Day 6
Such miserable weather. I wake up because it's so goddamn hot in my room, and I'm out of the apartment by 8 AM. I take the JR Yamanote line to Tokyo Station, but I deem it too hot out to explore the area. During the little time I did spend outside, I was jumping from convenience store to convenience store to maintain sanity.
I eventually make my way over to Yasukuni-jinja and the nearby Kitanomaru park. I was surprised to find such a large temple in the middle of the city, but beyond that I found it rather boring. Maybe it was the heat. Wasting no time, I made it back to the wonderfully AC'ed trains and went to Harajuku.
Takeshita Street was full of Japaneses teens shopping for outlandish clothing. It felt as if all the strange clothes you see people wearing all over Japan came from the shops here. Even more interesting than Takeshita Street, however, was Yoyogi Park. The park was full of young people practicing dance routines, plays, and all sorts of instruments and music all over the park.
When I went, I happened to run into a particular guitar/violin duo. I sat down on a nearby bench to rest my feet while listening to their music and clapped when they finished playing their song. When I asked them if it was a love song (the lyrics were in Japanese, but it sounded like a love song), the guitarist simply laughed and gave me a high five as a response. He introduced himself as Yuma and his partner as Lika. Yuma showed me his book of self-composed lyrics, then played a cover of "Fly Me To the Moon." They didn't have a CD, and they weren't even a real band. They were just two friends who liked to play live music at the park. There's something admirable about that.
Yuma and Lika. If you see them at Yoyogi Park, stay a while and listen. And tell them the bald asian from California says hi!
The warm day had already drained me of my energy so I headed home. I grabbed dinner at local nabe restaurant (the guy at the front said 'Korean-style nabe' and I was sold despite the fact that I had no idea what nabe was). I was the only one at the counter of an otherwise busy restaurant, but the head chef Takeshi kept me company. A chemist-turned chef, Takeshi had also traveled across the world, including a 40-day Amtrak trip across the US, so we had plenty to talk about. He showed me how to eat nabe (delicious) and even treated me to a side of sashimi (delicious and pretty). I regretted not bringing my camera along. Takeshi gave me his contact info and a bag of candy when I left, and I promised to keep in touch.
Hours later I was at home alone, wearing nothing but my boxers, preparing for the next day when someone came home. I figured it was my host, but the person that stumbled in was a drunk stranger, leading to a brief moment of 'uhhhh what the fuck?' She introduced herself as Tomomi, and I put on a shirt. She was a friend of my host's roommate who was gone for the summer (her: "Mister Over." me: "Mister Over? Who's over? Mahsashi? He's over? What?" her: "No no. Mister Oba."). She was nice enough to share a bottle of Smirnoff Ice which she had brought with her (without icing me, I might add). Despite Tomomi's less than average english (I'm sure the alcohol wasn't helping), we talked for a bit before she stumbled to "Mister Oba's" room to pass out, bringing an end to my long day as well.