indessed roscivs

And without too much drama!

My parents-in-law flew out for a visit this weekend for the first time. Most of my family had been out here already, and several of my wife’s siblings had too, but her parents (typically loathe to travel) hadn’t yet made the trip.

But last Thursday they decided to check out The Rainy City for a couple of days. And rainy it was! Their plane touched down right in the middle of stereotypical grey, rainy, dark weather. Friday was gorgeous, however—blue skies, clear enough to see the mountains from the observation deck of my building, and nary a drop of rain. We managed to wear ourselves out wandering around the streets of downtown without having to carry umbrellas to boot.

Saturday, of course, the rain started pouring again. I’d say it was the first major downpour we’ve had this season. (Not like last season with salmon swimming across the road after days of deluge by this time of year.) The sun, thankfully, came out later in the day, in time for us to take pictures by the Troll Under The Bridge, but it was a far cry from the blue skies of the previous day.

The only minor disaster was the air mattress fiasco. We have a few small air mattresses that we use when guests come over, but I’ve been wanting a double-high, queen-size air mattress for a while now, and decided to get one for this occasion. Upon inflating it that evening, however, we realized that it was only a single-high normal-size air mattress. They had given us the correct box, the correct instructions, and the “correct” price—but the incorrect mattress. The next morning, however, we discovered that they’d given us a leaky mattress to boot! The unfortunate in-laws kept waking up in the middle of the night having to re-inflate.

So Friday morning, the first “sightseeing” adventure we took our tourists on was to the local Target’s returns department. Thankfully they gave back our money with no hesitation, we purchased a replacement, and it was not only the double-high correct-style mattress (the instructions finally made sense!), but it was also completely leak-free. Their following night’s rest was much more peaceful.

But now they’re back home in their own bed, which is probably more comfortable than either of the air mattresses they slept on. Thanks for the visit, folks! We hope to have you back here again soon.

Our first goal was to navigate the subway system. Fortunately, our previous adventures in London made us familiar with the general idea—buy a ticket, go through these machine-gates that eat your ticket and let you through, wander through long hallways, up and down escalators and stairs, following signs with a particular color or shape on them, wait at a platform for the train to come hurtling by, wait by the side as the doors open and people pour out, then hop on yourself (while minding the gap) and hope you can squeeze into a seat somewhere. The automatic voices announce your destination, you disembark (once again minding the gap), wind your way up the stairs/escalators, out through the machine-gates that eat your ticket again (this time not returning it), and up through an exit back into the outer world.

In Japan, the sitation was nearly identical, with the main difference being that there are different privately-owned subway lines, so in some situations you have to purchase one kind of ticket, travel to a transfer point, and then completely exit and re-enter a different subway entrance in order to get to your final destination. This was the case with our trip to Roppongi Hills as there was no direct line from the Shibuya Station, but with some pointing to maps and some basic tourist Japanese, we figured out what combination of tickets and stations would get us to the giant spider.

Riding the subway actually felt strangely familiar; there were people reading manga and playing on their Nintendo DS, just as they might on a bus in Seattle. They seemed blissfully unaware of our presence as they continued in their daily routine. I hardly seemed out of place among the other (albeit Japanese) sightseers on a day trip to Roppongi Hills.

Once we ascended from the depths of the subway and into the harsh sunlight, the giant spider was almost immediately visible at the base of the Mori Tower. We took a few dozen pictures with it until we couldn’t stand the heat any more and started hunting for some air conditioned refuge. The Tokyo City View (the observation deck at the top of the Mori Tower) seemed to be the best bet, so we headed on up. I was impressed that even at the bottom of the tower, you still had a breathtaking view over the city.

The view at the top of the tower was even more impressive—a 360-degree panoramic view of the city. Tokyo was a lot more like what I’d expected London to be—tall skyscrapers as far as the eye can see. It’s like they’d taken the main five blocks of downtown Seattle with the tallest buildings there, and copy-pasted thousands of times out to the horizon. Off in the distance you could see various clumps of very tall buildings, and in any direction you looked, you were still met with tightly concentrated downtown-style buildings.

The other thing that amazed me was, despite the crowded urban feeling that extended seemingly forever (disappearing at last into the haze that hung over the city constantly), green spaces still appeared frequently, whether it was a garden on the top of a roof, or an astoundingly large park. It was a strange but perfect balance between business-like cement and digital screens, and lush, leafy trees and greenery.

The time of year we went to Japan was not exactly conducive to sightseeing. My boss, when telling us that he was sending us to Japan, said, “I’m going next month. No way I’m going to Japan when it’s this hot there!” Typical.

But I was happy to go (for free) at any time of year, so I took the opportunity and ran with it. The temperatures, comparatively, actually weren’t that bad. Well, when compared with where I grew up, anyway. The average high hovered in the low nineties, with humidity through the roof, whereas in my hometown the average high that same week was over a hundred with heat indexes of 110-ish. Oof! So I counted my blessings, despite being spoiled by the beautiful PNW temperatures. (I complain here when it hits the high seventies.)

Regardless, it was not fun being outside; I think nearly all the pictures with me in them have this sort of half-grimace, probably from the heat. So by Saturday, after a week of these grueling temperatures, we decided that for my day off, we wanted to go somewhere where air conditioning was close by. I would have loved to see some Japanese gardens or visited some ancient shrines, but I wouldn’t have been able to handle the outdoor temperatures for more than an hour. So instead, the plan was to go to Roppongi Hills, a mega-shopping-complex of towering buildings, glittering lights, and panoramic views. We had already gotten the idea from tofugu, a wacky little web site that I’d discovered while searching for fun things to do in Japan, which told us of the Mori Tower and a giant spider statue which seemed too good to pass up.

I figured out about halfway through the day that the kanji for “Roppongi” were all characters that I knew: 六本木. The first character is the number six, “roku”. The second character is “hon”, the counter for long, cylindrical objects, and the last character, “ki”, simply means “tree”. (The reasons why these don’t get put together to become “rokuhonki” are too complicated for me to go into at the moment. Suffice it to say, it’s Japanese.) Roppongi, therefore, simply means “six trees”. Suddenly the Roppongi Hills official logo (six circles, one each for the “o”s and “p”s, and two on top of each other forming a stylized “g”) made complete sense. Very clever, Black and Decker!

I’m not much for sight-seeing, but when I first learned that I’d be going to Japan, I immediately thought of the Nihon Ki-in. The full name in Japanese is 日本 棋院 会館, or Nihon Ki-in Kaikan—日本 literally meaning Japan, 棋院 literally meaning “Go institute”, and 会館 literally meaning “meeting or assembly hall”. The “Ki-in Kaikan,” as my Tokyo City Atlas had it listed, is the Tokyo Head Office for the Japan Go Association. It is where the insei study Go, where major tournaments are held, and is in general the hub of the Go world in Japan.

The major reason why the building is so interesting to me (apart from having a cool store where you can buy all manner of Go-related items) is because a significant part of the manga and anime series Hikaru no Go revolves around the Nihon Ki-in. In a way, I was stepping into the magical world of Hikaru.

When we first found the place (after taking pictures of the outside), we were looking for someplace I could play a few games. At first, we poked our head inside a room on the first floor that had dozens of boards but only a handful of people all huddled around a pair of boards, talking in Japanese with books in their hands. None of them acknowledged us, so we just stood at the door for a minute until I realized that this wasn’t a public area, but rather a place where inseis studied, so we quickly retreated.

We then headed up the elevator to the second floor (trying to decipher the kanji-laden directory), and discovered what appeared to be an information desk of sorts. “日本語が わかりますか?” the lady at the desk asked. “いいえ、すみません、” I responded, “英語が わかりますか?” She motioned and a younger lady came over and asked, “Can I help you?” in impeccable English. I told her I was looking for someone to play, and she explained that I’d have to come back on a weekday as they don’t have regular club play on the weekends. I thanked her, watched a few of the people playing, and then spent some money at the bookshop. (I bought an English book on joseki, a book of blank kifu for writing down my own game records, and a couple of Nihon Ki-in pens.)

Then we went exploring, trying out each floor of the building one by one, poking our head out of the elevator to see what we could see without being too nosy. On one of the floors, a couple of very young kids (probably younger than ten) were getting into the elevator. I’m sure they were insei, and could probably kick my butt at Go. I can only imagine how surprised they must have been, though, to see a couple of American gaijin on the elevator. That’s probably not something they see every day at the Nihon Ki-in!

The coolest floor was where, in Hikaru no Go, the insei study and the pro exam takes place. (I’m not sure how much of that actually takes place there in real life.) It was amazing to see how detailed the anime was in depicting the place. It was instantly recognizable, and even now when I compare the pictures we took to screenshots of the show, I’m astounded at how much detail was captured.

I’m glad we took time out of the one day I had for sightseeing to visit. It was definitely the highlight of my stay.

今日は　日本に　いきますよ！

さよなら！

I’ve put together a little collage that combines many of the memorable experiences of our London trip together.

(Click on the thumbnail for the full-size image.)

It looks like I’ve finally managed to shake the jet lag—this morning I woke up at 7:30 and was actually tired! Hoorah!

Unfortunately, I foresee this trend continuing, where I stay up later and later typing away on this computer thing until I’m going to bed at 4 am and waking up at noon. Will jet lag turn into anti-jet lag? Only time will tell …

Thus far it doesn’t appear like today will be much better. I woke up at 6:30 am, and now that it’s a quarter ’til nine, I feel like it’s way past my bedtime. (There aren’t even any hockey games left to keep me up.)

We went searching through the kitchen to find some sort of caffeine to keep me awake as long as possible (maybe I’ll even make it past nine-thirty!), but unfortunately, there was no coffee or tea (except herbal) to be found. The most caffeinated thing we have in the house, apparently, is some Swiss Miss hot chocolate. So I made a couple of cups of that—we’ll see how long that lasts. Already I can feel my eyelids drooping …

I’m having a bit of trouble re-adjusting to local time after being in London. The first morning after we got back, I woke up at 3:00 am. I tried several times to get back to sleep, but I just wasn’t tired in the slightest. So, I got out of bed, and started going about doing stuff around the house. By six o’clock I was annoyed that the sun had still not yet appeared.

I got to work a bit after nine, which is not unusual in general—what’s unusual is having been awake for six hours by that time.

That night, Vancouver was playing their first NHL Stanley Cup Playoff game, so I figured that would be a good way to keep me up later than I would normally have gone to bed. The game started at 7 pm, and by first intermission I was already yawning. By second intermission (around nine) I didn’t know how I could stay awake any longer.

Vancouver had an early lead, but in the third period they gave up two goals and Dallas had tied the game—this meant overtime. And not five-minute overtime like in the pre-season games—a full fifteen minute period of sudden-death overtime. And if nobody scores in that overtime, it would go on to another one, and another one, etc.

After five minutes of the first overtime, I’d decided I’d had enough—there’s no way I could watch the rest of the game. It was already a quarter past ten and I was about to keel over from exhaustion. The next morning I checked the result—Vancouver had won! But it had taken them four overtime periods to do it. The game had gone on from 7 pm until past midnight. I’d never have been able to stay up for all that!

This morning wasn’t much better—6:22 am. Hopefully I can adjust more on the weekend?

I’m not the kind of guy who can’t take vacations, who has to be working at every moment of every day. I can certainly appreciate some time off and spend it relaxing, successfully forgetting about the papers piling up on my desk back in the office.

But I’m also not the kind of guy who can be without a job for very long. If I didn’t have a job, I’d probably go insane quite quickly, even if all my physical needs were adequately taken care of. I simply need to be doing something productive. So yesterday, when I got off the bus and headed up to my office building, I was practically skipping with sheer delight of being back—back to the daily grind, the fun coworkers and the inane coworkers, the office politics, and everything else that “work” means.

Of course, it will only take a few days before I’m once again back in the routine, no longer with a big smile on my face as I enter cubicleville one more time.