Kemal Gekic, 5 Inch Heels, and the Arrival of Dax

Have you ever been in a situation in which you just feel so embarrassed by what’s going on (even though you have nothing to do with it) that you just have to get up and leave? Jonathan and I had one of those experiences just the other day.

Jonathan, the speedy and athletic man that he is, was able to race and elbow his way past his co-workers again (see “Cloudbursts and the Art of Japanese Flower Arranging” post) to get us tickets to see a famous Croatian pianist perform at a concert hall in Tokyo. His name is Kemal Gekic and he is world- renowned for his ability to play some of the most difficult piano compositions (mainly Liszt) with such intense speed and precision that you are exhausted by the time he is finished. Although for this tour around the world he has abandoned Liszt, his program is still technically impossible and just as exhausting, or so I felt by the time the concert was over.

Jonathan and I were so looking forward to a classy night out. I, of course, was so excited for the chance to dress up that I spent basically the entire day getting ready, even if that meant thinking about what I was going to wear, or how I would do my makeup, or how Jonathan would react when he saw me all dressed up. You women know what I’m talking about. And it’s not like I had some other pressing engagement. As far as my wardrobe goes, I was most looking forward to wearing an amazing pair of shoes that Jonathan’s mother (the woman has exceptional taste) gave me for Christmas. After the earlier disastrous attempt to wear a similar pair of shoes around the city, I decided that I would spend the day wearing them around my apartment, you know, to acclimate myself to walking on skinny sticks about five inches high.

When the time came for Jonathan and I to meet up after work, I was ready to go, with not one, but two coats of mascara, and a well-practiced strut in my sexy little shoes. (Is this getting nauseating yet?) The dress-up had the desired effect on Jonathan, which made me feel even better about the cramps that were forming in the arch of my foot.

We arrived at the intimate concert hall and quickly found our seats. Mr. Gekic, who looks exactly the way a passionate artist should look, walked on stage, quickly sat down, and flung his fingers up and down the keys in a furious storm of movement and sound for an hour straight. It was amazing, but as I mentioned before, exhausting. I didn’t realize how exhausting until I heard a little Japanese man snoring a couple of rows away…oops. After a brief intermission, Gekic reappeared on stage, exactly as before, and played for a second straight hour and a half. The second half was more enjoyable, showcasing a much more mood driven Ravel.

When the concert ended, a thunderous applause erupted from the audience. Gekic bowed graciously for a minute or two and then walked off the stage. Of course, the clapping did not stop, so Gekic walked back on stage to graciously accept the applause again, and then walked off. For the next minute or maybe two, the clapping did not stop, and this time an annoyed Gekic walked back on stage signaling the lights to come up, bowed a couple of more times, and finally, with much attitude, walked off the stage again.

By this time, Jonathan and I are very uncomfortable. It is obvious that this man has no intention of giving an encore, and why should he? He just played for two and a half hours, and not just any piano pieces, these were some of the most intensely difficult pieces ever written. What more can he give? Jonathan and I, as well as several other foreigners, got up and moved towards the exits. Having the lights all the way up while people moved towards the exits was obviously not signal enough for the Japanese audience members who continued to applaud undaunted by the artist’s obvious uncooperative behavior. Just as we were going out of the door, Gekic walked back on stage and stared at the audience for several seconds before he raised his arm and began to speak. Jonathan and I paused to see what he would say.

In a thick accent, Gekic simply said, “I assume you want an encore. I am tired. I just played the most difficult performance in the world and it was two hours long. I can’t imagine what more you could want from me.” He sighed and paused for a moment.

The audience who apparently had no idea what was being said to them erupted again into vibrant, enthusiastic applause. (Remember this audience is Japanese, and even if they could speak English, do you think they are going to understand the heavy accented English of this poor Croatian man?) It was comical really.

Gekic’s head bowed in defeat. There was no convincing this audience. He simply said, “I will play something short.” He sat down and began to bang out something on the huge piano. Jonathan and I, blushing with embarrassment, continued through the door and out of the concert hall in order to separate ourselves more completely from the ravenous audience. It was painful to watch.

Jonathan and I walked home in the rain talking about the poor man who was probably still playing for the greedy audience. It was really a wonderful evening. Jonathan was very romantic, something he is very good at. Really, what can be better than going out in the evening with your husband in a little black dress and heels to a world-renowned piano concert in Tokyo? Not much.

We made it home to find our friends waiting for us. That’s right, my best friend Dax came for a visit with his girlfriend Jillian and long time “fella,” Peter.

We all went out to dinner at Jonathan’s and my favorite little Japanese/Italian restaurant. It’s a funny little place. You never know what size portion you are going to get. I ordered spaghetti and got a huge plateful, while Dax ordered Ravioli and was brought a large platter with four little cheese pockets on the plate. It doesn’t really get more Japanese than that. I think the boys ordered three entrées each before they were filled.

For the next several days we slept five people in our little apartment and had a great time.

The very dramatic, Kemal Gekic. I thought this was a very interesting description, "He is sometimes like the general who has learned all the rules in the book and is therefore free to ignore them at the time of war." ~James Roos, The Miami Herald, USA What does that mean? I think we usually execute those people as war criminals.

The beautiful concert hall.

These are the little shoes I practiced wearing all day. Thank you Rebecca!

Cloudbursts and The Art of Japanese Flower Arranging...

Japan has a rainy season. For those of you who have never been in a country with a rainy season, it’s unlike anything you have ever experienced before. One minute it will be sunny and sweltering, the next the sky will turn upside down and empty a torrent of water down upon you so strong that at times water is literally coming at you in every direction. In order to deal with this kind of water, Tokyo has constructed an elaborate canal system that safely channels the water out of streets and into reservoirs. It’s pretty amazing how fast these things fill-up and how violently they flow through the city when it rains.

Every one in Japan owns several umbrellas and every home and business establishment makes accommodations for these umbrellas, wet or dry. Some businesses have umbrella holders where you can lock up your umbrella and come fetch it with your key later. There are also plastic sleeves that you can slide your wet umbrella in and carry it a long with you. Because everyone has an umbrella, they have become somewhat of a fashion accessory. In high end department stores you can buy beautiful, gold-plated umbrellas with ruffles and whatever other little detail you can imagine. You can also buy umbrellas at any little corner market for a measly couple of bucks. Umbrellas are the only thing you can buy cheaper in Japan than in America.

This year has been a mild rainy season in Japan so far. There have been very few of these downpours. In fact, from what I can remember there has only been one of these ultra-violent cloud bursts since we’ve arrived in Japan, and we were caught in the middle of it...

Because the ambassador gets invited to everything that takes place in Japan, his office is constantly giving away tickets to some interesting event that he can’t attend. It usually happens like this: An email will be sent out to everyone in the embassy detailing the tickets that are up for grabs. Who ever can make it up to the ambassador’s office first will get the tickets. Calls and emails can’t reserve the tickets. It’s simply a mad dash effort. Jonathan, being the capable and quick man that he is, was able to secure us tickets to an Ikebana (Japanese flower arranging) exhibit. Japanese flower arranging is almost a religion here in Japan. Again, it’s all about open space and weird angles. There’s none of this big, thick, and busy bouquet business that we love in America. It’s very simple, and yet, complex all at once. You’ll see what I mean in the pictures.
We decided to check out the exhibit on Sunday before church. We woke up early, threw on our church clothes and walked out the door to find pouring rain. We weren’t worried. The subway is only a block from our house and according to our directions the exhibit was only a ten minute walk from the station we would be getting off of, and by then the rain would surely let up. Jonathan and I squeezed under a small umbrella and began our journey.

When we exited the subway to begin our short ten minute walk, we were concerned to find that the rain had not relented; in fact, it had graduated from a rain to a flash flood. We were determined, though, to use our free tickets and so we continued our walk. Although we attempted to squeeze underneath one umbrella, we quickly realized that the outside part of our bodies were soaked, so we stopped by a little convenience store and bought another umbrella for me to use. Shielded by two umbrellas now, we were certain that we would quickly dry out. That’s when it really started raining. The rain was so strong that it would bounce of the ground and back on to us, sometimes waist high. Lakes would form in the middle of the side walk, and we had no way around, but just had to walk through them.

First, I suggested that we get a taxi. Jonathan assured me that it was only a short walk and that we would be fine. Ten minutes later, with my eyebrows slightly raised, I stressed (nagged) the fact that getting a Taxi might be a good idea. Twenty minutes later, completely soaked, even my hair now, I demanded that Jonathan ask for directions. When we finally arrived a half hour later, Jonathan promised me that we would take a taxi back to the station when we were done looking at the exhibit.

As we approached the building, we noticed that it wasn’t so much a museum, but an ancient Japanese home. The people moving throughout the building were in Kimonos and nice black suits. Even though we were in Church clothes we were obviously under-dressed. We were asked to take off our shoes and leave them at the door. Imagine our horror as we not only took off our shoes but poured what seemed like a bucket of water out of them. My feet were filthy, so one of the hostesses brought a towel and watched to make sure my feet were clean before I could walk inside.

After I got over the fact that Jonathan (in a wool suit) and I looked like we just crawled out of a swamp, I realized that the rain really added something very special and very Japanese to the ambiance of the house and the flowers inside. We found out that the house belonged to the royal family, and that most of the time someone does in fact live there. It was beautiful. I think Jonathan almost cried as he imagined living in a place so unique and elegant, yet simple and rustic. One of his favorite Japanese poets, Matsuo Basho, spent time at this house and in the gardens to receive inspiration for his poems, haikus of course.

The arrangements were so exotic and beautiful. Sometimes, the artists would choose flowers with obvious flaws to communicate a feeling or a story. Those who are Ikebana aficionados can read these arrangements like books and connect with the artist in a very real way. Jonathan and I tried our hand at it, but the truth is we just thought they were all really beautiful. We even met one of the artists who was our age or a little older. She invited us to an Ikebana class that we will be attending in July.

On our way out, we cringed as we put our wet shoes back on. Jonathan’s shoes made a squishy noise every time he took a step and began to spit out foam like some kind of rabid animal. It was strange and a little embarrassing to watch his shoes suds-up more and more with each step. I guess shoes have a residue of saddle soap still in the leather that causes them to do that when they get really wet. Because the rain had calmed to a sprinkle, Jonathan decided that we didn’t need a taxi, but at least the walk would be shorter, now that we knew where we were going. And… I did have a pretty new umbrella.

We arrived at church late and wet, but happy. Jonathan kept asking me if I thought he was a stud for being a missionary in Japan when it can reain all day like that. I told him, "Of course."

I hope those of you who love flowers (Gwyn, Rebecca (Mom Stralding), and Grandma Post) enjoy these pictures.

These are some of the gardens surrounding the house. See what I mean about the rain really adding something here.

This is a little garden area that the house is built around. The think they might have bathed here once upon a time.
We are just starting to dry off. For those of you who may be interested, I know it's not a great shot, but I made the skirt I'm wearing.

Imperial Palace

Jonathan and I rolled out of bed on early on Saturday to take our friends to the train station. We planned to drop them off and then return to our apartment to sleep a little more, shower, and then go off on an adventure. After dropping off our friends, we realized that we were very close to the Imperial Palace, and despite the fact that we were wearing the clothes we slept in, we decided to take this as our opportunity to tour the Imperial Palace and the Gardens surrounding it.

It was a hot and muggy day, which helped add to the already ruminating odors wafting off our bodies. I have no idea what gave us the motivation to spend the day out like that, especially since we were so greasy and disheveled (my hair in the pictures will testify of our grunginess), but it was a really fun. Saturdays are always wonderful because Jonathan just wants to play and he has nothing to worry about now that he is out of school for the summer.


To be honest, although the grounds were quite pretty and unique, the tour was somewhat disappointing. The Imperial palace grounds are only open to the public twice a year for a few hours, so we had to see the Palace from afar. The imperial Palace grounds are huge. The Palace itself is surrounded by several moats and thick stone walls. Inside of the moats and walls is where the Imperial family still lives today. Japan’s Imperial family is almost as interesting and scandalous as the British one. The current Impress was the first commoner to ever marry into the royal family. The Japanese Imperial family is also the oldest royal family in the world.

The most exciting part of the day was when Jonathan and I, exhausted and sweating, decided to take a rest near one of the well-guarded entrances to the palace. About ten policemen guard each entrance to the Imperial Palace at any given time. As I walked by I saw several guards chatting with a man in a business suit. I didn’t think anything of it and went on with my conversation with Jonathan until I heard a man yelling and several feet scuffling in the pebbley walk way. I quickly turned my attention to see the man being arrested and dragged behind the huge wooden door. It was so exciting! It wasn’t long before a little Japanese police car drove up, lights flashing, and carried the man away. Jonathan and I like to think that we witness an assassination attempt on the Emperor.

We finally made it back home a little after lunch time and slept in our hot little apartment until the evening. It was the perfect Tokyo day.

This is a Japanese Garden. It's also the only place that I have seen grass since I've been in Tokyo. Although it's not really grass (more like moss), it was so refreshing to relax on.
Jonathan and I posing by the bridge that you cross to get into the palace. Please take not of my hair. Can you believe that Jonathan was walking around with me looking like that?
Par of the Imperial Palace

This the famous Tokyo train station. It is a huge western style building that was built after WWII. Once a year all the members of state and other political figures leave this station and take horse drawn carriages to the Imperial Palace to visit the Emperor.
Jonathan by one of the outer moats of the Imperial Palace.
The Japanese use this description instead of "Homeless Shelter."

They work really hard to make the pine tress grow this way. You'll notice in the first picture that the pine trees look gnarly and their needles sparse. They groom them to look that way.

Jonathan and Japan; Strangers Passing in the Night

Jonathan loves his internship. He is having a great time with his co-workers and the important work they do to keep the Japanese/American relationship friendly and meaningful. The embassy has given him a cell phone and his own business cards (one side in English the other in Japanese). They treat him like any other member of the team with few exceptions. He sits in on meeting with the ambassador, generals, and Japanese parliament members on a weekly basis. Overall Jonathan is loving the opportunity and the experience. He has his first high-profile “assignment” coming up soon. I can’t wait to tell you all about.

Despite Jonathan’s enthusiasm for his job at the embassy, I can’t help but feel a little bad for him. We are in Japan because Jonathan loves it here. After his mission, he vowed that he would make it back to this country at the earliest opportunity. Now that we are here, he hardly feels like he is in Japan at all. He works 10-12 hours a day in an office full of Americans. Most of the business that the embassy conducts with the Japanese government is also in English. When he comes home from work, everything is closed except for bars and restaurants, and although we love going out as much as the next couple, our budget is extremely strict, as are our partying guidelines. So, Jonathan and Japan are like strangers passing in the night.

I didn’t even consider his sadness about this issue until we got into an argument one night over Jonathan’s seemingly inattention to the recounting of my day. Here I was, the “lonely and forgotten wife”, trying to tell him about my adventures as he distractedly hoed and hummed his way through the entire conversation! I was so upset. The least he could do was act like what I did that day seemed fun in the least bit. It might have been a very small step into the sprawling Tokyo metropolis, but I was proud and wanted to tell him about it as he sat bright-eyed and enchanted. Come on! After chastising him for several minutes about his insincere attempts to listen (he was listening, by the way, to every detail, he just wasn’t able to force the excited feedback I was looking for), Jonathan sat back and patiently explained that he was tired, he had worked all day and needed to relax, and although he was so happy that I’ve been able to embark on so many fun and interesting Tokyo adventures, he felt a little left out. Oh. Poor Jon. I had no idea.

I knew it was hard for Jonathan to admit. He enjoys his internship so much that he feels a little ungrateful wanting more. I can understand that. So, we are searching for more evening Japanese experiences for him and have found a few great ones. Let us know if you have any ideas.

Jonathan's Business Card.
An invitation for Jonathan to Attend a reception at the Ambassador's House. According to Jonathan, the Ambassador's house rival the White House.

I'm still here...

Not that any of you are waiting in anticipation for another post, but I wanted to let you all know that you should be expecting a string of exciting posts today and tomorrow. It's been a crazy week, can't wait to write about it.

A Day at the Museum....

Because I had such a wonderful day at the Tokyo zoo, I thought I’d go back and explore the many art museums at Ueno Park. I saw several banners advertising a DaVinci exhibit at the Tokyo National Museum of art. I was so excited to see this famous painter/inventor/scientist’s works. Never having visited Europe, I’ve only ever seen his paintings in posters and in the occasional historical fiction film like, “Ever After.” Haha. It’s a great way to experience art. So, I found my way to a ticket booth and bought a 1200 yen ticket to see the “DaVinci: The Universal Genius” exhibit (which was really quite expensive considering it was a student rate and considering the usual museum rate is only 400 yen). Because of the price and because of the line that snaked out of the museum doors and down around the museum grounds, I had the highest of expectations for this art show.

I waited in line for a good hour before I set foot in the museum. Sometimes I forget that I go the whole day without mouthing a single word to any single person. I take off in the morning to visit whatever wonderful sight, and it is entirely possible and most likely that I will go the whole day without saying anything to anyone at all (that is until Jonathan comes home from work). It’s very liberating to look back and realize that I was completely self-sufficient that day, but it can also be very, very lonely when the moment strikes that I have something to say, and no one to say it too. (I’m starting to become motivated to learn Japanese.) While I was standing in line, hearing the many gibberish conversations around me, interjected by the occasional muted Japanese woman giggle, I felt very isolated and awkward. I spent the hour replaying various events of freshman year of college in my mind, and resisting the relentless pursuit of an old Japanese man who was trying to pass me in line. It was so funny. He would inch up until he was next to me and then casually insert his foot between me and tiny Japanese girl in front of me. I would side step away from him, replace my self firmly in front of him, and then wait for him to try his trick again. It was a fun game. I didn’t really care if he passed me, but the game of thwarting his plot to get ahead helped keep me entertained during the wait.

Inside the museum, I followed the line into a large dark room. On the farthest wall from me was a single painting behind a glass box with secret service museum guards on either side, and about 300 people waiting in line for a chance to see the paining. I told myself to just get through this room and the exhibit is sure to open up so people can walk around to view his works more freely. As I approached the painting, I realized that I would hardly have a chance to see it. The guards were directing people by in such a quickly moving stream that you could only glance at the painting as you walked by. I was irritated, but because it wasn’t one of DaVinci’s best known paintings, I figured I wouldn’t be too heart broken. I told myself there was more to come. I did drag my feet a bit as I passed the painting to get a better look. It was beautiful and in really great shape. The colors were so bright. This created a large gap between me and the girl in front of me, throwing the guards into a tizzy. They politely, but with much agitation asked me to push on (I guess they were polite. I don’t really know what they were saying).

The Annunciation by Leonardo DaVinci.

After glancing at the “Annunciation,” I continued following the line until we came to a door. I eagerly anticipated the rest of the exhibit that surely waited in the next room. I passed through the doors into the… main lobby of the museum! What!?! Why was I in the main lobby and why was everyone exiting the museum? The reality of the situation started to fill me with an intense and heated anger. That was it! That was the exhibit that I spent $12 to see? I looked from left to right for something more. My heart raced as nothing, no answers, materialized. I was furious.

At a map of the museum grounds, I saw a tall white man (about my age) looking into a tour book. I approached him needing confirmation and a chance to vent my frustration.

Me: “Do you speak English”

Him: “Yes, I do” (sexy Scottish accent)

Me: “Did you go into that room over there?” (I pointed to the room where the lone DaVinci painting hanged.)

Him: “No, there are way too many people.”

Me: “Yes, there are. And there was only one painting. I had to stand in line for an hour just to get in to the museum to see it, and then when I finally saw it, I could only glance at it as I walked by.”

Him: “Uhm. Yea…too bad.”

Me: “Is that all of the exhibit? Is there more to this museum?”

Another American approached. He was chubby with long hair, an artsy type. Evidently he had over-heard my question.

American: “Yes, up stairs you can go through Japan’s entire artistic history. I’ve come to see the block paintings. They’re fascinating. There is a second part of the DaVinci exhibit in that building over there, but I don’t think there are paintings, it’s more about his inventions. Block paintings are famous for….etc, etc.”

He began in on a lecture of Japanese art history. When he finally took a breath, I interrupted with a, “I can’t wait to see it for myself!” I thanked him for his help and went on my way.

Somewhat relieved by the fact that there was more DaVinci exhibit to see, I decided to view some of the Japanese art before making my way to the adjacent building. The Scottish man followed me. He struck up a slight conversation as we walked up the stairs, and I quickly jumped on the chance to make a museum friend. Becoming aware of his awkwardness, I just continued the conversation where we left off downstairs.

Him: "I guess we’re heading in the right direction."

Me: "I hope so. I’m excited to see all of Japan’s art history."

Him: "………" (He awkwardly searched for something to say.)

Me: " I’m so frustrated by my experience downstairs. And the painting was behind glass! I could hardly see it. Can you believe that?"

Him: "I guess you can never be too careful."

Me: "(grumble)"

Receiving no validation from my new Scottish friend, the frustration was cemented. As soon as we reached the second floor, I grabbed an English guide pamphlet and took off on my own for some self-healing through Japanese art. No matter how lonely I may have been, spending the next couple of hours trying to make awkward conversation with a man I didn’t know was not going to help.

Exploring the Japanese art was definitely a lesson, more than an exploration of beauty for me. I was fascinated by how strange it all seemed. Many of the ceramics and pottery pieces were, in my paradigm of aesthetics, beyond beautiful. But overall, I learned that there is definitely something very different about a Westerner’s idea of beauty, and an Easterner’s. Simplicity and loneliness seems to be the center of the Japanese art, while color and drama reigns supreme in much of the western art I love. I really don’t know how to talk about art, but walking though the Japanese museum felt very different from any museum I have ever visited in America.

After spending a couple of hours in the Japanese section of the museum, I was mostly calmed down from my cattle herding, art glancing experience earlier in the day. I was ready to see the second part of the DaVinci exhibit.

With lower expectations this time, I walked into the second part of the DaVinci exhibit in the adjacent building. This time I laughed has people crowded around jumbo-sized posters of DaVinci’s other paintings. The rest of the exhibit consisted of LCD screens that explained in Japanese different periods of DaVinci’s life. There was also a small model built using DaVinci’s plans for a flying machine. That’s all.

So Japan is different. Just when you think it’s the same…it spins you around and you find yourself pointing south as everyone else is moving north. It’s fun, because it’s memorable. I’m debating about going to see the Munch exhibit at the Tokyo Metropolitan Museum of art. I don’t know…. Should I chance it?

I guess you can never be too careful.

Tokyo Zoo

I have new ideas about zoos since I read “Life of Pi.” It is a fantastic and fantastical novel about a young Indian boy who grew up on a zoo. It would make an amazing movie, although, I am a bit reluctant to encourage such a project, because the disappointment would be very bitter if it were done badly.

Since reading this book, my childhood fascination with zoos has returned in full force. Somewhere between high school and my college years I developed the very noble ideology that animals kept in artificial environments, such as zoos, was a travesty against “mother earth” and that I couldn’t support these institutions that were turning a profit on the abuse and imprisonment of nature’s most beautiful animals. However, with a little more thought, I’ve come to realize that it is these institutions that are keeping endangered species from becoming extinct, and although their living space might not always be ideal, I have no doubt that these animals are loved and taken special care of (maybe not in all cases, but in most.) Or, at least that’s what I’ve started telling myself.

After studying my Tokyo travel book, I read a section on Ueno Park, which is a fabulous and sprawling cultural park in Tokyo. It has something like 5 art museums, temples and shrines, musicians/performers that play all day in the streets, and….a zoo. My interest was sparked by this line, “Japan’s oldest zoo includes all the lions, tigers, and bears that zoos normally have, although the sweet and sleepy pandas are by far the most popular.” The PANDAS!? I don’t know if you have noticed the remarkable similarity between Amanda and “Panda”, but because of this similarity I’ve felt a very sincere (nicknames) and material (several panda bear stuff animals) connection with these animals throughout my life. However, I have never seen one of these animals for myself. The thought of walking through a zoo that is over 100 years old in one of the largest and most economically well-off cities in world on the most beautiful summer day of my life to see the mystical panda bear for the first time, just seemed too perfect to pass up. So, with my maps and guide books, dressed in a flowy summer skirt (and a comfortable pair of sandals), I set out on my first trip across the Tokyo Metro area.

After a successful subway ride, I entered the Park at the opposite end of the zoo, which means I had to do plenty of walking before I made it to the zoo gate. The park was not only huge, but also beautiful and so fun. There are temples and shrines that are hundreds of years old standing amidst the park’s contemporary walkways and unique Japanese street performers. My favorite shrine was one called Benten-do, which is a memorial to the goddess of the arts. To get to it, you had to pass through a tunnel of red torii that led to the small but beautiful little shrine. At the little washing basin at the entrance of the shrine, I discovered a unique basin leg that made me smile. It was a fat little demon guardian grunting under the weight of the stone basin. He was so covered with moss, I hardly noticed him at first, but the discovery made me feel lucky and happy about my trip.

The Zoo entrance fee was a measly 600 yen ($6), much cheaper than any zoo in America. I walked in and immediately found a map in English. I set my course and the first stop was the cage of “Ling Ling” the Panda Bear. I was told that Ling Ling would be asleep. I talked with one family who said that the extent that they had ever seen this panda bear move was that it took a leak once while it was napping. So, I didn’t expect much. I figured seeing a fluffy, sleeping panda bear in Tokyo should be enough for any girl. I approached the large enclosure, and there was Ling Ling asleep, as promised, next to a leafy bamboo branch. I took several pictures, of this black and white furry mass, and was about to move on when I heard a gasp from the audience. Ling Ling woke up! And she began to drowsily walk around her enclosure. She would walk a few feet, sit down on her bum, and yawn like some kind of cartoon character. She was beautiful, and surprisingly small. The name “Giant Panda” always lead me to believe these animals were massive, but Ling Ling was quite smaller than I expected. I was so happy to see her walk around. I was so nervous about travelling so far away from my apartment that day, but I knew I was being blessed to have a good day as soon as Ling Ling woke up.

The rest of the day at the zoo was just as exciting. All the animals were awake and happy to pose for pictures. I saw penguins, polar bears, lions, tigers, spider monkeys, rhinos, hippos, huge elephants, and all kinds of crazy birds. The zoo was amazing. All of the vegetation inside and outside the enclosures was real. Walkways were canopied by trees that are who knows how old. The animals all seemed happy and healthy. It was amazing how pink the flamingoes were. Some of the animals weren’t even in cages. The sloth was hanging from a tree out in the open, and there were several porcupines that roamed freely around the zoo. There was also a 600 year old pagoda standing in its original form in the middle of the zoo.

I know. I know. We’ve all been to zoos before. Maybe it doesn’t deserve such a long post, but it was such a wonderful day for me. I spent the whole day out of the apartment. Across town. By myself. In the sun. It was a perfect day.

Torii Tunnel.

My favorite little statue.

"Ling Ling"
This little monkey spent several minutes trying to untwist the wire that held this sign to its cage.



Regal.
Secretary Bird.

So pink.
One of the huge hippos. This is not its real enclosure. He just sleeps here.
Polar Bear.

Roppongi Hills: The Beverly Hills of Tokyo

Roppongi Hills is large upscale shopping/business community which was recently opened in 2004. It supposedly has brought a change to Roppongi which has, until recently, been known only for its nightlife and for its concentration of illegal activity. It has traditionally been the sight of several gang shootings each year. Until Roppongi Hills was built, there was no real reason to come to Roppongi during day light hours. Since Roppongi Hill’s opening, Roppongi has moved up in status and has brought in new business. Right next to our apartment another high-end community just cropped up a few months ago called Tokyo Mid-town. Between these two gigantic consumer dream houses, Roppongi has become quite the happening place. It is a center of design and of alternative art venues. It’s a fun place to live. Not to mention that Roppongi Hills boasts its very own Cold Stone Creamery (it’s Jonathan’s and my favorite).

In the middle of Roppongi Hills is a 53 story building called Mori Tower. On the 53rd floor there is an Art Museum (the highest art museum in the world apparently) and on the 52nd floor is a city view of Tokyo. Although I hate elevators, I decided that since I already proved my courage on the 12 hour flight to come to Japan, it wouldn’t take too much to ride an elevator for a few seconds. After a couple of deep breaths, I found myself looking out of walls of glass in awe of Tokyo’s cityscape. Tokyo is massive. I’ve never looked over an ocean of buildings before, but as far as my eyes could see Tokyo stretched on and on. It was both invigorating and a little frightening to see so many concrete structures and to imagine how many people must inhabit them.

I also visited the art museum on the 53rd floor and had my first taste of museums in Japan. A security guard, (who was dressed like a secret service agent, complete with a semi-hidden ear piece) followed me around everywhere I went. She also made me spit out my gum into a Kleenex, which was embarrassing. Not to mention that there is a laid out route that one must follow through the museum. A wrong turn will send a security guard after you to get you back on track. With my little experience in Japan, I am beginning to realize that this is just how Japan is. When it comes to procedure, it is a culture of black and white. There is no room for individuality (except when it comes to fashion).

There were two exhibits on display. The first was an exhibit of paintings by mentally/physically disabled children from a famous school in Japan that teaches its students through art. There were some really amazing and very touching pieces. I especially loved several pieces by a child who I assume is autistic due to the detailed and repetitive nature of her art. She created these huge poster size pieces using what looks like marker. I bought a couple of postcards which you can see below. The museum also had an extensive exhibit of Le Corbusier, who was known more for his architecture than for his art, although he produced thousands of paintings.

So this was the extent of my first day of venturing out on my own. It was fun, and it definitely inspired me to plan other daily adventures during the week. For FHE Jonathan and I went to see Pirates of the Caribbean III, in English. Ahh... Although the movie wasn't exactly great, I definitely enjoyed sitting in a gargantuan theater next to my Jonathan.

This one was called "Forget me Not"
This one is "Walking in the Garden with Mother"
Some detail. See how the pattern is repeated perfectly over and over again, as if it was printed by a machine?
This is a Spider statue in the middle of Roppongi Hills. I felt very uncomfortable next to this thing. The creepiest part is that the statue has an egg sack which you can see when you walk under it. Yikes.

Although 53 stories isn't tall compared to American skyscrapers, it still felt incredibly high, especially when I looked down at this huge apartment building. (They don't build the enormous skyscrapers of America in Tokyo because of the inevitable earthquakes that will surely knock them down.)

Tokyo Tower. Look familiar?

Notice how few cars are on this highway running through the middle of Tokyo? The public transportation system is so good here that people would prefer to use it than drive their own cars. You'll hardly ever hit a traffic jam in Tokyo.