Saturday, March 20, 2009

We woke this morning to the chirping of Will, who declared it was 6:45 and time to get up. I felt a glimmer of hope he was right, but knew it my heart he wasn’t. Indeed, he’d read the glowing lights of the room thermostat, which declared it was 64.5 degrees in the room. Actually, it’s 3:25 a.m., though it feels like 11:30 a.m. Portland time. Ah, the joys of jet lag.

 While Courtenay struggled to make “Drip-On” coffee using an origami-esque folding technique that was WAY too difficult at 4 a.m., especially because it involved boiling hot water, Will wrapped his stuffed animals Snowby and Iceby in mock-kimonos using the sashes that came with our robes. We are now preparing to go to the Tsukiji Fish Market, the largest seafood market in the world. Why? Because it is the only thing in Tokyo open at this hour, except for the hookers around Shimbashi Station.

 It’s now 12:45 p.m. and what feels like three days later. We ventured out to Tsukiji at 5 a.m.; it was unbelievable. It’s a vast seafood market – the largest in the world. We arrived in darkness, unsure of where to go.When I asked a sake seller where the main fish market was, he pointed in the direction and said, in Japanese, “Be careful. It’s dangerous.”  And it was. What a scene – it reminded us of a James Bond movie where the bad guys are zipping around in little carts through a hyperindustrialized warehouse. But the bad guys here were men in rubber boots and rain coats driving little forklifts  and dragging handcarts here and there; you literally had to watch your back, your sides, your front at all time in the tiny corridors of the mazelike market.

We finally found the main fish market where upwards of 450 different kinds of seafood from around the world is sold. We saw live eels, fish, clams, scallops, you name it. At the tuna auction, we managed to squeeze into a small viewing area to watch the 5:30 a.m. auction, where wholesalers bid on the whole, frozen tuna that lay like torpedoes on the floor of a warehouse. Each auction starts with a man wildly ringing a bell and then shouting ensues and the fish are sold, ready to be shipped to restaurants around the city.

 We luckily made it out of the market without getting squashed by a forklift. We made our way back to the hotel for breakfast since we figured Will couldn’t handle raw fish for breakfast. We then walked around the Imperial Palace, bought some train tickets at the main Tokyo Station, walked around the expensive shopping area of Ginza, had coffee and croissant, and it still was barely 9 a.m. We were killing time because the highlight of our day – the visit to the Pokemon Center – wasn’t open until 10 a.m.

A train stop away, Will knew we were at the rain station because he saw a group of young people wearing Piplup hats waiting to flood the train station to direct visitors to the center.  When we arrived at 10 minutes to 10, Pokemon Center had a line snaking outside the door with anxious Japanese families waiting to get in when it opened. We joined the line, and at 10, burst into the world headquarters of the Japanese equivalent of beanie babies. They sold everything from Pokemon cards, to Pokemon stuffed animals, Pokemon seaweed, Pokemon curry rice, Pokemon chopsticks. Will was in nirvana.

We just had lunch at an amazing tempura shop, where Will wowed the kimono-clad wait staff with his appetite and his polite “Gochisoosama deshita” at the end of the meal. We sat at a counter, as at a sushi bar, and watched the chefs prepare the sushi, piece by piece. We ate way too much – we didn’t want to appear rude, of course!

And it’s only 1 p.m. We’re about to head out to Harajuku, where young people dressed in crazy clothes go to blow off steam and be rebellious out of the sight of their parents on the weekend. The weather is gorgeous and warm today, so we want to take advantage. Hope all you are well!!!