So, besides our ryokan stay in part 1, there was a lot of other things to do in Shiga Prefecture. Other things we did in and around Lake Biwa were…
The Katsube Fire Festival
When Emperor Tsuchimikado fell sick sometime in the 13th century, a fortuneteller traced the cause of his sickness to a dragon living in a nearby marsh. The dragon was killed and burned, so every second Saturday of January, the Katsube Himatsuri (Fire Festival) is celebrated to commemorate that event. Oh right, and yeah, the emperor recovered after that happened.
So, to presumably represent said dragon, massive torches made of hay are constructed, hauled into the shrine grounds by men in traditional loincloths, and set aflame. As the torches burn, the men dance in circles and chant.
Small fireworks inside the torches go off just as the torches are spent, signifying their end. Then, their remains are hauled out through the shrine gates. Man, Japanese festivals are so cool.
Mount Hiei via the Biwako Valley Ropeway
Biwako Valley Ropeway is Japan’s fastest, and it takes you to the top of the local Mount Hiei. Activities included my first encounter with snow this unconscionably warm winter, and my first time sledding in over 15 years.
We also spent what must have been an hour trying to get the perfect picture on the edge of the infinity pool at Biwako Valley Terrace. Perfect for Instagram! Too bad I don’t have one.
Mount Hiei stands at a modest 2,782 feet (848.1m), which still makes for a great view above the clouds.
The Michigan Cruise
Nothing is more Japanese than an American paddle steamboat straight out of 1880s Mississippi River. You can take a 60, 80, or 120-minute cruise on the fantastic Michigan, four stories and also featuring a bar and live performances.
Keeping with the American theme, the performers even sang in ENGLISH, which is always a surprise. It was mostly Disney music, including Moana’s “How Far I’ll Go,” Mary Poppins’s “Let’s Go Fly a Kite,” and Jungle Book’s “I Wan’na Be Like You.”
Much like the Naruto cruise in Awaji, you can also feed the birds here, since they follow the boat the whole time and are pretty unafraid of humans. I had a perfect moment of symbiosis with one particular gull, who snatched my stick of Pretz right out of my hand. They flew a little too close for comfort a lot, even when we were just leaning on the railing looking out at the scenery.
Daiichi Nagisa Flower Park
Conveniently located a several-mile walk next to turbid rivers, Communist-block architectural monstrosities, rice paddies, and homes for getting to a train station in less than half an hour is only a dream, is Daiichi Nagisa Park, where you can catch over 12,000 early-blooming rapeseed flowers.
So now, thanks in large part to Stanzi and others encouraging me to travel more, I’ve made a not-insignificant dent into the prefectures of Japan!
To end on a more interesting note, Ogoto, the immediate area of Shiga that we stayed in, has a little bit of a seedy undertone and history to it. Our lovely 4-star hotel was right behind a huge pachinko parlor, and closer to it still was this:
A “soapland” in the process of being demolished. Soaplands are essentially brothels that just barely, barely skirt by in the eyes of Japanese law. We saw them dotted all over our travels across Shiga and around the lake. Oh well, perhaps on my next solo travel trip ;^)))
“Have you gone to Kyoto? Have you gone to Tokyo? What about the mother lake of Japan?” nobody ever has often asked me. Sticking with my program of travelling only to places that people probably never Google, this last weekend I took a trip to Lake Biwa, the largest lake in Japan, one of the oldest on Earth at 4 million years, and located in the Shiga Prefecture, which is next to Kyoto. It’s shaped like a dog, apparently.
First and absolutely foremost, this was a golden opportunity to stay in one of the nicest, most expensive hotels in my entire life, in a traditional Japanese hotel, or ryokan. My girlfriend Stanzi and I stayed at Kyo Oumi, located in Otsu, the capital of the prefecture, whose population numbers only 300,000. Very inaka!
A stay at a ryokan, especially a fancy one, entails the following amenities:
Your own yukata robe, so you can walk around the hotel and bathe in style.
Kaiseki (multi-course, ultra-traditional) meals, the local delicacies and specialties of the region. For Shiga, it is tai (red seabream); Omi beef, in the same class as Kobe beef; fried and smoked fugu (poisonous blowfish); and of course fresh sashimi, local umeshu (plum wine), and also apparently edible chrysanthemum flowers.
My personal favorite was absolutely the third day’s course, shabu shabu hot pot, where you swish thinly-sliced meat back and forth in boiling broth with your chopsticks, and it cooks almost instantly owing to its thinness. Traditional-traditional Japanese cuisine is such a different animal from regular Japanese cuisine, where you go from fried meat cutlets, curry, and ramen to steamed, boiled, pickled, or uncooked… somethings from the ocean. Absolutely delicious and memorable, but my mind wasn’t blown all across the dog-shaped lake as one might’ve expected.
Finally, the most amazing thing about a ryokan is the room itself.
It was absolutely massive, big enough that I could run laps around it (which I did upon excitement first coming into the room). It is all tatami, featuring the main room, a sitting room, windows with views of the lake, and an onsen-style (sitting) shower complete with a bathtub ACTUALLY big enough to lay down in!
Without a doubt, the pièce de résistance of the entire thing, really the main attraction aside from the kaiseki, is your own. Private. Onsen! That is, your own private hot spring, overlooking Lake Biwa. Absolutely magnificent.
One final note about ryokan hotels, is that there is no bedroom. You sleep on the floor, really wherever you’d like, on a futon. Each time we came back from our kaiseki dinner, the staff had already laid them out for us! Otherwise they are stored in closets, and you can lay them out yourself.
And that was all just the hotel! Lake Biwa had much more to offer than just our accommodation of course, which will follow in part 2… and, unlike Fukuoka, I swear I totally will write one.
Two wrestlers enter the sumo ring. Together they might weigh as much as a BMW Isetta. They drink water from ceremonial cups, served to them by the last opponent they defeated. They throw salt in the ring to spiritually cleanse it. The judges signal they can start– but not yet, the match starts only when both wrestlers put both their fists on the ground, and the timing of that is completely up to them. There’s a lot of psyching out, feinting, and intimidation. They crouch, ready to clash, but then stand up again to the cheers of the crowd. They slap their bellies, stomp on the ground to drive bad spirits away, and some throw even more huge handfuls of salt to really be theatrical. This pre-match metagame is sometimes more intense than the match itself, which often last just a few seconds. This is, of course, sumo, and last-last weekend I took a trip to Fukuoka to watch Sumo Kyushu Basho, or the Kyushu Grand Sumo Tournament, one of four annually around Japan.
Firstly, it was held in Fukuoka Kokusai (International) Center, and you know what’s cool about sumo? You sit on the floor! So Japanese!!!
There’s also chair seating, but those are in the very back rows. We instead opted for a “box seat,” where instead of buying individual seats, you have to buy the whole “box” of floor space and four cushions. The cost was a flat ￥46,400 ($427), regardless of whether one, two, three, or four people sit. These were the third-best seats, with the first being ringside, where you might actually get to experience a sumo wrestler falling on top of you, then the front row, then us.
Sumo tournaments run for about two weeks at a time, and every rikishi wrestles once each day. Their rank/division is determined by their win and loss record by the end of the tournament. Think of it as working the same as relegation in the English Premiere League, and the tournament being a squashed-together season. The current grand champion, or yokozuna, is actually a Mongolian rikishi named Hakuhō. This elusive rank has been given to less than 100 people since 1630!! Adding on to the fun, sumo tournaments start around 8 in the morning, with the low-tier divisions going first, up till 6pm when you get to see the grand champion himself!
There’s just so many neat things I really like about sumo. While I can’t claim to be a super-fan (nor can I with soccer, despite my many references to it thus far), I think that in sport there is beauty in simplicity. When there are so much fewer rules, then you must strive for absolute perfection in every little aspect. Two ways to lose– be pushed out of the ring, or touch the floor with anything but your feet. Despite this, there are over 82 recognized ways to win a sumo bout, which is included in the referee decision at the end as well as statistically tracked. There’s also, amazingly enough, a few foreign sumo wrestlers, the top division having a few dudes from Mongolia, and then Georgia and Bulgaria. Especially impressive because they are required to be fluent in Japanese, take a Japanese name, and live the entire sumo lifestyle.
We got to Kokusai Center around noon because of quite a night the night before, which’ll follow in part two. The stadium was nearly empty for the makushita division, the third-highest and the lowest featured at Kyuushu Basho. Even the wrestlers looked smaller. The gyōji (referees), whose outfits change from tier to tier, are barefoot and their robes a lot less elaborate. Compared to the top division, it seemed like the bouts lasted a little longer on average, as well as a LOT less pre-match feinting. It also seemed a lot less serious; there was one particular bout where the wrestlers were just staring each other down, and the gyōji yelled out something that sounded like “Wake up!” which even got some laughs from the crowd.
Yet another just absolutely badass thing about sumo– the gyōji at the topmost rank, called tate-gyōji, carry daggers in their belt to signify their willingness to commit suicide if they make the wrong decision. But as a perk, they DO get more elaborate robes, as well as wearing tabi socks and zōri straw sandals instead of barefoot. From what I’ve read, though, they don’t actually need to commit suicide if they make a wrong call, and no one has done it in modern history. At the current time there is only one referee/gyōji at this level, named Hideki Imaoka.
Anyways, the Center didn’t start getting packed until around the afternoon, near the end of the second-tier jūryō and the beginning of the top-tier division, makuuchi. One of the first things that happens is all 42 wrestlers of makuuchi file in, wearing banners made by their sponsors. They bow one by one as they are introduced, make a circle around the sumo ring, clap, pull up on their banners, and raise their hands to the air. Perhaps calling the attention of the gods to bring prosperity to their sponsors?
In the same vein, before every bout a few attendants will circle around the ring holding up the match sponsors’ banners. Another small TERRIBLY interesting point– the rikishi are referred to west vs. east, rather than left vs. right. Seeing as each makuuchi wrestler wrestles 15 times, if their wins outnumber their losses, they’ll be promoted within the division. And vice versa, they may be demoted, or perhaps even relegated (at least I assume they would be). Simple, simple!
There was so much that went on, compounded with my bad habit of writing blog posts WAY after the fact, that it’s difficult to me to lay out what happened chronologically, so a few highlights:
Finding that slapping is allowed, as well as open-palm thrusts. Some matches were basically just giant slap-fests, so intense that the sounds echoed across the stadium.
Seeing Yuta Tomokaze get injured falling out of the ring, and being taken away in an (admittedly, comically large) wheelchair. In fact, it was pretty strange. After he fell out of the ring, he didn’t get up. It took a few minutes of confused silence before anyone even came to help (and they didn’t look like paramedics), and even then Tomokaze mostly had to get up by himself. It looked like he either broke or dislocated his leg in the fall from the ring. Luckily, not career-ending, but he did have to withdraw from the tournament.
The final match of the day, which on this one was Hakuhō versus Hayato Daieisho, happened around 6pm. It was actually over in less than a few seconds: the refereed decision was Daieisho won by oshi-dashi, or by simply pushing his opponent out of the ring. And wow, the grand champion had lost! Now it is day 12 of the tournament, and Hakuhō is currently 11-1. So we were privileged enough to witness his only loss thus far. Wow! If this had been the last day, and Hakuhō had lost the match, there’s a tradition of the crowd straight-up picking up their and throwing their cushions at the ring. This also kick-ass practice was banned 11 years ago, but people still do it, Shinto Buddha bless them.
And lastly, the day’s action is concluded with yet another ceremony, this one called yumitori-shiki. A wrestler from the makushita division twirls a huge bamboo bow in the air and sweeps the ground with it to even further drive away bad spirits and cleanse the ring.
Coming away from the tournament, you (slash no one) may be wondering, “But Patrick, who is your favorite wrestler after all?” And of course, I’d have to respond “Why, it’s the world fourth-ranked Hideki Asanoyama!” because of all the wrestlers we ran into outside, he was nice enough to let me take a picture with him. Now, I’m a fan for life!
Himeji Castle was built in 1333. Since then, it has never been burned down, and it survived the bombings of World War II, even as the city of Himeji himself was leveled twice, leaving it as one of only twelve “original” castles left in Japan. Apparently, at one point over 5,000 existed. Fret not, the Allies did not destroy exactly 4,988 castles. A lot of them were lost in, you know, regular war between shogunates in Japan back when that was en vogue, and utterly bizarrely, many were just straight-up intentionally destroyed as part of the Meiji Restoration, that period of modernization following Japan’s opening itself to the world again. Then, though yours truly has visited the area and park several times, this past Saturday was the first time that I actually went inside the castle.
First off, the way up the castle is winding and rather steep– a way to force attackers to have to take as convoluted a route as possible, while at the whole time keeping them in clear/open sight from inside the castle. Those holes you see in different shapes are sama, their being different shapes for different ways to shoot at invaders: oblong for bows and round/triangular/square for different types of guns. I wonder if way back when, Tanaka-Samurai ever tried to fire a blunderbuss out of a arquebus hole or something and his friends made fun of him all day at work the next day. Just another day at the office!
I also forgot to mention that Himeji Castle is one of the best-preserved castles in Japan. The all-wood interior is still intact, and you have to take your shoes off before traversing up all six floors to the top. Which, by the way, you are given a plastic bag for to carry in until you reach the other end, a pretty common practice in shrines, temples, and other such historical places. Even inside, you can still see how invader-centric the construction and layout is. Stairs are very steep and narrow, and there’s even rooms with “high windows” designed for the express purpose of allowing gun smoke to escape should there ever be such a melee. I hit my head on a low ceiling going up one of the floors, so I guess that’s where I would’ve died had I been invading. Much better than my unfortunate friend Stanzi, who had foolishly stopped to take a picture around one of the sama holes. Well, I did too, but I was much more ninja-esque about it of course.
It’s finally cooling down from summer in Japan, so that may have contributed, but there was just amazingly refreshing, constant wind flow through the windows at the very top. It was definitely a lot more pleasant a temperature compared to outside, and I find it really fascinating to think about how things like summer climates affect architecture and building design, as well as what passive/electricity-less solutions existed before A/C was invented, such as the windcatcher towers of the Middle East. Re: the other point, older Japanese apartments and schools, for example, all doors directly communicate with large sliding, screen-less windows to create channels for airflow. I really couldn’t tell what exactly made the air so refreshing in the castle aside from us being so high up, but I’m sure there was more to it than just there coincidentally being a breeze that day.
The interior was, again, all-wood, and pretty barren. Obviously, none of the original furniture or whatever else that may have decorated the inside remains. Just a lot of big, flat, empty wooden rooms. I really do wonder what this castle would’ve looked like in its heyday– there’s just so much usable space. What were the entertainment rooms like? What would most of the castle rooms have in them/be used for anyways? The only relic that remained was an incredibly well-preserved flat screen TV.
One of the only rooms I saw for whose purpose was obvious was this armory.
Another, located in the “west bailey”, another section of the castle devoted to living quarters, contained the only tatami room to be seen, and this very creepy statue of Princess Sen, famous resident and wife of the original owner of the castle, Honda Tadatoki.
Besides the history, the castle is also amazing from an architectural standpoint. Above is the interior framework of the castle. And also, did you know, Japanese castles are built without nails? Instead, they’re completely made out of interlocking wooden beams. If I’m not mistaken, it was borne out of necessity because the quality of Japanese metal was pretty poor. I must admit, high quality woodwork is a lot more impressive than high quality metal… existing.
I also wondered what the actual surrounding area of the castle would’ve looked like in its time, and there was a nice miniature scale model to answer that question, and a map as well. Neat!
Anyways, at the very top floor of the castle had been a small shrine, which I totally forgot to take a picture of. It was apparently moved from somewhere else on site. For modern times, our tour ended with the prospect of making a wish to the protector of Himeji Castle, who’d kept it safe for nearly 700 years. In less modern times, who knows what awaited a plucky samurai who managed to make it past the moat, gunports, stairs, and ambush rooms and made it to the top?
With the last blog post, I had a startling realization, that had I not recontracted and this were my first and only year on JET, then all I would have to show for my experience is 20-some travel-guide-esque blog posts. The concept of just blogging about *me* and my feelings, etc. is so difficult to me that I only feel comfortable writing instructional-esque material, and even have personal posts in their own category. Although, I suppose, technically all my posts still fall under it.
Anyways, as my one-year anniversary of my arrival in Japan approaches, I thought I should dedicate a post to the city that so graciously houses me and to whose children I am “teaching” English, Akashi City. I know that in the past it’s been a little confusing as to where I actually live, but again, my school is in the town of Inami, despite it being called East Harima High School. I live, however, in Akashi.
Nearly every city in Japan, be it Tokyo or a countryside town where trains run only once an hour, has some random claim claim to fame or some other kind of specialty. For example, Akashi’s neighboring Awaji Island is known for its onions, as well as the place where the gods pulled Japan out of the sea. I have a friend who lives in a modest rural town of 40,000, and their claim to fame is being located in the geographical center of Japan, as well as having connections with the Australian Olympic ping-pong team (no idea why). Tokyo, besides being the capital of Japan and all that, is also apparently known for its bananas, because the special souvenir snack you can only buy there is always “Tokyo banana,” despite the fact the amount of Tokyo banana plantations may be close to zero.
As for Akashi, we have three! First and foremost is Akashi-Kaikyo Bridge, the longest suspension bridge in the world. Funnily enough, when I was visiting my girlfriend in 2017, she took me to this bridge as a day trip. It was a 2-hour drive from her place in Osaka, and at the time I thought it was, well, pretty neat. It passed out of my mind and I never imagined I’d be back one day.
Secondly, and in fact the thing I pull out the most when people ask where I live, is that Akashi is where the national time of Japan is set, at the Akashi Planetarium.
Thirdly, Akashi has its own special dish called Akashiyaki, which is a fried ball of batter, heavy on the eggs, with a piece of octopus in it, dipped in dashi, a light fish broth and the base for nearly all Japanese soups, from miso soup to ramen. It is, in fact, the precursor of the now much more famous takoyaki that was invented in Osaka.
With that out of the way, I want to dedicate this post to some of the negatives of living in Japan. If you’ve read my other posts, you’ll have to take everything with a grain of salt because I think I am pretty positively biased towards Japan. Nevertheless:
Asian in Japan
The experience of being a foreigner in Japan is probably talked about and blogged about more than the weather. Is being a foreigner in Japan indeed like being in the seventh circle of Hell, where instead of a lake of boiling fire it’s constant passive-aggression, or is it a land of infinite friendliness, hospitality, and adventures, of being invited to carry a sacred shrine at a festival, just for being a cool foreign dude who happened to walk by?
For me, it’s not really either. I’m stuck in between the two worlds– I’m not Japanese, but I’m not the *cool* or *interesting* kind of foreigner either. I can’t help but feel some kids were a little disappointed to hear they were getting an American JET, only to find out that it’s some Asian dude. In fact, when I sent a self-intro video to a fellow JET for his school’s intercultural project, his kids had apparently reacted with just “he’s American?” and not much else. The general image of Americans in the Japan is still the good ol’ all-American Joe Football, tall, blond-haired and blue-eyed. Either that, or to a lesser extent, African-Americans. Outside of major cities, my foreign friends who fit this bill still get a lot of attention, like getting free food at restaurants or excitedly asked for pictures of with drunk salarymen. I, on the other hand, am free to blend in and stand out as I please, which brings me to my next point.
Can Asians tell other Asians apart? Yes, they can, to a certain degree. However, most of the time, I blend in– restaurant staff always look to me as the group’s interpreter, despite the fact that I am often the one with the lowest Japanese ability among everyone. People don’t stare at me on the train. I see cashiers occasionally switch to English for my friends but speak in Japanese to me. After all, in a country that’s 98.1% ethnically Japanese, it’s pretty safe to assume that any light-skinned Asian person is most likely Japanese too. Other times, though, people can tell I’m not Japanese right off the bat, or they find out from the moment I open my mouth. The problem is, when people find out I’m not Japanese, they usually assume I’m Chinese.
Six months into the program, there were still teachers at the school who thought I was Chinese, despite having mentioned my Thai heritage in the many self-introductions I had to do when I first arrived. There’s nothing necessarily wrong with getting your ethnicity confused; it happens, but the problem is that if people in Japan are prejudiced, the most commonly disliked group is the Chinese. Perhaps it stems from the history between the two nations (fuel for the older generation) and the huge amount of tourists, who often are seen as having horrible manners (fuel for the current generation). The hate is so mainstream and fairly accepted that I once saw a TV show all about “look at what those Chinese are doing!” featuring things like people dumping trash in public or jaywalking and almost getting hit by cars. Pretty crazy that something like that could be allowed to air on TV at all. in the screencap below, an expose on Chinese manners, the captions say something like “They bought some dango, touched it, ate it before paying, and then said they didn’t want two anymore!”
Anyways, as a result of that, I am always hyper-aware and paranoid of breaking any social rules, be it as minor as standing on the wrong side of the train door or putting money into someone’s hands rather than on the table at stores. I never want someone to look at me and think to themselves, “Oh look, it’s one of those BAD kind of foreigners,” especially since I’ve already lost my chances on being the cool foreigner from the cosmic lottery. For this reason I try to hide the fact that I’m a foreigner as much as I can in most situations, for example never, ever defaulting to English first and responding “that’s okay, no problem” to questions when I have no idea what they said. Yeah, that’s my life, I am way too caught up in the opinions of strangers.
But to conclude, although I still will never feel like the “good” or exciting kind of foreigner, at the end of the day, I am happy to blend in. I’m also happy that even when I don’t, I can give Japanese people an opportunity to learn that Asian-Americans do exist, and yes, they can be pretty cool too!
The Land of the Rising Sun, the other dragon in the East, is sleepily stirring from a 10-day vacation, the likes of which are seldom seen. This was Golden Week, and this year’s saw the abdication of Emperor Emeritus Akihito, to be replaced by his son, Crown Prince/Emperor Naruhito!
Golden Week is a time where FOUR whole national holidays line up together in such a way that most people get the whole week off, making it one of the longest breaks and thus busiest travel seasons of the year. These holidays are Showa Day (April 29), Emperor Hirohito’s birthday; Constitution Day (May 3), when Japan got its new constitution under Allied occupation; Greenery Day (May 4), a Japanese Earth day; and Children’s Day (May 5).
I was in Tokyo for three days, the first of which included a stop by the Imperial Palace where the Emperor lives. This was on May 1st, which, because of Akihito’s abdication the day before, marked the beginning of a new era: from 平成 Heisei (1989 – 2019), “achieving peace,” to 令和 Reiwa, which means “beautiful harmony.” The name is chosen by a panel of experts that includes academics and company presidents, and this particular one was chosen from a line from a classical Japanese poem. Japan uses a special calendar based on Emperors’ reigns, so a new era begins when a new one takes the throne, and ends upon their leaving it (usually from passing away). This has been a tradition for 1400years. Just to give a sense of how much history these eras can cover, the last emperor before Akihito was Hirohito, who was Emperor during World War II. Go only two more eras back, and you’re already at the time of the Meiji Restoration, when Japan ended its policy of isolation and opened itself up to the world in 1853. Damn!
Besides the hubbub, although I was able to get closer to the palace than I was last time, as a mere peasant I was sadly unable to catch a glimpse of the Emperor or anything like that. Anyways, onward to my next two days, at…
I’m a huge fan of Disneyland. I’d go once a month, and even twice a month during my considerably freer college days. It is only natural that I should visit Tokyo Disneyland, and though this wasn’t my first time, it is my first time writing about it!
Tokyo Disneyland was built in 1983, apparently the first to be built outside the US. If you asked me to sum up the biggest difference, well, I’d say that it’s Disneyland, except in Japanese. The rides/attractions and layout of the park are near exactly the same to its counterpart in Anaheim. Some, like Pirates of the Caribbean, are even still in English! Now that’s some culture shock. All the animatronics, set-pieces, scenery, and so on are the same, except perhaps just a tiny bit differently laid out in terms of order. Some, of course (such as Star Tours), are in the Japanese language, but the rides in and of themselves are exactly the same. There are a few exclusive attractions, like Stitch Encounter and Monsters Inc. Ride & Go Seek, but you will also recognize many others such as Splash Mountain, Space Mountain, Western River Railroad (Big Thunder Mountain Railroad), and the various Fantasyland rides we all know and love. The lands are also roughly the same, featuring World Bazaar (similar in appearance to Main Street, USA, complete with Penny Arcade), Adventureland, Westernland (i.e. Frontierland), Critter Country, Toontown, and Tomorrowland.
Nevertheless, there is still a distinctly Japanese twinge to the park, in the food and souvenirs they offer– much more focus on snacks, aesthetic packaging to make said snacks candidates for nice omiyage, handkerchiefs, a lot of Duffy products, soup bowls, soy sauce dishes, chopsticks, and so on and so on. Either way, I must admit that at the end of the day I felt more like I was in Disneyland in Japan, rather than being in a Japanese Disneyland. Now, if you want a totally unique experience, head on over to its aquatic neighbor.
Tokyo Disney Sea
Much as how California Adventure is the slightly more thrilling counterpart of Disneyland, so too is Tokyo Disney Sea. Indiana Jones is housed here instead of in Tokyo Disneyland, but aside from that, it doesn’t share a single ride in common with Anaheim Disneyland.
Being Disney “Sea,” the park is very decidedly water-themed, where each land represents a different region of the world: American Waterfront, recalling early 1900s San Francisco; Port Discovery, its steampunk aesthetic based on Twenty Thousand LeaguesUnder the Sea; Lost River Delta, exactly where you’d expect Indiana Jones to be, 1930s Central America; Arabian Coast; Mediterranean Harbor, complete with gondolas; Mysterious Island, another Jules Verne-themed land; and finally, Mermaid Cove where Ariel lives.
At the center of the park is the volcanic Mount Prometheus, and the Journey to the Center of the Earth ride takes you into the depths of it. Think Matterhorn Bobsleds except subterranean and with magma instead of snow, and with weird Half Life-ish boss creatures rather than the Abominable Snowman. The ride itself is kind of like Radiator Springs Racers in California Adventure, in that the first part is a slow ride taking you through different scenery and dioramas, and the final part is when you “break out”– it speeds up, there’s drops and bumps, and before you know it you’re back to civilization. I didn’t take a video because it was my first time riding it, but here’s a POV ride-through on YouTube.
It’s worth mentioning that these pair of parks are the only ones not actually owned by Disney– instead, they’re owned by the Oriental Land Company, which licenses the Disney brand from them. This means that you get to see creative choices that would otherwise probably not fly at Disney parks, namely focusing on things as obscure as Jules Vernes’s works, two of which aren’t even Disney movies: The Mysterious Island and Journey to the Center of the Earth.
Since I went during Golden Week, both parks are incredibly crowded. We had to wait three hours for each ride, so we were only able to do three rides a day or so. I would not recommend going during this time, absolutely not. But any other time at all, absolutely yes! If you love Disney, or at the very least, enjoy fun and aren’t a contrarian, you’ll enjoy these parks. And finally, since there was nowhere else to put it, there is this amazing, utterly bizarre animatronic alien that “makes” pizzas over at Tokyo Disneyland, at Pan Galactic Pizza Port:
I have been in Japan for over half a year now, completely shattering my previous record of two months. I started this blog so that I could have something to look back on, a diary of sorts. The problem is, this hasn’t really been a diary at all. Funnily enough, I feel much more comfortable writing instruction manuals/guides rather than writing about myself, even privately! To look back 10 years from now to an explanation of Osaka’s Sun Tower by my 25-year-old self won’t feel particularly self-reflective or nostalgic. So buckle down, tab out, and unsubscribe, here comes an incredibly long, personal post.
Life in Hollywood: A Retrospective
The same as my degree, the only tangible benefit about having worked in Hollywood is just being able to tell people I did. In reality, for the former, my grades were mediocre, and for the latter, I was pretty much the bottom of the totem pole. I have been interested in filmmaking ever since my family got an audio-less digital camera when I was in the 7th grade. To date, one of my first, and admittedly best, attempts at it was this short lightsaber duel I made in high school.
Before that, though, I had been obsessed with a show called Get Smart, a sitcom that ran from 1965 to 1970. It was a parody of James Bond and the spy genre in general, created by none other than Mel Brooks himself. It was hugely influential, to watch a show that, despite being nearly half a century old, could still surprise me and make me actually laugh. It taught me that high quality doesn’t age.
A second big influence was Akira Kurosawa’s Seven Samurai, in which a poor village hires seven samurai to fend off an upcoming bandit attack. It taught me that you don’t need to have an Inception-esque complicated plot in order to make a good story. I set about on a project that consumed nearly two years of my life– creating my own action-comedy spy series, called Special Agent Jones. I wrote several scripts, created an intro sequence with music, had rehearsals, auditions, even fight choreography.
Long story short, despite my ambitions, we produced the first part of the first episode and, being a typical high school production, it fell far, far short of my expectations. We didn’t have a boom microphone, we used a handheld camcorder, and though spies and their enemies are supposed to wear suits, the majority of the “cast” didn’t own any, so they looked even more like high-schoolers. It was pretty discouraging, and of course there wasn’t anyone to blame but myself– I could’ve tried harder, at the very least, like making my own equipment and basically applying just a little bit more ingenuity.
Fast forwarding through the pity party, throughout college, though I also had opportunities to make more short films, I preferred to stay in the background in minor roles as I was afraid to truly step up to do anything creative. I occasionally still tried to write, but by this point I didn’t really have any good ideas anymore. I never finished a single script, and any plot outlines I had always ended in some twist. Although this can be used to great effect, a twist ending does NOT excuse the rest of the story from having to be written well, or meaningful. Also being at UCLA, home to one of the best film schools in the nation, I was even more intimidated seeing how talented some people were. What it boiled down to, was that growing up I was a big fish in a small pond. Now, at UCLA, I was a fish in an ocean. I couldn’t bear to find out that I wasn’t actually a big fish after all, that everyone who told me I was so promising growing up, was mistaken. Diagnose-happy people may call it Impostor Syndrome, but I never was worried about being exposed as a fraud, or something. I simply didn’t think I was talented.
I applied the same mentality to my career track, where I thought the business side of the entertainment industry would suit me better. Creativity may not be my strong suit, I thought, but I still want to be involved in making movies in some capacity. I worked as an assistant at a talent agency, and then at a film production company. I learned a lot about how things run, but I also learned that maybe this life wasn’t really for me. Long hours, low pay, and bad people abound. Assistants would swap stories on how their bosses look down on them in secret Facebook groups, and then at the very same time make threads like “intern fuck-up stories” where they would laugh at how stupid and incompetent interns are. Everyone sticks together as equals, but once they advance, they immediately turn around to look down on anyone below them. It definitely left a sour taste in my mouth, and it made me want out. That ennui is what eventually led me to the JET Program.