Notes on Las Vegas

This is a young city, where buildings are considered aged at 20 years (compare that to my house in MA which was built in 1893). And recession be damned, this is a growing city, with last week's unveiling of City Center and an additional 4,000 new hotel rooms. The Strip is slated to double in size in the next couple decades, stretching south to reach the M resort.

Water conservation is a major issue, and houses are allotted a certain amount of water usage annually. Or you can drill private wells. The tap water here does not taste very good; Lake Michigan is better by far, and the Finger Lakes top that. If you destroy your lawn by covering it with gravel or sand, you can get compensation from the government by sending in photographic evidence. Housing and land are cheap and plentiful, which makes the city surprisingly car friendly and conversely, pedestrian unfriendly. Parking on the strip is generally free at casino lots, and free with validation downtown. I can't think of another urban center that boasts free parking. There is no subway system (other than the Strip lightrail), but the bus system seems fairly extensive. Walking down the Strip is a slow process due to crowded sidewalks and the overhead crosswalk system. Each time you cross a street, you have to climb up and down a flight of stairs (or take the escalator). The streets are laid out on an imperfect grid system similar to Chicago's, with 8 blocks to a mile, and the Strip dividing addresses east and west. Avoid driving on the Strip whenever possible; it can take over an hour to traverse the four miles. However you can travel 60 or 70 blocks in just 10-15 minutes if you head away from the Strip.

There is a vibrant "Chinatown" just a couple miles west of the Strip, a series of shopping plazas and storefronts along Spring Mountain Road. I found it quite diverse compared to other asian enclaves, which are generally dominated by one ethnicity. In this two mile stretch though, there are strong Korean, Japanese, Vietnamese and Filipino offerings. Prices are low, possibly due to the proximity to CA. For a dollar, you can pick up 12 heads of garlic, a pound of tilapia or 3 pounds of limes. Restaurants are abundant and many are cash only. The pho I had here was just okay, but the duck feet and reindeer were excellent.

Las Vegas must be the only city in the world which characterizes itself by imitating other cities. In the four miles of the Strip, you will pass a mock Eiffel Tower, the Statue of Liberty, Venetian gondolas, an Egyptian pyramid, Roman columns and a medieval castle. And in case that's not enough to grab your attention, you can watch an exploding volcano outside of the Mirage (colored water and lights set to music) and scantily clad bucaneers at the Treasure Island pirate show. I was warned that this was NOT family friendly, but opted to drag the crew there anyway for maximum hilarity. Unfortunately, it is currently closed for the winter.

I didn't take any of the prostie cards that they pass out on the Strip (figured they might be infectious), but Steven and Stanley grabbed them by the dozen (for Irony, I imagine). Having collected about fifty or so, they then decided to try standing on a corner and passing them out. This was rather unsuccessful. Then Stanley tried to drop one into a homeless guy's hat, and the homeless guy got mad and started yelling after him, "Boy! Leave me alone!"

Hoover Dam and the Grand Canyon

The artificiality of the Strip aside, the Las Vegas area actually has lots of natural attractions worth seeking out. Red Rock Canyon is a short drive away, and you can get to Lake Mead and Hoover Dam in less than an hour. With 4-5 hours of driving, you will reach the Grand Canyon in AZ, and if you drive west instead, you will hit Death Valley in CA. With a bit of internet scouting, I found a $79 bus tour that would take you to see Hoover Dam, Lake Mead and the Grand Canyon in an all-day excursion. So, one morning at 5 am, we all bundled up and hopped onto a tour bus to escape the city.

Hoover Dam was constructed at the height of the Great Depression, and completed in 1936, under budget and 2 years ahead of schedule, an amazing feat for a public works project. Lake Mead is the reservoir created by the dam. At completion, Hoover Dam was the world's largest hydroelectric power generating facility and the world's largest concrete structure. Currently, it is ranked 38th in hydroelectric power generation.

If you are ever depressed about the state of American science, hearing about the ingenuity of Hoover Dam construction will cheer you up. Two cofferdams were constructed to create a dry riverbed for construction. To divert the flow of the Colorado River, four diversion tunnels were blasted into the walls of Black Canyon, with a combined length of over 3 miles. To smooth the sides of the canyon, high-scalers were suspended from the canyon walls with ropes. They strategically placed dynamite in crevices, then swung away just in time to avoid the blast. There were 112 deaths recorded during dam construction, but contrary to rumors, no bodies were buried inside the dam. However, there is a dog buried inside, a mascot adopted by the construction workers.

When the Bureau of Reclamation solicited bids for dam construction, there was no single company with the capabilities to construct a dam of this size. So, six construction firms on the West coast banded together to bid for the contract. Appropriately, they called themselves "Six Companies." This being the height of the Depression, stable jobs were scarce and Six Companies was able cut corners on worker safety and pay. When striking workers demanded greater access to water and better working conditions, they were fired and replaced.

Two years after construction began, engineers were ready to pour concrete for the dam. Since concrete contracts and generates heat as it hardens, the dam was built in interlocking trapezoidal pours to prevent cracking. If the dam had been done in one single pour, it is estimated that it would have taken 125 years to cool and harden.

As you drive over the top of the dam, you cross the border from Nevada to Arizona, or vice versa. Since AZ doesn't observe DST but is in the Mountain time zone, there are two clocks on either side that show the correct time.

The dam is curved like an eggshell to better distribute water pressure. Two spillways protect the dam from being overtopped by water. These have been used only 3 times in the history of the dam. Lake Mead contains over two years worth of water from the Colorado River. You cannot overemphasize the impact that Hoover Dam had in reshaping the development of the West. Looking at the dam, I felt a mixture of awe, pride and terror at mankind's ability to reshape his environment.

The kids

The old people

Afterwards, we continued west through Arizona to the Grand Canyon. This is the first time I've been in a desert climate, and the mountains are drastically different from the verdant Appalachians that I am accustomed to seeing. I fell sleep for a couple hours, and when I woke up, the landscape had morphed from arid desert dirt to picturesque snow-capped mountains and pine trees. Looks like I came all the way from Chicago to be surrounded by more snow and wind.

We stopped at a visitor's center for lunch, and watched a half-hour National Geographic IMAX film titled "Grand Canyon: The Hidden Secrets." Unsure of whether or not to see the movie, the tour coordinator told us, "It will be the best $12 you've ever spent. I used to tell people that if they saw it and thought it wasn't worth the $12 bucks, they could call me and I would refund their money...then a group of 58 people called and wanted their money back." With such a rousing recommendation, we all decided to see the movie, and it was totally worth every penny, definitely the best IMAX film I've ever seen. I would go so far as to say it was better than seeing the actual canyon, because the footage of the inner canyon walls and whitewater rapids is something we wouldn't be able to see. You also learn about the history of exploration in the canyon, and how the canyon is still relatively untouched by modernity, an untamed pièce de résistance by Nature. If you visit the South Rim of the Grand Canyon, definitely make a point to stop and see this movie.

We have arrived! You can't see the ground, but it was treacherously icy near the edge, and my mom was freaking out about one of us slipping and falling underneath the railing.

Mather's point, the widest part of the Grand Canyon

This area is where ~90% of photos of the Grand Canyon are taken

Group shot in front of a stagecoach with everyone except Uncle Thuan

Stanley and Marilyn sword fighting with hiking sticks in a gift shop, luckily we didn't get kicked out.

Stanley pretending to be a unicorn. Icicles were an immense source of fascination for the Cali kids.

Sunset over the Grand Canyon, framed by picture-perfect snow-covered pine trees

Christmas

I have now celebrated 25 Christmases, and though they've varied wildly in terms of location, company and gift quality (the bubble gum pink shoes were a nadir), every celebration has been marked by reconnecting with people I haven't seen in a while. This year, Christmas sort of turned into this domino effect of families latching onto other friends and families to converge in Vegas. At one point, we had a roving horde of 20 asian people. Seriously, if I weren't part of this group, I would be scared of us. It was loud. I tried to get people to form battle formations, but this proved to be too complicated/people were inept at making rows of four. Then, I assigned everyone a number and tried to get people to count off. This was also a formidable task because people kept forgetting their numbers. Le sigh.

Three years ago, when we gathered with this set of relatives, we put together a gingerbread house. Since the constructing-something-gingerbread thing clearly needs to become a tradition, I picked up a gingerbread tree this year. The piping of the icing was surprisingly tricky, the green icing didn't look at all like leaves (the way the box looked) and the overall effect was sort of like slime dripping down steps.

Here's the finished tree, with a snowman on the bottom-left and presents in front. Some of us (high school boys, ahem) looked at the presents (upside-down) and immediately started making comments about boobs.

Then of course, we immediately dismantled the entire thing. The gingerbread was pretty tough to bite, but it was still edible overall. Mmm, sugar, preservatives and Red 5.

That's right, we were all drinking (mock) mojitos by noon on Christmas. What better way to celebrate a birthday??

As a reminder that we are in Vegas, the house down the street has this ridiculous 90,000 light display, synchronized to music broadcast on 95.9 FM for a four-block radius. According to the hand-out, the owners begin work on the lighting system after Halloween, and the light show goes live after Thanksgiving. There are 16 dedicated circuits of 20 amps each powering the lights, and the electricity bill is comparable to one month of heavy summer a/c. You can't see it in the video, but there is a custom made Ferris wheel, built in pieces similar to an erector set. During the off-season, the lights and equipment are stored in a large barn. Why do they do it? "We are both still kids at heart, and enjoy seein the smiles on all the children, especially the "adult" ones. This is our Christmas gift to everyone." Let's hear it for public goods.

Signs

In case you weren't aware, sex sells. Here's a selection of signage from the Strip:

At the M&M World store, four floors chock-full of M&M golf tees and poker chips

Paris (casino) is filled with lots of Frenglish, like "Le Car Rental"

This moving billboard and one for Chippendale's moved up and down the Strip, but I couldn't find the stripper mobile, alas.

The line for this nightclub was pretty intimidating, my pi t-shirt would not have passed muster.

Somehow I didn't realize that shrimp cocktail actually came served in a cocktail glass until this trip.

I did a double take when I saw this leaflet because at first glance I thought it said "barely legal asian blondes." That would win points for most specific porn demographics ever in my book.

Roots

In case you are wondering, I haven't been blogging my Las Vegas escapades extensively for a few reasons: 1) the density of WTF-I-must-blog-this-now events is lower compared to Tokyo, 2) I have comparatively less control over my downtime and by extension, blogging time, and 3) sheer laziness.

Let point #1 in no way undermine your opinion of Vegas however. The thing is, though Vegas has strong potential for hilarious shit to take place, the prospects for ridiculousity are rather muted if one is traveling with one's parents. At least, that is what happens with my parents. Moreover, I am here with a good deal of extended family, most of whom are well-meaning but fairly conservative, typical Asian parents. And well, if it is no fun to drink alone, it is not much better to drink while surrounded by a dozen sober/underage people. It is a darn shame that none of these cousins are legal. Ironically, I somehow got suckered into playing bartender and making mocktails for everyone.

This is not to say that vacation hasn't been fun, but simply that this is much more a family vacation than a Vegas vacation. Which is fine, seeing as I haven't seen my family in 6 months and my cousins in about 3 years. I actually arrived a couple days before Chester (something about a minor snowstorm on the eastern seaboard...), and for that period, I felt like I was an only child. I can't remember the last time I had the undivided attention of my parents, and it felt pretty weird. On the other hand, I did enjoy catching up with my mom on family gossip, and it feels good to speak extensive amounts of Chinese.

Much to my relief, Chester arrived soon enough, and pretty much the second thing he said was "Hey Crystal, feel my pecs!" Apparently he's been making ample use of his gym pass at school, and can now bench his own weight. Um, what happened to the scrawny nerd I left behind in MA?

All was not lost though, as Chester whipped out a DVD with the Christmas special for It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia. We've finally reached the point where our interests have converged and we find the same things funny (IASIP, Hipsters Discussing Cyclocross). Six years is a significant age difference for siblings, and as the older child, I always took the lead in Making Shit Happen. This week, for the first time, it dawned on me that Chester is all grown up and I could afford to take a step back.

My cousins have also grown by leaps and bounds, losing rounded baby faces and gaining height with shocking speed. It seems that longish hair is in these days for guys. Or maybe it's just the recession-friendly option.

Where's Chester?

My mom (#6) is closest to her two younger siblings (#7-8), so we tend to hang out with their families and shun the others. The second generation is pictured here in a classic sidewalk self-portrait. We run the gamut from 8th grade (Marilyn) to two years post-college (me). I was mildly taken aback when Marilyn told a masturbatory joke, and also when she began laughing uproariously and pointing at a sign advertising Hot Babes with the number 696-9696...kids these days.

My aunt brought along her dogs as well, two pint-size chihuahuas. Apparently, shelters in CA are flooded with chihuahuas, not surprising given the popularity of toy dogs in purses on the west coast. We never had pets at home other than the cursory goldfish because my mom thinks they're too much trouble. As it turns out, she used to have a dog when she was a kid (my uncle kept teasing her, "Remember that time you made me go buy five cookies, and gave one to me and four to the dog?"). Then somewhere along the way she went grinch. I'm not firmly planted in either the pet or no pets camp, but I could kind of see her point when we got back one night to find that Lucy had gotten out of the kitchen, where we had penned her, and had proceeded to pee in four places, poop in several more, and her sweater had somehow disappeared. Oh and, she dragged a pair of my underwear into the living room, where Chester found it. Awk.

Media Dinners

So the other night I went to a media dinner for the opening of two new restaurants. It was incredibly stressful. It was also extremely rewarding.

Media dinners are held by restaurants to quickly spread the word about an opening, advertise a new menu, introduce a new chef, etc. Back in the old days, this was a good way to get local journalists, writers and publicists all on the same page and to answer any questions at once. Nowadays, the lines between journalists, free lance writers and bloggers have blurred, and many mainstream media publications forbid their staff from accepting gifts. That prevents traditional reporters from attending these sorts of galas, where you are plied with all sorts of complimentary food and drink. Wait, so this is a party with free food and wine, what's to be stressed out about?

Mistake #1: severely underdressing. I've been to these types of functions before, but they were smaller and more low-key than this particular party. I'd just come from work, so it wasn't as if I was wearing jeans, but as I walked into the lounge I quickly realized that in a sea of black cocktail dresses, I stuck out like a sore thumb.

Mistake #2: arriving alone. Since I'd gotten the invitation last-minute, I didn't have a chance to grab someone else to accompany me. (Usually I show up with my editor.) Picture the discomfort of going to a bar by yourself. Now add the unease of being a lowly grad student at a prestigious conference. As I cast glances at the unfamiliar faces around me, I overheard snippets like "You were at Blackbird with Thomas? Who else was he with, Grant? But of course!" That would be eminent chefs Thomas Keller and Grant Achatz, by the way. Great, I not only look like a hot mess, I am surrounded by people (who know people who know people...) who are my heroes. I beelined to the champagne station.

After chugging a flute of champagne, I resolutely dove back into the crowd, looking for openings and people who seemed amenable to making new friends. At your average party, you ask things like where do you work, what do you study, and where are you from. Here, the default was to quiz people on the publications they write for. Invariably, I would mention that I work in economics research at the Fed, which resulted in a casual "Oh, that's interesting" before the conversation came to a dead end. Let's just say that my knowledge of asset-backed securities was of no help in this setting. Just as I was wondering if my inner hotelie had died and I'd completely lost the ability to make small talk, I struck up a conversation with a guy who works in film, and we started talking about Miyazaki and my recent trip to the Ghibli Museum. Everyone else began tuning out, but heck, I was thrilled to have made a friend, and one who watched anime to boot.

Mistake #3: chugging alcohol. Though this goes against my usual behavior at places with open bars, I strongly recommend not getting drunk, or even tipsy, at these affairs. After all, you need to remember these people's names, jobs, publications, etc for next time. And I am so bad at remember names and faces to begin with, I really don't need any extra handicaps.

The rest of the night went more smoothly as I met other area publicists, bloggers and minor Chicago food scene celebs. Some were quirky and eccentric, others were stand-offish, but the majority were friendly and interested in meeting people. Stories were swapped on who to call to kill your chickens (Mike Sula), and how David Chang (of Momofuku) decided to go get tacos at Big Star at 3 am while he was in town for a book signing last week. I debated the ethics of media dinners and journalistic integrity with other bloggers, and discussed asshole chefs and past scandals (like the ad Rick Bayless did for Burger King) with publicists. I met the chefs and management team for the host restaurant, and we were regaled by the manager's stories of working for his aunt as a youth. The aunt in question is none other than organic revolution figurehead, Alice Waters. My jaw dropped when I heard that.

I need a Twitter account. Also a black cocktail dress. And a better memory for names.

Holiday Shorts

After the frenetic pace of posting in Tokyo, I haven't been updating, partly because I needed a break and partly because I've spent an embarrassing number of hours watching Fullmetal Alchemist in the last couple weeks. But due to popular demand, here is what I've been up to in the last weeks of 2009:

• For the first time, I hosted Thanksgiving dinner this year for assorted friends and Thanksgiving orphans. Since my rule of thumb for dinner parties and potlucks is to never cook anything I haven't cooked before, I immediately ruled out turkey and substituted beer can chicken instead. Besides, beer can chicken looks theatrical and complicated while being really easy. In essence, you put an open can of beer inside the chicken's chest cavity, and the beer evaporates into the chicken and keeps it moist. My other concern was carving the chicken, and I spent a while reading the wikihow on how to carve poultry. Luckily, Sean volunteered to cut up the chicken for me; this kid is definitely getting invited to all future dinner parties. The rest of the menu included sun-dried tomato hummus, vegetable crudite platter, acorn squash-apple soup with pepitas, zucchini cups stuffed with cannellini bean, mashed potatoes, sauteed mushrooms over cheese grits, cornbread stuffing, cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie and pecan pie.
• Due to a series of (un?)fortunate events, I recently got a stand mixer. That's right, this is the Kitchen Aid stand mixer, something I've coveted for years but could never justify buying myself because I don't bake nearly that much. But now that I have a shiny cobalt blue stand mixer, I have been making an effort to bake bread once a week. The results have been mixed (har), and I have yet to duplicate restaurant quality bread, but hopefully it will get easier with practice. After I get tired of breads, I plan to move on to macaroons, meringues and marshmallows. Or, maybe it's time to splurge on the attachment appliances, which you can use to turn your mixer into an ice cream maker, pasta roller, meat grinder, grain mill, etc. Pictured below is focaccia topped with Bergkase mountain cheese, rosemary, red pepper and onion flakes.

• After seeing this amazing barbershop video and Tomas' Lymph Notes project, I was inspired to do some singing of my own, and decided to rope people into going caroling with me. I tried to recruit people who either a) were strong musicians and would be able to read music or b) were ballsy enough to sing in public with me. Unfortunately, the two sets did not really intersect. This meant that the people who were singing correctly were far too quiet, and the people who were out of tune were singing quite exuberantly and enthusiastically. I did my best to belt out the melody to cover up any discrepancies. At any rate, it was still fun and I can now say that I've caroled under the Millenium Park Bean.
• With Chester off to college and out of the house for the first time, the parentals have been relishing their newfound status as empty nesters/having a mid-life crisis. For instance, my mother informed me the other day that she signed up for belly dance lessons. (Do not make comments on how my mom is a MILF.) And for the holidays, we are abandoning the traditional New England Christmas for Christmas in...Vegas. Yeah, this will be hilarious. My uncle (#7) and his family are coming too. Also my aunt (#8) and her family. And their two dogs. And also my aunt's brother in law and his family are coming along. And my mom's friend from St. Louis and his brother. I have been assigned the task of finding family-friendly activities to keep the not-yet-legal high schoolers entertained. Do you think we can go looking for the stripper mobile? No?? Ok, I am also planning an excursion to see Hoover Dam and the Grand Canyon. As it so happens, J&P will also be in Vegas at the same time, so I might sneak off for a bit to hang out on the Strip with them.

Survival Japanese with Minimal Effort, or How I Started Obsessively Watching Anime (cringe)

I consider myself decent at charades, but after scrutinizing Google Maps and ogling the spaghetti platter of Tokyo train lines, I decided it might be helpful to at least learn some basic Japanese before traveling. Hence, I loped off to the library and picked up the Berlitz Japanese in 30 Days course book and CD...I'd be practically fluent in a month, right? The Meguro Language Center also offers a nice collection of worksheets that you can download. I dutifully learned some vowel sounds and began piecing together rudimentary sentences. After a few days, I was itching to write some actual Japanese (the text introduces you to romaji first, or anglicized pronunciations using the Roman alphabet), so I flipped to the back of the book, where they formally introduce the three Japanese character systems. Seriously, one wasn't enough? And depending on context, the same character can have different pronunciations? It is settled: Chinese is the superior language.

Anyway, I continued slogging through the course book until lesson 13 or so, when I was memorizing the Japanese words for "arithmetic" and "February." In a sudden epiphany, I realized that the probability of me needing to talk about geography or parts of my body while in Tokyo was pretty darn low. Where would it be most useful to be literate then? Answer: train stations and restaurants.

A little more research revealed that train stations generally have signs in Japanese and English, so I figured I'd be able to navigate that with a color-coded map. How about reading restaurant menus then? After some Googling, I discovered Satterwhite's What's What in Japanese Restaurants, which exhaustively documents the various types of Japanese restaurants and common menu items, with their pronunciations and descriptions. Bingo, now I was learning much more useful vocabulary, like "bamboo shoots" and "grilled eel in a rice bowl." At this point, I'd learned the hiragana (used to write Japanese) and katakana (used for foreign loan words) alphabets, so I could generally sound out words. Actually, I strongly recommend learning katakana because you'll find that your Japanese vocabulary has suddenly grown by a couple thousand words. Take this random bar menu, for instance. I am going to hazard a guess that ｻﾗﾀﾞ (sarada) indicates salad, ﾁｷﾝ (chikin) suggests chicken, and ｽﾐﾉﾌ (suminofu) under the Vodka section means Smirnoff. I don't remember what learning how to read was like, but the wave of warm, fuzzy glee that I felt upon learning katakana was pretty priceless.

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Then, I stumbled across the "Guide to manga and anime" in the Lonely Planet Tokyo guidebook. And despite my staunch refusal to watch anime and be one of Those anime-obsessed nerds, I started to mull over what a large part of Japanese otaku culture I'd be missing out on. Besides, watching subtitled film would help me learn the language right? So in the name of "education," I started off with a couple classic Miyazaki films, My Neighbor Totoro and Princess Mononoke. If you are unfamiliar with Miyazaki, he is sort of the whimsical Japanese Disney, and his films are primarily targeted towards children, though they incorporate deeper themes of feminism and environmentalism. Next, I watched the Ghost in the Shell movie, which, despite strong recommendations from multiple people, sucked. I whined. "No no, you're watching the wrong one," was the rejoinder. "You're supposed to watch the anime series, not the movie." But that's 9 hours of my life, as opposed to 2, I argued. "Look, if I could pay a dollar for a steaming pile of crap, or $5 for something that I'd actually want, I would pay the $5...Anyway, I think you should watch Death Note; it's only 37 episodes." Hmph.

So, one sunny afternoon, I sat down and watched an episode of Death Note. The basic premise is that a notebook is dropped onto Earth by a Death God, and the finder of the notebook can use it to kill someone by simply writing their name inside. After one episode, I was intrigued enough to hit next and watch another 20 minutes. Then another. And another. And another one after that. Friends called to ask if I wanted to go out for dinner and I mumbled some excuse about needing to work on something else. Then I hit next again. Never before had I felt so helpless against the pull of a TV show. Luckily, this was Columbus Day weekend so I had Monday off, otherwise I might have called in sick in order to finish the entire series.

Bleary-eyed, the next day I announced that the anime wall had come crashing down. The reaction was a mixture of congratulations and smug satisfaction. "Welcome. We've been waiting. So, what are you going to watch next?" Erm. I had to keep going? Ah, what the hell. The next week, I went through Cowboy Bebop (a tech-noir, Western space opera...yeah), then started Escaflowne (girl-in-a-magical-land battles large robots) and Serial Experiments Lain (cyberpunk psychological thriller). I discovered the AnimeNfo search engine. I listened to "Tank!" on repeat. I read the "Laws of Anime" and laughed. Wait, what? What had I become? It had been quite a slippery slope. At least I didn't pick up the habit until after graduation?

Also, this costume (a combination of Ronald McDonald & Ryuk from Death Note) got a helluva lot funnier:

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In the end, I'd say I learned just enough Japanese to really explore Tokyo. You can survive well-enough in the city without knowing any Japanese at all, since there is a good deal of English signage, but you will be limited to activities geared towards Western tourists. Some useful phrases that I found myself using daily included "I am American," "I am Chinese" (when they refused to believe I was American), and "Do you speak English?" (You may not have to explain to people that you are foreign.) I would also memorize sumimasen (pardon me), daijyobu (okay), and arigato gozaimasu (thank you very much). Even if you can't speak a lick though, the Japanese are very, very friendly (unlike the French) and will do their best to help you out.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have the other half of Neon Genesis Evangelion to watch.

Meiji Shrine + Wedding Bonus

On my final Sunday morning in Tokyo at 9 am, I trekked to Meiji Shrine, which enshrines the Emperor Meiji and his consort, Empress Shoken. Like so many other buildings in Tokyo, the original shrine was destroyed in WW2 bombing, but the reconstruction looks every bit as authentic.

To get there, you have to walk through the adjacent park and gardens. This is a beautiful, serene stroll, worlds removed from the bustle of Harajuku (another center of teen fashion in Tokyo). The area is also a fantastic place to hide say, a letterbox...

As I was winding through the park's paths, I suddenly turned a corner to find a bunch of men in Shinto garments processing solemnly through the park. Policemen were clearing the path of people ahead of them, so that they could proceed uninterrupted. I tried to ask someone what was going on, but they didn't speak enough English to be able to explain what was happening.

The procession meandered its way to this pavilion, right outside of the shrine's gates. They began to conduct a ceremony with a lot of stylized bowing and the waving of some kind of tree branch above people's heads. Meanwhile, the rest of the crowd began to purify their hands, using the provided ladles and pool of water.

I went on ahead into the shrine grounds, which had the now-familiar accoutrements of a torii gate, omikuji (fortune slips), and offering tills.

After about 15 minutes or so, the clerics proceeded into the inner courtyard of the shrine...

...and a large drum began to sound. As the clerics entered the shrine, the drum was beat with greater frequency and finally ended with a bit of a roll. The clerics sat down at the front of the shrine, and other shrine staffers scurried about, wearing brightly-colored green, white and orange robes. One of the clerics began to play a flute, and someone else played koto (I think). Shinto ceremonial music is fairly austere; a Bach chorale this is not. Peering into the inner courtyard, I felt like I had been transported centuries away to a wholly foreign, mystical land.

At this point, I turned to leave the shrine when I stumbled across--a wedding! My camera battery died at this point, so I don't have more photos, but the raiments of the wedding party were gorgeous, particularly the bride's dress. It was funny to see everyone wearing the traditional flip-flop-like sandals, since I associate those with going to the beach. You can also see the variety of dress in the rest of the group, from traditional kimonos to western suits to women in black skirts with high boots (of course). The group processed into the shrine, where they disappeared to presumably undergo some sort of ceremony. There was actually a second wedding taking place on the other side of the shrine, but I didn't have the camera juice to photograph it.

After leaving the shrine grounds, I headed right outside to Jingu-Bashi, the so-called epicenter of Harajuku's cosplay scene. On warm, sunny Sundays, this is where cosplaying teens gather to strut their stuff and be photographed. On a good day, you will see an array of goths, punks, French maids, anime characters and Lolitas. At 10 am though, there was not a single cosplayer there. I wasn't sure if my timing was too early, but this post seems to suggest that homework might be taking its toll on the free time of Japanese teens these days? Anyway, here's a taste of what I missed:

Retail Therapy, part 2

The clothing that I picked up in Shibuya only set me back ¥3150, including tax. Now I can start expanding my collection of tights/leggings. (Though it is true that Jenny Z would not be using them.)

Dirt Cheap Hostels in Tokyo

Per popular demand, I'm going to discuss what accommodations were like in Tokyo.

The guidebooks tend to steer you towards traditional hotels, which are rather pricey, even the ones which are marked as "affordable," or to ryokans, or traditional Japanese inns, which are also pricey though they usually include meals and a chance to sleep on tatami mats and futons. Personally, my goal is to minimize lodging costs as much as possible subject to getting some sleep and not getting bedbugs. In Tokyo, there are capsule hotels, which consist of a closed capsules only slightly larger than the Seinfeld dresser drawers, stacked on top of one another. While this is truly a one-of-a-kind Tokyo experience, they are geared towards businessmen and many don't accept women, or relegate you to the top floor. Plus, they aren't that cheap for what you get. So, I decided to bypass this option.

With some googling, you will find there are many hostels for backpackers and young travelers located in Asakusa. While this area does have attractions worthy of your time, Asakusa is located in the far northeast corner of the city, and it will take some time to get from one end to the other.

Instead, I chose to stay at the Sakura Hotel, located in central-east Tokyo near the Jinbocho station, and at the Ace Inn, located in central-west Tokyo near the Akenobashi and Yotsuya Sanchome stations. Both have English language websites and seemed like promising places to park my bags.

The Sakura Hotel offers single rooms (¥6,000), doubles (¥8,000) and triples, but they also have 6-person dorm rooms in the basement level for ¥3150 if you make your own bed, which is what I chose to do. The room, bathroom and premises were quite clean, and the blanket was this lovely, fluffy comforter that I wanted to curl up inside and never emerge from. You could rent a towel for ¥100, the wifi was free and very fast, and several computers in the lobby were available for (I think) ¥100 for 15 minutes use. For ¥315, you could get breakfast in the morning (unlimited coffee, tea and toast) but I picked up food elsewhere. The other lodgers were very friendly and tended to be in college age or in their 20s. It was very easy to meet people and find dinner mates. The front desk staff were very friendly, spoke English, and supplied me with a 3 prong converter for my laptop while I was there.

The Ace Inn offers capsule-like beds for around ¥4,000, but if you choose the 12-person mixed dorm, you will get a bed for ¥2,000 on their 10th floor which is a regular dormitory. This is simply a room with 12 beds in it, including two futons in an adjoining tatami room. The beds are not bunked, which gives you a little more space away from your dorm mates. Everyone was courteous and friendly, however since there are on average 8 people sleeping in the room every night, there is a fair amount of noise as people enter and leave. Hopefully, unlike me, you are not a light sleeper. There is a lounge on the 9th floor with a TV, and it is very easy to meet gregarious Australians there. Bicycles are available for rent for ¥500, and you will have a better selection the earlier you arrive. Wifi is free and there are computers in the lobby that you can use for free for 30 minutes. The hostel also sponsors tours to museums or other attractions for ¥500. My biggest complaint here is that the toilets were not very clean, and were often out of soap or toilet paper. The showers downstairs are ¥100 for 10 minutes and these seemed clean enough. There is free soap, shampoo, and towels. There is a lock-out period from 2-4:30 am, but if you tell them ahead of time that you are going out they'll let you in during that period.

Both hostels were located in semi-residential neighborhoods with not a lot going on after 9 pm. Then again, aside from Shibuya and Roppongi, not a lot is going on anywhere in Tokyo after 9 pm. Sakura Hotel was very close to 3 train lines, whereas the Ace Inn was close to the Shinjuku train line, which is run by the Toei company. Since I often used the all-day Metro pass (¥700) for transportation, this meant I had to walk 5-10 min to the Yotsuya Sanchome station, which is run by the Metro company. Not a big deal, but slightly more inconvenient than the Sakura Hotel location.

Neither place offered lockers in their dorms, though you could store luggage behind the front desk. I decided to have some faith in humanity and leave everything unlocked under my bed, including my laptop. Nothing was stolen. I love Japan.

Soba Noodle Class

Somewhere along the way, I stumbled across the Tsukiji Soba Academy, which offers classes on how to make soba noodles from scratch. These range in difficulty from one time weekend workshops for novices to a series of classes designed for professionals. I emailed to sign up for a 3-hour workshop for novices, and soba master Akila Inouye wrote me back with the date and time.

Sensei Akila turned out to be a jovial fellow and a wonderfully patient teacher. He first jotted down the basic steps for making soba noodles. As it turns out, soba noodles are made by simply mixing 80% buckwheat flour and 20% regular wheat flour, then adding 40% of the flour's weight in water. So, you would mix .8 kg buckwheat flour, .2 kg wheat flour and 400 ml of water together for your dough. "How many servings does this make?" someone asked. "Ten Tokyo servings...which would be two American servings," Akila joked.

Notice that the final product is 1.3 mm wide and 1.5 mm tall, so the soba noodles are actually not square on the vertical slice.

Next, you knead the dough for a few minutes, then shape it into a light bulb, then a cone, to bunch the creases on one end. With a few deft gestures, Akila pressed the dough into a round disk, and all the folds had been smoothed out.

The next two steps are "very easy," and involve rolling out the dough and then slicing it into noodles. Take a rolling pin and press the dough evenly and uniformly from 15 mm thick to 1.5 mm thick. There are plastic disks of varying heights to show you when you have flattened the dough to an appropriate amount. After you flatten the dough to 8 mm, you stretch it into a rectangular shape, which eliminates wasted dough, then gently flatten to 1.5 mm thin. Easy, right?

Finally, you dust the dough with uchiko, a starch powder that prevents the dough from sticking, and fold it into thirds. With your fingers gently pressed on a soba cutting board, slice the dough and keep the blade perpendicular to the table. After each slice, tilt the knife the the left slightly, which slides the top cutting board 1.3 mm over. Then, slice the next batch of noodles. In just a couple minutes, Akila had cut his dough into beautiful, uniform soba noodles.

Now it was time for us to try our hand at making soba noodles. I mixed my flour and water, then kneaded and patted it into a disk. The rolling proved to be a lot harder than it looked. After a few missteps, my dough had torn in one corner, and it was no longer uniformly square. Alas. Like a good sauce though, cutting the noodles hides a lot of mistakes. "How long should we boil these for?" someone asked. "If you have thin noodles of the right size, it should be 3 1/2 minutes. Otherwise, cook them for 4 minutes." Akila replied. "What about these?" I asked. Akila inspected them carefully. "Hmm, 4 minutes!" Oops.

Here I am with my finished tray of soba noodles. I ended up taking home two extra boxes from the two French students in the class because they didn't have any place to store or cook them. Unfortunately, after putting them in the hostel frig, I dashed off to the airport the next day and completely forgot to tote them home with me. :(

For one final lesson, we were taught how to properly slurp our noodles. Forget what your mother said about not making noises while chewing or eating; the Japanese show their appreciation of noodles by slurping them noisily. To eat soba noodles, you first taste the noodles by themselves and appreciate the texture and taste of the buckwheat by itself. Next, drop 2-3 noodles into the soba dipping sauce in the cup. Slurp them up noisily, and keep the noodles contained between your chopsticks to minimize flicking sauce into your face. Next, eat a little bit of the onion with the noodles. After you finish the noodles, fill the soba sauce cup with the leftover boiling water. This creates a thick, creamy mixture that is a perfect finish for your meal.

"Thanks for coming!" said Akila. "Don't forget to friend me on Facebook!"

Needless to say, that is the first thing I did when I got home.

Bukkake Udon

Get your mind out of the gutter, you silly Americans. In Japanese, "bukkake" simply means "pouring," as in the soup is poured over the udon as opposed to noodles being dipped in.

Lonely Planet suggests Sakata (さか田) as the one restaurant you should go to if you visit Tokyo and eat one meal, so I dutifully ventured there. Unfortunately, it was gone. After some googling, I figured out that the restaurant had moved .5 km west, so I stopped by for lunch on a second attempt. The menu is entirely in Japanese, so you need to know some hiragana to figure it out. My server did speak a little English, so they might be able to help you order.

Sakata's specialty is udon, particularly bukkake udon. Above is the lunch set (¥1000) that I ordered, with a bowl of warm udon (you can get it cold), topped with grated radish, green onions, sesame seeds and a dollop of ginger. The noodles were fat and silky smooth, in a simple broth designed to showcase the udon. This came with tempura (jumbo shrimp, green pepper, eggplant) over a little rice. Freshly fried, with a crisp, thin coating, this tempura is miles above popcorn shrimp. Accompanying all this is the obligatory small dish of pickled vegetables, some fermented beans, and a mini salad.

Sakata (さか田)

3rd Floor, Dai 2 Hibiya Building

1-6-1 Yurakucho, Chiyoda-ku Tokyo

Metro: Chiyoda, exit A4, head around the corner in a counterclockwise fashion

Entrees start at ¥700, cash only

Tsukiji Fish Market

Tsukiji Fish Market is the world's most famous seafood wholesale venue. About ¥2 billion worth of seafood is sold here daily. If it lives in the sea, chances are it is sold here. From Tsukiji, wholesalers distribute goods to restaurants in Japan and the rest of the world. At one point in your life, your sushi probably passed through this market on the way to your plate.

The market itself is a series of concentric horseshoe shaped stalls and warehouses, and the atmosphere is chaotic, to say the least. You need to be hyper-aware of your surroundings, since people are constantly trying to move around you, lifting heavy boxes nearby, and the fishmongers drive surprisingly agile motorized carts, which whip around corners unexpectedly. If you aren't careful, you will get in the way/get hit. The market is also rather wet, so you should not wear your best dress shoes.

The market's most notorious event is the morning tuna auction, which takes place from 5-6:30 am each day. For a while, visitors were banned from viewing the auction due to its popularity; the crowd of rubberneckers was becoming too much of a distraction for people trying to conduct business. Now, it is possible to watch the tuna auctions from a cordoned off area, and you can take photos without flash.

I woke up a little later than I wanted, and made it to a train station at 5:15, not accounting that the trains would be running less frequently in the morning. It was 6 am by the time I arrived at the Hibiya Tsukiji stop, and I started running down the street towards the market. After a frantic search, I found the tuna auction in the back of the horseshoe, with a door marked "Vistors Entrance." It was 6:10 am, and they stop admitting people at 6:15. Phew!

Inside, you could see hulking frozen tuna lying on the floor, with pieces sliced from the ends so that buyers could inspect the quality of the meat inside. On another table, you could inspect tuna steaks, touch them, and warm them a little with your hand, before putting in bids.

A bell clanged and the auctioneer moved toward a tuna. These bluefin tuna weigh several hundred pounds and can fetch up to $20 million apiece. I couldn't follow what the auctioneer was actually saying, though he held up fingers to indicate the current asking price. After the tuna are sold, they are packaged and shipped off around the world again. There is also a fresh tuna room, with tuna that are caught in the previous few days. The frozen ones could have been caught anywhere in the Atlantic or the Pacific, before being frozen and flown here for sale.

Outside of the tuna auctions, you could buy every seafood product imaginable, dead or alive. There were buckets of writhing eels, beautiful iridescent shrimp, freshly gutted fish, piles of oysters and even a few turtles. (This is where you can get upset about the devastation of the ocean's seafood stocks and Japan's lack of environmental policing.) Men sliced apart hunks of tuna with hacksaws. Forklifts and trolleys sped through the warehouse.

Traditionally, a visit to Tsukiji is followed by a trip to a nearby sushi restaurant. Just north of the inner market is a series of stalls with slightly less chaotic shops and restaurants. Tipped off by Lonely Planet, I headed to Daiwa Sushi (building #6), where a mass of people was crowded in front. Disorganized though it appeared, the crowd was actually an orderly mass of people, snaking towards the front. I was directed to the end by an employee, who urged us to stay clear of the central path so that the carts could get by. It was 7 am.

After about 45 minutes of waiting, I was starving and had only moved 50% of the way to the door. Suddenly, the hostess leaned out of the door and shouted something, holding up one finger. The crowd jostled and looked around. Wait, one person? I said. Me, me! I leapfrogged in front of at least 15 people to be seated.

Daiwa Sushi is actually two adjacent shops, one run by the father and the other by the son. I happened to be in the one run by the elder chef, who was quite friendly as he showed me a picture menu with English translations. The easiest thing to do though is to order the set sushi meal (¥3500). Everyone else around me seemed to be doing the same. This comes with 7 pieces of nigiri, 1 set of maki rolls, and a bowl of miso soup. As the pieces were made, the chef would set them down in front of you on your plate. I ended up with a piece of squid, shrimp, maguro, sea urchin, tamago omelet, horse mackerel, eel, and tuna and roe maki.

Not surprisingly, everything was top-notch and extremely fresh. I even got a piece of the shrimp head with the shrimp nigiri. Earlier, someone had mentioned that they didn't like the sea urchin, and I have to say that this was the most challenging piece. The texture of sea urchin is too soft and squishy for most American palates, but I actually enjoyed it once I got over the unexpected texture.

I don't think I can ever eat another Philadelphia roll.

Shiseido Gallery: RMB City

(Somewhere around here, I noticed that my camera battery level was dipping precipitously low. Since I forgot to bring my charger, dy/dx(pictures taken)<0.)

Shiseido is a major Japanese cosmetics and hair care corporation, but they also run an experimental art gallery in Ginza that features installation pieces. I popped in to take a look and ended up watching a video on RMB City, a virtual city created by Cao Fei in Second Life.

Judging from the anime I've watched, I'd say the Japanese are big on wrestling with the boundary between the virtual and physical worlds, so this film will probably go over well with Tokyo audiences. It featured a female avatar named China Tracy and her son, China Sun, who travel to RMB City, where they explore the virtual world in Second Life. They meet a host of people, like Mr. Reality and Feng Shui Master Q. It was entertaining and thought provoking in that almost-too-cheesy-to-be-deep kind of way. Or maybe the English subtitles could have been better.

Some of the more amusing quotes from the film:

Mayor: Like a five-star hotel, I am here to serve you, to meet any of your needs.

China Sun: Can you change my diaper, or nurse me?

Mayor: My little citizen, yes of course, but I must discuss this with the programmer first.

Man on street: I am writing a novel. Some people say that Second Life is a novel, or maybe a novel is writing me.

China Sun: What is life in here?

China Tracy: Life in here is a reflection of what you see and who you are.

China Sun: I have the urge to poop.

China Tracy: I hope that is not in your programming.

Yokohama: Ports, Pandas and Ramen

Yokohama is Japan's second largest city and a major port hub situated on the Tokyo Bay. I got my first close-up look (excluding the plane ride) at the western side of the Pacific here.

The city also boasts Landmark Tower, which at 296 m (971 ft) is Japan's tallest building. It also includes the world's fastest elevator at 750 m (2,500 ft) per minute.

Really though, I was mostly interested in investigating their Chinatown, which is the largest concentration of Chinese in Japan, with about 2,500 inhabitants. The neighborhood is ringed by a series of pagoda-topped gates. Ah, feels like home.

I have been to quite a few Chinatowns, but this one is characterized by the popularity of mooncakes and steamed buns (bao). While these are also sold in other Chinatowns, there aren't generally whole shops devoted to all sorts of mooncakes, momo (peach) cakes and buns.

Of course, this being Japan, we had to come up with a way to make bao cute. Enter the Panda bun.
The centerpiece of Yokohama's Chinatown is Kantei-byo Temple, built in 1887.

Oh, one more thing that is very prevalent here: pandas. There were entire shops dedicated to selling panda paraphernalia, from socks to umbrellas to backpacks, with hordes of Japanese schoolgirls ogling and shrieking in excitement. Are the Chinese catering to Japanese tastes, or do the Japanese really think China = Panda? Then again, Cadie did determine that everyone <3>

This is a panda hat on a plastic Obama model, thus combining two of Japan's great loves into one.

Afterwards, I headed to the Shin Yokohama Ramen Museum. Yes, Japan's museum ecosystem is so broad and diverse, it can sustain a museum on ramen. Upstairs, there were displays (unfortunately all in Japanese) about the invention and history of ramen. Apparently, there are 12 types of ramen noodles.

In case you are wondering, ramen in Japan has very little to do with American ramen that comes in packets of 6 for a dollar. Here, ramen is a noodle soup that is accented with slices of pork, fish balls, seaweed or other additions. There are tons of restaurants dedicated to serving only ramen; in fact, I think this may be the most popular type of restaurant I've seen in Tokyo.

Downstairs is a ramen restaurant mall, where you can try 9 styles of ramen from different areas of Japan. The decor is modeled after Tokyo in the year Showa 33 (1958), which was the year that instant ramen was invented. As it turns out, the replication looked almost exactly like Kawagoe from the day before, complete with loaves of fu for sale.

Ramen was ordered via vending machines (of course), and you could get full size portions for ¥700-900 and mini (ミニ) half-size portions for ¥500-600.

Ramen bowl #1: category / tonkotsu, basic seasoning / salt, ingredients / pork, kikurage (wood ear), bean sprouts, menma (fermented bamboo shoots) and green onion

Ramen bowl #2: category / miso, basic seasoning / soybean paste, ingredients, pork, fish cake slice, menma, green onions, red pepper paste