme Deodorizer'- The extreme deodorizer somehow manages to get rid of smells without making a scent of it's own. Press the button and the smell just vanishes. I don't know what voodoo this is but I want one for my shoes!
Sound Effect- For reasons utterly and completely beyond my comprehension, some Japanese toilets are fitted with a 'flushing sound' button. Press the button and the toilet will make a loud flushing noise, just like the real thing. The purpose of this continues to vex me. Why on earth would you want people to think you were flushing it if you weren't? And, on the rare baffling occasion that you did want people to think you'd flushed, why not actually flush it?
Automatic Flush- Instead of having to pull a dirty handle, toilets often have an infa-red sensor that autoflushes when you stand. Adding this to your setup seems quite a bit more trouble than it's worth but is a nice addition none the less.
'The Nozzle'- It took a lot of bravery to try this one out. If your not the toilet roll type, press the bidet button on the control panel and a jet of water will do the job for you. The water pressure can be adjusted from 'just a squirt' all the way up too 'colonic irrigation' and 'tear me a new one'. There are two squirt modes: Unisex and Ladies only, which make learning the correct Kanji especially important. I'd recommend trying 'the nozzle' once for the experience and never again.
I don't know if these strange devices are overly complex and unnecessary or, to use a colloquialism, 'the shit'. Whatever your opinion, there's no arguing with the popularity of Nihon's automated dunnies. Even now, new loo technologies continue to be developed and I for one look forward to the next great innovation... whatever it maybe.
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