Upon arrival at Kansai International Airport—an airport which sits, coincidentally, on a man-made island consisting of compacted garbage that experts alarmingly conclude is slowly sinking into the ocean—I went through customs, picked up my baggage, and met up with Lori, a kind lady who is also my co-worker at Kobe Kaisei school. Lori volunteered to guide me from the airport, which is in Osaka, to my apartment in Kobe. This was a task Lori performed quite well, and I am appreciative of her efforts.
The next few following days are a bit of a blur, as I was suffering both jet-lag and a nasty flu I contracted on the airplane (thanks again, air travel!). In the haze I managed to fill out an application for my gaijin-card (all foreigners who reside in Japan for an extended period of time must have a gaijin-card, which tells authorities that even though they’re foreigners, it’s sort of OK for them to be there), open an account at the Sumitomo Mitsui Banking Corporation, and sleep off the flu for a day or two at my new apartment.
Speaking of my new apartment, it was quite a pleasant surprise to move into a home which had been fully furnished. Denise Wright, the friend who lived in this apartment before me, kindly left all sorts of nice things for me, including a toy robotic turtle which can scoot itself across the dining room table while making burbling electronic noises. This toy, and Japanese television, provided much-needed distraction as I sat shivering for a couple days in a snot-soaked fever.
After about four or five days, the symptoms of my flu had waned enough that I could venture out regularly into Sannomiya, the lively heart of Kobe, for extended periods of time. It’s there that I rediscovered the Manboo internet and comic café. Manboo is quite an extraordinary operation, with walls of comic books of dubious-content, free slurpee and coffee machines, bathrooms, and even showers. I haven’t used the showers, yet—I just noticed them on a map of the place. The big draws for me are the little booths which contain the primary means of my international correspondence—e-mail. In each booth is a nice leather recliner, leather foot rest, TV+DVD, flat-screen monitor, internet-ready computer, little safe (I have no idea why this is here), and a pair of slippers (ditto). I usually rent the booths out in three-hour blocks for a mere 819 yen—about $8.
The other noticeable things in Sannomiya are all the fashionable young people. Readers of this blog who have laid eyes on me will attest to my complete ignorance and disinterest in matters of fashion, but here I have started feeling quite perceptive to it. Most people I see are my age (mid-20s), the kind of age group which typically cares little for correct sentence structure (this is my way of apologizing in advance for the next sentence). The men usually dress according to one of two themes: the first is some sort of crazy punk-look, which includes wild, dyed hair, camouflaged pants, vivid pink or purple shirt, and brightly-colored Converse shoes; the second theme is that of business suit, of which there are two different kinds of suit-wearers: the first kind are legitimate “salary-men,” the name given to young professionals for whom freshly-pressed suits are necessary for their jobs; the second kind of suit-wearers belong to a group I call “Crazy 88s” or “Goons.” These guys are indeed wearing business suits, but their suits are oversized and worn loose so they can flap in the wind, with loosely-tied ties around their necks and unkempt hairdos. The second-kind of suit-wearers usually roam in packs, and, although they do indeed look cool, they’re also kind of scary-looking for some reason—like they’re hellish businessmen from an alternate reality of Japan. Or Crazy 88s from Kill Bill Vol 1.
As for the women . . . well, let me just say that Kobe seems to be inordinately comprised of young women. They’re everywhere, and they’re usually wearing two types of outfits. The first outfit I would describe as business-formal, with dark knee-length skirts, white blouses, and dark blazers. (Do business women wear blazers? What do they call that blazer-looking garment worn over blouses? I’m calling them blazers.) The second group of women are quite eye-catching: they usually wear tight sweaters, very short miniskirts, and knee-high leather boots with 4-5 inch spike heels. I’m told this is Japan’s cold-weather fashion. On warm-weather days, leather boots are discarded in favor of thigh-high stockings and high-heeled strapped sandals. These women (both booted and stockinged varieties) usually teeter around in their high heels in a pigeon-toed fashion, a walking-style affected to maintain to culturally-determined standards of cuteness, from what I’ve read. When I see women like this in a train station, part of me thinks it is kind of sexy and cute, but the other part of me fears that some young woman will, with one carelessly-placed and trembling footstep, simply topple off the station platform and onto the tracks of an oncoming train. Fashion around here is quite fascinating, but also a bit unsettling for a variety of reasons.
And, on that note, I’ll end this post. Next time I’ll discuss my school, Kobe Kaisei College, and perhaps my journey into Osaka’s Den-Den Town to purchase a computer monitor.
Until then, assuming I can correctly post it, please enjoy this picture of fashion motif I would like to see someday.
4 comments:
longgggg post... spend some time to read it... :p
Yes, yes, that's all very interesting, but did you have any more bowel movements?
And what's the difference between a "significant" bowel movement and an insignificant bowel movement?
Does the latter fall under the old saying, "Here I sit, broken-hearted. Tried to s**t, but only farted?"
Dear Friends:
Please trust me when I say that all your bowel movement questions will be answered thoroughly and in due time. I plan on spending eight or nine postings on this topic alone.
In the mean time, allow me just to say that if you don't know what a "significant" bowel movement is, you've likely never had one.
Your friend in poop,
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