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People’s ability to lie to themselves is really really amazing.  The classic example is that everyone thinks they’re above average when it comes to driving (I really am, but that’s another post.)   This week has been a pretty good week so far, but goodness…there’s so much I’m not good at, it’s very comforting to think I’m in a foreign country right now, and have sort of a free pass on embarrassing activities for 6 months. 

I do Japanese archery.  It’s kind of a weird hobby.  But one of the reasons I stick with it is the non-BS factor.  You can’t lie to the target.  You can’t wave your hands or talk about “almost” and make your arrow hit.  You either get a hit or you don’t.  Period.   Sometimes the string smacks your arm on the way out, leaving a welt…and you get angry and frustrated but really…there’s only yourself to blame.  Sometimes you shoot and you hear a metallic twang and even if you hit, you know you did something wrong.  But sometimes you need an impartial, objective judge tell you how things are, even if it stings a bit. 

Anyhow – that’s an old story.  Today’s story is the “I got nothin'” story.   There’s a way of apologizing in Japanese, that literally translates to “I have no excuse.”  I like to think of it as “I got nothin’.”  It’s like – I have screwed up so miserably, that I can’t even say anything to make this situation marginally better.  So take that sentiment, imagine me in a Japanese jazz hip hop class, and there you go!  

…too difficult?  Yeah, hard for me to picture too.  Okay, so try this: picture a smallish dance studio with seven trendily sock warmered Japanese twenty-something women.  They’ve all got mid-back length, light brown/orange wavy hair, bangs, some have eyelash extensions, and are very focused on stretching. Think semi-classy and cute. 

“Easy,” thinks the brain.  “These guys can do this, I can do this.” 

Music starts (some familiar American pop which I liked, but can’t remember) and the “warmup” begins. Stretches – okay.  Plie?  Uh, okay.  Wait, why is everyone getting on their toes?  Wait, you’re supposed to bend over, stand on your toes, and extend your knees? What?  Oh crap.  After about ten minutes of painful squatting, toe mashing, arch collapsing pain, I was pretty warmed up.  Unfortunately, I still had twenty minutes to go.   While attempting to lift my leg perpendicularly in front of me, and then hold it steady at that height while rotating it behind me and bending down…I started to wonder if the hip hop class I’d signed up for had been swapped for the advanced pilates version, and I’d missed some announcement.  Seriously.

Oh, and those flowery Japanese gals?  More flexible than Gumby in an oven.  Splits, weird balancing poses, you name it, they were doing it.  The teacher rather quickly noticed I was having some trouble and came by to manually adjust me to an easier version of what everyone else was doing.  Kinda sad.  I’m not even going to go into the dance moves – they were easier (thank goodness) but only because I could cheat.  Kinda impossible for me to actually do them properly.   

Maybe my brain was slow on the processing, and maybe just ’cause it was my first day, but trying to do what shouldn’t be that hard was freaking impossible.  (!) 

Oh yes, and this week I wrote the two kanji for Tokyo backwards.  Oops.   Very sad.

So much to learn! So little time!   I keep thinking I should limit the stuff I try to do, but it’s all so interesting.  I mean, I completely got thrashed by the classes today, but it was fun.  And it’s pretty unlikely that in my short time here I’ll actually get anywhere with them, but some persistent part of my brain insists on soothing the ego and telling me to try.  

I suppose as long as it’s about the journey, and not the destination, I’m in good shape.   Getting all over the map these days.   Maybe that’s why, despite the ego deflation on an absolute scale (not so good at Japanese, pretty miserable at coordinated movement), I’m actually feeling pretty happy and excited about stuff in general.    

Thank goodness for self-delusion.  Dunno where I’d be without it.  

No, not that one.  The yaki imo one.  

You know, like the ice cream man, but instead he has … root vegetables. (Who says Japanese food isn’t healthier? <hides bag of cream puffs> )

Was sitting in the apartment, doing my internet thing, when this weird hypnotic voice intrudes onto my consciousness. I’d heard it once before…

“Yakiiiimoooooo” (say it ten times slow).

This triggered a flashback to two years prior, when I was watching a very serious archery shoot off.  The crickets weren’t even chirping.  You had five 60-70 year olds lined up, slowly and solemnly aiming at the distant target.  And then the chanting started, and everyone who understood it couldn’t help but snicker. Like someone’s Backstreet Boys ringtone going off as you make your golf swing.  Sort of, anyways.

Whereas last time I could only chuckle, this time I was inspired to grab me some roasty toasty sweet potato goodness. So out I went.  It’s getting chilly here, but a little jog to get me some carbohydrate goodness seemed in good order.  I caught up to the little truck, which had a little steamy wooden box on the back of it, and picked the smallest one (which is still a little large).  

It’s kinda nice that things like yaki imo trucks and ice cream people still exist.  I mean – what with suburban sprawl, and high rise apartments, you’d think that there either wouldn’t be enough people, or no one would be able to hear you from 30 floors up.  I’m on the eighth floor though, so maybe it’s not so bad.  I suppose it’s more for nostalgia’s sake than anything – and I don’t have anything to be nostalgic about in this case (and I was the only customer when I went by).  Maybe they won’t be around for so much longer.

Well – I’ll enjoy it while I’ve got it. Not bad for a cold autumn day.  Now for some tea…

So much eating going on!  I have to talk fast, so I can munch some more.

Went back to Tsukiji Fish Market for the third time, didn’t eat the twitching seafood below, but thought it had a certainly early morning beauty to it nonetheless. Still haven’t made it to Daiwa…need to stand through that line some day! Maybe I’ll go by myself since one person should be quicker to seat…

This here is a small subset of the ramen club at work. We went to a branch of Setagaya ramen, which won this year’s “best ramen in Tokyo” award according to some magazine. It serves shio broth at lunch (when it’s called hirugao, the late sibling of the asagao/morning glory) and shoyu broth at dinner, when it’s officially setagaya. I got the chashu, which had grilled slices o’ roasted pork along with the clean broth.

Ahem. This lovely plate comes from the Shiseido Parlour in Ginza! Before you get all excited, I was NOT, for the record, stocking up on makeup. Au contraire – I was enjoying a dessert course. Actually…not super creative, but it was fun going with people and watching all the retired old ladies getting their gossip on.

I also got to go to a 2 star Michelin restaurant, called kikunoi.
It’s a 3rd generation, father to son, semi-hidden kaiseki (small plate, seasonal course meal) restaurant in Akasaka. The service was great, and while the other customers were entirely business people, we had a good meal. No socks knocking about, but a good solid meal with some nice surprises.

Sigh. After writing this, I wonder why I should ever learn to cook.