No Regrets!

Been home for a few weeks, but my eye is still on Japan. I continued to follow the Kyushu Basho, Fukuoka’s sumo tournament, and watched as Aonishiki, the man we affectionately referred to as Jerry Cowlings from Indianapolis, won the tournament. He is in fact a Ukrainian and a rising star in the sumo world. I’m also still getting Japan videos in my feeds. I love how I can recognize so many of the places and remember standing in those exact spots, and I also like being able to see through the bullshit filters and music make a lot of the spots more romantic than they really are.

As usual, it sucked to be home at first, with the annoyingly familiar at home and all the nonsense with family and friends, the neighborhood, and my country. But I’m finally climbing out of post-travel depression, settling into a routine, and indulging in the foods I missed most: bagels, cheeseburgers, turkey sandwiches, and pizza. All my gifts have been distributed, souvenirs placed neatly on shelves, and I’ve started making a dent in my epic collection of Japanese Kit Kats.

I’ve sampled each of the exotic flavors I picked up in Japan and produced my official Kit Kat ratings. To properly calibrate the 1-10 scale, I have placed the regular flavor right in the middle.

By the way, Kit Kat is nicely washed down with a warm, unsweetened cup of tea. Cuts through the sweetness nicely.

On the subject of Japanese food, I still marvel at some of the things I ate while over there, from octopus to freshly decapitated shrimp served raw with their heads fried to writhing abalone to mountains of mushrooms. I’m very lucky to have eaten at some of the best restaurants in Japan, but some of the hole-in-the-wall spots we found were every bit as good. I only realize now that I didn’t get to enjoy two of my favorite Japanese flavors, teriyaki and bubble tea, but I more than made up for it with lots of sushi, wagyu, and matcha.

Highlights from our trip include the varied madness of Tokyo, the beauty of Mt. Fuji, the heavy history of Hiroshima, the magic of bullet trains, and the tradition of sumo. Temples and shrines were each unique and beautiful, though hordes of tourists sometimes cheapened the experience. It’s interesting how some are tiny, while others are massive complexes that take hours to wander. Some you can walk inside without shoes, others you must stay outside. Some have impressive sculptures in the middle, others are cavernous and mostly empty.

For sure, another highlight were my daily laughs with Dave. Between clever wordplay, insensitive cultural jokes, and lots of potty humor, Dave and I kept each other in stitches. The fart humor persisted throughout the trip, culminating in jokes about a philosophart (or smart fart) while walking the Philosopher’s Path or farting for real during fancy sushi dinners. By the end of the trip, Samurai Dave and Samurai Jeff were completely fleshed out characters with enough material to make a good SNL sketch.

Another highlight, perhaps less obvious, was the thorough and efficient itinerary mostly planned with the help of ChatGPT. Suggested timing for every activity and every train was impeccable, and with the possible exception of a shortened visit to teamLab Biovortex Kyoto to make a dinner reservation, we never really felt rushed. Leaning on ChatGPT for transportation logistics on the fly worked flawlessly. Dave and I wouldn’t have changed a thing.

And when we weren’t in a taxi or on a train, we walked. And we walked a LOT. On this Japan trip, I totaled 277,367 steps, which is roughly 132 miles. I averaged over 15,000 steps (7+ miles) a day, with daily highs of 26,000 (Hiroshima) and 25,000 (Kyoto) steps. We ate like kings, but we walked like peasants.

The lowlight for us in Japan was probably the nightlife. Almost every night after dinner, we’d head out to explore the most social district of whatever city we were in, but time and time again, we were disappointed. We’re used to large and social Western-style bars, and we just couldn’t understand the appeal of the tiny 5-10 seat bars that were usually either empty or full of dudes. How do you says “sausage fest” in Japanese? It didn’t help that most of these tiny bars were nearly impossible to find, often unmarked and tucked into alleys or up staircases. Online research suggested that dance clubs are the most popular social venues, but these are places that Dave and I, in our old age, couldn’t bring ourselves to go to. Karaoke? Never got around to it. The Japanese version, which would have had Dave and I singing to each other in a private room, didn’t appeal to us.

Instead, Japanese nightlife seems to consist of kids wandering the streets under bright neon signs. It is indeed mostly kids, with a notable absence of adults or even young adults out and about after dark. Do people in Japan marry early, stay married, and retreat from nightlife entirely?

Dave and I really wanted to experience Japanese nightlife, and we tried. But most of our nights out ended in mild disappointment.

In the end, I was left with an impression that Japan is a culture of childlike cuteness, service, efficiency, and social order. Japanese people are definitely into their rules and social courtesies, and there is definitely a basic level of respect afforded to everyone. But just underneath all of this, I saw very few of them experiencing things together or experiencing joy, aside from the occasional school group visiting museums. Underneath all the social niceties, there is to me what feels like an hollow lack of connection. Do the Japanese prefer this isolation? Or is this really an epidemic of loneliness?

And toward us, they were mostly indifferent. Even in the more remote places where we stood out more, nobody really cared. Eye contact was rare, conversation was rarer. I felt a tolerance of us, and at times, perhaps a hint of disdain for us. I know the language barrier was real, but even the slightest bit of curiosity from some of the locals would have encouraged me to find a middle ground for communication. With smiles and technology, you can go anywhere.

Some final observations and curiosities about Japan:

• Japanese people aren’t as short as I expected. Plenty of guys taller than me.
• Japanese is always spoken cheerfully and sing-songy. Many women seem to squeeze their throats when they talk to sound like young girls.
• There is a name for all the cute characters and logos and toys in Japan: “kawaii”. The kawaii aesthetic is characterized by soft pastel colors, rounded shapes, and childlike features like big eyes and small mouths.
• A shocking lack of enthusiasm for baseball, not for their own Nippon Series or Ohtani in the World Series. Rarely on TV, and no one wore baseball gear. Ohtani featured in a couple of ads, that’s it.
• No tipping is nice. Everyone seems to take pride in their work, unmotivated by the hope of tips. No awkward tip math or fumbling with cash.
• Cities were very clean. Electric cars help. I think every taxi we rode in was electric.
• Restaurants offer hand wipes, sometimes steaming towels in ceramic trays, sometimes hermetically sealed towelettes.
• Navigating trains can be confusing with multiple companies, paper tickets, QR codes, and limited English, but station staff are always there to help.
• Cell service was spotty. Even the shinkansen WiFi was unreliable, going out completely in the many tunnels.
• Google Translate is a lifesaver for taxi drivers taxi drivers, ticket takers, and making new friends.

I’d go to Japan again, maybe. My hesitation is not because I didn’t like it, but because we saw Japan so thoroughly this time through. Maybe I go again with the promise of Japanese baseball.

One final lesson in Japanese:

じゃあね。
Jā ne.
See you later.