Part of the Family in Tokyo

Posted on November 25, 2013 by lisafindley

As I mentioned before, I had a wonderful family experience with the Shirotas, and my luck with hosts in Japan didn’t end there. I stayed with a gregarious couple in Hirosaki and a gracious teacher in Yokosuka. But I spent the most time with a lovely family in Tokyo. Andrew, whose parents I stayed with in Shinrin-koen, put me in touch with his friends Eiko and Junko, Japanese sisters who both studied in Washington state, traveled around, and settled back down in Tokyo a few years apart. Eiko took me out to a delicious okonomiyaki dinner in Kawagoe with her family and gave me travel tips for the rest of my time in Japan. Junko put me up in her newly built house in the hip Umegaoka neighborhood in Tokyo. Both of them welcomed me with open arms into their family lives for the short time I was there.

So much fun with these lovely women–thanks for sharing your holiday with me!

My first day in the city, Junko said, “It’s Golden Week and today is Cinco de Mayo! Come celebrate with us.” It wasn’t actually May 5^th, but since that day was national Children’s Day, the Latin American community of Tokyo threw their Cinco de Mayo party a few days early. The festival took place right next to Harajuku, a central location perfect for a concert stage and food stalls. I joined Junko, her daughter, and their friends at the festival, where we ate chicken and tamales and listened to a Mexican pop star belt out power ballads and dance numbers.

At the Tokyo Cinco de Mayo 2013 Fiesta

Food ranging from tasty to intensely spicy

The kids, all between three and seven years old, were gorgeous and funny, playing on a skateboard, kicking around a soccer ball, and entreating two strangers to swing them around by their arms. It was such fun, and it was also the perfect place to see how cosmopolitan Tokyo is. I saw the first black people I’d seen the whole time I’d been in the country, and I heard English, Japanese, German, French, and several other languages I didn’t recognize.

It’s not a great photo, but this girl was so happy dancing up there on the stage

The Cinco de Mayo fest is used as a pan-Latin American celebration here, rather than solely a Mexican event. There are apparently a lot of Japanese people with connections to Latin America and Spain. Junko and her friends are some of these. Junko went to college in Washington and spent a semester in Mexico. She loved it so much that she moved there after graduation, and stayed seven years. She moved back to Tokyo to raise her daughter, Carmen, and she works for the American Embassy. One of her friends, Susanna, was born and raised in Venezuela by Japanese parents; she and her Venezuelan husband are raising their two adorable kids in Tokyo. Another friend, Japanese, married a Spanish man, and their son wanted to show me how he’s going to be a soccer star. Everyone there, including the kids, spoke at least Japanese and Spanish, and most of them spoke English as well. I was so impressed by their language skills and the community they’d built together.

Junko and Eiko were both amazing women, smart and loud and funny. They shared with me how it was sometimes difficult to live as loud, strong-willed women in Japan. But they both insist on living their lives as they please, not dimming their personalities to meet any societal expectations, and they seem to have a lot of fun in the meantime. I admire them immensely. Also, their kids were really cute.

With Eiko and family in Kawagoe

After the Cinco de Mayo fest, we all went back to Junko’s house, where Eiko and her kids were waiting for us. Eiko took over the kitchen and turned out several delicious dishes, all the kids played together, and the women graciously spoke English often so that I could be included in their conversation. They were a fun group of women. It was a great first night in Tokyo.

Carmen’s grabbing for the camera and her thumb’s in the way

A couple days later, Junko took Carmen and me to meet up with yet another international friend (Japanese, moving to Angola to teach Spanish for a year). We went to the park behind the Meiji Jingu shrine, a sprawling grassy area spilling down to a little pond. Junko was proud to show us the park, which her friend had never heard of, despite living in Tokyo for years. It was a secret hidden in one of the most popular tourist destinations in the city, Junko said. We had a picnic of sushi and frittata, and Carmen ran a kite around the park in adorable, energetic fashion.

Carmen decorated the kite herself

Doesn’t this just make you love kids, and kites, and life?

It took Carmen a day or two to warm up to me, but by my last day in town, she was hugging me and pulling on my arm to show me something she’d built or written. In the manner of seven-year-olds everywhere, she took great pride in showing me how to do the simple routines of her household, and we had a lot of laughs over putting stickers in funny places.

Carmen’s only seven, but she already knows to flash peace signs in every photo

Junko also fed me every day for the five days I was there, drove me to the kabuki theater and the boat that took me to Kaminarimon Gate, told me about the Lost in Translation karaoke room, and directed me to an amazing night view of Tokyo. She gave me a driving tour of the city one day, and talked with me about my dreams for the future. She gave me my own room to sleep in, a key to her home, and an invitation to come back any time. All this, and she’d had two days’ warning from Eiko before I showed up on her doorstep. I experienced Tokyo as a temporary member of Junko and Carmen’s family during busy Golden Week, and I wouldn’t have wanted to do it any other way. I can only strive to be as generous when I host in the future. Arigato!

Junko and me

My Personal Ryokan in Japan

Posted on November 5, 2013 by lisafindley

I bought the Fodor’s Japan e-book while I was in Vietnam, to get ready for the next country on my trip. The author of the guidebook spent many pages rhapsodizing about the ryokan, a traditional Japanese inn. Ryokan are a simpler form of accommodation than modern hotels, with no amenities like mini-bars, TVs in the rooms, or wifi. Instead, the emphasis is on a peaceful, introspective stay. The tatami (rice straw) floors, futon beds, sliding doors, private garden views, and expertly cooked food are consistent features from place to place, and you can expect to pay at least $100 per night. But I stayed at a top-notch ryokan in Shinrin-koen, and I didn’t pay a cent.

Painted screen doors in the traditional home I stayed in, in Shinrin-koen, Japan

Giantess in the ryokan

The secret is to know incredibly generous people, so I cannot flog this as a general travel tip. Too bad, because I want everyone to meet the Shirotas, who put me up and fed me for five days. The assistant rector of my parents’ church is from Shinrin-koen, a small town in the Saitama province, about forty minutes northwest of Tokyo. When he heard I was going to Japan, he put me in touch with his parents and assured me they’d be happy to host.

Blossoms in the garden

I quickly learned to wear slippers as soon as I walked in the door

Kuni and Kimi run a restaurant that’s attached to their house, so it was no surprise that everything I ate was delicious. They spoke very little English, and I spoke no Japanese, so we used Google Translate to bridge the gap. That is a very imperfect tool, I am here to tell you. We had some delightful misunderstandings, all taken in stride by the three of us, and everything smoothed over with the smiles permanently on our faces. I was grateful to be taken care of after months of looking out for number one, and touched by their generosity. They were pleased to host and chuckle with a young person who couldn’t ever seem to remember how to say “good night,” no matter how many times they pronounced it. They were the sweetest hosts, so my permanent smile wasn’t just a tool for cross-cultural communication. It was the real thing.

Kuni and Kumiko, my gracious and generous hosts

Kuni and Kimi, my gracious and generous hosts

And although their home isn’t really an inn (except for once a year, when they host several international travelers who come to town for a famous multi-day walk), it was the real thing, too.

The room had tatami mats and a low table:

Traditional table and tatami mats

And a futon rolled out on the floor:

Super comfortable. I had some of the best sleep of my trip here.

My room looked out on a small, lovely garden:

Peaceful work station (and yes, they had wifi, which was handy for blogging)

And I ate very, very well:

Handmade soba noodles

Beautiful presentation, every time

Delicious

I knew as soon as I met Kuni and Kimi that they were going to be wonderful hosts, and that I’d love staying at their home. Thanks to my guidebook, I also knew how lucky I was to have a ryokan experience without the expense.

Melbourne: A Home Away from Home

Posted on January 28, 2013 by lisafindley

My first two days in Melbourne: a fully stocked costume rental shop, where my friend and the sales guy refined her Gothic Lolita dress and another customer asked for tips on making his outfit more “Jesus-y”; a burger joint that names all its sandwiches after members of the fictional Huxtable family; a store with handwritten notecards describing each whimsical item for sale; a Scottish ceilidh in a community hall, all attendees clad in plaid. A place so fun and just a little too pleased with itself, I felt almost at home.

Brunch spot

Theresa and I know each other through mutual friends in Chicago, but she’d moved to New Zealand shortly after I moved to the city proper, so we never really got to hang out in the States. She moved to Melbourne a couple years ago, and is huge on the Couchsurfing scene there. She offered me an air mattress spot in her cozy home for the duration of my stay in town, which turned out to be a full week (generous!). We had a lot of fun hanging out.

It’s gratifying to see so many bookstores still about.

Theresa lives in the Fitzroy neighborhood of Melbourne, which felt so similar to Logan Square in Chicago that I had the strange sensation of comfortably navigating my way around the hipster hangouts of this city. I found bike shops, bespoke clothing shops, and expensive bars with good liquor. Of course, it is its own place, so I also saw things I’m not used to, like houses with ornate lacework gates, and women’s names painted on the facades; giant Russian nesting dolls decorating the lawn of the public housing block; and a storefront proclaiming the community service goals of a law firm.

I found the names on the house facades a little creepy. They reminded me of headstones. (Names here are Stella and Loretta, in case you can’t see.)

Melbourne itself is a pretty city, with pockets of green everywhere, a river wending its way through town, and elegant Victorian buildings lining the streets. It does have the disadvantage of being set up on hills in the downtown area, but I realized later that was just good practice for the mountains that make up all the walking areas of New Zealand.

Old school tram

The main part of Melbourne is set up on a grid, and the residents are proud of the tram system that trots throughout the city. There are all these signs reminding you not to steal a ride on the tram, but after the third or fourth time my tram card deducted more than it should have for a ride, I did as many residents do and just stopped paying. (While I was in town, the transit department came out with a fun, morbid little video that made the rounds on Facebook. Now that song is in your head. You’re welcome.)

St. Patrick’s Cathedral by night (no photoshop; all the lights were yellow)

I took the free tourist bus around town, to get a glimpse of the main attractions. I did get glimpses, but glimpses only, because most of the time the bus was too crowded to get a proper look, and we never stopped anywhere longer than it took to pick up more passengers, so overall I don’t recommend the tourist bus. It’s a concentrated downtown area and wouldn’t take too long to just walk around.

Temple of the Winds, Royal Botanic Gardens

I visited the Royal Botanic Gardens, which, like their counterpart in Sydney, were sprawling and well-tended. Paths squiggled all over, and soon I found myself in the middle of who knows where, resting by some roses wilting in the heat, then following some birds down to a lake and watching kids play. There were several signs indicating the various water-saving measures the caretakers have instituted–reducing use by 60% between 1995 and 2005, which is mighty impressive. I saw black swans and their nearly grown cygnets, packs of schoolchildren on field trips, and a grove of ferns actually labeled “Fern Gully.”

I saw the end of a concert at Federation Square, the recently revamped public square near the river. I glimpsed Rod Laver Arena, where the Australian Open tennis final is played. I ate a delicious dinner of trini curry chicken, roti bread, and garlic pumpkin from a Trinidad & Tobago stand at the Queen Victoria Market. I helped Theresa make purple sweet potatoes for a Thanksgiving feast high up in a Docklands building.

Old and new: St. Paul’s and Federation Square

Did I mention the ceilidh? Because learning Scottish folk dances with septuagenarians was a seriously fun way to spend a Saturday night. One lady even distributed homemade “Happiness Kits” to all the women in our group. I kept it til I met someone who needed a pick-me-up, and then passed it on.

Happiness Kit–cheesy but sweet

Oh yeah, and I saw penguins.

St. Kilda is a neighborhood on the harbor, and it rivals Fitzroy for funky goings-on and arty denizens. Its long esplanade is full of people jogging and roller blading (roller blading! in 2012!). I walked past fishermen on my way down the long pier, and at the end I read the sign about the blue penguins that nest here.

Hello baby penguin!

Blue penguins, or little penguins, are the smallest species of penguin, so the cute factor is upped considerably. A colony of them call the rocky breakwater at the end of the pier home, and for over 20 years they’ve been studied by scientists in this, their natural and wild habitat. It seems strange to call them wild, when they’re paddling past yachts at anchor to return to their nest every night, but they are wild. They aren’t bred or fed by humans; they just chose this spot because the harbor doesn’t have sharks or other predators, so it’s safer than some other places they could live.

Volunteers in safety vests roam the rocks, enforcing the rule that says no flash photography or regular flashlights are allowed, and shining red flashlights behind rocks so visitors can see the penguins (the red light doesn’t bother them like the white does). Unlike Philip Island, which has set up a paid park system to manage the many visitors, the structure here is loose, and that works in large part because the lights of the city confuse the penguins so they aren’t sure exactly when it’s dark, like they are in places more removed from humans, so they trickle in at various times, rather than all in one group. (The lack of predators also makes this possible, whereas the Philip Island penguins need to travel in a group for safety.)

Before sunset, I was peeking at a baby penguin, or trying to anyway–it had hidden itself pretty well–when a young girl came right up to me and said, “Do you want to see one better?” and pulled my arm before I could answer. She was right; I could see this one more easily. Thanks, little girl. The crowds got a little pushy, but mostly stayed polite and listened to the volunteers when told to give the penguins more room. At one point, a penguin stood at the top of the rocks and groomed itself for a good five minutes, then sauntered across the path to the other side of the rocks, and it was just like paparazzi photographing a movie star.

Paparazzi (penguin, lower right)

When I had shingles in Byron and it looked like I might not make it to Melbourne, Theresa tried to make me feel better by saying that it’s more a city to live in than to visit, and I see what she means. There aren’t too many ‘must-see’ sights, and it’s more a matter of hanging out and soaking up the atmosphere. But that’s often the best part, especially in a place that feels like somewhere I could have lived in another life.

Eat up

I went to a riotous party with Theresa, her boyfriend Sebastian, and friend Jez, and the next day we cooked up some ‘roo on the barbie and had a proper Sunday roast, Australian-style. We went to a pub quiz in St. Kilda and lost all the Australian-focused questions but won a couple random drawings that got us a round of beer for 20 cents each. What with the great weather and the excellent hospitality I experienced, Melbourne is easily the best city stop on my trip so far.