P is for Pagoda

One of my life goals is to see a pagoda. So:

Check. Done. Next.

This would be the first of many pagodas I saw. Did each lessen the majesty and awe of the buildings? NO. Look at them! I only wished that we could had walked through one so I can finally see how one gets to the next floor. But I didn't want Japan to deport me on the basis of breaking and entering historical sites.

Next time.

Jetlagged

David, Angelina, and I arrived in Tokyo after all the airport lines and train stops around 8 pm. After dinner, we made a very valor attempt to go to bed at 10 pm.

Six hours later, I woke up and realized, "Shit, I'm jetlagged and can't go back to sleep." My shuffling around woke up Angelina and our whispering alerted David of our conscious state. So at five am, we sat up in our beds, bleary-eyed and ponderous of our next actions.

So we high tailed it to the Sensoji shrine. At 6am. On a Saturday morning. Because we're bloody brilliant.

There were three shops opened and seven people walking around at that time. It didn't help that we made up three of those seven folks. Deserted and quiet like a zombie film, we ambled down a large (and closed) market street to the shrine. The closer we go to the shrine, the larger of a waft we got from the incense.

We came back five hours later to do souvenir shopping and that same ghosttown street turned into a regular hustle and bustle avenue. As if a shrine deity snapped his finger and Poof! People!

We look like giants

I joked around that in Japan I would tower among the Japanese female population as a 5'3" giant. I was close to doing so. But mainly in our hotel where the doorways were really short. I am not standing on my tippy toes in that picture nor am I wearing five inch heels. That's me in all my five foot three glory.

As we walked through alleys and marketplaces, I reigned over these tiny obba-chans* with their crooked backs and four feet eight statures. I only wondered, Where did they buy their clothes? At the Tiny Clothes Emporium?

*grannies

Sardines

Japanese hotel rooms are notoriously small. I had warned my traveling companions beforehand so we all braced ourselves for the worse and luckily had low standards. This was our room, just enough for a full size bed and a twin on the floor. Walk space was nonexistent as you can see to the left of the picture. Behind us was the bathroom about the size of a closet and I banged my knee on the sink while trying to get out of the shower. But the bathroom made up for it with its heated toilet. Something that I would thank the toilet gods for many times in our trip.

Tales from Nippon

December is a frigid month where I tend to spend my days under bed covers and wish that the holiday season was over. It's too much and too overwhelming. Lights, people, parking lots, and this crunch for time. No, thanks.

So because I didn't blog any tales from when I was over in Japan for my brief stint, here's an entry for each day of the month retelling an event.

The Tokyo Metro is amazing! And with Ang's handy dandy book, we were able to figure out transfers and final station destinations easily and quickly.

They need maps for the city tacked on every street corner though or GPS system attached to the legs of tourist because our second to last day, she and I ventured to Shibuya and got pretty lost. I didn't realize it until our fifth alley, but we were in the Love Hotel district. When I did, I couldn't stop laughing and kept peering any any couple that walked down the alley, curious if they had stayed for a short rest or a full night stay. Now I regret not taking pictures of the hotel signs that ranged from Princess Hotel to Love Romance.

Sadly, that wasn't the only red light district I ventured into during my stay in Tokyo and Kyoto. Though, in my defense, it was the only one that I walked around in unintentionally.

Deutschland!!! 2010!

Don't be fooled, I'm not actually going to Germany next year, although I would love to during June to watch the World Cup along side the German folks. Then we'll all cheer and hug each other when they win the Cup. Like they should have in 2006 against Italy. Four years later, I'm still fuming over that game. HOW??? WHY??? Mainly, how did Italy score those two goals in overtime? Within five minutes of each other? My heart sank and I felt it break into a million tiny pieces, while my mom cheered and shouted "Goal!!!!" In her defense, she shouts that every time a team scores.

FIFA had the group draw a few nights ago and I've been charting my proposed winners. The first two countries listed are the ones that will advance.

Group A: France, Mexico, South Africa, Uruguay,
Group B: Argentina, Greece, Nigeria, South Korea,
Group C: England, United States, Algeria, Slovenia
Group D: Germany, Ghana, Australia, Serbia,
Group E: Netherlands, Cameroon, Denmark, Japan
Group F: Italy, Paraguay, Slovakia, New Zealand,
Group G: Brazil, Ivory Coast, Portugal, North Korea
Group H: Spain, Chile, Switzerland, Honduras

So Cammie's prediction:
France will easily sweep Group A but the real game to watch for is SA v Mexico. It's hometown advantage for a ranked 118th team vs 15th rank team with some instability in their last few qualifying matches. I hope South Africa comes as the winning underdog in this round, or at least in the opening game.

Argentina is the favored team for Group B with Greece following up. I say Greece because I've heard good things about their defense boys. Now here's hoping that they live up to the hype.

Oh Group C, you will have an interesting match for me. Everyone in the freaking world will be the England v US as it's got a storyline fit for a telenovela. Previous teammates that have to battle it out on worldwide circuit? Holy soccer balls. Donovan, Becks, show me whatcha got!

I know that Germany will lead this group but it's a toss up for who could also qualify. Ghana's strong but we'll see what happens on June 23 when they play each other. But Australia, oh Australia, you seem like a wild card.

Netherlands will be the top qualifier but it'll have to earn that spot in its match against Denmark and Cameroon. Cameroon's my dark horse for this group as they're normally a solid team but the Dutch might say otherwise. Japan is my complete dark horse. They won't come out as qualifiers but they might shake things up for Denmark and Cameroon.

Group F is straightforward. Italy will be top qualifier and I don't care too much about the other 3 teams. So it'll be a battle between Paraguay and Slovakia. New Zealand, I have no idea how they even qualified for the World Cup.

Group G is the Group of Death this year. Blood will be shed on the field between Brazil, Ivory Coast and Portugal that I honestly don't know who will qualify. I do know North Korea shouldn't bother coming to South Africa for these matches. Just give those other countries their automatic 3 points.

Finally Group H. La Roja is the top ranked team right now so I will be very surprised if Spain doesn't qualify. Switzerland and Honduras are pretty weak teams so Chile got lucky in the group draw. What happens after this group, I can't say but I don't see them advancing any further.

So, we've done the round robin matches. Let's move onto the Round of 16, alright? Then single elimination! Just kidding. I would need to draw an actual chart but I'll say right now, if the US clears Group C, I will have a heart attack in the Round 16 as they will then play Germany. I wouldn't know who to cheer for! My home country (Donovan, Dempsey, Howard, Team USA!) or my beloved Deutschland (Ballack, Klose, , don't let me down!) Ahhhhhhh, I'm going to have a breakdown now as I figure this out.

God, and the sad thing is, the World Cup isn't happening until June. I've got 186 days till then. And I also bet you didn't know I loved football this much.

Under covers

It's starting again. That dull ache that whirls in the pit of my stomach that I can feel it fester. It's a parasite and I want it out. I want this longing to be gone because I want to close my eyes and not picture neon lights.

The post-travel high is the worst. Because the nostalgia sets in and that sense of freedom from all responsibilities. For a week, I was a tourist, a stranger, a traveler in some new-found land. And it was beautiful, the way you stumble upon the perfect night with your best friends. Those nights just happen and you wake up with acceptance that it was a chance of a lifetime. So now, I lay to waste in awful memories.

This happened last year after Europe. Each night, I saw spires. Now I see neon lights and there's an anguished grip on my heart. Or it could the nicotine withdrawal. And knowing my body and it's lack of poetic license, it is probably the latter. Oh, Tokyo, take me back.

Sad reality knows that I can go back, but what would I do there? Honestly speaking, I'd be a poor sack of bones in Japan. All the responsibilities that I've shirked at home will catch up, or just pile upon me in the new city.

Tough luck, eh?

But it's ok. The ache will pass until I'm left with a scar and it will be replaced by something, some place else. Belize, 2011. I'm looking at you, kid.