Hiya, Wednesday. As some of you know, I got pretty sick after I landed back here in NY. Some sort of travelers virus but I have been bed ridden and tired and just broke a very high fever...it was scary but suppose it's the price one pays for having so much fun. I hear there was an earthquake in Tokyo about two days after we left, so if the big guy had me miss that, surely this scourge won't kill me? Oh, well. Hope you're all feeling lovely and to my Jewish friends, Happy and Healthy New Year. Here's some more thoughts on my new favorite city:
It’s very rare in life that you get to actually take a journey, and not just a trip. Yea, your college philosophy textbook would beg to differ- that all of life is a journey and that every day is a step on that path. I’m not disagreeing, but most days I feel like more of a commuter than a journeywoman. I shuttle from place to place, task to task, and all the connected points along the way.
And I’ve been many places, and on many trips. But this week was so much more than that- it was a journey to a place I could never imagine, even in my dreams. If you’ve been to Tokyo, you’ll know exactly what I mean. It is a city of great balance and symmetry, but its many neighborhoods recall so many places in my mind- I’ve never been to a city that feels like so many places but is all its own at the same time- Dakanyama, a beautiful neighborhood with upscale and amazing shopping felt to me like Venice or Santa Monica- it was a mixture of wood, glass, and windy streets that had the laid back chic of LA. Then lovely Nakameguro, a magic jewel box of a district whose twilight beauty touched me with its dusky realness. There’s beautiful shopping (all of Tokyo is a serious consumer paradise), great cafes, and a vibe not unlike Amsterdam- its built on a canal and I couldn’t help recall some amazing times on the Prinsengracht many lifetimes ago. The Aayoma district, with its Herzog and de Meuron designed Prada stores (a chic multilevel spaceship with fluffy pink carpet) is like a treasure box for luxury goods- with a quiet elegance that makes you forget you may be spending next month's mortgage payment on your purchase.
And then there’s parts of Tokyo like the famous Shibuya that feels much like New York- its neon lights, enormous streets, and dense crowds are not unlike Times Square. And then there’s other moments in the city, when you’re walking through it and continually having your mind blown, that there’s whiffs of Paris or London. Yet some things feel so uniquely Tokyo- like the incredible alleyway full of bars with 5 seats or less with themes like the Cremaster Cycle. You have to walk through the red light district to get there- full of shady characters (weird dudes with long lady hair) but once you find this little pocket of greatness you feel so very at home, and that the local essence here is way better than anywhere else. I can’t recall being in any city ever that has so much going for it all at once. In many ways, it’s perfection.
And after spending a week there and falling under the spell of Tokyo’s delicate lushness, I realized something about Japanese culture I’m not sure I would have stumbled upon had I not been blessed with the opportunity to visit their country. Everything, and I do mean everything, is about balance, and a deep rooted protocol that keeps everybody honest. As an American, it may seem strange that there are rules for just about everything there- from the way you hand a credit card to the cashier when buying your incense to the way you eat your ramen to the decibel of your voice (Hushed. My favorite part). As you spend time there, you begin to come to the conclusion that all of these things are necessary to keep order, peace, and a respect for your fellow human being.
When you see someone with a mask over their face, it’s not because they’re worried about pollution. It’s because they may have a cold, and don’t want to infect the general population. (One must have slipped away with me, no doubt a fellow Westerner) When someone bows to you, it’s not about being formal. It’s about showing your respect for others. In America, we know nothing of this respect. In New York in particular, I often feel like the chaos and noise is simply deafening. Many times, I find myself, as I turn my key in the door to come home, exhaling for the first time in many hours. I found Tokyo to be bustling, but the sound of silence was one of the most beautiful things I have ever (not) heard, or not heard for that matter. In America, we consider ourselves rebels, and rule breakers. In Japan, there’s 40 year old women walking around clutching blink-eyed babydolls and wearing knee socks, but their manners are impeccable. I think the Japanese are a highly evolved lot- they know that if one person starts paying for things the wrong way or honking horns or talking too loudly, the price society pays is a steep one. If one person screws it up, the balance begins to unravel, and chaos sets in. Oh, hi New York.
I often feel as Americans we are steeped in a rebelliousness that I have always related to, but if everyone is doing things their “own” way and not following any rules at all to help their fellow man and woman find their way, then what good is it?
I guess what I’m saying is traveling 13 hours on a plane may seem like an insane idea, but wow it’s worth it. Every day I woke up with so much gratitude- leaving the western world for a few days is just good for the soul- I’ll never forget the city that rocked my world by getting the balance right, and making my trip there a journey with many valuable lessons. And though I hope to shake this illness stat, I’m not going to shake Tokyo any time soon. Maybe that's why I got sick- coming back to our unbalanced country just threw me right off. What a lovely journey and magic place. Cause that’s what’s up this (hopefully) on the mend kind of Wednesday in the 212. Next few posts will also be Tokyo tinged- from wanting to move into the Park Hyatt to the genius and joy of drinking highballs and why shabu shabu is fairly overrated, at best. XO