Seoul – Nagoya is a 2-hour flight and I noticed the flight attendant had a permanent smile on. Erika said that’s the difference between Nippons and Koreans; the Japanese are constantly happy.
We were greeted by Tim, Erika’s brother, and Yukari, his girlfriend. That girl is a party animal, always happy and soooo interested in everything! She speaks fairly good English and taught us "yata!" - which means "awesome"! Similar to Korean, which is "yassa!"
Meet Erika (right), Yukari, and me!
First shock: Tim and Yukari had beer cans in their hands. Indeed, you can drink alcohol anywhere you like; in the subway, the street, at the airport, ANYWHERE.
Next, the porn. Japan is a hotbed for the pornographic industry! So in the train, instead of cell phone ads you see boobs and numbers to dial if you’re horny.
We headed to a bar downtown – pretty usual scene, except that the Japanese bartenders are kinda cute. And the girls are REALLY outgoing!
That's Erika (left) and some random girls we met.
I bumped into a crowd of Quebecois working for Bombardier in Nagoya. Needless to say I spoke Frrrrrench and discussed the health benefits of la poutine!
I was surprised to notice the non-smoking signs ON THE SIDEWALKS! In some parts of Japan, you can smoke in bars, but not on the street. If you do, you get a fine. And you actually do (policemen here have nothing to do with the ones back home!)
As we left the bar to go get some sleep, we saw a group of Japanese men who looked totally gay to me. No offence; they were just so beautiful, mannered and wearing more make up that Britney Spears.
As it turns out, those were escorts – another big thing in Japan. Actually, the next day was my other cultural shock: a full size ad promoting “being an escort”. Where else on earth would you see that?!
We grabbed a cab and I was reminded that Japan uses the British style – that is, they drive on the other side of the road!!!The cabs in Nagoya are all fancy, black cars. The drivers wear a uniform. And they should because the fare is incredibly EXPENSIVE!!! It starts at 8 dollars and it cost us 45 dollars for a 20 minute ride. Fortunately there were four of us.
Tim’s apartment is typically Japanese: the outdoor looks Occidental but inside there are sliding doors, the bathtub is the size of my butt but higher than my knees, and of course we sleep on the floor – which is covered with some kind of bamboo carpet.
Other than that, don’t ask retarded questions. Japan is one of the leading industrial countries in the world so of course they have refrigerators, microwaves, couch, tv, etc. One thing though – Tim has a kitchen table but, just like in Korea, most Japanese eat at a low table, sitting on the floor.
I was getting really sick, coughing like you wouldn’t believe, so I didn’t sleep well.
The next day we met Jun, this amazing Japanese guy who’s very short but so smart, pretty and kind of an oriental doctor. He’s dating a very annoying British girl whose legs are the size of my wrist. But she’s funny and we had a blast.
That’s when we saw a Japanese castle, on our way to Hadaka Matsuri – the festival of 10 000 half-naked men! There’s a great article explaining this here.
They wait for a little bold half-naked man to come out of the temple. This man is called “shin-ottoko” and he is believed to be the “chosen one”. All the men try to touch him (imagine the claustrophobia!) and if they’re successful, legend has it that they rid themselves of their sins and negative energy.
Every year, 1 or 2 men die in that huge crowd. The celebration takes place all over Japan, not just in Nagoya. The grandpa who escorted us told us he’s tried to touch the shin-ottoko for 50 years but he’s never been able to!
I don’t really know what to say. I was speechless. You NEVER expect to see that in your lifetime.
I forgot to mention that Jun’s friend lives near the temple so his family welcomed us for a meal! I was so sick I couldn’t eat, but I wish I had!
It was a traditional Japanese house – low, sliding doors, bonsai trees in the garden, the backyard connected to another house – where the grand-parents live.
We sat on the floor and the table was FILLED with all kinds of food – seafood, tofu soup, fish soup, vegetables, salad, weird looking traditional stuff. Behind us the stove was heating bottles of sake – thus the incredibly strong smell of alcohol as you walk in the house.
Everyone was joyous and talkative even though we didn’t speak a word except countless “arigato”.
All of a sudden we heard people burst into laughter, as the father walked into the living room, naked except for the loin cloth and sandals (white, look like ape feet!!). He stood proudly for pictures with us, and then ran to the festival. Priceless moment.
At night Tim took us to “Bar 3”, a casual place with couches and a guitar. I was sicker than ever.
The next day was St-Patrick’s! And yes, the Japanese do celebrate it. Why? Just because it’s another occasion to drink from morning til night.
That's Yukari (left), Erika, funny dude, and me.
We passed gigantic street markets where anything you’d ever dream to buy is available at very reasonable prices. Then we headed to the center of the celebration, near a Buddhist temple (don’t ask).
Tim, of course (right), me and Yukari.
A crowd of Caucasians, Blacks and Japanese wearing at least a green piece of clothes was gathered, laughing and drinking.
That was probably the most boring day of my life – I was really sick and everyone around me was drinking and talking shit. Seriously, boring conversations of people bragging about how drunk they’ve been in different situations. Given, I wasn’t in the mood, but our “leader” really really likes alcohol and he and his friends spent the day drinking.
At night the girls went shopping so that was my getaway – even though all I wanted was to sleep or go to the hospital. I was coughing non-stop, dizzy, headache, nausea… la totale!
At the shopping mall, I was once again shocked: the saleswomen were incredibly beautiful and totally sexy, but they looked like real prostitutes! Mini skirts that are no larger than a headband, wearing thick and colourful makeup, the hair must have taken them 2 hours to do… Beautiful, but too much.
I told Erika how I thought Japanese women are sexually liberated, but she made a good point; they are in a way, but they still are just sexual objects to Japanese men. And it’s true.
The shops only carried size 0 clothes, and the underwear stores sold the kind of bras you only find in sex shops back home – gorgeous pink and silver leopard ones, flashy red laced panties, etc. Anything to please your man!
I noticed that every single white guy I saw was with a Japanese girlfriend. It’s much more obvious than in Korea. No comment.
Good point for women though: there is a special boarding point on the subway for women during rush hour. This is because there are so many people; women tend to get crowded and sometimes men sexually harrass them.
The night came and we, of course, headed to a bar. I bore the torture for a while – everyone was drunk by then, smoking in my face as I was trying to spare my poor throat… I just felt like the whole day had been so pointless. Maybe back when I was in high school I enjoyed those, but now I was dead sick and really not in the mood.
The next day I woke up to three wasted guys in the living room, and the three Japanese girlfriends giggling in the bedroom. Everyone had slept with their clothes on.
We took the train to the airport and realized that Japan isn’t AS “foreigner-friendly” as Korea. Most of the signs are in Japanese, and many things are confusing – whereas in Korea everything is so smart and straightforward.
We were like two zombies at the airport. Fortunately our plane was pretty empty so we each got an entire row to ourselves.
Back in Seoul it was raining and I was glad. It was one of those days; when you’re sick and you nap in the afternoon, listening to the peaceful sound of raindrops on the window.
Japan is a great country and I can’t really say much about it because I spent so little time there. And I only saw Nagoya.
Nonetheless, when I think of Japan I will always have that memory of 10 000 half-naked men running around with bamboo sticks. That’s something.
