What the what, Japan?! (Part Two)

You might recall my mention of 7-11 in part one.

Well, before going to Japan, one of the kids' teachers, Mr. Felt (perhaps the greatest highlight of our JFK experience here in Berlin--a great, great teacher--an all-time favorite, already), invited us over for tea. Mr. Felt had taught abroad in Japan at the beginning of his career, and ended up marrying a Japanese woman, with whom he lives here in Berlin. (I do hope to tell you more about our experiences at school in Berlin, but that may not happen for another year or so. But Mr. Felt definitely deserves a mention here on the family blog...). Anyway, at the tea, he and his wife helped excite the kids for their trip to Japan. He told them (my biggest takeaway): "I'm excited to hear about what you didn't plan." Essentially, stay present--and open to what's happening around you. An example of this, he said, was 7-11. "You won't believe how good the food is in 7-11." Well, boy, did my kids take that to heart: our top-voted meal of our Japan trip was NOT 7-11, but 7-11 was easily the place at which we ate the most. The boys, in their obsessive 14-year-old way, could hardly pass one on the street (--and they were everywhere) without thinking that, actually, they might be a little hungry. Ha! For myself, I am glad to say we had more and better food highlights than 7-11 plastic wrapped sweets, fluffy buns, and rice balls, but the spirit of which Mr. Felt spoke--the idea of staying present, rather than always rushing off to what's next--it was a big part of why Tokyo was such a blast for us.

The kids, for instance, figured out that on the train, you could spin one row of seats around in order to face the rest of the group you're traveling with. On our way to Tokyo, our group did that. No, we didn't talk to each other, but I did enjoy seeing them so engrossed in their books.

Suzy and I found another Ryokan place, but this time with a shared bathroom.

(A quick note on bathrooms. There are a lot of things to love about Japan, but I think Suzy loved nothing half so much as Japanese toilets. Heated seats. Built in bidet. Even chirpy bird noises to help cover what Mikey Rudolph calls the sounds of nature.

Ahhh. And I'm not kidding, one time a green light came on when you opened the door, and the toilet lid lifted as if to welcome you. Seriously, here's a video of it--at our favorite breakfast joint in Tokyo.

Suffice it to say, when we get back to Colorado, redoing the toilet is a top priority.) Anyway, our time in Tokyo started with Ramen. Scout found the joint and it was delicious--best ramen I have had (--admittedly, not much competition here, but it was good, especially the sweet red chili condiment).

Then we hit Shibuya. This is the shopping district with that world-famous crosswalk--2500 people crossing at once during high season.

We crossed it, walked up a lane filled with Taylor Swift music and posters (her concert was in town), and landed in Donquijote (an everything store), where Scout bought every different kind of Pocky and Kit Kats you can imagine (--she was getting gifts for friends back in Germany). We were pretty tuckered out--a lot of people, lights, sounds. Charlie, especially, was off kilter (he, ironically, did not much like the ramen from earlier, and hardly ate any of it); so we headed back to our place for another night's rest. The next day, we went to Team Lab Planets, which bills itself a museum where you become the art.

Look it up. (It is a bit like that "Immersive" Van Gogh exhibit next to Meow Wolf in Denver.) Basically, there were all these different rooms with interactive displays. It's not an amusement park. It's a museum, and though we saw a couple of others predictably scolded, my three were just trying to "immerse" themselves.

Another colleague recommended it to us. I thought it was pretty cool, but Charlie and Kiefer loved it. At their request, they and I went through it a second time--the whole museum--A SECOND TIME, and I loved that!!! Scout and Suzy, meanwhile, went to find something to drink, and came upon their own wondrous spectacle: a dog cafe, where the owners strut their ridiculously plumed up poodles--puffy vests and, you guessed it, diapers--Doggy Diapers.

A Buddhist temple, an electronics store, where we played Mario Cart for a moment, and we were ready for dinner. Not just any dinner, but the one: the best of the trip, another sushi conveyor-belt, recommended by our new friends Sam and Lauren (who lived in Tokyo before coming back to Berlin). Oh, man, was it good.

Suzy and I were particularly taken with the seared salmon nigiri with a square of butter cream to top it off--to melt into its folds. That was my desert, too.

The other four had room enough for Baskin Robins (--I didn't, but ate it anyway--like a true-blue American). But out of the five of us, that sushi earned four votes (--Charlie stuck with his Okonomiyaki from Hiroshima), and now it even vies with our top five meals in Europe. Day three sent us, after another stop at our favorite breakfast bathroom, to the Tsukiji fish market.

From there, we checked out Ginza (for some souvenirs and books), and then we went to the Skytree.

Actually, it was all sold out until after sunset (apparently, Fuji was visible that day), so we walked to the big shrine in the center of Tokyo, which was cool, but also crowded.

When our time-slot for Skytree came, we left Suzy on the ground floor (--she is scared of heights--and claustrophobic--there is no way she would have survived that elevator) and then we took in the cityscape at night.

Unfortunately, by the time we came down, they had kicked Suzy out of our meeting place, so we had a little trouble finding her. But we did, and then we asked a young lady to take our picture, with the help of her hilarious friends.

Our final day in Tokyo came to us because Suzy and I, way back in the fall, could not find a flight that left Narita until 11:00 PM, and at first, we all felt sort of played-out. Tokyo--Japan--was everything we could hope it to be, and more, and different, and wonderful, but we weren't sure how to fill our last day. Suzy and I went on a run in the morning (--perhaps our favorite pastime these days), and then we set out for a plum tree festival

(--something of a precursor to the cherry blossoms--and, really, nothing by comparison), but on the way, we became lost. We ended up in some market, shopping for cheap Adidas. Scout, Suzy, and Charlie, each got a pair--

Kiefer is holding out for a pair of Sketchers--which he loves conceptually--just like his old man (--and like Papa, too)...

Anyway, it was exactly like Mr. Felt said, we were having a ball, laughing and talking, walking--trying to find our way without failing to recognize we were already securely on it--together, chasing dreams, lost, and just being present. We did finally get to the festival, but it was what happened afterwards that I loved the most. Charlie said, "I want to go back to Shibuya." "Again?" I asked. He said, "Yeah, I wasn't really in the right state of mind when I was there the first time." Since we had time, we did it: we went back to Shibuya, this time with a sense of familiarity and a reminded comfort and contentment of company that is never too hard to find when we are together. Oh, and we ate lunch there, too.

The time came to go, and as we rushed across that crazy crosswalk, Charlie and Scout pointed up to a building on the right, and they said, "That's where Mr. Felt used to work." Ha, is that right? I imagined him looking down upon us--upon our whole trip from up there, and I felt certain, he was smiling.

Another stop at 7-11 to stock up on some long-flight treats, and satisfy our pavlovian "needs,"

and we headed back to Germany. Verdict? Great trip, all five of us agreed. Totally worth it. But Kiefer even went one step further: he said he can see himself living in Japan one day. You know what, my man, keep the possibility alive. You never know...