Going to the tri shoppers paradise of shibuya, shinjuku, harajuku on a sunday is an experience out of this world, integral to your stay in Japan. Prepare to wage utter and complete war upon a sea of humanity in the world’s most populous city as you trudge through the concrete jungle in the intolerable swelter. Impossibly so, the  humidity becomes even worse and you ask yourself for the billionth time why you put yourself through the trauma ( validation: zara sale, h&m )  as you exit the train station only to be pillaged mercilessly by an army of tourists armed with cameras.

The entire fucking world is there.

I cursed in disbelief when I saw the insane line outside forever 21. There were security guards outside the 4 storey apparel store, and the line snaked past the next block.  I stood there for a second, mouth opened in pure, unadulterated shock before I was almost mowed over by two harajuku girls. My point about forever 21 is that the situation was absurd, because there wasn’t even a sale going on. And come on guys, its forever 21.

Time is money.

Miraculously, I shoved and pushed my way through the colony of bodies right into h&m. I’ve found that in this economic downturn , and generally the more expensive a store the less the crowd. Zara for example, was significantly less crowded than say h&m and needless to say, forever 21. The number of irritants and squealing high school girls also varies inversely to the price range of the particular store. Burberry was virtually a graveyard, so quiet I had a distinctly kafka-esque moment of feeling strangely trapped in a space warp. Time was made when I stepped out and melted into the deluge of people.

In Asia..

All your senses are invaded upon. Japan for me has become a place where my ears are incessantly abused by random vans shrieking incoherently in Japanese, or the annoyingly loud music that signals the arrival of the garbage truck  assailing my sweet slumber. Or the cacophony of salespeople yelling on the streets for a sale or promotion of some sorts. It is tragic irony that to mask the jarring dissonance of city life, my ipod sings at full volume a euphony of Lady GaGa and Chopin. This abuse doesn’t stop just at your ears. Flyers and packets of kleenex decorated with neon advertisements are thrust into your hand, personal space, face as you walk down the streets.  There’s always a random person dressed in a mish-mash of neon clothing sauntering down the road, completely oblivious to the world and to their hideous fashion sense.

In the busiest cities of Asia, the notion of personal space doesn’t exist.

Aside from my demotivation towards blogging, all is well and alive in my world.

Work really isn’t so hard, most days the only annoyance is boredom and twice a week for 45 mins each, my least favorite person in the whole world.Wait, scratch that. Thankfully my least favorite person in the world has dropped off from the face of the earth and aside from the occasional facebook whine, I hardly ever hear or speak to her. My student on the other hand, is an annoying prick of a problem I deal with bi-weekly much to my chagrin.

Its not that he doesn’t speak. Its that when he does, he has this patronizing tone about him. Shocking really, that condescension from a man who can hardly speak English can transcend through the barriers of culture and language. The way he grins foolishly all the time, viewed initially as arrogance slowly became apparent that it was in fact, stupidity. He seems to not process my words, his eyes glazed and his smile empty. Those are the minutes I dread to come and when they do, they are an eternity. God, I have this crazy desire to want to slap his face but I’m secretly afraid that in a kafkaesque moment it will prove to be rubber and bounce back to and fro, impervious to my every strike.

But then most of my students are sweethearts. One old ( and very rich ) lady who sports a rolex and several diamond rings to class, has her own fruit cake chain of shops. Last week, she surprised me by bringing several little packets of fruit jello which, were SUBLIME. The raspberry tasted like the actual fruit and the plum favored one actually had a little ume in it that was delightfully sweet and not sour at all, unexpectedly.

Another male engineer makes me try harder everytime because of the sheer effort he puts into speaking, writing and living in general. I think he has a mild case of cerebral palsy because he speaks very loudly but not deliberately so and he writes with such concerted effort that beads of sweat would roll down his forehead from the endeavor. Its really an uplifting sight though quite a heart wrenching one because its hard to see someone try so hard to do the near impossible with herculean effort and even more determination, while you sit by rendered helpless on the opposite side of the table. Its like it isn’t wood between us anymore, and instead a deep chasm. Days like these reminds me to count my blessing always. He rarely ever misses a lesson and classes with him are always memorable. When he doesn’t show up, he usually calls. And when he doesn’t do either, I worry.

The third person worth mentioning is a curious young lady who was an au pair in the summer months of Austin, TX 10 years ago. She speaks with formidable english ( at least for a japanese ) and is quite independent in her thoughts. Given the opportunity, away from the social cloister of her husband who forbids her to work ( wth ) , she really would succeed. At times, she is perhaps a bit too outspoken for my liking but then again I prefer unadulterated candor to the stifling decorum of Japanese society.

Work really is quite fun but on my days off ( sundays and mondays ) I sometimes hit the mall. This past weekend was different, instead of loitering around the two malls near my house I actually ventured out ( against my better judgement ) to tokyo! One of the main reasons why I loathe going to the city is its vastly complex train system.Coupled with my  feeble grasp of Japanese, getting lost becomes an urban nightmare. Too many bright lights and too much noise makes the swelter unbearable in a sea of people. I start getting panicky and my heart races. Its like I’m getting a seizure and I start to think that I’m too old for this. Unlike generous Singaporean train drivers, the Japanese do not tolerate fools. In particular, fools who are either late or too stupid to figure out that the train on the platoform is headed to shibuya. So I had to wait 18 more mins for the next one as I helplessly watched my train speed away, feeling terribly stupid.The  trip was worthwhile though. Kudos to Melissa for waiting 40 mins for me and for braving the crazy madhouse that was forever 21 and h&m filled with fashion hungry schoolgirls. To reward ourselves we got 240 yen cocktails at an irish pub nearby. All in all, the retail damage was about 200 USD for 7 awesome items from zara, h&m and forever 21 . The fun of seeing how crazy Tokyo really is, was cheap and the company, priceless.

This past weekend was exceptional, normally I either have chores to run and errands to do or I take it easy with Patrick with a movie on base. Thankfully we have either sundays or mondays together, not two days but one is considered a luxury. His working hours are peculiar and his days off even so. I prefer that to underway though

Sigh. Even the thought of it depresses me because then I’ll come home to an empty house. A beautiful, but empty house. I can’t wait till Curry joins us in Japan sometime in October.

Seriously though even thinking about underway makes me not want to blog anymore. I shall have to plan another trip to harajuku to shop away my misery.