Japan - Day 4, Part 1: Tsukiji Market

Over our whole Japan trip we took something like 1,200 pictures.  A lot of those were the sights at Tsukiji Fish Market.  It's a very famous market - in and out of Japan. Wikipedia deems it, "the biggest wholesale fish and seafood market in the world".  I have no personal ties or family experiences there, so this was purely a tourist excursion for us.

We heard to get there in time for the tuna auction you would have to wait in line very early in the morning.  We left the hotel sometime between 4am-5am and watched the sun rise on our taxi-ride across the city to the market.

Even with our early start, the market was already winding down in activity.  We had missed the tuna auction passes that day already.  We tried to walk into the main area to see any leftover activity, but were turned away by a security guard.  Bummer.

So we contented ourselves in waiting in the longest restaurant line (a tip from several sources) for a FRESH sushi breakfast.  On my way into the market I kept wishing to stop and take the sights in but we were in rush.  Now that we missed the auction & were standing forever in line, I left Blake to hold our spot and started walking through the outside market.

Fish decorations were everywhere.

Edamame, sold on the plant, not in a bag.

Desserts made from sweet beans or sweet potatoes.

These fish were waiting behind some of the sushi restaurants, no doubt purchased that morning.

The place had Styrofoam coolers of fish stacked EVERYWHERE.

The vegetables on sale here were also impressive.

You know that spicy green paste on your sushi plates? It comes from wasabi roots.

I wanted to taste everything! Beautiful & large grapes & peaches, small mellons, when's breakfast?

These diesel powered (stinky exhaust) carts zipped all over the place.  There are 4 in this picture.  And that was normal considering the space.  There were more carts than people in many places.

Everything you need to make sushi was all within a few yards. 

Even the egg omelets for sushi can be found freshly made.

Ever see the plastic menu displays in Japanese restaurant windows?  Yup, you can get those here, too.

...and serve your delicious food on.

Fish designs & kanji.

After 20 minutes (or longer?) in line we decided we could settle for 2nd or 3rd best if it meant we'd be able to eat something sooner.  We found another shop that still had a line (didn't choose the first empty seat we saw) but had only a few people in front of us.

While in line we made small talk with the patrons in front of us.  They told us that if we walk through the fish truck parking area we could go in the back side and still see large fish being transported & cut.  Blake was off in a heartbeat toward the market.  I was fearful of trespassing but guiltily went along.  Once we were inside we realized there were a lot of people inside anyway and no one was being sent away.  We just tried to not get in the way of any business.

Inside was another fascinating treasure trove.

Blake got to see some big fish.

I loved how the knives all looked like swords (maybe they were?).  Tradition.

I would make a face like this, too, if I was running a frozen giant fish through a an electric saw wish flesh chunks flying out.  He was focused.

 I can't even tell you what all of these things are, but my dad was drooling at these pictures...

Vendor, buyer, custom cut with a serious blade.

We didn't get to see the giant of giant tuna's, but still were happy we got to see inside the market and get our fill of pictures.

We crossed the busy truck area again (dodging trucks & carts apologetically) and came back to the restaurant.  I think the original people we talked to were at the front of the line and got seated just as we came back.

In front of Ichiba Sushi.  Since we can't read kanji, when we received the english business card once inside we found it a coincidence that my maiden name is Chiba.  The kanji is different (which means it's a completely different word), but still fun for pronuciation.

The restaurant (like all the others) was a skinny sushi bar only.  Our legs hit the back of the counter, and our backs could literally lean on the wall behind us.   And in this tight space, one waiter was running back and forth taking order, and serving miso soup.

 And now, our breakfast!  

These pictures don't even give these pieces justice.  Each was beautiful and, more importantly, they the quality was unreal!  It was like eating something new entirely.  Everything was amazingly fresh and soft.  The flavors were incredible.  Every single piece was AMAZING.  Pieces of art.  No favorites.  We can safely say that we will never, for the rest of our lives, have any sushi that can even be half as good as we enjoyed that day.

My plate was on glass.

Blake's was on a bamboo leaf.

The tuna on the left was seared with a blow torch in front of us.  It was still pink & perfect on the inside.  Luckily we both had one in our variety plates.

Seriously, what can compare?!

Best breakfast ever!

On our way out there were more interesting things to see...

We loved seeing these Japanese fishing net floats when we were in Hawaii.  I even found one on our reef once.

Fancy mushrooms.

More mushrooms.

I think this was fish powder used like bouillon for soup bases. I've only seen it pre-packaged so was excited to see it in such varieties and in bulk quantities.

Seasoned fishes.  If we weren't so full from breakfast I may have bought some of these.

Again, I always have some of these in my cupboard, but I've only seen fish flakes pre-packaged.  I just wish I could read what kinds of fish these were.

More fish decorations - even on the beware-of-step painting. 

As we walked to the train station I watched this worker wheel containers of fish across the street to a parked car.  A man in the car came out, they looked at the fish together, made an exchange, and loaded the car.  The worker pulled his empty cart back to the main center.

It was then I realized that my father's parents, in their years of poverty, were fish sellers.  My dad ate a lot of fish growing up, not because he liked it.  He even disliked it.  Even my grandmother ("Baachan"), in an age when women did not work, walked door to door through the town every day selling fish.  My dad tells me that she would walk door to door in any weather, hot or snow.  After my dad's younger brother was born, my dad with other relatives would watch the baby and feed him sugar water in a bottle until she came back.  Eventually their door-to-door business became more successful.  They started a shop.  Then a catering business.  Eventually they opened what is now the family business:  a "kaikan" (dining & meeting facility) that hosts wedding and funeral parties for large dinners and even has a few hotel rooms.  But the beginnings of their business, and the reality of most of my father's childhood, was being poor fish sellers.  Even though I came to Tsukiji Fish Market for a purely tourist reason, I left feeling a little bit more connected with my family's past.

Japan - Day 3: Tokyo

Day 3 was our first day on our own.  And, since Tokyo is tourist friendly, we managed to get around.  We started our day with a list of several things we wanted to see and a lunch appointment to look forward to.

Perfect stranger, but I loved seeing traditional ukatas mixed in among the modern attire.

The Ueno station is was full of panda decorations, including this giant exhibit, in honor of the visiting Panda from China to the zoo near the station.  Even all the food there was panda themed - breads, crackers, cakes, chocolates, lunch boxes, you -name-it in Panda.

 For lunch we met up with my friend Roy (Ryo), who I originally met while he was on assignment in my office from the Tokyo PwC office.  We met him at the PwC office. 

We arrived a few minutes early so I we sat in the lobby watching the business class coming and going.  I watched three men walk from the elevators to the lobby, stand to exchange goodbyes and held a long bow.  Then one of the men walked to the revolving exit doors.  The remaining two employees (I assume they were hosting) stood very straight watching the exiting man.  Every time the exiting man looked back, the two bowed in unison.  Finally, when the exiting man was out of sight, they resumed their casual stance and walked back to the elevator chatting.  It was small cultural differences like this that entranced me this whole trip!

We didn't wait long before Roy and his colleague Ann joined us and we set off for lunch.  Roy took us to a fancy, yet, traditional restaurant at the top of a nearby building.  We had to take off our shoes and got to sit at a lowered table with space underneath for our feet.

Janet, Ann & Roy

The food was AMAZING, of course.  And it was great catching up with Roy.  We also got to talk a lot about my observations of the culture in Japan versus the US.  Ann and Roy told us about experiencing the recent earthquake that knocked out Tokyo's power and mass transit for a while.  I was impressed how orderly and disaster prepared the population was as a whole.  The US has a lot to learn.  We also talked about the excitement of navigating through train stations and received tips on what to expect on the next section of our trip to visit my family up north.  Thanks, Roy, for a wonderful lunch!

When we got back to the PwC office, Roy took me on a quiet tour of the IAS floor (my tax division).  Blake and I were dressed in shorts, camera hanging around our neck and backpack laden, yet the partner invited us to his office, closed the door and had us sit down for a few minutes to welcome us and send his greetings back to the partners in my office.  The cubes in the Tokyo IAS office were much smaller than the office in San Jose, but these were the negotiated bigger spaces for the IAS team.  Roy took us to another tax floor to show us what normal office cubes look like.  In this other floor there was barely walking space (for a skinny person, definitely not a wheelchair) between cubes.  I'm pretty sure you can't stand up at the same time as the person behind you without bumping chairs.  (Yet in every space was a hard hat and emergency kit in case of disaster - prepared!)  It makes sense that in a city where homes and streets are so tight that cubicles would be, too.  It's a small island with a large population.  I'm glad for the space I have in California. ;)

 After lunch we continued our self-guided tour of the city we saw a street fair just outside the station gate at one stop so we ventured out.  There was a large stage and there were booths, mostly food, but retail, too.

Healthy fair food - these were all over the city.  We often saw little kids walking around with a picked cucumber on a stick.  That's so much healthier than American carnival food on a stick (corn dog, cotton candy, lollipops...).

One thing that the Enomoto family from the day before told us we HAD to see in Tokyo was the newly opened Sky Tree.  So we went.  The initial crowds weren't bad, but the line was so long I think we waited over two hours before we really got "in".  The building was full of artwork and employees ushering people to move appropriately in line.  The elevator was state of the art.  It was beautiful to be in, but the real impressive part was the ride.  The screen above the doors showed our ascent from the 4th floor to "Floor 340" at 340m in the sky (1,115.5 feet) by showing the altitude ticking up along with the speed we were traveling.

And this was the view from the top.  Mind you, it might look like a familiar sight from an airplane but this was from a building.  Yikes!

Blake's feet are on the right.  He video recorded walking over the glass floor that looks straight down.  I started to walk across and didn't get further than putting my toes on the glass.  Too scary for me!

Looking up from the 4th or 5th floor to the observation deck that scared me.

 After the SkyTree we had smaller sights to see.

Harajuku, apparently famous for crazy fashion.  In reality, I saw more tourists than anything else.

The Omotesando, just a few streets over from Harajuku but several $$$ over for normal luxury shopping.

 By this time we were sight-seeing-ed out and realized we hadn't eaten dinner.  (That's one thing kids are good for - their internal clocks that demand a schedule.)  We also realized we'd been in Japan for a few days and had not eaten any sushi.  We found a sushi shop at the bottom of a department store.

The sushi at this unassuming sushi place tated better than anything we had eaten in the US (and not just because we were hungry).

Aren't these beautiful?!

This miso soup was delicious - we didn't realize until we got to the bottom of the bowl that it was because of the clams inside.  It was probably the best miso soup I've ever had.

 Next stop:  Shibuya Crossing.  My guide book said that it's estimated that 100,000 people pass through the intersection every hour.

Watch Blake's take on the spectacle:

Right at the Shibuya station are the famous Hachiko statues.  Hachiko is the true story of a faithful dog who waited at this station for his owner day after day, even for years after the owner died.  This famous story has been turned into books and movies, even in the US.  I remember hearing the story when I was young as well.

And we didn't get lost on the way back to the hotel that night.  Successful day!

Japan - Day 2, Part 2: Yokohama

When I was just a few months old, my parents moved from California to Japan.  We lived in Yokohama.  We lived in a normal Japanese neighborhood - not one of the neighborhoods where foreigners live together.  It was in Yokohama that as a toddler I learned to walk and talk.  While my dad was at work during the day, my mom adapted to the Japanese lifestyle - tatami floors, futon beds, washing machines & clothes lines, tiny refrigerator that made daily trips to the local market a necessity, and she became friends with the local merchants and neighbors.

I actually don't remember any of this.  But we have old pictures that I've looked back at all my life trying to remember something about living in Japan, and I've heard stories my whole life about what life was like.  My best friend, so my mother told me, was Misako Enomoto.  We were the same age.  Our mothers took us to play with each other almost every day.  Apparently, I was too young to say "Misako" so I called her "Sha-sha".  That is actually one fact I remember on my own - what my friend's name was.   Our mothers were dear friends, too.

When I knew this Japan trip was final, my mom & I went through old pictures and old Christmas cards trying to find names & addresses of our old neighbors and our old address.  I sent letters to the few we could find, and I got one response - luckily from the Enomoto family!  We arranged to meet up on Day 2 of our trip.

Unfortunately we were very late after touring my dad's old garden that morning, but finally made it to Yokohama in the afternoon.  Misako and her younger sister Akiko met us at the train station.  We were so excited to finally meet!

(Disclaimer for all the following photos: judging by my hair, I had not seen a mirror all day long. Yikes. I post these to remember what everyone and everything else looked like.) 

Misako, Janet & Akiko walking from the train station to the Enomoto's home.

Misako can speak basic English and Akiko had lived in Canada and travelled to the US often so she spoke excellent English.  Both Misako & Akiko took the day off of work to meet us, and for Akiko to translate for everyone.  Early in our conversation we both discovered neither of us remembered being 2-years old nor remembered playing with each other, but both of our mothers told us many stories and showed us many pictures of each other.  We also discovered that Misako's daughter and my son are the same age.

The Enomoto family lives in the same place they did 30 years ago, now remodeled.  When we arrived at their home, their parents warmly welcomed us as old friends.  It was immediately evident what a deep friendship their mother and mine had.  I was so glad Akiko was there to translate for us.  But even so, it felt like there was so much more that could have been said.

After showing everyone pictures of my family, we started talking about how I have pictures of being in their home during Hinamatsuri with their display of an imperial court.  Their dad quietly left the room and came back with duplicates of the same pictures .

2-yr-old versions of Misako and me (I'm on the left in both pictures of the two of us)

My mom on the left looks slightly pregnant so my guess is that this is from 1984.

 He quietly left the room again, and came back with some of the dolls.  Such a sweet gesture!

This is the same ornamental fan that I am holding in the old pictures.

Mrs. Enomoto then offered to take us on a tour of the neighborhood so we all headed out.

This is the walking path, not accessible to cars, that my mom mentioned we walked on every day. 

I kept hoping that instinct would take over and I'd know where to turn or that I'd recognize something.  No such luck.  But Mrs. Enomoto was wonderful at pointing out everything that still looked the same.  "Your mother will recognize this," she kept saying.  So we kept taking pictures (thank you, Blake!).

This co-op replaced the market where my mother would come everyday. 

This was the site of my family's old apartment.  The units have been completely rebuilt, but Mrs. Enomoto still walked me through the gate and around the corner to show me how we used to walk into our apartment. 

This is one of the market ladies.  My mom always said how they would talk-talk-talk so fast with huge smiles, say I was so cute and give me candy.  Mrs. Enomoto knocked on the door. This lady came out all smiles.  In my limited Japanese language skills I hear the explanation, "....Gaijin (non-Japanese)...apartment.... Karen (my mom's name)...America...Janet..."  The market lady responsed with surprise and excitement.  She said a bunch of things to me very fast which I did not understand, to which I politely smile back.  She then runs into the house and comes back with a gift box of crackers for my mother, told me they were for her, and told us to all take care.

At this door, much of the same introduction took place.  This couple used to have a korokke (croquette) shop but now the man solely operates a cigarette window.  My mom told me she used to sit and watch him make these over and over in all varieties, trying to memorize what to do.  (We ate these occasionally throughout my childhood in the US and still.)  Once he and I figured out who each other were he opened his door to show us the old shop.  It's still there behind that grey gate - counter and tables all unused for years.  Still, I was happy to see a piece of the past.

This was another neighborhood vendor that we were introduced to with the same explanation.  This neighbor ran into her house and brought back letters and pictures of her son who also lives in the San Francisco area.  Blake and I both wish we could understand everything that everyone was telling us!

A great sense of community was certainly alive & well here!

Misako and Janet, 28 years later

I was actually sad to leave this family.  We had only spent a couple hours together due to my late arrival and the impending dinner-hour and our need to find our hotel in Tokyo.  I wanted to stay longer with this family that were strangers on the one hand, but were so warm and natural on the other hand.  I really hope to stay in contact with all of them.  28 years between friends is too long!

I was also impressed by the fond memories everyone had of my mother.  What a tribute to her! What a great example to me of starting over in a new country, raising a young family, adopting new habits, and embracing where you are and the people you are with.



Day 2, Part 3: 
We made it back to Tokyo and started making our way to our hotel, but we got lost.  Taxi drivers didn't recognize the name or address of the hotel, and we just tried to walk from the station with the limited maps we had on hand.  (We later figured out how to explain the whereabouts to taxi drivers, but this was a frustrating night.)  Lost in the middle of the city a young woman saw our confusion and in English offered to help.  Turns out she was headed in the same general direction and said she would walk us most of the way.  Thank you, kind stranger!  During our walk we explained the purpose of our vacation - a celebration but also a reconnection to my roots.  We found out she was full Japanese but actually raised in Brazil, 3rd generation.  She had come to live in Japan because she knew that ethnically she was Japanese but didn't really know what that meant - and wanted to experience it for herself.  She had felt what I was feeling and was happy to help us out.  During our walk she told us she was meeting her friend at "Love".  It finally made sense when we saw the statue.  She was also proud that she could help us find Love in Tokyo.  ;)  She then literally walked us to a point where we recognized that we were only a few blocks from our hotel, she met up with a friend and we separated.  We made it to the hotel.