Hello all,

I went to Japan at the end of July for 12 days (been back about 10 days now) for the 28th International Cosmic Ray Conference (ICRC). The meeting was in Tsukuba, which is an hour's train ride northeast of Tokyo. While the conference itself was about as exciting as a stack of bricks and Tsukuba manages to being equally compelling in its suburban way, I did enjoy the trip. This is mainly due to the food and my excursions into Tokyo.

First off, if you don't mind lots of rice and noodles, Japanese food is quite good. I like it much better than Chinese food - or at least the American interpretation of Chinese food. It doesn't stick to the ribs long though. I would wake up starving in the early AM hours practically every night I was there. They have about a million different types of sushi. The sushi menu in a typical restaurant is at least 5 times the size as the biggest one I've seen in the states. Interestingly, you do not get served wasabi with sushi in Japan (or at least the places I went in Tokyo and Tsukuba). Wasabi comes with other things, but not sushi.

You will get wasabi served to you in packets (like half-size catsup packets) in some places (but not the sushi places). Also, their fruit juices are excellent. They seem to be fresh squeezed everywhere you go.

Mind you they cost about $3 for a medium sized glass of it when you order it in a restaurant, but then this is slightly cheaper than getting a coke or a beer. My particular favorite was pomegranate juice. I wish I could breath it (good stuff!). Japanese breakfast consists of rice (of course), fish (cooked for once), what I would call a dinner salad (you won't see these at dinner), and miso soup. About the cheapest meal you can find is to duck into a kiosk type place on the side of the road or in a train station and get a bowl of soup with udon noodles (about $5, no matter wether you get it plain, with duck, shrimp, or whatever). I like eating udon there because it is good manners to make loud appreciative slurping noises as you suck up your noodles, and you can also drink the soup strait out of the bowl even in polite company. A cheap meal in a diner runs about $10-15, and in a real restaurant it always seems to come out to 2000 yen ($18) no matter what or how much you eat. At least you don't have to worry about tipping there (I tried it once, the waitress was completely baffled as to what I was trying to do).

Eating with a group of Japanese is very interesting. First off, you don't order your own food. Whoever sits closest to the waitress decides what everyone is eating by ordering whatever looks good to him. So then everyone takes food from the communal plates (remember to use the back end of your chopsticks whenever you grab more food from the community plate to put it on yours!). Similar story with the beer, which is apparently the only thing you are allowed to drink in groups (at least it doesn't occur to them that you might prefer water). You can't drink out of the bottle since they are community bottles of beer. Instead you must drink out of your puny little beer glass (like you would get morning fruit juice in at a bed and breakfast). The kicker is that you cannot fill your own glass, someone else must do it for you.

Consequently everyone is always trying to top off everyone else's glass.

Obsessively this is intended to promote consideration of other people while you are socializing/eating. The main effect in my opinion though is that it makes it completely impossible to tell how much you have drunk. This does things like make you miss the last bus back to Tsukuba from Tokyo station, burn your hair off while you are fire spinning, and other inconvenient things.

I was really ready for some cheese and bread by the time I got back to South Africa though.

Speaking of fire spinning, I met up with a fire performer from New Zealand named Nadia. She was a kind if somewhat somber woman in her late 20s who is teaching English in Zushi (another suburb of Tokyo, on the south southwest side, on the beach past Yokohama). She loosened up after hanging out for a while. The first day I was in Tokyo (went twice for two days each) she showed me around town, visited a few Buddhist temples with me, interpreted sushi menus for my culinary delight, and took me to a juggling club meeting. The meeting was interesting. It was in a gymnasium and was really quite crowded. most the people there were professional (more or less) street performers. They were quite pleased to have an American living in South Africa in their midst. They were very excited about this in fact. I tried to tell them I was in Japan for a conference hosted by the University of Tokyo in Tsukuba, but apparently this got translated into me lecturing at said university.

Apparently this is a very prestigious school, and things like this matter a lot to the Japanese, so everyone was suitably impressed with me despite the fact that it wasn't entirely accurate. We went out to dinner with 10 or so of the people from the juggling club meeting. This would of course be the night I missed the last bus back to Tsukuba. Thus I would up spending the night in Zushi at Nadia's house. This was a real treat.

Zushi is an old town and was not touched during the huge B-29 fire bombing raids on Tokyo during late WWII. The nearest you could approach her house by road was about 200 meters. The rest of the way you had to walk through alley ways between traditional style houses and gardens, most of which were more than a hundred years old (some much older I think). It was especially surreal by moonlight. Her house was also an old traditional house - compact, two stories tall, many small rooms, and a lovely terraced garden out back (at bit unkempt - she claims to get sour looks from the neighbors because of that). The sleeping closets were one of the strangest features - little subrooms stacked two high (one at floor level, one chest high, always in pairs except for one that I interpreted to be the "master bedroom") and separated by the several common rooms they were sort of part of by sliding panels. The current occupants (a conglomeration of 5 western women and one absent guy from various places) just used most of them as storage closets though, as there were plenty of small "common" rooms to use as bedrooms. Since her house was by the sea, this also led to my first encounter with Japanese mosquitoes. These suckers are huge!!! Apparently their larger mass houses a larger nervous system too, as they are very devious and very hard to swat. It was a bit warm and humid that night, but I slept with the covers over my head anyway to try and avoid the skeeters. The next morning when I finally saw the town by daylight, I had to admit that her neighborhood was right out of a movie or some oriental fable. Very choice (and apparently an order of magnitude cheaper than living in Tokyo).

I eventually worked my way back to Tsukuba that day, which is when I realized it takes almost three hours to travel from one side of Tokyo to the other by train - which is supposedly by far the fastest way to do it. Apparently driving takes almost twice as long - which I believe seeing as how small and absolutely jam packed the streets are. Nadia had invited me to join her at a fire performance gig the following Saturday night (3 days later), so I worked my way back to Zushi for that directly after I gave my talk at the conference. I left the conference sight at 4:30. I arrived on the beach bar where the gig was at about 8:15 - nearly 4 hours to go about 35 miles. The scene at the beach bar was nice, and I met a very lovely (read "ultra cute!") Japanese woman named Yonoka who I was quickly smitten by there. She was tending bar and had a very American sounding accent, despite having only ever been to the USA for 3 weeks (in Waco of all places). Apparently she went to high school at a school for Japanese kids sponsored by and sited on a US military base - evidently good Japanese high schools are very difficult to get into (they have to take entrance exams that are supposedly harder than the SATs) and the US military, as part of a goodwill effort or something, tries to make good secondary schooling available to as many Japanese as possible who do not get into the prestigious high schools.

So going to an American sponsored high school on a base is not quite as good as going to a prestigious Japanese one, but it is better than going to one of the lesser Japanese schools (which I guess are like trade schools or something). Who knew? Anyway, once we finished our second and final fire performance set, she tried to talk me into hanging around till the bar closed. But the people I was with (Nadia and a guy in the US air force named Dimitri - who happens to be an 8 year Burningman veteran from LA associated with death guild/thunderdome for those of you that care about such things) were keen on getting to a party that was a two hour drive away (would have taken 30 minutes in Houston), and she couldn't leave till midnight (it being 9:30 by now). So regretfully I had to go.

But actually it was worth it, as the party turned out to be a large outdoor rave, and there were about a dozen very talented Japanese fire performers there. Japanese fire performers take being sexy very seriously. They are also complete kamikazes. I thought I was wary of the South African fire performers safety practices. Well, the Japanese ones are entirely non-existent. In fact, they seem to pride themselves on daring the fire to make trouble. But enough about safety. The location was in one of Tokyo's western suburbs. It was set on a terraced, cedar-wooded hillside that looked like it belonged more in a scene in "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" than as a host to a rave. The multi level effect of the terraces was a particularly nice effect for the party though, and nicely facilitated multiple ambient conditions - Buy your drinks and have chill space on this terrace, one type music here, another there, fire and glow spinning on yet another. I met and talked to a rasta-type guy from Guinea who was amazed to find someone else living in Africa in attendance. Japanese raver chicks are just too hot BTW. There were even a couple with dreadlocks - a strange but very appealing combination.

Everyone was very entertained to have an American fire spinner there. They immediately started copying all of my moves that were new to them.

These guys (nearly all them - but especially the male ones) are like bulldogs when it comes to new tricks - they will not let go of it until they have it down. And then Dimitri did some fire breathing. I kinda wish in retrospect he hadn't, because (not to be shown up) all the Japanese guys had to start doing fire breathing too - with kerosene!!!

It was pretty clear that they were not terribly experienced with fire breathing, but they just wouldn't stop trying after Dimitri blew a few fire balls. They were taking big mouthfuls out of a 5 liter fuel can (while holding burning staves and/or poi) and spitting the fire without even wiping off the fuel that spilled all over them. No wet towels or fire extinguishers around, and this one guy in particular would hold partial mouthfuls through like a minute of spinning routine (while breathing very hard - he was really exerting himself) before spitting out the last of it in a fireball to end the performance. He was a crazy mo-fo, and I suspect he'll be dead before too long. But I was going to stop with the safety rant, wasn't I? I'm probably boring the non-fire people on this list to death...

Finally left the rave about 7 am. I was quite a sight to see on the trains full of people commuting to work (yes, lots of business commuters in suits and ties, even on a Sunday). I was a complete mess really - sweat soaked from dancing and fire-spinning all night, singed hair, and covered in soot and mud. I'm sure I smelled really nice too, though I suspect the smell of kerosene overpowered the alcohol and sweat.

Did I mention the porta-potties at the party? Behind the door is a squatter - like a hole-in-the-ground latrine, but catered to Japanese sensibilities with conspicuous styling and splash guards. No sitting on the can for these people. And the urinal is on the side of the unit - the outside side. So while the girls are standing in cues to wait for an open porta-pottie, they are watching all the guys piss in profile. This brings me to the toilet in my hotel room in Tsukuba. This thing had controls that looked like they should be on a xerox machine! There was the trickle flush option (constant flow of water to that the toilet would gently flush every so often while you sit), the air freshener button, the bidet feature, and (my personal favorite) the "warm stream".

The Japanese don't even have to wipe - the warm stream does all, and does it remotely at the push of a button. Pure genius. The hot water pipes for the shower run behind the mirror above the sink - no fogged mirrors after a shower. Oh yeah, and the phone for the hotel room was positioned above the toilet. All these marvels make me wonder how much time the Japanese spend in the bathroom.

The last event of note was the earthquake. It wasn't a big one (only 4.5 on the Richter scale - at one minute to 9pm on August 4th), but it was my first and I was in my room at the time on the 9th floor and it was a bit disconcerting. I decided I don't really care for earthquakes or buildings that sway a lot.

Miscellaneous observations: Anything under $5 that can possibly be sold in a vending machine is. The place is vending machine crazy. There are even vending machines sitting in the entry landings of some people's private residences (where can I get a coffee, a ball point pen, and a CD-R? Oh, try over on the Hasagawa's porch 3 doors down...). The smallest monetary bill is 1000 Yen - about $9. Everything less than that is change. This gets very heavy and bulky. After getting off the train, you can easily realize that $15 dollars worth of change had fallen out of you pocket while you were sitting (which sucks). Pawn shops are called "hard-off" stores. You can watch the 10 o'clock news on the side of a skyscraper while walking across a major intersection. Every street in downtown Tokyo has more neon than you could possibly make a dent in given a hour with a pellet gun. Cartoons and anime advertise absolutely everything - even serious institutions like banks have cartoon mascots pasted proudly across their windows and advertisements. There is an undeniable obsession with cuteness, and everything has a happy, brainwashed patina. Underneath it all they are very serious. They are friendly and exceedingly polite and nice, but horribly serious. The women less so than the men at least. There are of course exceptions, but by and large I noticed these exceptions did not have jobs. Hell, even the street performers were very serious-minded. You can really see it riding on the trains too - people with frowns trying to sleep everywhere, even standing up, even in the middle of the day, like the time on the train was their only time in the world to be alone and be able to rest. And if they weren't sleeping, they were reading these cheap adult (and I do mean "adult") comic books (even the women) printed on pulp paper and available virtually everywhere for a dollar or two - take your pick of any 50 available each week. A majority of the women dress scandalously enough to get them stoned in most Muslim countries, and then every so often someone goes by in a kimono or other traditional dress and no one pays anymore attention than one would a guy wearing a kilt in Scotland. It is an odd thing to sit and look at all these layers of eroticism and seriousness, modern and traditional, all lacquered together with a thick coating of happy mindless cuteness. No wonder all the infants and toddlers there manage to look completely bewildered all the time.

One last comment - there are far more models of Japanese automobiles available in Japan than in the states, and almost all of them come in a station wagon version as well (even the Lexus and Acura makes) . I have to say the Honda Accord turbo station wagon is actually pretty cool.

Station wagons in Japan are as ubiquitous as SUVs in the states.

Overall, I have to say I enjoyed Tokyo a lot. I don't think I could handle living there, and certainly not working there, but it is definitely worth a visit.

As far as my life in South Africa is concerned, things are pretty much same-ol', same-ol'. I'm getting pretty bored with Potch and am pretty sure at this point I won't say here past next February. I've more or less got a relationship going here with a local girl named Stefanie Viljoen who is studying environmental law here at the university.

Unfortunately the maturity difference is a little too great (she is 22 and doesn't even always act that) for things between us to get any more serious than they already have (which isn't that much). That said, I quite like her as a friend even if dating isn't working out as wonderfully as it might have. I'll probably keep seeing her for a while because of that and the fact that, despite their general good looks, the women in Potch are totally uninteresting to me. With only rare exceptions (such as Stef and her family), people around Potch are not terribly interesting to talk to and they are more than a little too self-centered. This is not the case for South Africa on the whole, and I suspect I wouldn't get on too well in a conservative small town in the middle of say Nebraska either.

I'm getting ridiculously good at shooting pool and can now beat people who would have cleaned the floor with me 6 months ago - but that comes and goes (sometimes I still suck). Unfortunately the pool tables here are different enough (pocket size and width, ball size, and other such

things) that it may not translate that well to shooting pool back in the states. I've also finally learned that you should just go ahead and trounce a South African pool opponent if you can, as they will not appreciate your being polite and letting them save face. They'll razz you for missing an easy shot or whatever it is you are doing in order to not embarrass them, and frankly they are much more respectful of skill if you flaunt it (which seems to me to be a different attitude than in the states where humble skill is more appreciated than a showoff). But maybe that is just another small-town thing.

The trip to Ghana I was hoping to take in late August/early September (for my birthday) has been either delayed or canceled, I'm not sure which yet. The Peace Corps had different plans for my friend Julia who I was to meet there. So I am stuck in Potch for the foreseeable future except for my semi-weekly forays to the fire/drumming circle in Pretoria (which I am enjoying more and more as I make more acquaintances and friends there - I wish the people there lived in Potch). The University of Natal (in Durban) has invited me to come give a couple lectures there one week sometime this spring (fall for you guys), so at least I'll get a paid surfing trip out of that.

Winter is finally receding and the temperatures are getting to be reasonable. It was miserably cold for the better part of three months.

The worst part about it that indoors was rarely warmer than outdoors - no insulation, and all doors and windows let huge drafts in so heaters don't accomplish much. Still no rain since April or so besides a couple freak showers of short duration once a month or so. We are now moving into the windy season, and it is most definitely very windy. It is a shame I don't have a sailboat here and a decent lake to sail it on in the area. Between the dryness and the wind, there is lots of dust and many wild fires (which go totally unchecked - this may be a good thing, as they never get too large since it all burned last year too). Dust and ash are everywhere, even inside. Some days the smoke smell is unavoidable no matter where you go. The locals barely notice, as there is nothing to do about it (except perhaps get better window and door seals - which might really help with that cold weather too) and cleaning ladies come cheap around here (starting to think I should hire one myself). Apparently this is power-outage season as well, with the wind (and fire?) knocking out some power line or another. I don't even bother to reset my alarm clock anymore as there isn't much point to it. Now I see why all computers here at work have an individual battery power backup system they plug into despite the relatively high cost of these items (usually South African institutions are notoriously cheap on stuff like that - mostly because of a genuine lack of funds).

Well, that's about it. It may be a while before my next update, as I doubt there will be much of interest to say anytime soon.

Take care everyone,

-v-