Day 13: Kodokan, Sophia University

It's not like I ran out of things to do in Tokyo, but I did start to slow down.

One of the things on my list was to watch sumo or judo sparring. So, on Wednesday, Maria and I went to Kodokan. Kodokan is a judo academy founded by Kano Jigoro, who also founded judo. Sadly, there was no judo going on while we were there, so here's a shot of me in the empty training facility.

There was a museum, which we toured. Sadly, they wouldn't let us take any pictures. So here's a picture of Brooklyn in her carrier.

When we ate out in Japan, I tried really hard to only eat Japanese food, to try new things, and to not have things I could eat in the States. I cheated twice with my parents-once at McDonald's and once at Chinese Food. I had a burger and fries with Maria at a place near Kodokan. It reminded me of an episode of Arrested Development. For those of you unfamiliar with the show, I will just explain that the main character, Michael, finds himself in the British district of LA (called "Wee Britain"). He goes out with a woman to the only American-themed restaurant in the British district. It is called "Fat Americans."

The burger place wasn't that bad. They played Elvis songs, and there were American license plates on the walls. It's hard to tell from the picture, but I am pointing to a Texas license plate.

By this time, I was really beginning to miss it. And when I say it, I mean Texas. I was really beginning to miss Texas. I hope that makes everybody happy.

I had one more thing left to do on my list: visit a Japanese university. Fortunately, Sophia University was just around the corner from Shane's apartment.

Over the course of a month, I had made a semi-serious study of various university bookstores, in terms of their stock. I wish I had a sophisticated rating system, but here was the basic breakdown:

Texas Tech: Two stories. Decent apparel section. Lots of school supplies. Stocked on textbooks. Not a good selection of gift items. Poor selection of non-text books, which is extremely sad since the bookstore is owned by Barnes & Noble. This seems to indicate that, while it is important to Tech that its students get the books they need for classes, the school is more concerned that students attend football games than do extracurricular reading. Of course, it is Texas.

The University of Texas: I never actually saw the book part of UT's co-op. I'm sure it's there, so I will not disparage the quality of academia at UT by talking about how much easier it is to find tacky football memorabilia than it is to find the books. The apparel part is pretty amazing. Two whole floors. Again, it's Texas.

Brigham Young University: Before visiting UT, I thought BYU's Bookstore was the best. I still think it's pretty good. I now realize, however, that it is catering to a very different crowd. At UT, a big part of the bookstore's business comes from selling things people can wear to football games, slap on their car windows, wear around their necks, etc. Not only is it what their students are buying, but it is what their alumni are buying, as evidenced by the number of shirts Layne owns from UT, as well as other bizarre UT souvenirs like golf club covers. BYU also caters to their alumni, but BYU alumni, while they do buy apparel, are far more interested in things like fudge and art by Greg Olsen. So that's what you can buy at the BYU Bookstore. However, they sell a lot of other cool things that do not have a lot to do with attending BYU. For example, Melanee once sent me a rubber nose while I was on my mission, which she purchased at the BYU Bookstore.

Brigham Young University-Idaho: It felt like a more cramped version of the BYU Bookstore. The apparel section was very small, which, I guess, makes sense when you consider BYUI has no NCAA sports teams. I did, however, find a copy of The Phone Call on DVD that I was pretty excited about.

University of California, San Diego: I am actually a big fan of this bookstore, where I purchased an all-natural UCSD t-shirt (it seemed appropriate). It was at least three stories high, and had an amazing collection of all kinds of books. I purchased on one nonviolent parenting in their medical section, of all places.

So, how did Sophia University's bookstore rank against the American ones? Well, let's just say that, given how Japan typically outranks the US when it comes to education, it should come as no surprise to anyone that Sophia University (think the LSU of Japan) had a bookstore that mostly contained books. And I couldn't really tell, as everything was in Japanese, but it seemed to me like most of the books in the university bookstore were not fun books. No Snowmen at Night there.

Below, is a shot of their apparel section. You may not be able to tell in the picture, but it is really a large closet, with the accordion partition open. They had a few styles of shirts, but there was no dominant "school color" as far as I could tell. This is also the place where you can buy sporting equipment, and, if you have a club or an organization, this is where you would go to order their shirts. I know this because the people ahead of me in line were doing just that.

Just in case you're wondering, these boots cost $2500. Sometimes I think our nation's priorities are right where they should be.

Day 12: Tsukiji Fish Market (part 2), Kabuki, Harajuku

I made a second attempt to see Tsukiji Fish Market. The second time, however, I woke up a lot later than I was planning, and by the time I got there, the trucks were rolling away. I had missed the auction. However, there was still a lot to see.

As it turned out, it was kind of like Pike's Place.

The sushi sold outside the market is the freshest sushi anywhere. I really wanted to try some, but, try as I might, I couldn't get myself to eat sushi at 10:00 in the morning. It must be the American part of the Japanese-American.

I didn't stay too long because I had to get in line to by tickets for the kabuki play I wanted to see. When I told my dad I wanted to see kabuki, he told me it was something I would have to do when I was by myself. He described it as a slow death, and he claimed it would be even worse for me because I didn't understand Japanese.

Fortunately, unlike some countries, Japan caters to American tourists. They have made the kabuki experience as palatable as possible. Kabuki can last up to four hours, much like a football game if the players stood still for 20 minutes with only their mouths moving. However, for 800 yen, you can see one act, which lasts about an hour, and, for an additional 400 yen, you can get headphones with explanations of what is going on in English.

So I went to the Kabuki-za Theatre in Ginza, a few blocks from the market to see Onna Shibaraku (Female "wait a minute"). The plot of the play is an old one. An evil villain is about to execute the royal family, and then a hero calls for him to wait, and saves the day. The twist in this play was that the hero was a woman, the famed female warrior Tomoe Gozen. This being kabuki, all of the roles were played by men, and the comic relief comes because the hero is a woman played by a man, acting like a dainty woman who is supposed to be masculine enough to execute the villain and all of his minions.

They won't let you take pictures during the actual play, so here is a shot of the stage from my balcony seat before the performance started.

I thoroughly enjoyed it, much to my dad's disbelief.

I went back to Yotsuya to pick up Maria and Brooklyn, and we went to Harajuku. Harajuku, like Shinjuku and Shibuya, is one of the popular hangouts for youth. It has attracted some attention in the last few years for its street fashion.

Here are a couple of girls dressed in Harajuku-style clothing. A few years ago, Gwen Stefani began traveling with an entourage of Harajuku girls. They toured with her, appeared in a couple of her videos, and were basically like her human accessories. Needless to say, she got some backlash from Asian Americans who found the idea exploitive. I kind of agreed with them.

However, the fashions were pretty cool.

One of the things I really wanted to do while I was in Japan was watch a Japanese game show. The Simpsons did it. Chris Farley did it. I've seen them on Spike and YouTube, and they always seem wacky and a little bit dangerous.

I did not get to go to a Japanese game show. I asked Shane to figure out how I could get on one. He said he'd ask the person next to him at work, but he refused to go beyond that. Then I discovered the address for NHK Studio in Shibuya, and thought that might be a good place to start. Maria and Brooklyn headed back home, and I headed for the studio. After wandering, I finally found it.

There was a tour for about 200 yen, but it was all in Japanese. However, it was quite entertaining.

For example, this is a display from what I believe to be a children's show. That's a piece of sweet omlette.

And this is some sort of character that looks like a toilet. It reminded me of Sammie.




They were filming some other children's show that looked like Barney, and a show where a family was sitting around a table eating edamame. They asked us not to take pictures, so I have no pictures of the shows. All in all, it was a pretty good way to spend 200 yen.

On my way back to the station, there were two guys standing outside the station playing guitars. I liked the music-except for the fact that it was in Japanese, it didn't sound that different from the stuff I usually listen to.

I headed home to watch Brooklyn for a couple of hours while Shane and Maria went out to eat.

Not a bad way to finish a day.

Day 11: Family History Center, Asakusa, and Shinjuku

I have a confession to make:

There are a lot of things, as a Mormon woman, I know I should do, that I don't do. And I'm not just talking about things like food storage, which I am still trying to figure out as a single person who has no intention of living in her current residence for more two years. My immediate plan for a disaster is to be on very good terms with my sister and her family, so that if there's a run on food, they will take me in and let me live with them and their multitudinous cans of wheat and their Bosch mixer.

What I am talking about is family history. I have never been good at doing it. By this, I mean I have never done any. My excuse has always been that my mom has pioneer ancestors, and all of the work for her family that can be done has been done. Lame. And, on my dad's side, everyone before my great-grandparents lived in Japan, and it's pretty hard to get their records.

But, I'm in Japan now, and, before I left, I discovered two things:

• Tokyo has a family history center somewhere close to the temple.
• Someone there speaks English.

So, today, I trekked out to the family history center. I only had a vague idea of where it was, so I started out at the building where Shane and Maria have been attending church. This building also houses the Japan MTC, which, as far as I could tell, consists of about six rooms. I met one of the teachers who spoke English, and she was unaware that a family history center existed anywhere in Tokyo. She advised me to go to the church office building next to the subway station I had just come from. Lo and behold, the family history center was inside that building! I almost hugged the receptionist when she told me. She handed me a visitor badge and ushered me inside.

This is the building.

There, I met a nice sister who also spoke English, who chided me for not e-mailing ahead of time to let her know I was coming. I thought I was doing pretty well to realize there was a family history center. I can't imagine how I would have tracked down contact information for it. She couldn't find any of my names, but she explained what I would have to do to be able to get my family's record. I now have a plan.

Plus, I negotiated the subway-including an exchange-by myself for the first time.

After I got home, Maria dressed Brooklyn and we went to Asakusa. Asakusa houses another major shopping district where Maria had been once before and gotten some killer deals. So we spent some time shopping there, and I managed to get gifts for most of the people I needed to get gifts for. As an added bonus, we also saw a shrine.


We then went home to rest up for dinner in Shinjuku.

Shinjuku is somewhat like Shibuya, in that it is a hub for a much younger, hipper crowd. Evidence of this is the fact that, to get to the restaurant where we were going to have shabu shabu for dinner, we passed a corner with about 10 drag queens standing on it. With the exception of one, it was pretty hard to tell they were men in drag. I feel weird talking about my family history experience in the same post with drag queens, but, there you go.

Shabu shabu, like some of the other food I have experienced in Japan, is hands-on. At your table, you get a pot of boiling broth, and raw meat and vegetables to cook in the broth, along with sauced to dip each in, kind of like fondue. Shabu shabu is named for the sound the meat makes when you swish it in the broth to cook it. It's pretty good. The restaurant where we ate gave us 90 minutes to eat all we could.


I think we did pretty well.

Shinjuku is also a place where you can find really expensive fruit. Pictured below is a triangle-shaped watermelon and a square watermelon, which retailed for something like $600. I'm pretty sure they taste like regular melons, but, not having $600 to spare, I guess I'll never know.


We had to settle for a different type of extra special dessert.

A word about Japanese dessert:

Prior to coming to Tokyo, there was one thing I knew to be true about Japanese dessert:

If it isn't fresh fruit or extra-firm Jell-O, it's probably made from beans. And I'm not talking about cacao beans. I am talking about azuki (red) beans. It's a lesson I learned as a small child on New Year's when my dad's family participated in the only Japanese tradition we've managed to preserve over the last three generations: making mochi. Mochi is a dumpling-like substance made from pressed rice that's been formed into balls. In the olden days, it was made by filling a stump with cooked rice, and men taking turns hitting it with mallets. Being "not pure" Japanese, as a man I taught on my mission referred to me, we make ours today using sort of a bread machine. It becomes very dense, and you have to be careful not to put too much in your mouth at a time because you could choke on it. Mochi is often eaten by itself, in a broth, or with a dipping sauce made from soy sauce and sugar. Or, it can be filled with stuff. By far, the best thing to fill it with is ice cream. The worst thing to fill it with is an, bean paste made from azuki beans that has been sweetened with sugar. It's pretty bad, and, yet, someone in my family must like it because we make it year after year. All family traditions make sense, right? Mochi is not the only thing made with an, so I have learned to be careful about anything that looks like it could be hiding an, particularly if it is labeled as a sweet.

Mochi ice cream. I have never had the green tea flavored ones.

Since I got to Tokyo, though, I have eaten a ton of fabulous sweets, from chocolate to pastries to ice cream. Not super-authentic stuff, but it's been very tasty. So tasty, in fact, that I had almost forgotten about the bean rule.

Shane and Maria have been raving about Mochi Cream since I got here, and for good reason. I have never seen anything like the store-as far as food goes. It looked like Tiffany & Co, only instead of the glass cases inside the store containing diamond jewelry, they contained mochi. We each bought a few to take home. If you buy six, they put them in a fancy box (box not pictured).

I ordered a chocolate, and a sakura (cherry). Shane and Maria got several flavors, including apple pie, chocolate banana, and orange cheese. We passed them around and took bites of each flavor. They were all amazing, particularly the orange cheese, but something about the texture of the filling bothered me. Each mochi cream had a layer of mochi, and a creamy center. In between, though, there was a layer of flavored filling which had the suspicious texture of bean, kind of like refried beans.

I Googled it just to make sure, and I was right. The filling is made out of some sort of white bean that doesn't have much taste, so it is easily disguised by other flavors.

I liked them a lot. I am trying to just leave it at that. I'm a grown-up. I am mature enough to judge something based on my own personal preference, and not be bothered by the fact that it is made out of something it shouldn't be made out of.

I haven't told Shane and Maria yet. If it weighs on your conscience, go ahead.

Day 10: A Day of Rest

It was Sunday, and we were all pretty tired from our late-night karaoke experience in Shibuya. So we slept in late, went to church in a different ward, and came home for some spaghetti. That's all.

Day 9: Tokyo Tower and Shibuya

Not only was today the first day since my parents' left (I'm pretty sure they got home safely, since we called Danny, and he was driving around the airport grumbling about having to pick them up), but I also had the stunning realization that my Japan trip is rapidly coming to an end.

And I still have things left on my list.

Among those was to sing karaoke.

But we'll get to that in a little bit.

One of the Japanese cuisine experiences Shane insisted I have was yaki-niku. Apparently, there were a ton of these places in his mission, but none were as high quality as the one we went to. We went there for lunch, when it was cheaper. Yaki-niku is where you get several thin slices of beef which you cook yourself on a griddle at your own table. It is marinated in sauce and served with rice, and it was pretty darn good.
Here's Shane cooking with one hand and holding Brooklyn with the other hand.

And they give you bibs.

Shane and Maria are rapidly ending their time in Tokyo, as well, as Shane's internship finishes next week, and they will be spending some time touring the southern parts of Japan where he served his mission. So when Maria said she wanted to see Tokyo Tower, it sounded good to me.


So here I am in front of Tokyo Tower.

Inside Tokyo Tower was, of course, another market-like set of stalls selling assorted Japanese souvenirs. I am quickly learning that there are certain items you can find just about anywhere in the country. As much as possible, I try to shy away from those kinds of things, but it's pretty hard if you want to bring back souvenirs from Japan for lots of people without spending a ton of money. Anyway, I was wandering around these souvenir shops when I discovered something awesome and mildly disturbing:

Just in case the visual doesn't get my point across, let me try to say it with Seinfeld. Two episodes come to mind. The first is the one where George's fiancee Susan has the doll that looks like George's mother, and it is so disturbing to both him and his father because they continually hear her voice when they see it. Eventually, Frank destroys it. I'm not saying the little people inside the box talked to me, but I have kept them wrapped up.

The second episode is the one where Elaine finds a mannequin in a store that looks exactly like her, and she can't figure out where it came from and why it resembles her. That was sort of how I felt when I saw this tiny little box with the two figurines that looked like my parents. How did a box with my tiny parents get all the way over to Japan? I almost bought it right there, but I couldn't read the characters, and I was afraid they said something offensive (I could write a separate blog on offensive Japanese souvenirs, but I'm not going to) so I grabbed Shane. He saw the box, started laughing, and explained that the approximate translation of the writing was, "Always live a long life, Mom and Dad." At that point, we knew we had to buy it. So, I did. I'm contemplating whether it would be funniest to give it to my parents as a gift at Christmas, or to anonymously mail it to my brother Danny, who is still living with them and never reads this blog.

We contemplated going up on one of the observation levels of the tower, but the wait was about 50 minutes, which is too long for a baby. So, instead we went to Cold Stone. Yes, there is a Cold Stone in Tokyo, and, after walking through the rain, it was a welcome sight. That's Shane and Maria outside, finishing up their treats.


Cold Stone in Japan is exactly like it is in the States, down to the jar that says, "Will sing for tips." Nowhere else in the entire country is anyone receiving tips, but, at Cold Stone, if you put money in their jar, the high school-age people behind the counter will sing songs in English about ice cream. I had another Seinfeld experience when, after paying my bill, I put money in the tip jar, only to have none of the employees notice. I wasn't about to pull a George Costanza and pull the money out so that I could put it in again when someone was watching, so I put more money in. And they sang:

"Zip-ah-dee-do-dah
Zip-ah-dee-ay.
My oh my, what a wonderful day.
Plenty of ice cream heading my way.
Zip-ah-dee-do-dah
Zip-ah-dee-ay."

It was great. I wanted video them singing, so I waited inside the shop for someone else to tip them. Shane pointed out that only Americans would tip them, as tipping is truly a foreign concept in Japan (there were many American dollars in the tip jar), and he put money in himself so they would sing, I could video them, and he could get on with his life. So, here they are:



We also thought about going to the top of the Mori building, which is huge and has a great view, but they were charging $15. Plus, it started to rain.

Here I am, doing a Gene Kelly pose at last, in front of a statue of a giant spider at the Mori building:

After that, we headed home to rest up for karaoke in Shibuya.

A word about Shibuya: It is busy.

In Yotsuya, the part of Tokyo where we are staying, it's very slow-moving. Most of the people I see on the street are elderly or middle-aged. There's not a lot of nightlife. It's a good place to live.

Shibuya, on the other hand, is home to much of the Tokyo nightlife. It houses the busiest intersection in the world. When the light changes, people start crossing from six different directions, some going horizontally, some vertically, and some diagonally across the giant intersection. It is full of young people, many dressed in traditional Japanese yukata, others dressed as French maids, and others in funky clothes with crazy tights and shoes.

Here's a video of the people in action. It was still pretty early when we were crossing. I'm told it gets busier.



We stopped at the statue of Hachiko for a picture. The link is actually for a YouTube video of clips from a movie based on this story. Hachiko was an Akita dog who belonged to a professor at the University of Tokyo. He would meet his master coming off the train every day at the Shibuya station. When his master died, Hachiko continued to go to Shibuya station at the same time every night until he died. This is why there is a statue of him at the station, and the University of Tokyo has his remains. It is a very popular meeting place in Shibuya.

Here I am in front of the statue. As you can see, there were people meeting behind me.

Then we made our way to the karaoke place called Shidax. I think this is a play on the English phrase "she rocks" as all of the floors were themed with a different female fairy tale character, but I could be wrong.

In the US, karaoke is usually done in a bar on a stage, in front of many drunken strangers. The bar and drunken strangers aspect of the karaoke experience is what initially prompted me to buy my own machine.

In Japan, it's a little different. There are several huge complexes in Shibuya alone that rent out private rooms by the hour for groups to come do karaoke. You program the machine yourself for the songs you want (and they have several huge catalogs of music in several languages other than Japanese), and you can order food by phone. If you like karaoke and have money to spend, you could easily be here for several hours.

Here is the front desk of Shidax:

We were given a room number on the fourth floor, which was Mermaid Princess-themed.
I'm not sure if this is the story of the Little Mermaid, or if it is a Japanese fairy-tale. I am posting these pictures for everyone else to decide.


The hallways were all somewhat trippy like this. I have decided that, if I ever open a karoke establishment, I am going to do it with the exact same decor. I was a little disappointed, though, that the rooms were just rooms.

Some of the other themes included Snow White, Cinderella, Alice, and Kaguya-hime. I include a link to the Wikipedia entry of Big Bird in Japan, as this is where I first learned the story of Kaguya-hime, when I was about 8. It is one of the few Japanese stories I know, and like most Japanese stories, it leaves me feeling sad.

But what doesn't leave me feeling sad is karaoke. We signed up for one hour, not anticipating that it would take us 20 minutes to figure out how to get music going. Don't laugh. It was pretty complicated, even with Shane being able to read all the characters. Plus, I think Shane and Maria were a little overwhelmed in deciding what to sing. In the end, we all got to sing at least 3 songs. Shane and Maria did a couple of duets together, and I hit some of my favorite karaoke songs:

"Copacabana"
"Somebody to Love"
"Your Song"

Were we any good? Well, the karaoke machine scored us after each song, and there were a few songs on which we scored BETTER than the average. And, to prove it, I added a video of Shane singing "I Believe I Can Fly." Unfortunately, when Shane found out about it, he made me take it off. He actually stood and watched me to make sure that I did it. Sorry everyone. I guess you'll just have to take my word that he rocked.

Day 8: Tokyo

Things on my list I did NOT do today:

• Go to Tsukiji Fish Market
  

Before my parents' left this afternoon, my dad and I thought it would be fun to hit Tsukiji Fish Market. So we got up at 5:00 a.m., and took two subway trains to get there, only to discover no one was there. Okay, that's an exaggeration. There were several other confused tourists from various countries wandering around, probably wondering, just like we were, why it didn't look anything like Pike's Place in Seattle.

My dad and I peeked down a smelly alley where it was pretty obvious they usually sell or prepare fish and found one lone man sitting on a table, reading a newspaper and eating nigiri (a rice ball). He explained to my dad that it was a holiday, and no one was in the market that day. Dejected, we went back home.

That's Dad on the subway, staring at the Tsukiji Fish Market map.

Today was actually a quiet day. I saw my parents off as far as the Tokyo Station, and then I went back to the hotel where I spent some time talking to Maria and playing with Brooklyn. When Shane got home, we had okonomiyaki for dinner.


Shane describes it as a "Japanese pizza pancake." It contains some sort of flour-based batter, cabbage, egg, and meat of your choice. I had pork, Maria had beef, and Shane had "mixed" which contained, among other things, squid. I have to admit, it was pretty good. Shane explained to me that this is also a "drinking food" and it's Japanese translation is something like "cook up whatever you like."

The best part was how cute Brooklyn looked in her matching dress, hat, and shoes.

Day 7: Hakone

Hakone was my dad's idea. One of his areas on his mission was somewhat close to there, and he thought it would be fun to visit.

Hakone is something of a resort town, known primarily for its on-sen. On-sen are Japanese hot-springs used for public bathing. I have debated about putting this experience on my list of things to do in Japan, but finally decided against it because of a lack of desire to see other people naked.

I think, overall, my dad was slightly disappointed in the Hakone experience. He thought it was a little too much like Disneyland. I guess you can be the judge:

Here we are riding a sky tram through the woods. We stood on a platform where people loaded and unloaded from these things.

Here's a shot of the line we stood in while we were waiting to ride the boat across Lake Ashi:
Notice how it winds around.

Here's a shot of the boat, er-ship, we took across Lake Ashi.

And a shot of some paddle boats other people were riding in:
And, lastly, a shot of my dad with a pirate:
So, I guess, at least from this post, you could gather that Hakone shares some similarities with Disneyland. One notable difference, however, is that, instead of selling giant turkey legs like they do in Disneyland, Hakone offers roasted squid-on-a-stick.

I took a bite myself, mostly to say I'd done it. My dad described the texture as "boiled flip-flop." That's pretty accurate.

We had dinner in Odawara in a restaurant called Braissere (or something like that), where they gave us a funny look when we asked for extra rice. However, when we got back to Tokyo, Shane and Maria wanted to go to a gyoza (potsticker) restaurant. Since they were paying, we tagged along.

Gyoza is probably my favorite food. In the winter, I eat it at least twice a week with white or brown rice. In Texas, I have two options for gyoza:

• Pay $5 for about 10 pieces in the grocery store.
• Pay $5 for a huge bag with of about 60 with a mysterious expiration date from the Asian specialty store.

I am ashamed to say that I usually go with the second option.

So, I was really unprepared for how good gyoza could really be. We went to a place down some back alley in Tokyo that made gyoza and rice and not much else.

I will pause at this point to explain something that Shane told me yesterday: most Japanese cuisine goes back to drinking. I didn't really believe him until I was looking at one of my guidebooks, which listed several Japanese foods with descriptions that frequently included phrases like, "wonderful with sake" or "commonly served alongside beer in bars." What I am trying to say is that most of the people in this gyoza place were drinking.

This is one of those instances in which some knowledge I acquired somewhere that seemed random and irrelevant later became useful. During my San Diego conference, I sat in on a session about genetics and alcoholism. One phenomenon genetically relevant is the Asian flush, common to about 50% of Japanese and Chinese people. Basically, what it means is that many Asians have a lower tolerance for alcohol, and get "flushed" faster. I actually saw this phenomenon around me at the gyoza shop.


You can't see it in this picture. The stuff in the mug is peach soda. Trust me, though, it was all around us. But the gyoza was amazing. And no one gave us funny looks for ordering extra rice.

And, for the occasion, Brooklyn wore, for the first time, her denim jumper that Aunt Melanee gave her.



I think those are my feet with the chipped toenail polish and the funky flip-flop tan.

Day 6: Kamakura

Things I did not get to check off my list today:

• See the big Buddha statue.

We decided that on the way back from Kyoto, we should stop in Kamakura and see the Daibutsu (literally "big Buddha"). It is the thing to see in Kyoto. Here's a picture:

That's what we would have seen. However, the train from Kyoto took too long, and by the time we got to Kamakura, they had closed the statue. I'm not exactly sure how. I'm pretty sure he didn't go anywhere, and he's pretty big, so I think, unless they put a giant tarp over him at night, I think we could have seen him from somewhere. However, they told us at the train station (eki) that the statue would be closed by the time we got there, so we went to McDonald's, instead.

We had fries, ice cream, and giant, American-style fountain drinks, and nobody ever mentioned missing seeing Big Buddha.

Despite that, I couldn't resist when I saw this in the eki:

I guess that's as close as I'll get on this trip.

On our way home, we also stopped at another one of Japan's many gems: the 100 yen store.


Since arriving in Japan, I think my parents have visited the 100 yen store down the street from the hotel almost nightly. They go there, find exciting Japanese candy or cookies that they have never tried before, and stock up. They then run to the convenience store and buy American sodas to go with their treats. Every night. I'm pretty convinced they could have spent their entire Japan trip doing just that, and been completely happy.