“I'm in London right now, and I'd rather not take the time to explain, rather than I fucked up pretty badly, and it's cost me a loooooooooooot of money.”
What???? Doushite? WAKARIMASEN!
My brother – the king of mystery, suspense and…deception? I really love how he so underhandedly withheld any important or useful information as I was so anxiously anticipating his arrival in Japan. Upon reading his e-mail, my first instinct was to believe that someone had stolen his backpack and was without money or any personal belongings. And let me tell you, the moment I saw that stinky, dirty face, I had never been so relieved to see him and to know that he was OK – not to mention fucking pissed off that the bastard was fine and had everything that belonged to him. I had even taken the day off work to pick him up, along with Gilly, at the airport. I had purchased my bus ticket and woken up well before my regular wake-up time just so that he would have a familiar face to greet him. The airport is a 2 hour drive. The bus ride took…….4.5 hours. There’s nothing more appealing than spending that amount of time on a bus in the windy streets of Tokyo’s suburbia….*puke face*. I suffered for him and I will someday seek my revenge.*
(Editor's note: I had to make the same trip the day I arrived, which I think is revenge enough).
Needless to say, I was happy to see my brother and proud to be able to show him around the place that I had been calling home for the previous 6 months.
Then the fun began. I had arranged for a small get-together at my favourite local pub. The name is “Gyouza brothers” or more fittingly, G-bros. They make, and I quote, “special fucking gyouza”. That’s right. What better way to introduce my brother to Japanese culture than to expose him to Hitachi city’s finest – Hiro-san and his bar crew! We drank, we ate and we finished the night off with my brother’s first taste of Karaoke in Japan. He REALLY got into it. My advice for the weary: never give him a few beers and then allow him to sing a Pearl Jam song. Although a good impression of Eddie Vedder, it is still a bit creepy.
The remaining time spent in Hitachi consisted of my brother’s shock at how quiet the town was. In that town, NOBODY is out on the streets but it’s ok….they sell beer in vending machines. This makes up for me pretending to have air conditioning when, really, the whole time my aircon was broken. Oops! Gomensai + Deep bow.
Next stop: Tokyo en route to Kyoto. We had lunch with Megumi and her boyfriend, Shogo, who so detested his new foreign friends after acquiring the nickname “The Shogster”. Lunch was good. My brother ate raw squid and octopus. Eww. We then hopped on the Shinkansen (aka bullet train for you whities out there) and spent the next bit of time watching Japan’s countryside zip by. We arrived in Kyoto and began the search for our B&B. The comedy of errors continued on, as we were left a bit confused upon our arrival to the guest house. No one was home and there was no key in the secret hiding place as previously discussed with the owner. I proceeded to call the gentleman running the place but was having a bit of trouble connecting with him. Finally, I connect and the conversation started with something like this:
“Hi! Sorry I’m not there but I’m really hammered right now.”
Shit. WHAT did we get ourselves into? Good one, Heza-san (Heza is Heather in Japanese for you whities out there). So we were instructed to go to his ex-wife’s café a street down and wait for him there. He shows up, drunk, with his young daughter, Juno, in tote. Off we go to this crazy man’s house. Even though it appeared to be a poor choice in accommodations, because we were obviously paying a lunatic German-Canadian man to feed us and provide shelter, we actually ended up loving the place and stayed an extra night. Not to mention that the B&B was a traditional style Kyoto home. It was a true cultural experience. Also, my brother learned a new word in which he insisted on using frequently and was even more so delighted when he could apply it to a real-life situation (at Disneyland of course). The word was wani, for alligator, but was expressed as “wani-wani” in the children’s book where we learned it. This was fitting for our Jungle Cruise experience where we actually saw some “wani’s”, and where my brother so proudly shouted at the top of his lungs because it was surely one of the only Japanese words he could properly pronounce.
The busy streets of Hitachi
Tokyo by night.
The Defender of Kyoto
A Temple in Kyoto
The Golden Temple in Kyoto
Buddhist Temple in Nara
2 comments:
OK, where's the posts on the 'Pore?!
Soon, soon! I'm waiting for my sister to finish her stuff. I should have my first post by the end of the week.
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