The next morning is a whirlwind of labrador and children, and we're off to harajuku and the Meiji Jingu Shrine.
Exhausted at the end of a long day, I have no coherent narrative but some random impressions, scattered here casually.
The garbage trucks on the narrow suburban streets and blind corners of Machida say "I am turning left soon!" in a friendly robotic voice of reasonable but effective volume.
The traffic is mixed between vehicles, pedestrians and many, many bicycles almost anywhere you go. Electric bikes are common, with two child seats and a basket not unheard of on a single bike. No one seems particularly angry to be slowed by alternate modes of transportation. I am still having a hard time getting used to traffic on the wrong side of the road. The sidewalks have ridged tiles for the blind and there is so much foot traffic, even in Machida, that the sidewalks themselves often have dividers and traffic arrows. It is somehow, despite the distinct difference in population between Portland and Tokyo, less stressful than getting around in the States. Maybe because the anger Americans channel into their commute is channeled elsewhere here. I am, of course, merely speculating.
The metro light-rail/subway system is a wonder. Convenient, well-planned, copious lines and stops, local, express and romance (a vaguely phallic chariot to Hakone for, you guessed it, romantic weekends) trains. I love it. My friends, like us, are carless. Unlike us, they have a much, much better mass transit system. We discover the local is much slower than the express. So noted.
It is Halloween in Tokyo today. There are so many Waldos. Where is Waldo? I found him. I found all of them.
Okonomiyaki is a pancake made of cabbage and octopus (plus some other bits) that we cook and eat ourselves at our own private table with a built-in grill. It is delicious. The restaurant is run by an art collective in an artistic district and I quite like the people who run it.
There is so much fashion in Tokyo. Portland seems like hickville by comparison. I might as well be chewing on a piece of grass as I walk around.
Meiji Jingu shrine is massive, quiet, green and I love it. A complete change from the busy streets 100 yards away. We watch no less than two wedding parties parade across the main square in complete silence in 15 minutes. The crowd is respectfully silent both times. I find the rituals of respect of respect at the shrine quite interesting. Bowing, clapping and an offering. I'm not sure why, but I like it.
There is a device I can't figure out by every urinal in the public bathroom at the shrine. I am a dull-witted american, but eventually I figure out it is a hook to hang hats, umbrellas or bags on for convenience. This is civilization.
There are men and women carrying large bows out of the shrine. We follow one all the way back to Machida. Men in nice suits carrying long bows taller than they are on the subway.
We eat dinner with two small children in an italian izakaiya style restaurant. I order spaghetti with squid ink and octopus. It's not amazingly delicious but I am satisfied at how strange the whole thing is. It is very Klingon to look at.
My Japanese is almost non-existant. I am lucky to be traveling with someone who is able to speak the language.
It's 7 o'clock by the time we get home, but it feels like it's 10. My interpreter has been unconscious on the couch next to me since 8.
I am struck by how quiet the city is as seen from the sleepy streets of Machida. It doesn't seem it can possibly be this quiet and calm on Halloween on a Saturday this close that many hundreds of thousands of people. And yet ...
Tomorrow, the island of Enoshima.
