A Tokyo Teaser

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“The Land of the Rising Sun” … it really evokes a mystical romanticism, doesn’t it? But as with all clichés, one can’t help but expect that it has been over hyped. So I hovered outside the airplane lavatory with nose pressed to the frosty emergency exit window to make my judgment. (Of course, anyone with a little bit of forethought would have selected a seat viewing east to catch Japan’s namesake in full swing.) I scrutinized the dark bubble-gum pink ball bringing the Pacific Ocean slowly into view. Frothy white foam slept on the deep blue waves below, with a broad band of coral floating and obscuring where the liquid horizon gives way to the clouds above - and all the while I am making these breathtaking observations over the roughly discernible island outlines below, the overly polite stewardess is gently tapping me on the shoulder, insisting that I return to my poorly chosen seat.

My flight back to the States to surprise my parents included a twelve-hour stopover in Tokyo, so I shuffled through the immigration line to make my way into the city for six hours of pavement pounding. Considering my long-standing fascination with the country, this was to be quite an abbreviated introduction, but I came armed with an itinerary personalized for me by an old college friend. As the train arrived to whisk us away, I was overwhelmed by the visual contrast from the past few months. The passengers were queuing up in orderly lines…the station was spotlessly clean…the ticketing system and every aspect of train travel was extraordinarily efficient and hi-tech. Women modeled cutting edge fashions, accessorized with extras I’d almost forgot existed: stockings, makeup, gelled-up hairdos, jewelry, perfumes, and handbags. A sea of overcoats, wool, scarves, hats, and boots in dull winter colors emerged when the doors opened - black, navy, gray, and an occasional tan or dark green… what a switch from the colorful saris, skirts, robes, etc. of Malaysia! Outside it was not quite snow weather, but it was cold enough to throw my body into shock - but this was just a 3 minute safety stop - practice for the “real” surfacing in the midst of Minnesota’s arctic winter.

Tokyo has amazing public transportation … once you can figure out the system, that is. Any future visitors should note that the subway trains and the “JR Line” trains are different transit networks, so the first step is figuring out which one you’re on before boggling your mind when you can’t find your destination on the map! And although signage seemed to generally include English translations, the giant subway maps telling you how much to pay to get to each station are only in Japanese characters.

Luckily, the city seems chock full of helpful people who recognize the befuddled look of confusion on a foreigner’s face. I was repeatedly approached by kind souls who led me in the right direction without my asking.

My first mission was to check out the Imperial Palace grounds. Leaving Tokyo Station I was surprised at how outdoorsy it felt, the autumn feel of yellow leaves on the trees, the crisp air that left the tip of the nose a bit frosty. Bicyclists and joggers often overtook me, while others sat on wooden benches admiring the molting swans gliding through the moat’s waters. I suppose my expectations of my first view of Tokyo were something like that of Wall Street in NYC…all concrete and glass, skyscrapers and taxicabs, wall-to-wall people in motion. I did, in fact, glimpse this side of Tokyo on my last stop. But I’m rather happy that I started off with this other view of what the city holds…a marriage of nature and industry, work and leisure, peace and stress.

My walk around the Imperial Palace was a series of blunders. First of all, I arrived on a Monday, and the gardens are closed on that day. Furthermore, having failed to closely examine the map, I wasted a lot of time walking all the way around the enormous moat-enclosed perimeter. After reaching the first ‘closed’ signs, I carried on, figuring that the entrances to other parts of the complex would still be open -

I was wrong.

While it was disappointing to have all those gardens and the palace close enough to touch but be denied entry, I wouldn’t say the walk was unenjoyable. The trees were really remarkable to me - I’m sure the commuters in their cars must have thought I had spent all my life in a concrete jail cell, the way I was staring with wide eyed wonder at something as commonplace as trees, but I’d never before seen them twist and arch to form these artistically contorted spreads. ‘Do they prune them to do so or have they merely succumbed to the magic of this fascinating island country?’ I wondered. As I circled counterclockwise, I felt that I was standing in the chasm of time, with the serene, in-touch-with-nature Japan of the imperial legacy on my left, and the Japan of the 21st Century with its futuristic skyscrapers, automobile traffic, and hi-tech public transportation systems on my right.

Naomi’s list next directed me to Sensoji Temple. I arrived around the time that schools let out for the day and saw the most adorable uniformed kindergartners marching out in line in their berets and overcoats to get picked up by Mom or Dad. The temple was buzzing with activity yet still exuded a peace that made one forget about all the traffic racing past its main portals. Bright red pennants and comical dragon faces welcomed the visitor along the stone walkway towards the main shrine. The central square held an altar of sorts where incense was burned. Young and old alike gathered around to waft the smoke up into their faces with their hands - a gesture I found slightly humorous when performed by some modern-day residents, faces cloaked in anti-pollution masks. Nearby a bronze dragon spews water into a communal drinking pool, where many small ladles are continuously at work, exchanged between the hands of temple goers.

Under an enormous red lantern, worshippers pause momentarily with hands pressed together and eyes closed before entering the main building. Inside are ancestral tablets and golden images, with people constantly coming and going offering short prayers and tossing clinking coins into a slatted box. The grounds held a number of stone Buddha sculptures set amid curvy, well-groomed gardens. All in all, it was a peaceful place to while away an hour or two, observing residents taking some time out of their harried modern lifestyle to observe these rituals.

From an oasis of spirituality I plunged headfirst into the heart of commercialism, the Shibuya district. Here I came face to face with the super chic mobile-toting trendsetters of Japan, completely in their element amidst the massive television screens, ultramodern shopping malls, billboards, boutiques, and hordes of equally well-dressed teens and twenty-somethings. While amusing to behold, I must have looked extremely malapropos - a Jolly Blonde Giant in my $10 orange windbreaker and generic tennis shoes that were “like, SO two years ago…” - and I felt equally out of place, drifting along in a leisurely gait whilst being dodged by the darting swanksters.

Meiji Shrine would surely offer a more hospitable welcome, but there’s only so much that can be accomplished in a whirlwind tour such as this. There was still one thing to check off of Naomi’s ‘must do’ list, so I ducked into the local ramen shop for a quick bite before heading back to the airport. Though rather unimpressed with the ramen (sorry, Na!), Tokyo itself surely whetted my appetite for more Japanese cliché-busting to be done in the near future!

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