Tokyoite Madness

Going around Tokyo is not a sinecure... Finding a specific place is a real challenged, even when you have a great sense of orientation – like me – you never know if you will end up at the right place. Streets have no names and Tokyoites are probably even less aware of what is where than you are. This city itself (without its suburbs) is worse than a bee hive, with 13 million people living in it and probably more people during the day time. This place doesn’t stop, doesn’t sleeps.

I have been to NY and honestly, Tokyo is way more grandiose, way more worth the long-haul flight and the jet-lag...

During the same day, my mood can oscillate between: I am in ecstasy, it is the best place ever, and why did I ever decided to come to this urban jungle where no machete seems to be resistant enough?

Today I took the train to the Takao Mountain at 5Okm West of Tokyo, I found myself in a real and lush sub-tropical jungle, with endless trees and amazing sightseeing, although I did not see the Fujiyama which was in the clouds, again (I already missed it from the Tokyo Tower cause it was way too cloudy).

I was actually happy to come back to Tokyo, the city of madness. I was happy to sit in the metro and gaze at this wide range of clothing and hair-style, from the much blunt business man: white shirt, dark suit and dark-red or blue tie; to the crazy ‘cosplay’ teenagers, gothic, manga and whatnot...

I feel at ease here, no one cares who you are, no one stare at you, no one is rude... what is up with us in the West? Go to Paris, London, Madrid, New York and you will always be confronted to some kind of rudeness... “Well you know, Western metropolis are crowded, busy and no one has time to be kind...” Well, Japan is part of the West, so why are they so relax, so kind and ready to help you?

I think we have much to learn from the Japanese... I think despite the ambient madness, Tokyo really is a nice place to fast and spend some days of the month of Ramadhan.

My Japanese Anachronism

After being stuck for 12 hours in a row in the smallest space I could possibly fit in, stuck between my mum and a 40 years-old -and loud- Japanese dude who was pretty much a visual expression of what I imagine is the Japanese pop culture: dyed hair, colourful shirt, interesting mix-match of jewellery; I landed in Narita, Tokyo.
Airports are similar to one another, no matter where you land. Except maybe, the extreme niceness and politeness of the indigenous population...
Japanese are calm, courteous, helpful and, to my highest pleasure, tidy and clean!

The weather is what I expected: extremely warm and humid... It smells and strangely feels like in my beloved Spanish village, where I spent all the summers of my childhood, Altea...

Finding our way to our hotel, using all kind of transportation modes and walking in all kind of places, gave me a good, whole, first glimpse of what Tokyo is. It is a rather strange mixture of what I have already seen.
The streets are organised squarely and are rather large... just like those in the USA or Canada. They are no cars parked in the streets, parking is organised like in NY; there are special plots all over the city where you pay to put your car.
The subway's architecture and shallowness also reminded me of NY's.
The architecture, just like the ambient air and feeling, is just like Spain or some corners of Latin America... it is crazy, I really felt like walking in a Spanish neighbourhood of the Costa Blanca, unless I was 7000 miles away...

Another resemblance that hit me is that they ride bikes just like in Holland, they love it and streets are organised in a rather similar way in order to allow people to ride easily and safely.
The orderliness in Japan reminds me of Britain, this all weird and almost magic love for rules and the deep, alienated respect Japanese, or Britons, have for them.

So far, I have not found any resemblance with my home-county... unless may be, the passion of the Japanese for good food.

I saw cemeteries that looked like nothing I have seen before. I know that Japanese have a sacred respect for their dead and they sort of worship them... The ancients are of the highest importance and this week is Obon week, the week celebrating the dead, during which Japanese travel to visit their families.
Japanese are eclectic in term of spirituality, a lot of syncretism if going on here... I would argue that they have a higher sense of the spiritual than the rest of the Western world... which is what I can compare them with in term of development and progress.

Japan is this strange anachronistic mix of traditions, ancient values and beliefs, with this extreme love for newness in technologies that are higher than high; for fashion, as they are always looking for the next stuff that would be the trend and which they abandon almost immediately, because the rhythm of life and discovery is proper hectic...

I am living in a proper anachronism, lost tracks of time with the 12 hours jet-lag (in my face!)

I strangely feel home here...

I think I do because of the animated cartoons I watched during my childhood. Creamy Mami, Ranma 1/2, Dragon Ball Z. I feel like I have been here before, I already walked down these streets, already saw been to these places, seen those ads, heard these people, and ate this food...

Men were these white terry towels on their heads, old people wear black (also like in Spain BTW), and women are hiding from the sun under these cute and tiny sunshades... I told you, it is familiar, I have been here before...

Looking back I never would have imagined,
From the first look until today, under the beam,
Such dazing adventures could have emanated.
Life is filled with restless emotions, yet serene.
A daily struggle, a battle, but without spite,
In a race for happiness, I flee confusion,
Shape me, I become unruly, full of insight,
Mind inside-out, should I give into temptation?

MaD
4 August 2010

Toga Of The Warrior

Losing myself in warrior games, intertwined flesh,
The smell is hardly familiar, finely timeless.
From the sheet, trapped, or rather, wrapped in a toga,
Feel prisoner, yet with a slight sense of éclat.
My odd desire to win you never leaves me,
Tights up the bars of my cage, suffocating me,
And drawing me closer from my own perdition.
Will I find the courage to answer the question?


Mariana Dussin
1st August 2010