Leo ordered for us, not because I couldn’t read the menu, but because there was no chance of deciding.  So we got a bit of everything.  To the right is a picture of our meal, only halfway through.  Starting clockwise at 12 is fried chicken, salad, gyoza, soy sauce, my salad, gyoza sauce, and salmon sashimi.  Now one thing people don’t believe me about is that Japanese people love fried chicken more than the black community.  Watching some of those KFC commercials makes me feel like I need a shower afterward.  Are you skeptical too?  Well then, do YOU eat fried chicken on Christmas?  I thought so.  Most people don’t know what gyoza is which saddens me because they’re awesome and I make it.  They’re simply lil pork-filled dumplings of happiness.  You can pretty much order them at any Asian restaurant in the U.S. under the name “potstickers”.  Another interesting thing is that Japanese people, especially Tokyoites LOVE mayo.  As you can see from the empty bowl next to my salad (which was also salad) is nothing, but the mayonnaise left behind from my first salad.  The second too was covered in mayo, fortunately Leo was somewhat merciful in serving my second bowl.  The salmon steaks which weren’t brought out until after this photograph, also covered in mayonnaise and scallions.  Someday, yes, maybe someday, they’ll discover the tangy zip of Miracle Whip.

Japanese beer is amazing.  It’s tasty, delicate, and doesn’t have that shitty aftertaste most stateside brews do.  My indulgence while over there was Suntory which is heartbreaking because it seems to be the one beer over here that isn’t on the menu at Japanese restaurants (which are really run by Chinese, by the way).  An interesting aspect of getting the draft is that in Japan, they serve it with the foam heads.  I’m not quite sure how I feel about this.  I really didn’t mind, but just the feeling of it on my lips, made me crave a beer float.  One thing I noticed is that I was nearly finished with my beer and Leo wasn’t even halfway.  Thanks for making me look like an alcoholic.  The reason why he’d stopped is because his face was turning red and he was embarrassed by it.  YES!  IT DOES HAPPEN!  Their faces turn red with just a lil bit of alcohol!  They get drunk so easily, no need for roofies! It was actually extremely cute and I made no hesitation in declaring so, but when we left he put on his shades and kept asking if it had gone away yet.  ちょう可愛い～！！！

We’d discovered that we both LOVE eel, so the next day we had kabayaki.  Kabayaki is grilled eel over rice, so so amazing.  You can try to order it’s bastardized cousin over here under the name “unagi don”.  Kabayaki is simple and delicious and NOT TO BE FUCKED WITH, AMERICA!  We got it from this fancy restaurant in a department store above Tokyo Station.  Also served was the best miso in my life and a variety of tsukemono (Japanese pickles).  It’s here that I realized something that pissed me off.  I’ve been using chopsticks since I was 5 years-old, but I’ve always been told I use them just as strangely as I hold a pen or type (I assure you, it’s weird).  So weeks before I made my journey, I practiced using them the proper way (a.k.a. how the chopstick wrappers show you).  It was here, watching Leo put the food away 30x faster than I, that I noticed…that mo-fo uses chopsticks the exact same way I did.  Fortunately, I’m back to Bethany-style, but that training was all for naught.  It was also here that I was finally allowed to pay for myself, by stealing the check.  Unfortunately, in order to do so and not have him sabotage it, I had to agree to half-and-half.  Damn that sweet jerk!

Although I was awake and on Tokyo time, regrettably, my stomach was not and thus this bento was the only other meal I had.  Once again clock-wise there’s onigiri (filled with spiced meat), a hard-boiled egg, a korokke (croquette), shrimp, Japanese hambaagu (hamburger topped with an awesome worchestershire-like sauce and here place on pasta, onigiri (filled with umeboshi, pickled plum), a plain onigiri, onigiri (filled with soy-sauce marinated seaweed I believe) and of course in the corner, a glob of mayo.  All of this was delicious.  The umeboshi is just as sour as you may have been told and bloody hell do I wish there was a packet of salt around to make it tolerable.  It only cost about 7$ from 7-11.

The other thing I tried was a taiyaki from a stall in Asakusa.  Taiyaki is a fish-shaped cake which is usually filled with a red bean paste.  I, having heard of these before my trip, dreaded trying them because my disdain for beans is immeasurable.  Fortunately, as we stood by watching them being made, Leo bought some and tossed them to me.  Ah, the situation seemed dire.  I didn’t want to eat them, but didn’t want to be rude so stalled by not chewing my breath mint.  Finally, I decided what-the-hell.  The first bite was indescribable.  The warm soft cake, the red beans which were like a sweet pudding, it was heavenly.  Ever since that moment, I’ve declared an addiction to these red beans, these azuki.  Now, I never back down from an opportunity to eat red bean ice cream and even ordered momiji manju for Christmas (similar to taiyaki, but shaped like momiji or maple leaves).

I did try some weird ice cream, but will tell you about it in my Ikebukuro write-up.  Until then, here are some etiquette tips when dining.

#1 -You’ll be served a hot towel to wash your hands with.  Don’t wash your face, though while you eat, it’s okay to wipe your mouth with.  Just return to the basket when you’ve finished.  (Men will wash their faces in informal restaurants)

#2 – Lay your chopsticks flat, never straight-up.  That would be what they do in funerals.  Don’t pass food with chopsticks either for the same reason.

#3 – When drinking, don’t pour for yourself and don’t drink until everyone’s served.

#4 – Soup and rice is held to your mouth.  Everything except the broth should be eaten with a chopstick (unless by chance they give you a spoon.  HA!  Good luck with that one).

#5 – Eat every last grain (HA! Good luck with that one too.  It’s not as easy as it looks)

#6 - You’re also supposed to slurp soup or noodles to express your compliments to the chef.  (Fuck that, I’m deaf)

#7 – When eating from a large dish, you’re supposed to serve yourself with the opposite ends of the chopsticks.  (Fuck that too, I was with a hot guy and he didn’t care)

#8 – Itadakimasu when a meal starts, Gochisousama deshita at the end.

So after dropping things off at my hotel in Bakurocho, we headed to Shibuya so Leo could pick up his V-Rock tickets. I feel like if there’s anything you want to do in Tokyo, most of it can be done in Shibuya. There’s nothing, but restaurants, department stores, bars, karaoke clubs, arcades (aka game centers), etc. etc. I think we even walked close to the *love hotel area of Tokyo (will have to confirm by going to a love hotel next time)

One of the most interesting landmarks in Shibuya is Hachiko.  Hachiko’s story is pretty well known, supposedly Richard Gere will even be starring in a movie based on the canine.  Basically this dog would see off his master and welcome him home everyday at Shibuya station.  One day, the master didn’t return, having died from a heart attack at work.  Still, the dog came to the station right when his master’s train would arrive and waited for the next 10 years.  His loyalty received national attention and thus the Hachiko statue was built.  It’s interesting because nowadays it’s a popular location to meet someone.  Sadly, I don’t have a picture.  Somehow we walked past it without noticing until the next day in Asakusa.

Considering all the images of pedestrians you see on television, a somewhat surprising aspect of Tokyo is that there are a ton of cars.  Still, it seems like for every vehicle, there’s 20 people walking.  One of my favorite ridiculous stereotypes is that Asians can’t drive.  I’d like anyone who has ever said that to try to cross the street in Shibuya.  When it comes to driving, they know EXACTLY what they’re doing.  When the light turns blue, they step on the gas, whether there are a dozen pedestrians still crossing or not.  I’m not going to lie, I started to use Leo as a human shield.

* Back when sex was all the rage (According to a recent Japan Today article, 25% of single men in their 30′s are virgins – So that’s why there’s so much porn), love hotels started popping up like…eh, an innuendo is too easy here.  These tacky and themed establishments gave lovers a haven for their sexy time, considering many adults still lived with their parents and cheap apartments have thin walls.

Check them out @ musicjapanplus

When going into the station, you head for the ticket booth and look at a big confusing map above your ticket machines.  It will show the station you’re at, the connecting stations, some stations that connect to that, and numbers.  Those numbers are the price it would cost to get to where you want.  The station names for the most part all are written in Japanese.  In Bakurocho only 6 stations or so on the map had the names also listed in the English alphabet.  That sucked because I had to make some transfers at smaller stations and couldn’t read their names.  All the stations are connected together by colored lines, those lines are the lines you’ll take, but unlike other countries, there is no actual main line.  The color themselves mean nothing.

Now that you know the price, you turn to the machine.  You press a button for the type of ticket you want – single, double, reserved, etc. and then throw in your yen.  After you do, a grid of ticket prices will show and you just touch the one your stations costs.  Out will pop your ticket and any change that’s left.  If you chose the wrong amount, you don’t have to worry; there are fare adjustment machines or booths at every station and the tickets themselves aren’t station specific.  Don’t think you can cheat it though because the ticket gates will close right on your knees (even if your ticket was just the wrong way when you put it in).  I think a couple of machines I saw had English options, but whether you can read Japanese or not, you don’t have to bother with it.  The worst part is figuring out the map.

Next you put your ticket into the gate and make sure to grab it on the other side or else you can’t pass in the next station.  Then off you go to find the platform your train leaves from.  This is another mindfuck, especially at Tokyo station where there are like a hundred platforms all seemingly miles away from each other.  The best thing to do is to write down the characters you saw on the map for that colored line and follow the hundreds of signs til you find the same characters.  Once you get to the platform, there are always 2 trains.  What sucks is that the signs for them only list 3 of the line’s major stations.  So the signs aren’t going to tell you you’re in the right spot if you’re looking for a smaller station like Kinshicho.  There are signs on the post that show the lines and all the stations on the way, but it’s actually disorienting as to which is right or left since there are multiple exits.  The best trick I was taught is to hop on the train quickly and check to see if your stop’s listed.  I also found it easier to actually find the stations by their kanji rather that their alphabetical names, especially when you need just a quick glance.

The ride itself shouldn’t be too difficult.  Stations are announced in Japanese and then English.  On most, but not all trains, there are screens above each door that will show the current and next station names in Japanese and then romaji.  On Japanese trains, you’re not ever supposed to talk on your cellphone, but falling asleep on the stranger next to you is completely acceptable.  The chikan or molesters usually hang out in the first and last cars because it’s an easier getaway when arriving at the station since they’re right at the exits.  Apparently, they tend to not grope foreign women, not because they don’t want to, but rather our sexual harassment suits are famous.  Do you recall seeing those images of the Tokyo trains on television with people packed in there disturbingly like a Nazi gas chamber?  I had to deal with those 3 or 4 times.  You’re really so squeezed in there, your boobs are touching the person’s back in front of you…well unless you are Japanese.  It is miserable and everyone there is miserable, especially when trying to push out the door at your stop.  A lot of Westerners question why they don’t just wait for the next train.  Well, it’s because the next train and probably every train for the next couple hours is going to be the exact same way.  Standing is a bit difficult on the trains, but it’s definitely a skill one learns with time.  As I was clutching a handle for dear life, this woman near me, wearing stilettos and messaging on her cell, didn’t.  It was the most amazing feat of balance I’d ever seen.  Not everyone’s as graceful though.  I had this one girl’s face almost dive into my boobs with a jerk of the train.

At your destination, you follow the swarm of people up or down at least one flight of stairs.  With the Keiyo line, at Tokyo station, I had to walk like 6 flights of stairs and a few km to get to my platforms.  IT IS THAT BIG.  If you’re transferring, you can actually just proceed through to your next platform and pay the fair adjustment at the next station.  If not, you just proceed to the gates, insert your ticket (no return), and find your exit.  At Tokyo Station, there was the Marunouchi and Yaesu’s exits, North, Central, and South (6 in total).  Because the stations can be so big, sometimes choosing a wrong exit can leave you at a different part of town.

If you are going to have your fair adjusted at some point, you’ll find a machine or booth near the gates.  The machines, you pop in your ticket, insert the amount it tells you is owed, and receive a new ticket which will let you pass the gates.  At the booth’s you give the employee your ticket, hand him the cash, and pass through the manned gate.

This is supposed to be a guide and I hope it will be assistance to others, but really, when you take the train for the first time, it’s disorienting.  Some might even develop culture shock, but really it doesn’t take long to figure out the basics.  I know I couldn’t have become as skilled as I was without my densha-senpai (= something like “train upperclassman”).

People were thinking that as soon as I landed, I would’ve realized that I was going to Tokyo alone and freaked out.  This wasn’t the case.  I wasn’t terribly excited, but neither was I nervous whatsoever.  When I got off the plane I immediately messaged Leo saying I’d arrived.  It was kinda hard to message him back and forth while going through immigration, customs, and baggage while still not being completely used to typing in Japanese on my cell.  Unusually, the Narita airport was easier to navigate than any of the ones I’d been to in America.  When I exited into the main area of the airport, to make things easier I took a pic of the exit I was at and sent it.  As it turns out, he was standing 2 feet away from me.  I’d taught him what a “hot mess” was before I arrived which is why at first I didn’t want to meet at the airport…and there he showed me this lil sign he made that read “hot mess”.

Japanese flatlines
I didn’t even bother speaking English.  All I did was talk on my dates and he doesn’t speak a word of English.  I never even figured out if my hotel staff spoke English as they were supposed to, we just communicated in Japanese.

I’m pretty damn fat
For the most part, I’m average-sized over there.  Sure, the majority seemed skinnier than me, but I saw a good number of girls my size.  I even saw a handful you could easily call obese.

Biggest breasts
Yeah….FML.  I did see a woman in Shibuya who rocked some C-cups.  That’s about it.

Guy hates me and instantly ditches me
The result couldn’t be more the opposite.  He lost sleep because of me.  All night he’d work, then want to spend all day with me.  When we finally parted at the airport he’d been awake for 30 hours straight, 20 of those were with me. He wants to take me to see the cherry blossoms bloom in Ueno.

I still won’t be afraid
No worries whatsoever.  In fact, oddly, I felt more comfortable there than over here.  Try to solve that mindfuck.  Even Leo told me I was weird for not being worried.

The concert kills my ears
I need to get my audiologist a thank-you gift.  We blindly/deafly (for a more appropriate term), created the new program.  I’d been thinking about it for awhile and wanted a directional with the basses removed because even if I don’t actually hear bass tones, they give me a lot of trouble and even hurt.  There was no way we could test this since she didn’t have an amp in her office.  It was magical, I had no problems and could clearly make out the vocalists.  I even went to see some of my favorite metal bands of all time.

As you’ll recall I had a contest for others’ expectations of my trip, although they were meant to be less serious

The winner was  Kristen from NC. Congratulations!

This is not a woman

Japanese rockers are of such ambiguous sex, Maury Povich could run an “Is This A Man or Woman” marathon for a year. Because of that, I’m going to teach the best tips for identifying the genitals BEFORE you wind up in a dangerous situation.

#1 – Attraction : If you look at a Jrocker and think “This is the hottest chick I’ve ever seen”, they’re a man
It doesn’t matter if you’re straight or gay, male or female, it’s fail-proof that they’re male. The androgyny of these people is so solid, their fan base is like an orgy you’re never drunk enough to join.

#2 – Make-up : If they’re wearing make-up, they’re most likely male
Usually in the West, when we see a ton of make-up, we think “drag queen”. Unfortunately, a lot of these guys can get away with bare minimum as you can see in the example photo. The good news is that most female rockers don’t wear make-up because most of them play in punk bands and need Valium. There are some exceptions where females do embrace the visual-kei lifestyle, but they put on as much make-up as their male counterparts thus looking like trannies anyway (*see Danger Gang).

#3 – Voice : If it sounds like a dude, it’s a dude
You don’t have to worry about feminine sounding men. Most Japanese rockers have a surprising bass to their voice. The only real way to get a Japanese rocker to up their tone is to provoke them into spazzing out in accented English with a gay lisp (*see Yoshiki).

#4 – Cleavage : Pay attention to it, but do not trust the cleavage
I hate to be the bearer of stereotypes, but most Japanese women aren’t stacked as it is. You find bigger breasts in the Sunday morning cartoons. Not a lot of the styles are low cut enough to find cleavage, because it’s more socially acceptable for women to sexualize themselves as 5 year-olds than it is to wear a tube-top. Every now and then you will see a nice corset in the Jrock scene, but even I personally would not trust that cleavage. They’re proven artisans of painted-on faces, do you really think stuffing a bra would be too difficult? If you want to trust the cleavage, go for the live cleavage. A word of warning though – never look at Japanese punk girl’s chest. As I said, they’re crazy; they’ll cut you so bad, you’ll wish they didn’t cut you so bad.

#5 – Junk : Look for the nudes
To live without answers or to live with answers you don’t like. The choice is yours, as are the therapy costs.

Airing times are 11:00am – 9:00pm on the 24th & 25th (10:00pm – 8:00am 23rd-24th and 10:00pm – 8:00am 24th-25th in EST).

Download the plugin for IE only here (the first black button):

http://www.bmcdn.net/p2p/v-rockfes_200910/download.html

And test the plugin here:
http://www.v-rockfes.com/content5/index.cgi?no=EEVbCNfRScvtscCg3xCpC

Let me know if you see me, I’ll be the one who can’t headbang in synchronization.

BTW this is listed in chronological order.  If I were going by my desire to see them, the GazettE and Plastic Tree would be tops.

SEX MACHINEGUNS

SuG

PENICILLIN

BOUNTY

D

Megamasso

BREAKERZ

alice nine

D’espairs Ray

Plastic Tree

exist trace

Merry

Daizy Stripper

lynch.

ayabie

LM.C

Versailles

the GazettE

That completes your crash course in how screwed up my music preferences are.

• Come up with some things you think I’m going to do or are going to happen to me.
  Nothing really obvious like “You will eat sushi” or “You will see cosplayers”.

• Assign the number of times you think each situation is going to happen.
  Even if it’s just once, specify.

• Points are decided by the number of times something you predicted happens subtracted by the difference between your prediction and the number of times it actually happened.  You will gain at least one point.

• Exact guesses receive +5 bonus points.

• For everything that doesn’t happen, you lose a point.

• The winner receives a special souvenir purchased during my stay.
• Entry is free though bribing me will guarantee you get something.
• I need all your information including contact details by Tues. at midnight.
• I’ll be taking the list with me in order to keep track and buy at least gender-specifically.
• I won’t manipulate any data or my actions in order for someone specific to win, because I really don’t give a damn who does.  The competition’s about MY ego, not yours.
• It doesn’t matter where you live; I’ll ship the prize to you.
• The weirder the predictions, the more likely I am to give consolation prizes.
• Current favorites are that I’ll be losing my v-card over there and the number of times I’ll hit on Japanese chicks.

Allow me to educate you on how weird the situation already is:

I, a deaf girl who was informed recently she needs new $4500 hearing aids, have never been to a concert.  I entered this contest because I didn’t think I could win and have somehow found myself going to Japan alone where I’ll be seeing at least 15/50 concerts.  I’ve also got a date to the music festival with an actual Japanese rocker.

Email me at: mightydeafsensei@gmail.com
OR drop me a message at Facebook (Bethany Ratkovich)

Good luck!