One of my favourite things to do is wander around different neighborhoods in Tokyo, meandering through back streets and discovering interesting shops off the beaten track. You find small specialty shops, eclectic places that devote themselves to one specific product or service, and random buildings that make you wonder what they are for. Here are some pictures, random buildings, coffee roasters, small tiny parks nestled in downtown areas. On another note, there are a lot of seemingly innocent things in Japan which make my skin crawl. Just like any country, there is a great deal of propaganda, manipulation and secrecy from the government that really makes you wonder about how such a developed, incredible country can be so corrupt. For example, here is an advertisement in the subway promoting produce and food from the Fukushima area. The government has made a big push to help promote the farmers and agriculture from that area, which was devastated by the nuclear disaster a few years ago. But should they be doing this? There are countless reports of the government hiding information, covering up radiation leaks and lying about the safety of the area. If you have a young child, and you are buying these vegetables, you might be endangering their future health and safety. It's crazy to think there would be such a widespread media blitz to ignore those dangers.
Don't get me wrong though, Japan is no better or worse than countless other countries, the US and Canada included. Just look at the propaganda surrounding our fracking and tar sands operations and you can see the parallels. It's disturbing to see the same collusion of big business and government no matter where you travel around the world.
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I spent a lot of time walking, thinking and ruminating on the past, my life and what an authentic existence looks like, means and should be. These are nothing new, I've spent most of the last 15 years brooding over these same principles. I've gone through ups and downs, found temporary respite and comfort, and thought I had sorted some of it out. However the same questions always return, the self doubt, the feeling of being lost, malcontent, and disillusioned with the rat race we surround ourselves with.
As I spent time in Bear Pond Espresso, one of the trendiest and supposedly best coffee shops in Japan, and quite possibly, the world, I wondered where I fit into that scene. There was a collection of people who came through those doors while I sat and wrote. Backpacking foreigners, high school girls giggling after school, trendy fashion focused Japanese youth with perfectly ripped jeans and tussled hair. The old men, with battered broad brimmed hats mixed in with middle aged women sporting Bear Pond Coffee bandana's and coin collectors. Some were clearly there for the coffee, some for the atmosphere, a sparse, barely decorated cafe with only a handful of seats and a "No Pictures" sign welcoming you on the counter. The coffee was good, I had a single source cup of black coffee, and after a latte which was made with 3.5% fat milk. Smooth, delicate and delicious. But how satisfying was that really? What kind of person was I, sitting there writing in a brand new journal, with a fountain pen, wearing modern kimono inspired clothes and vintage rimmed glasses. What mask was I wearing to blend into that space? How much of me was simply there to be seen, to be accepted, or to stand out? I felt a mixture of self loathing and comfort brewing within me. The coffee was accompanied with a sense of unease. I couldn't sift through my own emotions, my motivations. I couldn't parse what was real or imaginary in my own motivations. I wish I was brave enough to admit my own hubris. To be able, in moments of quiet reflection, to bring out my own inner demons onto the page, to lay them bare and see myself without compromise. But that image of me, vanishes at the slightest hesitation. It is enmeshed in clothes which make me stand out, habits that I don't even know if I enjoy, and a desire to be misunderstood and unique. I hate it, and yet I can't shake it. I've said it before, the worst part is that this is nothing new, it is the same problems, the same neurosis I've suffered through and carried through all stages of my life. Perhaps I need something radical, something extreme to break the spell, to pull back the curtain on this charade and tap into something authentic. One of the real highlights for me of visiting Ayano's family is always the food. Whether its amazing home cooked meals, or eating at small local, incredible restaurants, the seafood, vegetables and food is always fresh, delicious and to die for. Aomori is famous for its rich farmlands, producing some of the best fruits and vegetables in all of Japan. Similarly, the seafood is famous as well, with scallops, sea urchin and all kinds of sashimi being highly prized and plentiful.
Some of the highlights were: Ayano's sisters Karaage, Japanese style fried chicken. Handmade, 90% buckwheat soba noodles. Sashimi, sashimi, sashimi! Miso ramen in real Aomori fashion All the home cooked meals by Ayano, her sister and her mother. So I haven't added anything here in quite some time, which is a shame since I should have kept up with writing and updating, but now that I'm on a bit of a vacation, I thought I'd take the chance to get back into the swing of things.
As of right now, I've just returned from the north of Japan, a small city Aomori, where I visited Ayano's parents and grandfather. It is a beautiful, scenic area, with mountains, beautiful coastlines, islands, amazing seafood, and of course, rice fields everywhere. Here are some photo's of my few days there, staying in Ayano's families old house, the one her grandfather actually built. In this first entry I will mostly focus on the scenery. In the next couple I will show some of the food and temples we visited. This really wasn't much of a sightseeing tour, since we just visited her grandfather in the hospital mostly, but even at that, it was incredibly beautiful and peaceful. Really makes me miss living here. |
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