The Kindliness of Strangers
Thursday, December 6, 2007 at 02:10PM Dateline: Tokyo, JAPAN
As Friday wore on and the last shows were in the bag, the pace of life began to accelerate exponentially. Suddenly everyone’s agendas were at odds. Some wanted to bar-b-que; others wanted to cruise on a boat through the park; and more than a few wanted to hook-up with that special someone they’d been crushing on for weeks. What we all had in common was we needed to pack our heaps of crap into far too few bags and clear out of our rooms. And we had to do this by 4:00 AM when the bus was to pick us up and drive us to the airport.
It was a day of minor catastrophes for me. On the last trick of the last show I dismounted my unicycle for the 42nd time on the World Bazaar stage and it came crashing down behind me just as it always does. This time, however, the pedal hit the stage in such a way as to crack it completely in two. I packed it away as is, just being glad I wouldn’t have to worry about repairs before I was back in NYC. Then my bowler hat went missing. It was at large for several hours until one of the staff found it in the back of a van. (Not my fault.) Finally, I managed to overturn a bottle of latex nose-glue causing an awful mess before going out to do my last set. (My fault entirely.) All these things sound pretty minor a day (or even several hours) ex post facto, but at the time they were occurring they stressed me out considerably.
Somehow in the middle of this Jessie (a clown from CA, my replacement) convinced me to give up 40 minutes to ride one of the rides I’d not yet ridden. We had our faces scanned with clown noses and got to see ourselves in an animated space movie.
The B-B-Q was a cold and dark affair. The remainder of a bottle of Johnny Walker was my substitute for both food and mittens. My intention to sleep as much as possible was thwarted by the aforementioned Hungarian Lotharios and other inconsiderates who slammed doors until the bus arrived. At the airport Taiko again informed me that the adventure I was about to embark upon was highly irregular and against her better judgment. I thanked her and hugged her awkwardly before leaving the pack and descending into the bowels of the Fukuoka subway system with suitcase and accordion in tow.
5 hours on the shinkansen (bullet train) took me halfway across the country. I saw Mt. Fuji at 200 mph, and listened to French pop music. Officially—at least according to me—the last line of any haiku needs must be “I see Mount Fuji”, so I was glad to be able to check it off the list, even if it is really no different than another snow-capped peak when whizzing-by at light speed.
As a clown, one of my strengths is showing pain. Well, not so much pain as struggle and desperation. I discovered looking calm and collected gets you no help when you need it, so I grimaced wildly as I tried to manage my oversized suitcase, accordion and backpack against the throng in the Tokyo train station. What I had been trying to do, unsuccessfully, was to purchase a subway ticket to get me to the inn. As previously mentioned, I was doing this on almost no sleep. I had eaten nothing but a couple rice cakes and “Amino Value” drink in close to 16 hours. Finally, after about 45 minutes of trying, someone approached me and asked me if I was going to die. Well, not actually that, but I imagine that was the subtext of “can I help you?” in this particular circumstance. She was my first angel of the day, but she wouldn’t be my last. She managed to get me to the train I’d been seeking so desperately.
A short ride later the situation repeated itself as I tried to find the inn. For those of you who’ve never traveled in Asia, let’s just say that it’s entirely different than traveling in America or Europe in that street names are almost irrelevant and decidedly not marked. Any map or set of directions is open to wide interpretation. There is no “turn left on MAIN, go two blocks and make a right on 2nd Ave.” My directions to the hotel were as follows (compliments of Let’s Go Japan): “From the west exit head towards the police box and cross to KFC. Turn left, continue 3 blocks, and go right at Sumitomo-Mitsui bank. Take the 4th left at the major intersection, 3rd right before the pharmacy, and 1st left. It’s on the left in illegible kanji (Japanese characters).” Let’s just say that the “sumitomo-Mitsui bank” must have closed since the publication of this book. I pushed my load through the hoards of people for a long while when I decided I’d gone too far and turned around.
About then I met my 2nd angel. She was on a bicycle and probably all of 19. “Excuse me, are you looking for Kimi Ryokan?” Indeed I was. How did she know? She declared that she often saw Westerners with suitcases looking confused. She turned me around, and proceeded to escort me through a series of winding streets with no markings to the very non-descript building that I certainly would have never found. “Here you are,” she said, and spun around on her bicycle and disappeared as I shouted hearty thanks.
Once unloaded and checked in, I chose the path of least resistance—Subway. A foot-long sandwich with guacamole was something I hadn’t even contemplated in 2 months, but in Tokyo you can get anything. I took a walk and eventually ended up at the National Theatre. I considered seeing some kabuki, but then realized I was dying of fatigue. My head was splitting open. Here I was on vacation and I hadn’t slept in almost 24 hours, maybe more. I reasoned that if I went to bed at 6:00 PM I could stave off the jet lag when I got back to New York AND get to be a party animal by closing down dance clubs at 5:00 AM. (What WAS I thinking, honestly?) Let’s just say that getting back to the inn was less simple without my bicycle girl, but eventually I did. I went to bed for what I thought would be a long winter’s nap. An hour later the phone rang. I rolled over and ignored it. 2 hours later it rang again. I picked up. There was a message from the front desk. Sara had been by to see me and had left a message. She was available to hang-out tonight. When the room stopped spinning I realized that it would be rude for me to blow off my 3rd angel of the day. After my nap I was feeling a bit refreshed anyway.
What followed was a rendezvous for pizza, coffee, and conversation. Nothing remarkable to blog about, but it was good to not be alone in the big city. We have plans for tomorrow, but I’ll close this out because this time I really AM going to bed. I’m not kidding.
Reader Comments (2)
Hello. This post is likeable, and your blog is very interesting, congratulations :-). I will add in my blogroll =). If possible gives a last there on my blog, it is about the http://notebooks-brasil.blogspot.com" REL="nofollow">Notebook, I hope you enjoy. The address is http://notebooks-brasil.blogspot.com. A hug.
Hello. This post is likeable, and your blog is very interesting, congratulations :-). I will add in my blogroll =). If possible gives a last there on my blog, it is about the http://monitor-de-lcd.blogspot.com" REL="nofollow">Monitor de LCD, I hope you enjoy. The address is http://monitor-de-lcd.blogspot.com. A hug.