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Published: August 1st 2006
Freddy finally got himself to Japan, despite that horrendous flight and vapid Air Canada food; he arrived in one piece, carrying enough Canadian paraphernalia to outfit a Mounties’s command centre.
I think dad actually confused his Asian destination for one of his usual arrival cities, as he was dressed in a Hawaiian shirt when he walked through the gates. His exhausted yet delighted smile and nostalgic hug, made my trek down to Tokyo completely worth it, and we enjoyed our first beers together while we waiting for the bus to take us into the "over populated hell" which some call, Tokyo.
We stayed at an incredibly swanky local by my standards, the Shinagawa Prince Hotel. Poor Melissa and David had to suffer through a closet sized room when they visited, but with dad footing the bill, we managed to score a room with a bathroom! (Yes, the smallest things now amuse the heck out of me!) Our first stop was to feed my poor father who had traveled such a long way to see his eldest daughter. Against the usual etiquette of "The Fred Program", we actually dined at a family-style buffet restaurant in the hotel lobby. I did
Background noise
Dad was convinced that the market would be the PERFECT place to film a martial arts filmmy best to appease his feeding needs, but I was later met with,
"Kryst! I'm a big guy! I need to eat more then a little rice and some raw fish!" Next time I will try harder father, I promise (insert Japanese bow, here).
Since my father takes great pride in waking his children up in the morning, I wasn't a bit surprised when he drew the curtains of our hotel room at 5am to allow the just-rising sun to burn my retina. "Thanks dad...like the never ending boar-like death sounds you made all night weren't enough to deprive me of sleep, you feel the need to wake me up before I've even properly fallen asleep. I love you dad. Glad to have you here!"
As many of you know, I don't function properly at 5am (or at any other time of the day) WITHOUT a cup of coffee, so off we trotted to utilize our free breakfast coupons for what dad later reviewed as "the worst piece of crap breakfast I've EVER eaten, I spat my artificial miniature sausage on the floor! Kryst, we're never eating in this hotel again. We're on “The Fred Program” from now
on!" Yes, sir... (Now racking my brain to try and remember exactly what "The Fred Program" was, and if I had an outfit in my pack that would work for it...)
Our first stop on the "Krysta-guided tour of Tokyo" was the Tsukiji Fish Market. This is the largest fish market in all of Japan and is open to the public from 6am, after the auctions take place.
(It used to be open earlier and the public was allowed to watch the fish being auctioned off but too many stupid tourists were getting in the way, and possibly a few were run over with fish carts?! I'm not too sure...) Dad LOVED the market. He was convinced it should be the backdrop for the next Chuck Norris* martial arts movie.
*Chuck Norris was once a pretty tough guy, and he could find his way around a karate dojo pretty well, not to mention always beat the bad guys in all those movies I was FORCED to watch as a child. But…now he does infomercials. Don’t let my dad know 😉
We walked through row upon row of strange sea creatures, gigantic muscles, severed tuna heads, maybe even Nessie
the lochness monster, and my favorite: the men who were not-so-carefully chopping fish heads off. Oh, good times ladies and gents! The memory of the retched “American breakfast” had passed, and dad was completely immersed in the surrealism of the moment.
“You just wouldn’t believe all this, if you didn’t see it with your own eyes eh Kryst?!” “Yeah, for sure dad, fish guts are magical!”
I was secretly so happy that I had actually brought him somewhere he was genuinely impressed with…since I had failed in the “feeding him” portion of the trip, twice thus far. (Score ONE for Krysta!)
After a quick jaunt to Starbucks (yes, the same one I took Melissa and David to in Tsukiji), we again boarded the Tokyo Metro system (subway) and made our way to the Asakusa district. When we arrived, I pointed out the shoebox hostel David and I had stayed in, just 5 short months ago… oh good memories of Davey and I on bunk beds.
KAY! So…in Asakusa we walked around the market area, I forced some Japanese sweets on my father and then we posed for rainy pictures in front of the temple. We had
our fortunes told by the brilliant (yet horrendously touristy) “sticks in a can” method and after wallowing in our “Not so Great Fortune” results, we tied them together and then put them on the rain soaked wishing tree so that the Japanese Gods might find it in their hearts to bring us at least ONE* freakin’ day without rain!
*No, it never happened.
We walked around the Asakusa district for a while longer and accidentally stumbled onto the Kabuki district! It was great! I had seen pictures of these theaters for years, but never actually knew where they were. We admired the heavily made-up men in the posters, and were oddly enough struck with the desire to take some “purikura”. For those who don’t know, purikura is when you pay 400yen ($4) to squeeze into a box with your friends, take a couple pictures, then decorate the crap out of them before dividing them up, to plaster on every surface you can find! This happens to be my favorite Japanese hobby, and I don’t care about any ridicule you happen to throw my way, I love it!
We then made our way to Shibuya, and after walking
Asakusa Market Temple
Outside the Kabuki Theatre around for an hour, found a delightfully cute restaurant with no line, which served vegan-friendly food and had comfy chairs to rest our weary legs! (Score TWO for Krysta!)
Having not lived at home for so long, I’ve let many things escape my mind, and one important fact I had obviously forgotten was how short my father’s patience can be. And I must admit, living in Japan has taught me to be incredibly patient with everyone, so I was jolted when dad kicked this poor lost man’s suitcase!
Hahahahaha….oh dad…(I think he even cut his foot a little?!)
Anyways, we had a little chat about his patience-factor and I hope I’ve inspired him to breathe a little easier. (I predict Fred is rolling his eyes at this paragraph of the story, and telling me to get off my high horse).
After a quick nap back at the hotel and several info-gathering calls down to the concierge, I decided on taking dad to the Park Hyatt Tokyo*. By far, the nicest hotel I had ever heard of in Tokyo.
*yes, the same hotel from the film “Lost in Translation” (cool, eh?!)
We arrived by
taxi and were greeted in perfect English and were gently ushered into the first floor lobby which was dark and beautifully decorated with one solitary simplistic statue. The only direction to go was into the elevators, so off we went. And for those of you wondering, yes, it did seem like a secret sect or cult room, but it sure beat the pants off the Asakusa Youth Hostel! We went up to the 52nd floor and had a couple drinks in the New York Bar, and my goodness!!!!!! Was that ever the best cosmopolitan martini I’ve ever had! And dad relished the fact that the bartender knew how to pour more then beer and sake! (Score THREE for Krysta!)
We dined 10 floors below on grilled snapper and a French soup so tasty that it had my father still drooling over it a week later. It was a beautiful evening that I could never have afforded to myself, a nice reminder of what “The Fred Program” was like, and the perfect memory to keep me going when I’m dining solely on plain bread and goat milk next month in Mongolia…:P
The next morning, dad accompanied me to the
The "Fred" Program
Dinner at the nicest restaurant in Tokyo...gotta love daddy footin' the bill at the Park Hyatt! Chinese Embassy in the Hiroo district, (close to Ebisu) so that I could apply for my Chinese VISA. The long walk there was beautiful, albeit, in the pouring rain. Hiroo is a delicious mix of foreigners from every walk of life, there’s a different consulate office or embassy on every corner, and a great urbane café at the bottom of the hill, which we sat at while watching the goings-on of the local ‘Hiroians’. It was such a nice way to end our stay in Tokyo.
By Shinkansen (bullet train), we headed north to Miyagi prefecture, to expose dad to the countryside life that I’ve immersed myself in for the past three years. Upon meeting my car “Chuggers”, dad instantly wanted to be back in his own Mercedes “lifestyle”. I admit, Chuggers is a tad old, and may make more noise then a colicky baby, but he’s still mine, and mine alone, and once dad realized he was hurting my feelings by making fun of my baby, he lay off, and Chuggers and dad became good friends. (Anyone who makes fun of me for personifying my car is gonna get a firm ass whopping!)
With little time to
Fred's first go at ramen
Dad tried a few different variations of ramen over the week, but nothing compared to that first bowl outside Shinagawa station on that cold rainy day. spare, we got ourselves cleaned up and were picked up by one of my “Japanese mothers” (Sano-san), and were taken to the welcome party that my Adult Conversation class was having for dad. In the parking lot, the moment I had been dreading for the past month took place, dad met the boyfriend:
“Umm, dad? This is my boyfriend Makoto Utsumi.”
“Hello Mr. Banwell. How do you do?” (enter practiced handshake here)
(Agonizing silence) “Hello Matokayo.”
“Ah, dad, his name is actually Ma-ko-to.”
“That’s what I SAID!”
(Torturous silence while dad still grips Makoto’s hand)
“Okay! Well, let’s go inside!” (Affirming smile to Makoto to confirm that my father will probably not kill him that night).
We had a wonderful night and everyone was so kind to my father and they said some really nice words about me, which of course is always nice 😉 Dad had a chance to speak to almost everyone a little bit, and he greatly enjoyed the attempt at Western cooking that the Bosukoro restaurant ventured to generate. Next came the entertainment part of the evening. Makoto had prepared three songs on the violin in an arduous attempt to impress my father. First
Dad meets "the ipod"
"Krysta, these damn trains are so bloody loud!"
"Relax dad, listen to some Johnny Cash on the ipod for awhile...and stop complaining." he played “Oh Canada” (which we both embarrassingly sang to), then knowing of Fred’s admiration for all things Italian, played “Bessame Mucho” and then the classic, “Four Seasons”. I later read in an email that Fred was actually genuinely impressed…and I quote, “Well, when you add it all up, I guess he is a pretty talented guy. He plays 4 instruments, has a black belt in judo and is a police officer. Tell Makoto I appreciate his effort.” (Score FOUR for Krysta!)
Since I’m coming up on the end of my tenure in Japan, it was of the utmost fortunate timing that Dad was going to be at my base school the very day I was to give my farewell speech to the whole school. I even translated my speech into English for him before hand, so he could understand what I was saying. I spoke in some seriously impressive Japanese to my students and fellow teachers, and managed to keep my tears in check, and not cry all over the gym stage. The head of the student council (Miyuki) also came up and said some kind words in English,and I scored some pretty sweet flowers!
We later
lunched with two other teachers at the local hot spring restaurant, and I had the ridiculous challenge (or rather misfortune) of having to translate investment and stock market facts from Fred to countryside teachers for a whole hour. Thank goodness I had drank the night before…
That afternoon, we made a quick venture over to my visit school in Matsuyama. We chatted for a little while with Kocho and Kyoto-sensei (Principle and Vice-Principle) and my fellow English teachers and then went on a tour of the school lead by Kyoto-sensei. Thankfully, they all had lovely things to say about me, and my ego was once again too large to leave the room through the small doorframe.
Thursday night, we drove into Ishinomaki to have a welcome party with my Bijou Takahashi adult English group. They were all so lovely and gave dad a jimbe of his very own (a summer yukata for men). He loved being dressed up in the kimono all samurai like, and the ladies went a little wild for him!
“Oh Furedo! Nice body!!! Hehehehehhehehe” (touching his shoulders etc)
“Um. Gross! Ladies, stop! He’s my dad! Ew!”
He had a traditional meal that
Aizawa san.
enough said. I’m sure didn’t fill up The Fred, but it was a great experience for him and he declared that night his favorite out of his whole visit. The ladies also gave me some of my farewell presents that night so I could send the big ones home with dad. Tomoe’s mom, Miyoko made me a gorgeous 3D design of a traditional Japanese woman (I really don’t know what to call it), just look at the picture. I can’t wait to hang it up in my bedroom at home!
When dad was sufficiently filled with beer and all the Canadian paraphernalia had been distributed, we headed back to Wakuya.
On Friday, our only real plans were to have dinner with a bunch of my foreigner friends in Sendai. Luckily, before we left, dad’s shirts arrived back from the Shinagawa hotel (which he left in the closet). I swear I felt a tad motherly towards my dad. He really does need to be taken care! My step-mom Franca sure does have her work cut out for her!
Friday night was a blast. Dad picked up the tab for my friends and me to share a hotel room and he
Osama janken
What welcome party is complete without a round of "rock/paper/scissors?" (Osama janken in J) had his own “Fred time” at the Sendai Hotel. We met Tim and Nao, and after an initial threatening of Tim’s life to find us a nice bar to have a drink at, everyone relaxed a while and the wine started flowing (for me anyways…Dad was onto vodka by then).
10 of my friends, dad and I, dined on American style sushi and it was AWESOME! I drank a tad too much wine though and didn’t feel so hot the next day, at least I had dad there…to make fun of me of course.
Saturday morning, dad and I took our last stroll around Sendai and had a sobering coffee with Nicky, Tim and Nao. We walked up to the Shinkansen platform in Sendai station and all of a sudden, a HUGE crowd of young Japanese kids yelled “Krysta-sensei!!!” I was so taken aback, but then I noticed they were students from Sendai East High School who I had led in a conference last February. I was so touched they ALL remembered my name and without thinking, just LEAPT towards me! I think it was really nice for my father to see those kids, and see how involved
The violinist: Makoto
Makoto tried so hard to impress my dad...who knows if it actually worked! I’ve been in so many lives.
So, after leaving the screaming students from Sendai East, we took dad’s bags up to the train and I sent him off. It was pretty sad to see him go, especially because we had had SUCH a nice time together. It took three years of guilt tripping my father into coming to visit me, and I know he had an amazing, once in a lifetime trip. I’m pretty proud that the tables have turned a little, and I can now introduce my father (and the rest of my family) to things in this world that he (they) would otherwise never experience.
In between dad leaving and my best friend from Canada arriving, I only had four hours to myself! All I did was sleep without ear plugs for the first time in a week. Oh, it was so nice!
Stayed tuned next week for “Kitty-chan’s Adventures in J-land”!
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Feroze
non-member comment
Thanks
Thanks for the wonder blog Krysta, I feel like I've experienced the "Fred Program" along with you. Amazing pics, and adventures, thanks for making me a part of them. Come back to us soon.