I've told a lot of friends that Tokyo has replaced Paris as my favorite city to visit. Maybe I'm thinking that because it's new in my memory, but it really is a great city, and I'm glad I readjusted my return trip to spend a few more days there on the way back.
And here's what separates the two cities and their cultures I think: Paris (and France) has an incredibly rich culture and way of life, and they're proud of it. And when someone comes to Paris, you're expected by join it: you can be German, Algerian or Vietnamese before you come to France, but once you're there, you are French, first and foremost. We will include you, no question, but now you're French.
And Tokyo and Japan have an incredibly rich culture and way of life, too. But when you come there, you add to it, but don't necessarily become part of it. Their way of life is their way of life; it's easy to enjoy on the surface, but hard to crack. They'll gladly add your culture's contributions on the outside and absorb it if they want, but good luck being invited to the club. There were far more foreign restaurants and chains in Tokyo, and it doesn't bother them. It's just another choice for them, and doesn't challenge their own culture.
And now, a few thoughts/moments on Tokyo.
1) On the bus ride to the ski resort hosting Fuji Rock, I was talking with the woman next to me. Here English was limited, but we made conversation easily enough. (I think she still was surprised to see a solo gweilo going to the fest). She wasn't that long out of college, and was working in an office, doing accounting, which she studied. When I asked her if she liked it, she only offered in a sad, quiet voice, "No" while glancing downwards. When I asked her if she could change offices and get another job, she repeated her same heart-wrenching answer. Job stability has a lot going for it, but I would never want to be in her shoes: in your early 20s, realizing you really don't like what you went to college for, and stuck in that field - and that workplace - until you quit for family reasons or until you retire.
2) Japan, or Tokyo at least, has replaced Croatia as my land of the most beautiful people on earth. They all care about their appearance, they're funky, and the women have curves, unlike the most of the rest of Asia. And yes, the kids there do dress as funky as you've read about.
3) It's the little things that matter. On the Fuji Rock site, it recommended you bring portable ashtrays if you planned to smoke. I had no idea what that was, so when I sneaked in a few puffs between bands, I just flicked the ashes on the ground, but kept the butt itself to throw in a garbage bin. But on my return trip to Japan, I saw someone at a beer tasting I attended holding a small aluminum-lined plastic pouch. I asked what it was, and he told me a portable ashtray. You just flick your ashes in there and ziplock it shut when you're done. Is there anything this country doesn't think of? No wonder it's so clean.
4) On my return trip, I did less pure tourism than I thought or hoped I would. My translator host took me to said beer tasting on my second - and last - full day there, to a town about 1.5 hours west of Tokyo. It was five hours of sitting outside a concrete-block building, drinking wonderfully tasty beers and taking in the sun as I talked with the locals and two Brits who worked for Nissan. It was talking with the Weisse beer King of Japan, and how he fell in love with the beer while studying in Munich in 2001. It was not being able to speak Japanese with someone, but trusting them as they handed you mystery charcoal-grilled food on a stick and loving it. Sure, I could have seen a museum or two. But I think five years from now, I'll remember sitting in that hot sun and just shooting the shit with the weisse king a lot more vividly than I would have some ancient exhibit. And while most Japanese are reserved, their microbrew fans aren't. They love their beer - for good reason - and open up as much as anyone after three or four glasses. If you want to get to know the locals, my recommendation is to share a pint or three with them. Because you never know when they'll drag you to a bar where you'll end up talking and flirting with a Japanese opera singer at 2 int he morning, even though you speak no Japanese and she can't speak English, only Latin.
5) I think I love Japan because it is so strangely funky. A coworker occasionally responds that I have no off button, and I just say what I think, regardless of PC consequences. It's true, I am flaky. But Japan is too, in a wonderful way. It's a society of conformity and fitting in with the group. But that doesn't mean there's only one group; there's a ton of them, many of them strange and enchanting, and you just have to learn to fall in with them. Such as beer freaks.
6) I am convinced there are only two jobs for men in Japan. 1) Engineer and 2) Bar/Restaurant worker. Every guy I met there - local or westerner - was an engineer of some type, but it software, hardware, mechanical or automobile.
I recommend seeing part of Tokyo through a glass or five at Popeye's, the best beer bar in the city. Their owner, above, knows how to take care of you, even if you don't speak Japanese.
Speaking of beer, who wouldn't buy beer from a vendor like this at a Tokyo Giants game? Not me.
Not only does Japan have the best soft drinks on earth, they have the best vending machines and the best corporate slogans, on every corner.
It's not just the record store next to my apartment in Shinjuku that still loves 80s and 90s hair metal. The waiter/doorman at Ushitora, a great beer bar in Tokyo, was unabashed in his love for Poison. And a statistics professor I was talking with at said bar was unabashed in his love for Joe Satriani.
