Japan is full of interesting architecture, with beautiful temples, shrines, and palaces. I was very glad to see some of the traditional Japanese tourist sites, but also excited to spend some time among actual Japanese people. It was an interesting dichotomy to compare Japanese life then and now.

The Shogun castle we visited was huge. The castle itself is surrounded by two moats, between which there are beautiful gardens. It covers lots of space, but the castle doesn’t hold a lot. The whole building is full of empty rooms separated by paintings and sliding doors. One interesting feature of the castle was the squeaking floors. The floorboards are intentionally designed to be loud when someone walks on them so that no one could sneak up on the shogun.

The Edo museum is about the history of Tokyo. This is a fantastic museum. There are free guides to take you around the museum, which is interesting. I was enthralled by the models. For all the important buildings of the old city, there is a huge detailed model, complete with hundreds of tiny unique people. I could spend hours admiring the models. Some of the models even had binoculars nearby so viewers could study it in detail. They were that big. I missed most of the guided tour while I was gazing at the models, but based on the parts I did hear, I have one question. How many times did Tokyo have to burn down before they decided not to build with paper?

Now the transition to modern Japan. I was delighted to discover that there are people in Japan who make a living selling fake food. There are entire stores dedicated to selling plastic Japanese cuisine. I guess the idea is that restaurants want to demonstrate the menu without the food going bad. Then, to take things a step further, you can get fake food items that serve a greater purpose. For example, a piece of sushi that has a flash drive inside. I regret not buying one, but then again, how professional would it be when your boss asks for your presentation and you hand him rubber sushi to plug into his computer?

Another phenomenon here is cute cartoon characters. They love Hello Kitty, Snoopy, and Disney characters. There are entire stores dedicated to such merchandise. We went to one store where each of the five floors was themed with a different character. We tried to have our guides explain these obsessions, but the cultural divide on this topic seems to be so great that we never really understood their explanations.

Not sure what section to put restrooms in, but I suppose it’s a place. My story of Japan would be incomplete with a quick description of the toilets. In Japan, fixing a toilet would probably require more than just a plumber. It would call for an entire team. Toilet seats are heated, for one. They sense when someone sits, and turn on. They also have a small control panel on the side. There are many features, but one stands out. With the push of a button, someone can activate a flush sound without actually flushing the toilet. This allows the toilet user to mask any embarrassing sounds in public places. What a brilliant invention.

The Tokyo Fish market was a sight that I will never forget. We woke up at 5:30 and took a taxi to an enormous warehouse. As we walked in, we passed endless rows of squirming sea creatures as far as the eye could see. There were animals I have never seen before, as well as some familiar ones. Little vehicles zipped through the skinny aisles with precision. And at the far end of the warehouse was the infamous tuna auction. On the floor were hundreds of huge whole frozen tuna. People inspected the fish with little hooks. They poked at it and held it up to the light. Then, based on some unknown set of criteria, they bid on it to a live auctioneer. After exploring the market, we grabbed some sushi for breakfast nearby and marveled at how much seafood passed through that market each day.

One last anecdote. There is a supposedly famous statue of a terrier in Japan somewhere that we visited. Story goes, the dog walked his owner to the subway every way, and was waiting for him every day when he returned from work. One day, the man died, but the dog came back every day to wait for his master. So they erected a statue at the subway stop. Cute story, right?

Well my South African friend recently showed me pictures from his home, one of which was a leopard statue. He told me the story of a man from the town who used to take his pet leopard to the beach with him every day while he swam. One day, the man drowned, but the leopard patiently waited for his master to return. So they erected a statue at the beach. So, is this a common story? Does every town have a brass animal waiting for its dead master? Makes me wonder if it is a fable, or a coincidence.

Maybe it’s a good thing that I am not very adventurous when it comes to exotic foods, because otherwise this post would be endless. Japan is full of weird food. Things that aren’t actually food, but that they insist on eating. But for every gross fermented bean sushi roll, there is something delicious to balance. For my sake, I will stick to describing the good memories.

The first dinner was one of my favorites: shabu shabu. Margie makes the Chinese equivalent sometimes, so I was familiar with the process. Basically, the table has a big pot of boiling broth, and they just bring out a platter of raw meat and vegetables. That might sound simple, but when no one at the restaurant speaks English, it is hard to order, even at a restaurant with one thing on the menu. Anyways, I guess it is the same idea as fondue. I love it because it forces you to eat slowly and I think it is delicious.

We fell into a tourist trap when we had dinner at the restaurant where the Kill Bill bloodbath was filmed. Not the biggest fan of the food, but they had some delicious dry ginger ale. Our waiter was Cuban and spoke perfect English, which would have been great if I was at a Cuban restaurant in Florida. Oh well.

I had “DeNiro’s Favorite” at Nobu: black cod with miso. I saw some people order it at other restaurants, and it always looked good. I also had a wasabi cocktail, which turned out to be really tasty and interesting. Dessert was unreal. Chocolate souffle is pretty common, but this was the best I have ever eaten. I wish I knew what was different about it, but it looked about the same as the one I made on Valentine’s Day. Instead of a ramekin, it came in a bento box, but it had vanilla ice cream and raspberries on top, just like mine. Maybe if I make it in a bento box instead, it will magically become delicious next time.

For one meal, we went to a tempura restaurant. This was another do-it-yourself place, but instead of a pot of broth, they bring a pot of hot oil. First, you dip your meat or vegetable skewer into some batter, then fry it. I didn’t really care for it, but it was fun. Well, it was fun until I got splattered in the face with hot oil. That put a damper on the meal.

The Japanese give a whole new meaning to food courts. Underneath all of the major department stores, there is a whole bustling civilization of food vendors and buyers. But here’s the crazy thing: none of them are eating! They are surrounded by delicious food, but there are no tables anywhere. Apparently it is frowned upon to eat in public in Japan. It was so awkward to be the lone eater in a sea of people so disciplined that they could wait to bring their food home to eat it. I felt like such a glutton.

Alana and I were on an ongoing quest for mochi on the trip. When I think of mochi, I think of the balls of ice cream wrapped in mochi that you can get at Trader Joe’s. In Japan, the mochi selection is much wider than flavors of ice cream. The favorite mochi pairing seems to be red bean paste, which caught me off guard, but eventually grew on me. I still prefer the ice cream filling, but it was fun to really dig deep to the roots of my mochi love.

The family took a cooking class together in Kyoto that was a lot of fun. We made sesame spinach salad, tempura, sushi, and miso soup. They are all very simple to assemble, but the preparation is laborious! Making sushi rice, for example, takes effort. Susan wanted to know if you can just use Uncle Ben’s, and the answer, if you are also wondering, is no. For some reason, even the miso soup in Japan is better than at Japanese restaurants in America. So now I can make a full Japanese meal, but honestly I think I would elect to go out rather than go through that whole process again.

Another night, we went to a Korean BBQ restaurant where you grill your own meat. The more I think about it, I am beginning to realize that we did most of our own cooking while we were in Japan, even thought we weren’t aware of it at the time. No wonder you’re not supposed to tip.

Some of our meals had a fixed menu. Those were pretty amusing, because we couldn’t read the menu. None of us had any concept of how much food was on the way. Five courses into the meal, as we are packing up to leave, and they suddenly bring in another dish. Try to leave again, and the next course comes. What’s worse, Japanese waiters don’t bring the check before you ask for it, so you really never know when the meal is over.

Save the best for last. A stone’s throw from the Tokyo fish market is a row of tiny hole-in-the-wall sushi bars. They are barely wide enough for the chefs, customers, and a skinny waitress to scoot by. But this is the most fresh and delicious sushi you can possibly imagine. I am finally convinced that the Japanese know how to make sushi. Peter had the opportunity to sit next to some businessmen who were on their way to work (remember this is at 6 in the morning) and took him under their wing. They trained him in the ways of the Samurai. First, they bought him a Samurai roll, which looked spicy. Then he polished it off by throwing back a nice morning sake. Best way to start the day!

Final notes: the McDonald’s Teriyaki McBurger is just a normal hamburger soaked in teriyaki sauce and covered in mayonnaise. Sushi on a conveyor belt is about what you would expect. Fried dumplings are better than steamed, and also easier to pick up with chopsticks.

I love Japanese people. This is such a fun and interesting society to visit because of the people. There are aspects of the Japanese that I really admire, as well as some aspects that make me laugh, but in the end this is a culture that I respect very much. I am no anthropologist, but here are a few observations that stand out to me.

I always thought that holding up a peace sign was limited to Japanese tourists, but I have learned that this phenomenon is not limited to the tourists. Every Japanese person takes pictures with a peace sign like a caricature of a Japanese tourist. The peace sign is usually accompanied by a huge smile, but some of the Harajuku girls spiced it up with attitude.

No matter where people work, they wear a uniform. The ladies who clean the bullet train wear bright pink maid outfits. The gardeners wear green jumpsuits. The bellboys wear black zoot suits. We found a great workwear store on one of our walks, and it was amazing. They had jumpsuits in every color. I had to keep reminding myself that I already own two, and that is two more than I need.

Peter bought some really cool tabi shoes at this workwear store, which was a fun experience. We saw them in the window walking by, and Peter had been looking for a pair, so we strolled in. The lady working behind the counter was a little surprised to see a family of Americans in her store, but she greeted us and helped Peter choose the right pair of shoes.

Then, before we left, the owner of the store came out from the back and offered us each business cards. Then he took out a camera, and pointed up at the wall where he had posted pictures of all the tourists who had come to his store over the years. We soon realized that he intended to take a picture of all of us to add to the wall. What a treat! The tourists were the subjects! So next time you are in a Japanese workwear store, keep your eyes peeled for our photo.

I have seen a handful of geisha in Kyoto. I get really excited when I see them for some reason. I wish I could afford to pay one to hang out with me. Actually we did have the opportunity to see a maiko dance, which is like a geisha apprentice. Her performance was very pretty, and I love the whole outfit and makeup. I heard that kimonos are making a little comeback in Kyoto. I think they were becoming increasingly unpopular because they are uncomfortable, expensive, and complicated to wear. But we have been seeing some younger people wearing them out more.

One thing I would love for the United States to reform is gratuity. A tip should be used to acknowledge exceptional service. Americans, however, expect a tip. Americans are insulted if they aren’t given a tip, no matter the quality or quantity of service. In Japan, there is no gratuity. Workers are paid full wages, and customers pay what they are charged.

Of course, this is not transferrable to the United States because our cultures are incentivized very differently. The universal American incentive is money. Not so in Japan. Japanese service is actually better than American service, despite lacking an explicit incentive system. So it would seem that our system is a necessary evil just so that we have something we can use to punish bad service. Sigh…

The Japanese also apologize frequently and profusely. “So sorry, but your drinks will be out shortly.” Sometimes, the apology doesn’t even make sense. “Sorry, would you like a menu?” And often times, they seem to have unreasonably high expectations of themselves, such as apologizing for not knowing directions to an obscure destination. For so many people that I have spoken to, they behave as though they are placing a great burden upon me to interact with them. Sometimes I want to apologize to them for putting them through this torment, but I have to be wary of a “who is more sorry” contest erupting.

Lastly, I have been so impressed with how many jobs there are in Japan. You name a task, and somebody has that job. There is a quiet apartment building we visited that has two ladies sitting next to the door. That’s their job. At the food court, there are more people working than there are customers at any given time. When a waitress kneels down to deliver food to the table, there is another waitress who comes to kneel behind her for that brief moment. Every subway station has dozens of employees on duty. Even the smallest shrines have someone out front to remind you to take off your shoes.

It is apparent that there is so much that is fundamentally different between our cultures. I hate to admit that I would never fit in with such an orderly, efficient, honorable society. I guess this sentimental moment is a bad time to bring up the nurse-themed strip club we passed yesterday?

Getting around Japan has been a cultural experience. We spend most of the days walking, and we have been very lucky to have beautiful weather all week. The major complication with transportation by foot is knowing where to go, and we never really perfected the art. A map is only useful if you can read street names or you know the landmarks, neither of which apply to us. Tokyo was crowded and a little overwhelming, but Kyoto is great for walking, so I don’t mind getting lost.

Japan is very clean, and the subway is no exception. This is particularly impressive considering the staggering flow of people through the Tokyo subway system. We needed instructions for using the ticket machines and maps early on, but now we are mostly independent. My biggest blunder happened in Tokyo when we were trying to navigate back to the hotel. Our guide explained that we needed to get on the green line and transfer to the yellow line.

We bought our tickets, hopped on a green train, transferred to the yellow train, and couldn’t find our stop on the map. Then I noticed that, in addition to the lime green train, there is a turquoise train on the map. And then I recalled that the guide had described our orange train as yellow earlier in the day. So I was supposed to take the turquoise train to the orange train, and we were stuck on the yellow train. The Japanese language must treat color shades differently than we do, because I could have used some more specificity.

The most memorable quality of the subway was the schedule. Trains arrive every four minutes, each within 30 seconds of their scheduled time. And the drivers mean business when it comes to staying on schedule. There is no mercy for passengers who get pinched in the door or don’t fit. During peak hours, I saw people get running starts to pack into the car and escape the jaws of the metal door.

The bullet train also follows a rigid schedule. I loved that ride. We were zooming at 130 mph through Japan, and barely felt a rumble. If you weren’t looking out the window at the passing blur, you might not know you were moving at all. And sure enough, after several hours, we pulled into the station within a minute of the expected arrival time.

Taking a taxi is never something I look forward to at home. In Japan, they do things a little differently. To begin with, the drivers wear a suit and tie with white gloves. He is like your personal butler for the ride. In a Japanese taxi, you don’t open or close the door. The driver can do that from his seat. I can’t say this is common, but one driver fed us candy when we were stuck in traffic. The same driver rounded down our fare.

This is worth repeating on its own line. Our cab driver rounded down our fare from 2080 to 2000 yen so it would be more convenient to pay.

One night, we got into a cab and gave the driver a piece of paper with the name of a restaurant on it. Half of our group was in the cab ahead of us, and they pulled away as we were getting in. The driver mumbled some Japanese while reading the paper, and when it became evident that he was not familiar with the restaurant, my dad pointed at the other cab and yelled “follow them!”

So, the driver drove. In retrospect, we had no reason to believe he had understood what my dad said. I suppose if a Japanese family hopped into my cab and stated yelling at me I might drive too. After driving for some time, the driver stopped and took the paper out again. We finally convinced him to call the restaurant for directions. When he got off the phone, he drove half a block and opened the door on a dimly lit street corner.

Well, we all thought he was bailing on us for yelling at him. Turns out we were a block from the restaurant all along, and it happened to be located in a dimly lit alley. I guess the moral of the story is to always trust a Japanese cab driver, even if he takes you to a dimly lit alley after driving aimlessly around town.

When we first landed in Japan, we had a quarantine welcoming committee. We were all instructed to remain seated while two men in masks and goggles came on board and walked through the aisles. Later, in the immigration line, they had infrared cameras fixed on the passengers checking their temperature. If anyone was too hot, they would be quarantined. It is interesting the measures that Japan is taking to prevent the introduction of swine flu.

On the plane ride home, as we were within sight of the runway to land, many of the passengers on the right side of the plane noticed that another airplane was flying very close to us. At first it was just an observation, but it soon became a concern, as the two planes got closer and closer. Suddenly, we felt our behemoth 747 surge forward and upward as the runway got smaller below us.

The pilot came on the speaker to notify us that nothing was wrong, only that our huge airplane was creating turbulent wind that was difficult for the smaller plane to land in. That’s when I knew I was home. The Japanese would never abort a landing attempt. It would be so inefficient to suffer the consequences in the schedule. Then again, who plans for a giant airplane to land adjacent to and upwind from a smaller one? America! And damned if anyone will tell us otherwise!

I think my favorite cultural difference in Japan has to be the bowing. People here bow to anyone and anything, all the time. I find myself bowing periodically, and I hope the habit sticks.

The first bow I witnessed was at the airport when a bus pulled up to the sidewalk. Some luggage handlers who had been working nearby dropped what they were doing to meet the bus at the sidewalk, and bow. They went back to work putting tags on bags and loading them onto carts. Then as the bus door closed, they scurried back to bow as the bus departed.

The most common bow see is when a hotel employee greets me as we pass. It is like a simple head nod, but it differs from the American nod in that the employee stops to face me. The other common bow is between two Japanese friends. Each bows once, a little bit deeper than a nod, and then moves on. These are simple and respectful ways to greet one another.

On the bullet train from Tokyo to Kyoto, there were snack carts and conductors who walked through the aisle every few minutes. Every time they entered the car, they bowed. Every time they exited the car, they turned around and bowed again. I loved the ambiguity of the bow. Were they paying their respects to the passengers, or maybe to the train itself? Either way, they always bowed with such purpose. I don’t know what the purpose was, but it was evident that they did.

The bow is such a civilized greeting when used in moderation, but it gets downright silly when used in excess. I once witnessed a bow chain reaction. These are disastrous and hilarious. An older Japanese woman in a kimono was crossing the street in Gion. Let’s call her A. Three younger women, B C and D, were crossing in the opposite direction. Here’s the thing. When someone bows to you, you are supposed to bow back. But when there are more than two people, it becomes difficult to determine who is the recipient of a bow.

So, B bows to A. A responds by bowing to B. But C is standing next to B, so C bows to A. Now, A bows to C, who is neighbored by B and D. So B and D bow to A. And so on. They must have been bowing to each other for a full minute in the middle of the street. It was such a spectacle. It may be more elegant than a crude handshake, but when you are holding a hand, you don’t ever question who it belongs to. I will miss the bows.

As soon as we landed in Japan, the first thing that hit me was the language barrier. Ever since arriving, communication has been a source of amusement as much as it has been an obstacle. I was delighted that one of the first signs I saw in the airport read: “Under construction. It wishes understanding to be cooperation.” If reading Engrish amused me this much, I was in for a treat when the Japanese would begin to speak to me. We learned a handful of essential phrases from the concierge at the hotel, but it was amazing how quickly the phrases became exchanged and mixed as time passed. For example, it turns out I have been greeting people with “very much” rather than “good morning” for most of the week. And I assumed that irasshaimase was a general salutation when waitresses and vendors said it to me, so I adopted the greeting. Now I know that I was walking around a crowded department store food court exclaiming “come in” to the vendors. I love listening to all the different ways the Americans try to communicate with Japanese people. There are several strategies in my group.

• Margie repeats what she says with slightly varying intonation. Her misunderstanding seems to be that the volume or pitch of the words is the source of confusion for the waitress taking her order. The evidence from this trip suggests that this may be an ineffective way to convey an idea.
• Clinton probably has the best strategy. When he sees that his efforts are futile, he gives up. This is the most efficient method with regard to time and effort, but it unfortunately leaves him no closer to his goal than he started.
• When Peter hits a wall, he pauses, thinks, and adapts his strategy. So, if someone doesn’t understand, he rephrases with the hope that simpler English might be more successful, and this tends to work well.
• Kevin doesn’t seem to register when someone is having difficulty understanding him. I guess it’s not really a problem because someone else usually finishes his thought for him after he stops paying attention. I will call it the blissfully ignorant strategy, and it seems to work.
• Susan will usually start laughing uncontrollably before she is able to convey a complete thought. She is like a cat, and Engrish is her ball of yarn. A mistranslation will amuse her for hours, and we generally leave her to it.
• I think Alana is the most productive when it comes to communicating with people who don’t speak English. She incorporates props and hand gestures that can be universally recognized. If she is ordering dinner for us, she will point to each of us, then to the menu to indicate our preferences. My amateur cost-benefit analysis indicates that this is the most favorable strategy.