Good Morning Earthquake

No matter how hard I tried to open my eyes and get out of bed, the mattress’ gravitational pull overpowered me time and again. As I repeatedly slipped in and out of consciousness, I began to question whether or not it was possible that the universe was actually conspiring against me. It was all too perfectly orchestrated to be the result of a random series of chaotic events; I suspected the existence of a metaphysical collusion between Mother Nature and Ole Lukøje. Outside my room, the constant rain gently tapped on the roof and windowpanes creating an energy field of white noise in surround sound with kryptonite-like effects. Any efforts made to resist the magnetic forces around me were swiftly lulled by the “Shhhhh! Shhhhh!” sounds of the slowly driven cars on the wet asphalt below. Tucked in tightly beneath a nimbostratus blanket, I succumbed to the languor induced by its penumbral half-light and softly drifted off to sl….

I dreamt about waking up and, when I did wake up, I thought I was still dreaming. Disoriented and drowsy, I blurred the lines between reality and fantasy and became increasingly more restless and anxious. I felt as though I had been hit by a melatonin cocktail: engulfed in sopor as the halothane vapors consumed me. As I tossed and turned wrestling this state of delirium, the room began to shake, as though it were fighting alongside me. I forced open my eyes just in time to witness the final extirpative tremor with which the house and I both suddenly released our dormant energy and thrust the Sandman’s spirit out. As everything around me stabilized, I felt the vigor return to my body through a shockwave that radiated from my core. With renewed strength and restored vitality, I finally broke free from my sedentary state and felt alive again.

Author’s note:

The above story is true. I somehow achieved synchronicity with the planet. Seeing as how it may never happen again, I had to write about it in an attempt to preserve the event as experienced through my altered state of mind. Yesterday morning, I felt like I was on the verge of getting a cold, so I decided to give in to my exhaustion and sleep it off as long as possible. However, when I am sick, I tend to oscillate violently between sleep and wakefulness to the point of mild paranoia. My intermittent streams of conscious and unconsciousness led me to wonder about outside forces controlling us through our perceptions, and I started to envision this tug of war between reason and imagination as personified through Science and Folklore (if it hasn't already been established, let me go ahead and say it now: yes, I am a dork).  When I finally did snap out of it, the room was swaying due to an earthquake near the Izu Islands, 249 miles SSW of Tokyo (the third one I have felt in 3 weeks). While previously not something I had ever experienced, earthquakes have now seemingly become a weekly occurrence, and thus, an integral part of my life in Japan…so, I might as well get used to them hanging around.

 

Tokyo! the ride

Okay, I know I am a little overdue in getting this blog off the ground, but better late than never, right? So, to make up for lost time, my inaugural post will take you for a quick spin around the city.

My first impression of Tokyo was "WTF?!? This city is MASSIVE." From the window of our hotel room on the 37th floor, the panoramic view of the large metropolis had no end in sight. As Aida so eloquently put it, "It's like NY on crack!" The next few weeks consisted of me exploring this giant amusement park they call a city.

At night, the city's neon lights beckon people to "step right up" and "try their luck". The carnival atmosphere can be felt everywhere from Ikebukuro's Sunshine City with it's sensory overload comprised of street performers, dance music blaring from lamppost loudspeakers, flashing lights announcing pachinko parlors and arcades (whose machines incessantly and simultaneously blast their competing game jingles in addition to the actual game's sound effects), electronics stores with salespeople shouting into microphones to announce the latest deals on digital cameras and tv sets to the perfectly orchestrated chaos of the world's busiest six street intersection pedestrian crossing in Shibuya. In Harajuku, I witnessed the varied and extreme fashion sense of the young (as well as one crazy old dude); walking down the narrow main street filled with shops spilling out a dizzying mix of flowery prints, bohemian dresses, and corsets, it was not uncommon to see several carnies dressed like Little Bo Peep (including the shepherd staff) surrounded by goths, punks, ravers/club kids, and what can only be described as anime barbie dolls. Like any good funfair, Tokyo offers a wide selection of food and drink, from very cheap (there are places where everything on the menu is 270 yen) to overpriced (3700 yen for a margherita pizza). It also has more than its fair share of public drunkenness (drinking on the street --and even on the subway-- is perfectly legal), which allows for spontaneous performances of a vaudevillian nature; I have seen drunk men spectacularly fall down the subway station stairs with death defying acrobatic flair on more than one occasion. The more you see, the more intoxicated you become, while the side show of billboards, advertisements and flashing signs line the sidewalks to create a distraction so the city can stealthily pick your pocket by luring you to SPEND! SPEND! SPEND! as you stagger down the unnamed streets like a child lost in a funhouse. You keel through brightly painted rooms swaying to and fro that toss you toward a spinning barrel which promises a way out, but never delivers; there appears to be no exit to this boundless vortex of excess.

But as the sun rises over the city like a giant ferris wheel making its rounds, its light reveals the stoic summit of Mount Fuji in the distance. In its shadow, Tokyo is dwarfed, and its limits are exposed. All of a sudden, you realize that what you were seeing was nothing but the distorted reflections produced by an elaborate hall of mirrors. Thus, the secret to surviving in Japan suddenly becomes clear: keep things in perspective. If you go on a roller coaster 8 times in a row after eating 5 hot dogs and 2 funnel cakes, you're probably gonna puke. The key to actually enjoying any thrill ride is moderation.

With this goal in mind, I invite you to join me on my personal journey to find that perfect balance, as I sample the many aspects of life in Japan. That said, please keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times and enjoy the ride!