White noise in Tokyo

It had been 20 years since she'd ventured so far from her countryside home town, but the imminent arrival of her daughter's baby and the curiosity of seeing how she lived had compelled her to come. The very fast journey by Shinkansen had caused a mild panic attack, as it seemed to her that surely such a mass of steel going at such a speed would go flying off the track at any moment. Closing her eyes helped, but her youngest son, who had also come along, had been very excited on the train, it being his first time to travel on the bullet. He kept tugging at her arm to look out the window to see something he had seen, and when she did all she saw was a blur of sickening motion.
When they arrived at Tokyo station, she couldn't see her daughter and husband on the platform, which caused her to begin sweating and wondering if they had had an accident on the way. Then she got a keitrai message from them, saying they'd just got to the station and would be there in a minute. So, not dead after all.
She was happy to see them both, but found it difficult to express it, seeing as the platform was swarming with far too many people, all jostling to either get off trains or get onto trains. It was chaotic, and she wished they'd all just go away.
They managed to navigate through the throng, down some extremely long escalators and then onto another busy platform to take them from Tokyo to Ebisu, where her daughter lived. "It'll take about 20 minutes, mum." The daughter said. 20 minutes, my god, that's like a life time. The seats on the train all faced inwards, and sitting like that, travelling sideways, made her immediately feel nauseous. So she turned her body awkwardly sideways, so that she was facing forwards, which felt a bit better.
The music chimed as they disembarked from the train, lending the whole scenario a dreamlike quality which she quite enjoyed. It reminded her of when she was at kindergarten and the teacher used to get all the children to play musical chairs. The anticipation of the music stopping always sent butterflies fluttering wildly in her tummy.
Out of the station and people kept zigging and zagging all around her. Some looked miserable and very tired, dressed in dark suits and carrying large briefcases. She saw a group of girls all wearing skirts that surely should be illegal, as they left absolutely nothing left to the imagination. And how could they wear them in the middle of winter? Then she saw a young man wearing a skirt, with a nail piercing out from under his lower lip. He also wore lots of dark make-up. Was this Tokyo, or some sort of dream world that she'd suddenly stepped into, maybe pied pipered in by the soothing station music?
It was much warmer here than in the countryside. With her heavy down jacket on, she felt like she was going to over heat. It didn't help matters that to get to her daughter's place, they had to climb a hill, which left her exhausted. If this was what living in Tokyo was all about, then there was absolutely no danger of her ever living here. Give her the wide open fields and the uncrowded roads any time of the day - yes please!
But there ahead of her stood her daughter, holding her husband's hand and turning in her stride to smile back at her. And she noticed then the bulge of her stomach, and what it contained inside, the thought of it, made her forget all her stress. Well, at least until the next train journey.

A state of apathy, unless in Japanese company

It seems remarkable in this age of blogs, vblogs and homepages, where everyone and anyone can share their thoughts and opinions with the world, that the act of voting for government has fallen so out of favour with so many people.
Now, I haven't conducted any sort of extensive research, but having discussed this matter with many a Japanese, most no longer vote in local or national elections. Why? Some can't see any relevance to what the politicians are sprouting to their own lives, some think the difference offered between those standing for election is so minute that they might as well be of one party, and others believe even if they vote, nothing will actually change.
I find this all very sad. The right to vote is surely the backbone of any democracy, a right which hasn't always been there. If recent local elections are of any indication of the trends in voting numbers, where less than 40% of the electorate cast their votes, then are we really living in a fully representative democratic nation? Is it not in fact going back to an old way of governance where a few decide what the majority must follow?
Further more, I was talking to a Japanese friend of mine yesterday, and he recalled when working for his first post graduate company, whenever an election was due to take place, the president of the company would call an all employee meeting, and tell them all who they must vote for! This riled my friend and he voted for the opposition candidate out of spite for his president's strong arm tactics, but I wonder how many of those gathered at that meeting simply accepted the order and did what they were told? Is this a sign of a democracy?
Looking at the current crop of top ministers in government here, you'll quickly find several dynasties going back many generations. The Prime Minister is the son of a former Prime Minister. The previous PM was the son of a leading minister. Where's the new blood which can generate new ideas? Sadly it is just not there, which just goes to reinforce another conception of politics here - an old boy network which benefits those in the loop and excludes those outside IE the general public.
Such a set-up can partly explain why the majority of people are no longer interested in involving themselves in politics, but I wonder how long this will last? Is it possible that some form of revolution could erupt and cause a sea change?

The man with the Gallic voice

I was in a local eatery today with Miyu, enjoying a large bowl of udon noodles and a large katsudon (deep fat fried port fillet on a bed of rice). I was so absorbed in eating, as I was very hungry, that I'd failed to notice the French man enter the restaurant and take up a seat behind us. I'd ascertained he was French because he was speaking to his colleague, telling him this was a cheap, but good quality Japanese restaurant that he really liked.
From listening to his voice, I got the strong impression that this was a tall, slightly over-weight and attractive man. He had a charismatic voice, which was a real joy to listen to. He chatted away whilst they ate, turning from the subject of food to office gossip.
So imagine my surprise when they were leaving and I could finally set sight of this man. He looked very Japanese! Short, balding and sweaty faced with a big beer belly and stumpy little legs. I did a quick scan of the restaurant to make sure he really was the source of that rich textured voice, and sure enough, it was. I couldn't believe how different he looked compared to the mental image of him I'd built in my mind.

Shadow cat

I caught sight of it out of the periphery of my vision, just as the sun was setting on Tokyo. It was about 20 metres in front of me, going uphill at a fast pace. As I watched it, it merged with the shadow of an on-coming pedestrian, up and into a wall and then when the man had passed, it re-emerged, it's fur glistening slickly as if it had just dipped itself in some premium oil. I quickened my pace, as I'd been told repeatedly by my wife that if you touched a shadow cat, you'll be guaranteed riches beyond your wildest dreams.
I think it must have realized that I'd spotted it, as it suddenly quickened it's pace. Luckily, I'd been doing a lot of sprint training recently, as our company sports day was due next month, and I wanted to win a medal. Even though I was in my suit and work shoes, I was able to gain on the elusive shadow cat, and I began to feel confident that I'd soon be stroking it and then looking forward to the cash piling up.
A big truck turned into the road I was running on up ahead, and the cat jumped into it's huge shadow. I followed, and thankfully, this being a narrow Tokyo back-street, I could keep up with the vehicle. The truck stopped. It was some sort of removal company van, and I skidded to a halt beside it, keeping my eyes fixed on the shadow lest the cat slipped out unnoticed.
I was breathing deeply through exertion and excitement at my future prospects. I could give up my stupid job and we could go and live on some paradise island.
Then came the screeching and the headlights, coming from my right, very, very fast. The next thing I knew, I was flying through the air, faintly aware that my legs felt soft and squelchy and my head was beginning to pound. Slowly, I came back to earth, landing quietly in my mind, and for a moment all was still. Then time caught up, and everything was too loud and far too painful. I blacked out.
When I came to and opened my eyes, I could see my wife and parents sat next to me. I was lying on a sheer white hospital bed, and there were a lot of tubes stuck in me. A machine beside me was beeping rhythmically, and it took me a few seconds to realize the noise was my heart transposed into electric signal. I was floating in cotton wool and I felt extremely stoned.
All of a sudden, from a shadow cast on the opposite wall made by my wife, the shadow cat emerged. It jumped out and landed on my chest. It dipped it's head down to my face and did a sideways stroke across my face, tickling my nostrils. I sneezed, loudly and the cat jumped straight back into my wife's shadow. I a dopey smile and closed my eyes.

Pounding the wall nonchalantly

Having recently discovered my local municipal gym, I try to make it down there three times a week. It's a pretty basic set-up in there, one treadmill, a couple of stationary bikes and about ten weight machines. There are no free weights, which is annoying, but for 100 Yen for one hour, I ain't complaining.
So there I was this morning, going from one machine to the next and building up a good sweat. About six other people were in there too, all quite old and probably retired. They looked pretty trim though, for their age. One dude sat down on a chair beside one of the windows. Tanned and well muscled, and an air of slight menace that I'd felt when I first saw him. He was watching me do some lateral pull-downs, and I tried to ignore him. After my second set, I looked over at him and he was still looking at me. It wasn't a curious, open stare, but an intense, cold beam that made me uncomfortable. I quickly looked away and started on my third set.
When I finished, a rhythmic "thump, thump, thump" started from his direction, and I couldn't help but look over. There he was, cool as a cucumber, still watching me with a sneer and punching the wall next to him with his bare right hand. These weren't little patsy slaps, but big pounding sledgehammers, piling into that wall like a bulldozer. I gulped and moved onto the next machine.
The punching continued as I began my reps. I tried to concentrate, but the more I tried to ignore him the more I wanted to look over at him, which I did. He was still looking right at me, and I don't know for sure but I don't think I saw him blink once. His eyes were black, hard and tiny, and they seemed to glint with terror. I was getting a bit scared now. Maybe he didn't like foreigners? Or maybe he didn't like newbies to the gym?
With these thoughts racing through my head, I continued the workout. Then suddenly, the pounding stopped, and he quickly stood up. He marched over to the pec squeeze machine, sat down and began doing reps. Every time he completed one rep, he'd let out a bass tonal grunt. He didn't stop for the remaining fifteen minutes I was there, and I'll tell you in a couple of days if he's still there, the nonchalant wall punching man.

High in the sky of mammon

I was up on the 48th floor of the Mori Building in Roppongi Hills today, to begin a new training course for one of our clients. Unable to book a room as the money makers had descended en mass to screech about making more money, we found a quiet corner next to floor to ceiling windows, offering a majestic night sky view of Tokyo. It was breathtaking. The client was a young currency dealer, who has aspirations to be a rock star and had just bought his parents a second hand BMW from a colleague.
Elsewhere that same day, but earlier, I passed a homeless man pushing a cart laden down with scavenged clothes. His face was almost black with the constant exposure to the strong winter sun. Salarymen passed him by in droves, ignoring him and making him nothing more than a fragment of some waking nightmare, quickly forgotten. I veered close to him, making sure he was, in fact, real and was almost floored by the stink that emanated from his dank body.
There's a lot of anguished writing at the moment, both here in Japan and abroad, regarding the ever widening poverty gap. The rich keep getting richer and the poor are disappearing down some bottomless hole where they can never escape. Towers of prosperity, propel the wealthy ever skywards and create cities within cities, where the key to entry is a fat wallet and the right connections. Mustn't be flash about it though, as this can lead to banishment, as has been amply demonstrated by the rapid rise and astonishing fall of internet tycoon, Takafumi Horie. He was in court about a week ago, crying big fat tears of bitterness at how unfair the authorities had been to him.
I reckon one of the reasons the higher powers came down on him like a tonne of bricks was because he just didn't give a ****. He didn't play by the rules and he waddled his fat arse in the faces of rich and poor alike, much like an old Harry Enfield creation, "Loads-a-money". Young people actually looked up to him, for being "more American" and independent, but he didn't give a **** - all he was interested in was waving his cash and shouting "okane ippai!"

Alcohol and caffeine

I did a little experiment during Jnuary, where I stopped drinking any booze nd coffee. Partly to detox nd also to see how it would mke me feel, seeing as I was imbibing both of those poisons on pretty much a daily basis.

Well, initially it was a tad uncomfortable. I suppose you could call it withdrawal symptoms. Slight headache over the first two days, coupled with constipation because my morning coffee also acted as a body poo flusher! After that though, things settled down. I felt much calmer and could sleep better during the night. Waking up in the morning was easier too, and I found it quicker to get going.

Overall, it was a very positive experience, and although I'm going to continue drinking both substances, I'm going to cut back a lot. Booze just for special occasions and coffee only in the morning (clean out the system, as it were!)

The Trailwalkers

As I mentioned before, I'm taking part in a sponsored hike in May, where in my team of 4 we'll be trying to complete 100km of mountainous terrain to raise funds for Oxfam Japan.
Here's a link to our homepage: THE TRAILWALKERS

We're aiming to raise 2,000 GBP / 480,000 Yen, so if you'd like to have the pleasure of knowing I'll be walking on a multitude of blistering pain for two days, then click on the link above, and go to our donate page, where you'll be able to pledge your support!

Aching and cramps

I'm sore all over at the moment, as I've been doing some training for an upcoming charity hike called "Trailwalkers", in May. I'll be posting a link to a funky HP which my friend and fellow team mate, Joseph, has set-up in order to raise funds for the walk. It's been organized by Oxfam Japan, and although there have been many such events in other countries, it'll be a first for Japan.

It's very exciting and challenging - 100km in 48 hours, starting in Odawara and ending in Yamanakako. That probably means absolutle nothing to you, but if you're familiar with the geography of those locations you'll realize it's very mountaineous. Meaning our legs are going to fall off, covered in huge blisters. So, training is called for, and Joseph and I have been meeting up to go on some runs and do some weight training.

I'm sure I'll get used to it soon, and the aching in me legs will subside, but at the moment it's pretty painful.

Coupled with my exercise induced pain, Miyu has been having some truly terrible stomach and lower back cramps recently. Got so bad that she had to go to hospital for a check-up. The doctor said the baby was fine (now about 6cm!), and couldn't really offer any explanation for the cramps. He offered to take Miyu in and monitor her, but she thought it's be better to stay home, and if it gets worse, then the hospital is only 10 minutes away.

So, we are currently the house of pain. I think I'm going to go now and break my alcohol abstinance with a glass of red wine. Should dull the pain.