the bouncey zone

At a vendor stall in Asakusa I picked up a small bag of kompeito. It’s a little lump of rock candy that melts into a delicate sweetness with the faintest hint of added flavor. Kompeito looks a little bit like everlasting gobstoppers from the original Willy Wonka movie.

Best candy ever. At least it’s right up there with candied ginger and dark chocolate. Very popular in anime. [wikipedia link]

I’d like to find a relatively local source before this bag runs out. The manufacturer seems to sell only in Japan. J-box lists kompeito too. The cost is similar to what I originally paid after shipping is added.

Cheaper would be better. I’ll have to check at the asian grocery sometime.

I’ve been working on my company’s main web site today. I was getting annoyed with complicated, bloated, unmaintainable content management systems. Most simpler ready-made systems, such as blog kits, seem to be geared towards something other than what I actually need — a relatively static web site that tells the world about my company.

So I wrote it myself from scratch in PHP, CSS, and HTML. My programming tools were a web browser and a plain text editor. The new system is simple and lightweight, using no database and no image files. (Though it should be fairly straightforward to add those if needed.) Adding a new page is a matter of copying one file and adding a link in another file.

Half of the actual content hasn’t been written yet. But have a look anyway and let me know what you think: [hyperadaptive link]

In case it hasn’t been obvious lately, I’m a bit of a language nerd. I get a big kick from learning foreign languages.

If I’m not actively learning a new way to frame the world, something very basic in my personality starts to slow down and wither. I can feel myself getting older. That scares me.

Learning a new spoken language, a computer programming language, or a new set of written symbols wakes up and gives me mental energy. It makes me feel as if the clock has turned back for a little while.

On the first day at worldcon there was a panel discussing the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis. The panelists were a physicist, a psychologist who is also active with the Klingon language, and an unofficial panelist who moved to the front because he plays with Lojban — a language designed to test Sapir-Whorf.

In addition there was a whole room full of fellow language nerds. We had almost 2 hours to let the conversation wander. It was great.

Japanese has been a blast. Sometime soon, while it’s still fresh in mind, I want to write up some notes about what you really need to learn for a more enjoyable visit to Japan. Also I want to describe the current state of the English language in Japan. Both of these essays are still stewing in my subconscious, so give me a few days to think.

I’d like to continue studying Japanese. But I need to change gears for a few months. So I’m starting Spanish again. For the past few years I’ve been trying to cram totally alien grammar and vocabulary (Japanese, Arabic, and a little Chinese) into my brain. Something distinctly European will be like a pleasant weekend trip to Tulsa. Easy and familiar.

Never mind if the whole world is (allegedly) learning English. So what? I already speak it as a native. English is no challenge for me. Besides, as I discovered while studying Spanish and Esperanto in high school, learning other languages actually improves my English. Comparative grammar study works both ways.

Remember the story of Babel? A unified human empire decided to build a big tower. God scrambled their languages and halted the project. The church teaches that it’s a warning against collective arrogance. We should accept that people are divided into nations with different languages because God wanted it that way. It’s all for our own good.

I understand that much. But as a language nerd, I’ve always read the story a little differently. Babel tells me this: If we get our act together, we can do anything. Even threaten the gods. Communication brings us together and gives us power. Confusion causes chaos and drives us apart.

Next time we’re going straight up that tower and off to the stars. Maybe while coming back together we’ll pick up enough wisdom to earn our new place.

(I intentionally oversimplified the standard interpretation. All the nuances could fill whole books. This link goes to a very long but interesting discussion of Babel from another perpective. It has very little to do with human languages. Also, the biblical passage is often translated into various languages for comparison.)

On a less figurative level, worldcon usually has at least one space elevator panel. I don’t recall seeing one in the schedule this year. Maybe next time.

I lost 7 pounds in Japan!

That was a fun trip. I’m already planning for next time. Maybe take Scott to see Kyoto when he’s old enough to remember it…

We’re home!

It’s 10:00 PM in Oklahoma and noon in Tokyo. My internal clock is somewhere in between. I didn’t get much sleep in flight, so I had a long nap at home.

I was thinking about the hotels where we stayed. Their idea of what is standard and what costs extra is different from in America.

Japanese hotels typically provide slippers (painfully small for my feet), yukata robes, green tea bags, a tea making device, a small refigerator, hair dryer, towels, and free internet access. No coffee maker. In the bathroom are individually wrapped razors and toothbrush/toothpaste sets. Soap, shampoo, and conditioner are in pump bottles.

Nicer hotels also offer shrink-wrapped sponges, hair brushes, and cotton kits. Some have washlets. Others have tiny bathrooms that are one step up from airplane lavatories.

Imagine a 4x6x7 foot box bolted together with the fixtures into one integrated unit with overlapping seams. All water dispensing devices share one set of water inlets and a common drain (except for the toilet flush outlet). The shower head is on a movable hose. I didn’t see any caulk, or any seams that would need it.

Actually, the bigger bathrooms in nicer hotels follow that same general pattern. They just do it on a more comfortable scale. In the small version it’s impossible to use the sink and shower at the same time.

Cheaper hotels provide the toothbrush and razor only in vending machines. Hotels that cater to backpackers sometimes make customers bring their own towels. Capsules and extreme “budget” hotels have shared bathrooms.

TV is mostly limited to free broadcast stations. A vending machine in the hall sells access cards for premium channels. Keys are left at the front desk when going out, even the purely symbolic key rings used at capsule hotels. I never saw an ice maker in any of our hotels.

It’s fairly routine to check bags at the front desk for the day, say if it’s check-out day and we want to play tourist before checking in at the next hotel. They just set the suitcases in a corner of the lobby. Possibly behind an unlocked screen, but usually not. Our suitcases were always present and unmolested when we came back.

I took several pictures of our hotel rooms and their bathrooms. I’ll sort through the ones that I haven’t uploaded yet after I sleep off some jet lag.

Packing up to leave the capsule hotel. The bed was hard, the pillow was full of pea gravel (really), and the bed needed to be about 6 inches wider. But otherwise it was quite comfortable. I’ve paid more for worse hotels in America.

The general capsule design might be good for bunks in a multiple-child bedroom. Sort of a separate private hideout for each kid.

Off to the airport! Time for a little time travel. We’ll arrive in Dallas 2 hours before we take off in Tokyo.

Our flight home is tomorrow morning. For our last night, we decided to try something new. It’s called a Capsule Hotel.

Ours is a double. That means both of us squeeze into one extra-wide capsule. It’s pretty neat. There are separate bathrooms for men and women.

Today we went back to Asakusa to buy souvenirs at the tourist fleecing district. It’s near several temples and shrines, and also one block over from the train station that we used when traveling to Nikko that first night. The place looks a lot more spacious after 2 weeks of even more crowded areas.

After checking in at the capsule place (Tokyo Kiba Hotel – 東京木場ホテル) we visited a department store across the street. Tokyo department stores are almost like American shopping malls. We bought a few more souvenirs and some things for breakfast.

Fun fact: In Japan they sell hard liquor in grocery and convenience stores.

Things that are popular in Japan:

– Convenience stores, which almost never sell gasoline
– Hello Kitty (ハローキテイ)
– Neon Genesis Evangelion (エヴァンゲリオン)
– My Neighbor Totoro, and anything else from that studio
– Snoopy
– Stitch (Lilo’s alien friend)
– Nintendo DS
– Doing things to cell phones without actually talking on them
– Things to decorate cell phones
– Trains, scooters, and bicycles
– Crazy game shows
– Selling things from vending machines, including sake, beer, cigarettes, and tickets to hot springs baths
– Fully integrated one-piece bathrooms
– Shirts that unintentionally say extremely hilarious things in English
– Pizza: Margherita (tomato-basil), corn & mayo, seafood, or Italian ham; there are very few other topping options
– Burgers: Brown gravy, no bun
– Putting sunny-side-up eggs on top of everything (burgers, pizza, salads, pasta)
– Sleeping on the train

Things that aren’t so popular:

– Paper towels (bring your own washcloth to dry hands at public toilets)
– Dr. Seuss
– Lilo, Stitch’s human friend
– American cars and motorcycles
– Soda pop in big bottles
– Benches to sit on
– David Hasselhoff

I’m sure I’ll think of more later. Actually, I’ve very surprised at how vegetarian-hostile Japanese restaurants have been. Japan is the land of rice and tofu, right? Well, they like to soak everything in strong meat broth. Then they stir in some fish flakes and sprinkle bits of meat on top. None of this will be reflected in the food’s name or description.

I know how to tell them to skip the meat in their own language — watashi wa bejiterian desu, niku o tabemasen, sakana o tabemasen, gyuuniku o tabemasen, demo tamago to chiizu ga ii desu… But they don’t seem to have a strong tradition of customizing dishes. At least I haven’t noticed many people making special requests, and I don’t feel entirely comfortable rocking the boat yet.

All of this led me to a liberating thought: It’s okay to avoid the local chow when traveling. Of course you should at least make an effort. Drop in on a local restaurant and try the food. Learn as much as you can in advance to avoid unpleasant surprises.

Be brave. Gambatte kudasai.

But if you don’t like it, or if they profoundly misunderstand your dietary needs, you don’t have to go back. Just find some pizza and be happy. The french fries at Ueno Zoo are pretty good.

One related mystery has been solved. The Japanese people tend to be very thin and healthy. I think this is because they don’t eat much and they walk a lot. Especially on stairs.

Bed time. Tomorrow will start early.

Yesterday we wandered around Jinbocho. I bought a few books meant for children of varying ages. They should be good for reading practice.

The stores also had many excellent books in English, some about buddhism and asian history. Several stores seemed to be mostly manga. But nothing that I needed at the moment.

Then we went to Roppongi, a very fashionable area. We had supper at a nice Indian restaurant in the Roppongi Hills complex. They aren’t really hills, just very tall buildings…

We walked through Roppongi to Tokyo Tower. The view was excellent from the observation level, about 50 stories up. I posted some video clips from walking around the perimeter there and on the cafe deck one level down. The “special” observation level (much higher) was closed due to weather.

Today we’re packing up to go to a different hotel. It’s supposed to have internet access too. Tomorrow we fly home.

Yesterday we visited Ueno Zoo. After that we went to a British-style pub for supper and then to a grocery store for breakfast items. Then it was time to go back to our room and rest.

After a while I got tired of staring at the walls of our little room and needed to walk. So I went out to look for pachinko. It was raining.

Pachinko apparently is a sort of gambling machine based on pinball. That’s about as far as I got once I found a pachinko parlor. It was too loud, too smoky, too flashy, and had no English instructions. In fact it didn’t have much in the way of Japanese instructions either.

So I set out again. And promptly got lost. The rain was getting heavy, and the wind was strong. Eventually I found my way back to where we had exited Ueno Park earlier. Crossing the street back towards the JR station, I talked with a young lady who was struggling with her umbrella too.

Me: “iana otenki ne?” (Bad weather huh?)
Her: mumble mumble (lost over the wind) “taihun!”

I didn’t understand.

Me: “sumimasen, wakarimasen, sukoshi hanashimasu” (various apologies)
Her: “sukoshi hanashimasu? taihun! american hurricane!”
Me: “AH! taifun! ame ga takusan furimasu!” (ah! typhoon! lots of rain falls!)

I had forgotten that Japanese people tend to blend their F and H sounds.

I figured a bit of understatement would be both mildly amusing and compatible with my current vocabulary level. She laughed like it was the funniest thing ever. Silly gaijin.

When I finally got back to my hotel, a trio of english-speaking tourists were in the lobby trying to arrange for the only room still available. I recognized them from worldcon. They told me that nobody could fly out due to the typhoon.

Huh?

Up to my room, turned on the TV… Sure enough, I had gone out looking for pachinko in a typhoon. Typhoon Fitow was making landfall. The nice lady hadn’t been exaggerating after all.

Dana and I slept through most of it. It’s out of the area now. Today we’re going to shop for books at Jinbocho.

Some of the formula phrases drilled into my head by Pimsleur were how to ask where something is and interpret the response. Usually the things being asked about were parks and train stations, specifically in Ueno and Shinjuku. So every time I’ve seen either place name written down somewhere, a little voice has popped into my head and asked:

“shinjuku-eki wa doko desu ka?”
“ueno-koen wa doko desu ka?”

We already found Ueno Station (ueno-eki). Today we might go looking for Ueno Park (ueno-koen). The map says it’s on the other side of the station.

I’ve learned that tourist maps and guide books are both vital and unreliable. This is especially true if the map mentions hiking. In standard tourist guide terms, “hiking trail” means “Goat Path”. So unless your ancestry is at least 1/4 goat, hiking is not something to do more than once per vacation. Similarly, “walking trail” is code words for “Death March”.

Here’s an example. The other day we went to Kamakura. It’s a pleasant little place. After pulling into the JR station, we found a convenience store and bought some onigiri to pack for lunch, and then walked to the beach. Which has black sand and lots of sharp broken shells and ceramic bits. But anyway.

Next we walked to Hase-dera, home of ancient chinese coins, a big shiny indoor statue, and lots of little outdoor statues. Finally we visited the daibutsu — the Great Buddha that practically defines Kamakura to the outside world.

After that was when the problem started. We were sunburned and dehydrated. We wanted to find the next few points of interest quickly. Two tourist maps and the Lonely Planet guide book all suggested a hiking trail. It would avoid ground traffic, it was fairly direct, and the various shrines were just a few steps down. The pictures that I had seen online strongly implied that it was a fairly flat trail.

Here’s what it really looked like:

The picture doesn’t really do justice to the altitude climbed. And that was the easy ascent. Actually getting to that point involved a heart-pounding sprint up several stories of steep steps. Unfortunately I don’t have a photo of them.

The shrines really were close to the trail — horizontally. Vertically, it would have been a sheer drop. We ended up doing a lot more walking and climbing than was really necessary. Before long we figured out that we could, indeed, have taken a lower path. We were practically there already when we turned and went up the trail. But the street signs didn’t mention one specific shrine that I wanted to visit, which sort of implied that it was only accessible from the trail.

Nope, it was just too small and unprofitable to merit its own special signs. At least we found the shrines. We washed our money at one. Good clean fun!

So. Hiking trails. Goat paths. I’m off to look for Ueno Park. Maybe the zoo too.