07 Wonder x Free, Wooo

Japan has ninjas, but it does not have a ninja problem. It does, however, have a problem with lions. There are a lot of lions in Japan. In the country where seagulls are an exhibit at the zoo, lions roam free.

The Japanese Lion can be distinguished from the African Lion in a number of simple ways. African Lions can be found in vast, open spaces such as the Savannah, but Japanese Lions can only be found in the densest areas of Japanese cities. Second, the Japanese Lion enjoys artificial tanning; an African Lion has too much hair to also enjoy artificial tanning.

Unique to all other lions that I’m aware of, the Japanese Lion also has a fashion sense. They enjoy dressing in trendy clothes, presumably in order to attract female lions. The African Lion pees on things and roars really loud to achieve the same thing. Finally, though the mane of a Japanese Lion is well kept just like an African Lion’s, the Japanese Lion’s cell phone contacts are much more organized.

There are a lot of lions in Japan. My brother and I saw one riding on a train. I took a picture of it, but my flash was on. Taking a picture of a lion with your flash on lets the lion know that you were taking a picture of it. Unfortunately, increasing a lion’s ego is one of the major problems Japan is having right now with its lion population.

Chris and I were off to Akihabara, also known as Electric Town, also known as the place in Tokyo where seven people were massacred just one month earlier. The murderer’s weapon of choice was his truck, but it only took him so far. I think he knew this, but fortunately he brought his knife too.

Akihabara used to be famous for all things otaku (otaku, remember, means geek). Now it’s infamous for the place where psychotic otaku go to misdirect years of repressed rage. Oh well, it still had all the games I was looking for.

There are no lions in Akihabara — it’s an exception to the rule.

This was my last day with my JR pass, so we were going to all the places in Tokyo on or near JR lines. From Akihabara we went to Ginza. Ginza is for people richer than us, but you can check your email for free at the Apple Store.

Gaijin are pretty clever sometimes — updating your Facebook page from an Apple Store is, admittedly, something I never thought of. Of the eight Mac Book Airs hooked up to the internet, eight of them were being used by white people to check the virtual part of their social lives. Chris and I each had one. And because Ginza is for people richer than us, we all laughed rich gaijin laughs.

We hopped on the train to go to somewhere, anywhere else to eat. You don’t eat in places for people richer than you. We headed to Harajuku.

Harajuku is where Gwen Stefani went to get her dance pack. It’s also where, on weekends, outcast girls from Tokyo and the nearby areas gather to share their commonness. They gather on a bridge near the train station; they wear black clothes and white face paint; they wear high socks that are striped black and white; they have chains holding their sleeves to their jackets and they put too many things in their hair.

That’s on weekends though. This day was a Wednesday – it was a Vitamin Guard day.

Behind the bridge where the Harajuku Girls gather is the wonderful Meiji Shrine. Meiji Shrine comes with my highest recommendation. I found the place spiritual like Fushimi Inari – the one in Kyoto with the orange gates. It’s also free. Freeness is a key element of spirituality. The wonder multiplied with the freeness gave us something Wooo.

At the shrine I saw a classmate of mine from two years prior. That sort of thing is pretty much impossible in Tokyo.

Harajuku is good for shopping, something we didn’t particularly care to do, so we left. We walked from Harajuku to Shibuya – about a ten-minute walk. Shibuya is the Lion’s Den. It’s where the lions eat, work, get their tans, stand with their backs against walls, call out to girls who are just as impressively tanned and, finally, it’s where they get their manes feathered and trimmed.

If a city is its sites to see, then Shibuya is Tokyo.

Shibuya is the place that makes Tokyo a city worth seeing. Shibuya is where you need to go first. It’s super-modern, over-full, seven-stories tall, merchandise-friendly, fashion-conscious and fast-moving. It’s musical, magical, electric, eclectic, upscale, upbeat, affordable and awesome. Shibuya is Wooo.

Shibuya Crossing Video

If music is your thing, than Shibuya is more dangerous than Akihabara the day the newest Dragon Quest comes out. We spent two hours in the HMV drooling on CD and DVD cases – we were marking our territory for the date when we could afford to buy them. That day wouldn’t likely come. The HMV was seven-stories of things we don’t have. If it weren’t for an even more basic instinct we would have completed our Christmas wish lists for the next sixty years. We needed to eat.

We ate dinner at an Irish Pub, where the waiter was from Ireland. We ordered $800 worth of pop, gasoline and grass each. We also ate meals we hadn’t had in a long time. I had the all day breakfast and Chris had fish and chips.

The hero James returns again later on, and he teaches me of something that’s relevant at this time. According to James, an Englishman has done some species classification on Gaijin. There are five levels of Gaijin, so it goes. Level-five gaijin blend in. They don’t cause a stir and they don’t wear cameras around their necks. Level-one gaijin bring their home and their favourite chair to Japan. Sitting next to us was a level-one. We didn’t know the proper classification at the time, but he was definitely a level-one — his friend too! (If it were up to me I would have reversed the system so level-fives were the fiercest, as to mimic their hurricane counterparts. However…)

This level-one talked louder than his warm and floating head would have him believe. He wore his power-suit, his hair was slicked back and he talked about big cash transactions. He used words like hedging, real options and hundred-thousand. His partner didn’t say a word, but he was laughing so hard you would have sworn he was going to fall off his chair and start kicking his legs in the air, begging the level-one to stop.

The level-one didn’t stop.

He went on about clients and portfolios. He jabbered about statistics and normal curves. And whenever he got the chance, he would drop F-Bombs as if his intention were to set Tokyo ablaze again. His friend would spit out his pop, gasoline and grass every time he did — to add fuel to the flames.

I wondered if we could have gotten him fired if we had recorded his conversation. Oh well.

It was night now. Our seats at the pub overlooked the nighttime streets of Shibuya. Wooo.

We walked back to the station, crossed the biggest intersection in Tokyo, crept passed a Lion’s Den, saw some level-twos and threes and talked to a professor doing research on Japanese people’s English skills. He held a big sign that said, “Speak to me in English.” He’s disappointed with the state of linguistics in Japan. He lived in Florida for some time and worked in real estate.

We arrived at the hostel; Atsushi was playing a drinking game with his friends. I went to shower. I knew my luck couldn’t keep up with this, but I promised to be more open to the whole thing.

I locked the door. Forget that! Wooo!

Chris and I set our air conditioners to space travel and were frozen in our capsules, though I woke up at five to pee.