So we went to Okinawa, the big Nawa, then Osaka, the big Saka. The big sack a what? So many things in Japan have the name big attached to it, as if the country has an inferiority complex and constantly needs to assert how big it is.
We met up with Masami and the Americans who visited us in Amami for the International Society for Education in Art world conference in Osaka. It was mostly presentations that Theo and I didn't go to, but we did do this art workshop, where we made things out of these corn puff cylinders, which were like cheezless cheetos that stuck together when wetted.
Masami's mother and youngest brother came for a talk she was giving. She also got an award for something. She gave her mother the flowers. I don't know if she knew what was going on.
The conference hotel had this salad bar and dessert buffet, with a chocolate fountain. I had no idea chocolate went with so many different kinds of food. Chocolate does make an excellent salad dressing, in case you were wondering.
There was a welcome party for the conference, which people had to pay for, all-you-can drink and all the hors d'oerves you can eat in 10 minutes before they're all gone. The room was packed with starving teachers, and all the meat, cheese and crackers were gone instantaneously, followed by the vegetables. All that was left were huge platters piled high with kaki peas (a Japanese spicy cracker), potato chips, dried fish, and chocolate chips. Dried fish is not excellent with chocolate chips, in case you were wondering. Masami gave a speech, a soprano sang an aria, and there were some other speeches. The attendees were so loud we honestly couldn't hear anything. I couldn't believe we were in a room full of teachers. I guess teachers can be the worst listeners.
We had a banquet later in the week in the same packed room, with the same setup, except with real food this time (no trays of chocolate chips). Everybody was anxious to fill their plates quickly after the feeding frenzy of the other night, but there was plenty of food this time. There was, however, no place to sit down, so everybody ate their dinner standing up, like we were at a cheap ramen lunch counter without the counter. There was a jazz band, but I couldn't hear anything. There may have been some speeches, too.
I took a break from the conference and took Theo and Max, the son of one of the American students to the Osaka Aquarium. Osaka is the second largest urban area in Japan, and I think everyone went to the aquarium that day. The place was built to move crowds, with its one-way spiral structure. You took an elevator to the top, then spiraled down through the exhibits.
It as crowded as a rush hour bus. We went through this fish tunnel, where all we could see were the fish above us. There were women doing crowd control, screeching directions in high pitched voices through amplified bullhorns. This woman's voice is what all female announcers sound like in Japan. They actually go to school to learn how to talk in this annoying way.
We had to wait in line to see anything and were constantly getting jostled. Theo was seriously bummed and didn't want to see anything. He just wanted to go home. Max, the wild child, just jostled his way into whatever he wanted to see. The second half thinned out a little, so we could breathe.
The kids had fun after, playing in the fountain, until we got busted by the cops and had to leave. Max was actually swimming in the fountain. It was a long, drippy ride home in the subway.
I took the kids to Universal Studios a couple of days later. At $100 for me and Theo, I wanted to get our money's worth and do all the rides. At 45-90 minutes wait for everything, it looked as if it were going to be a challenge. They sold pass booklets that got you to the front of the line for $50. It seemed very un-Japanese. We hit a few rides, the Hollywood Dream rollercoaster with its organ rearranging drops, the Shrek 3-D show translated into Japanese, a water ride. We had lunch at Mosburger outside the park, which doesn't have actual moss in the burgers, but I would ahve preferred moss to whatever was in those disgusting meatloaf type burgers. Thunder started to rumble in the distance and they started closing the rollercoasters down. Ok, I thought, they don't want the rollercoaster to turn into a big lightning rod, so that may be reasonable. But as we raced around from attraction to attraction, it became apparent that all the rides, all the shows, outdoor or indoor, were closed. I couldn't believe that they could shut the whole place down due to the threat of imminent sprinkles and not cause a riot. This could only happen in Japan. Actually, everything wasn't closed. I had to admire the Japanese "can do" spirit in keeping all of the shops and restaurants open in the face of disaster. Not even the threat of dampness can stop the Japanese entrepreneurial spirit.
Outside the park was a whole museum dedicated to the Japanese institution of eating octopus balls on a stick. The one on the sign has legs, which the kind you eat don't usually have. We didn't go in, but I can't imagine what they have there- fossilized takoyaki?
We got free tickets from the conference to an "art" museum (value $10), which consisted of an exhibit on the art of Miffy, the cute bunny. I guess the author of the books is Dutch, but the Japanese love Miffy and have adopted him/her? as their own. You see the lovable fluffball everywhere, on clothing, backpacks, pencil cases, towels, etc. It's like Hello Kitty for people who are allergic to cats.
We changed hotels to join up with a Kyoto bus tour that Masami was on. This hotel had toilets with remote controls. Of all the things you would need a remote control for, I can't imagine this being one. What would happen if you lost it? Just a disaster waiting to happen.
We took the "bus tour" the next day, the one that conference attendees payed $240 each for (including a night at the hotel and meals). It mostly consisted of the bus dropping us off somewhere and the tour "guides" pointing in the direction of museums and points of interest. The bus couldn't even fit onto the street the hotel was on, so we had to parade a few blocks with our luggage to the bus.
We were supposed to meet Masami at the Manga Museum, where she was giving a talk. Her brother drove two hours from Nagoya with his family to see her. By the time we got there, she had gone for drinks. We tried calling her, but couldn't get a hold of her. So we ended up waiting for another 3 hours. Her brother had taken the two hour ride back to Nagoya by then.
(I removed the picture of the family by request of Takashi's wife, who hides her face when anyone tries to photograph her anymore. She looks fine, and probably won't get any better looking, but anyway, I deleted it for her.)
Masami had some more work to do later, so Theo and I went to see the 7,000 fireworks display at Uji, a nearby town. We told some Japanese people that we were going, and they told us that there would be a lot of people there and we would be crazy to attempt it. So of course we hopped on the next train. The fireworks were starting as we got off the train, and the crowd was pressed together like penguins in a breeding colony. I've never seen so many people in one place before. Theo couldn't see anything and was getting seriously freaked out. If it had been anywhere else in the world, people would have been trampled. That's if you could find some space to fall down. Some emergency vehicles did show up later to help people who had passed out, but I don't think anyone died. I thought maybe we could find a nice place along the riverbank to watch the fireworks, but we were stuck in the crowd shuffling wherever the mass of humanity was going. We could half see the fireworks behind us, but we couldn't see where we were going. After about 15 minutes of barely moving, I could see we were still in the street in front of the train station where there was a street festival and people as far as I could see in all directions. We finally found a place behind a fence next to a tree, where we had an obscured view of the fireworks, but at least could breathe. We waited for awhile after for the crowds to disperse, but they never really did. It still took us a half hour to get on the train, although they were running every 4 minutes. The nightlife on the strip in Kyoto seemed like a graveyard after that. I think that we got enough of the Japanese urban experience to last us a lifetime.
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