The Long Trip Home: Archives

It could be my bewildered fascination with the culinary contests of the Iron Chef or the thumping, electronic sounds of Japanese-pop (more commonly known as J-Pop), but in fact, I recall being intrigued by Japanese culture at an early age. I had a teacher in elementary school who taught my class how to eat rice with chopsticks, and he encouraged me to study the written language of Hiragana in my free time rather than playing Super Mario Brothers on Nintendo. While I was at Syracuse University, I studied Japanese politics and was immediately drawn into Tokyo's business culture and how the country has flourished since the end of World War II. Most of my classmates were originally from Japan, and their stories about gloved men pushing people into crowded subways and drunken karaoke debaucheries after business hours convinced me that I had to visit the Land of the Rising Sun at some point in my life.

After spending a couple of hours in Tokyo's Narita Airport for a layover, staring at the snow (during cherry blossom season, no less), I was determined to see more of Japan beyond the duty free shop selling kimonos and Hello Kitty. But like many budget backpackers before me, I was intimidated traveling through Japan because of its expensive reputation. Even though 1,000 Japanese yen is only worth about $8, it seemed like a million dollars to me. Plus, my friends who have taught English in the outskirts of Tokyo and Osaka warned me that barely any English was spoken outside the classroom. Lastly, I was told that Mt. Fuji, Japan's Great Wall, is often obscured by clouds and can only be climbed briefly during the summer.

Despite all this, I finally found a plane ticket back to Tokyo that was cheaper than my college tuition. I researched online for a budget travel agency called InsideJapan Tours to show me the highlights without maxing out my credit card and convinced my college roommate to come along for the ride. Between us, our Japanese language skills consisted of "sushi, sake and sayonara" and our savings only allowed us to buy souvenir chopsticks for our family, but our enthusiasm to explore different cultures on a shoestring was infectious. Japan, get ready for us!

We quickly ducked into the Sony Building in Tokyo's famed Ginza shopping district, hastily stuffed our soaked umbrellas into plastic bags provided by the store, and proceeded to waste away a rainy afternoon rather inexpensively. My traveling companions Raj-Ann and Simon snapped pictures of each other with trend-setting, microscopic digital cameras, as I attempted to "train" Aido, the world's first electronic dog. Well, at least you don't need to curb the pup. Shoppers were challenging each other to a game of virtual golf on Sony Playstation, while I attempted to jot a quick line home on the store's e-mail system. My frustration was apparent to my friends when my "wish you were here" sentiment to my family was automatically translated into Japanese characters. Now, this is how I had envisioned Tokyo—a high-tech mecca of gadgets and gizmos.

The non-stop pace of Tokyo slowed to a crawl as we reached Hakone, a popular tourist attraction due to its close proximity to Mt. Fuji. Alas, our view of Japan's most recognized symbol was a bit hazy in the distance as promised in our guidebooks. We boarded a pirate ship boat that eerily resembled One Eyed Willie's boat in Goonies as we soaked in the picturesque scenery of Lake Ashi. I felt a bit like Chunk, the pudgy hero of the Goonies, after pigging out on Hakone's famous black sulfur eggs. Legend has it that "one egg will add seven years to your life." Looking at them, I got the impression that they would take a few years off my life instead, but hey...you only live once, right? The famous black eggs of Hakone are actually chicken eggs, cooked in the geysers from the former volcano that continues to exert gas today. Just add a little salt, hold your nose, and enjoy.

Continuing along the path of the Tokaido Trail (a famous Japanese trading route during the Meiji Era from 1868-1912), we eventually arrived in Osaka, Japan's very hip Southern metropolis. Osaka is younger, more fashion conscious, and has much more blond ambition than its rival, Tokyo. Osaka is known for its individuality, tough-talking business sense and most importantly, its entertainment industry. Up-and-coming comedians flock to Osaka to share their humor with the masses. Raj-Ann, Simon and I followed the trendy teens and the hue of the Golden Arches to America Mura, a bastion to youth and coolness. As I window-shopped for sneakers and sweatshirts that screamed, "Secaucus Sweet Home." I fainly heard the strains of popular American music in every store. "Wow, this is what America is like?" I thought to myself as I people-watched in the concrete park, munching on a Big Mac and Coke.

Our final destination was Kyoto, the cultural and historical heart of Japan. I was advised by friends who have traveled to Kyoto not to be disappointed by first impressions of concrete slabs and modern buildings—to really appreciate the city's beauty, you need to dig deep. Or aim high, as the case may be. Here you can climb up a steep hillside known as "Teapot Lane" to pay homage to the Kiyomizu dera, the most beloved temple in the nation. For 400 yen (a little over $3), we were scared by ghosts, blessed with good luck and surprised if true love was around the corner—literally. We all needed to remove our shoes to walk through Kyoto's version of a haunted house, but Simon's worries about wearing holey socks were unfounded because we were encompassed by darkness.

After a quick lunch of ramen noodles, Simon and I decided to imbibe from a drinkable waterfall that, according to local belief, can cure the sick. So, why did I have a coughing fit when we walked towards the shinto shrine? Jishu Jinga has long been considered the dwelling place of the god of love and matchmaking. I attempted to take the ultimate test to determine my love life. On the shrine's grounds are two "love-fortune-telling" stones placed 30 feet apart—if you're able to walk from one to the other with your eyes closed, then your desires for love will be granted. Unfortunately, I kept bumping into giggling adolescent girls! I hope that is no indication of what my future may hold!

In the midst of my Japanese journey, I pursued some traditional tourist attractions like Geisha-spotting in Gion, clumsily eating sushi with chopsticks and appreciating (but not understanding) Kabuki theater. I was also able to explore off the beaten path—stalking some sumo wrestlers, witnessing a drunken tourist verbally harass a rickshaw driver, and belting out a sake-induced rendition of Britney Spears' "Oops, I Did It Again" at an abandoned karaoke bar. Although I didn't get shoved onto a Tokyo train at rush hour or a see a breathtaking view of Mt. Fuji, the memories of Japan will stay alive in my memory—well, until I return to create new ones, of course.

Other articles by Catherine Skrzypinski:

• Snapshots of a Scandinavian Winter

• Buy A Vowel

• Tiptoeing Through The Tulips

• Shanghai Surprise

• London Calling, Backpacking and London Spotlights

• Midnight Train to Xi'an, China Spotlight, April 2002

• Take A Bite Out of the Big Apple, New York Spotlight, January 2002