Gumbusters!

A common sentiment about Tokyo is how darn clean it is for the amount of people that live here...the main reason is of course the Japanese citizen who is inherently respectful of their surroundings and just don't litter. The subway has fabric cushion seats and is immaculate. Imagine cloth seats in NYC? Right...The 20 second rule could possibly apply here for dropped food. But then you wouldn't be eating food or drinking your coffee on the Metro, it just isn't done. Once I had some Chicken McNuggets and was about to give them to Conor on the subway but decided not to get semi dirty stares.  Also, there are no trash cans on the road, thus one has to carry their trash from place to place. One day as we were having some coffee at an outdoor cafe, I discovered the reason why there are no gum marks on the sidewalks. Two men dressed in Gumbusters uniform were busy steaming the sidewalk and removing any remnants of chewing gum. They were gum busting for a long time and the work ethic of the Japanese really impressed me.  I mean let's face it, Gum Busting isn't a glamorous job, nor is pumping gasoline or being a grocery clerk, but people just don't seem to have a chip on their shoulder but instead, do their job respectfully.  I wouldn't mind importing that back to the sales staff at Babies R Us at Union Square in NYC.

Shibuya

For the past week, my sister and mother have been visiting and they have brought the rain! Usually the weather here is so predictable that the weatherman can tell you the exact date rainy season will end and summer will begin. I think this week of heavy rain is very unsual; but we managed to get out to see a few sites. One of them is Shibuya, which is sort of like Times Square and Lower East Side together. There are many teeny boppers, girls with teased blonde hair and fake eyelashes. There is an 8 story mall devoted to teeny bopper slasher wear called Shibuya 109; I think every store looks the same. My sister got tricked into buying a few overpriced T-shirts with weird writing and holes cut out in the back. This video of the six way crossing, which is insanely crowded yet also orderly, is courtesy of my sister from the vantage point of the second floor Starbucks. There is no jay walking here (except by me). How would you like to lose a child in this crosswalk?

Tokyo Tower

Last Friday, we went to City Hall to update Glenda's address on her ID card. Here in Japan, all residents have to register with city hall when they move into a new area. And even when you change residences within that area, it is your civic duty to report to city hall and update that information on your alien card.  All so strict..anyway, we lucked out on this field trip as City Hall is right next to Tokyo Towers. This is a red replica of the Eiffel Tower. It soars 330m in the air and on a clear day, one can see Mount Fuji from the observatory at 250m. We only made it to the 150m deck and it was still quite a view. One really appreciates the sprawling nature of Tokyo.  Conor enjoyed looking through the glass floor plate at the little cars down below.  In true Japanese style, we were greeted by the mascot, Noppon, a 2m 23cm tall pink THING.  He's actually a twin, but his brother was nowhere to be found that day. I'm not going to make any obvious comparisons to any male body parts nor am I going to comment on the fact that the PHALLUS twins may represent some repressed sexual undercurrent in this society. In any case, Conor wasn't thrilled to be photographed with THINGIE whereas Aidan reached out for a big high five.  To top off the morning, we were treated with a monkey street show at the foot of the tower.  Now that's a complete tourist experience. 

First Tremor

Today my Japanese teacher came over to the house for our twice weekly lessons and Conor was crawling all over me, demanding the pen and wanting to write all over my Nihon-go book.  Typical  toddler insanity, hardly an environment for learning, especially now that the language lessons are getting more difficult and I need every brain cell possible to remember all the conjugation forms. So I sent the kids packing to the park, stat. I could hear Conor screaming all the way down the driveway. Joy. Now, all peace and quiet as we dig into our books again, seated in the dining room.  A few second later we heard some rumbling upstairs. Odd,  I thought to myself, the kids aren't upstairs. I could have sworn they left. Then the china cabinet housing about 40 thousand (seldom used) wine glasses started to rattle. I looked at my sensei and asked, "Earthquake?" She nodded, "I think so." More rattling.  She motioned, "Let's get under the dining table, it could get worse" Yikes! So, there we were, huddled under that huge 8 foot slab of rosewood (which sensei noted later was very good for earthquake, which was not what I was thinking when I purchased it from Holly Hunt). So in that panicked moment (in reality 15 seconds, but thoughts fly quick when you are huddled in fetal position) I thought, Am I going to die right here under a table while learning the TA form of  TO SWIM (Oyoida, btw)? And where are the kids? Are they safe? It turns of course that while you are walking outside, one of course doesn't even feel a tremor of this size, but, believe me, I felt this one. So when it was all over, the sensei went right back to verbs, and I was sitting there, a little dazed. Hello, I just felt an EARTHQUAKE. I guess these things are not that uncommon, we do live on an island surrounded by volcanoes after all. Better pack my earthquake bag like a good mommy/citizen.

Little Aidy

Recently we were stuck in some really bad traffic on the Tomei heading to Shimoda, I mean total dead stop, fun stuff... so Glenda, our nanny, put a scrunchie into Aidan's hair for a laugh. She always says he is so pretty, he could be a girl.  Hmm, he could pass for an Adriana, I thought.  When I was pregnant with Aidan, I thought it would be so nice to have a girl. Boys are so physical, rough and loud. Wouldn't it be nice to have a little girl who sat there and listened, quietly combing her doll's hair?  This is probably my own fantasy as any girl I would ever have would probably tear the house down.  In any case, Aidan is here and I couldn't imagine it any other way.  He is just the sweetest little angel. He has a little impish smile that makes you want to bite his cheeks (there is plenty to bite).  He loves to hug you tight when you are cuddling him.  When he is placed in his crib at night, he turns over on his belly, does a few butt thrusts and crawls towards the corner to bury his head. His laughs are hearty and he has a playful spirit; I get a sense he is going to be a funny little dude.  It's true what they say- the second child sadly gets neglected and is not showered with all the fanfare of the first, but I am going to make every effort to get some Aidy quality time in there.

Missing Pooh

Lately, Conor has been obsessed with his little Winnie the Pooh that he took off the cover of an ABC book my sister had given him last year.  For a year, he didn't glance twice at that little yellow bear but since we have been here, it's been all Pooh, all the time.  Pooh goes to the bathroom with him, is set aside on the sink for pee and poo. Pooh goes to bed with us, Pooh comes on car trips, real ones and fake ones. The fake car trips were designed to get him to drink his new soy milk, which took some encouragement to say the least. For some reason, being in the car with Pooh made the milk seem delicious.  In the house, not so tasty.  Pooh was very helpful in these moments. The above picture is Pooh's last sighting captured on my Iphone, because, yes folks, sadly Pooh disappeared somewhere in our neighborhood during our afternoon stroll today.  I had this strange feeling when we headed out, as I saw Conor clutching Pooh and several other items, that he wasn't going to make it back. And when that moment became reality, I panicked for missing Pooh and left Conor with our nanny and circled the Hiroo neighborhood like a chicken with it's head cut off. No luck.... Conor has been asking for "Winnie the Poooooooh?" tonight so we found a new little substitute bear about the same size and cut off the present he was  attached to in attempts to make him look more like Winnie. We gave him a cute name, Toby the Teddy. Conor gave him a few kisses, and now he is laying on the floor abandoned.  Novelty over, he wants Winnie back.  I do too, may have to send out another search party tomorrow.

Shimoda

Just before we moved here, the boys and I spent the month of June in East Hampton. It was an idyllic time as June is a quiet month out there before the real rush of the summer. So to ease my transition here, Paddy decided to rent a summer house for us (through internet photos) from July to September at a beachside town called Shimoda. I was forewarned by Paddy that "this was not the Hamptons"....what, you mean no Tiffany on Main Street and Nick and Toni dinners?  So I really set the expectations bar low so not to be too disappointed. Our first weekend there we took the train which took about 3 hours. The boys loved the train, as did I, as you could look out the window and see the seaside towns nestled in at the foot of the mountains. We rented a car next to the train station and drove to the house, about 5km away (which funny enough was right next door to Paddy's old friends, Jane and Paddy Maloney, an Irish couple who had been living in Tokyo for 10 years).  The rest of the weekends we have driven to Shimoda and it is quite a drive of opposites taking about 4 hrs.  The first half is on a major highway called the Tomei Expressway and the second half is through the mountains and tunnels where, at times, literally only one car can fit on the narrow windy road.  At one point, there is a circular bridge which takes you down quickly into the valley.  This half of the drive I have dubbed the "underwear staining" portion and don't allow Paddy to drive that part yet.  By the way, I used to think the Midtown Tunnel was pricey, how about $37 for the Tomei (one way).

My first impression of the house was that it was, in it's hey day, a very cool Japanese pot smoking, party house. There were posters of Bob Marley everywhere, along with babyblue and beige 80s leather couches.  My second impression of the house was that it was the most child unfriendly house ever built (by pot smokers).  There is a professional grade oven that has gas valves on the front right side in bright yellow, screaming to be turned 90 degrees by a toddler. It requires a flame to light that is attached by rubber tubing on the left. (See death stove oven photo). Needless to say, we roped the kitchen area off immediately, but those monkeys keep finding their way in and make a beeline for that stove! The dining room has a low Japanese style table with a rectangular hole cut out for your feet, so perfect height for head injuries and then a hole to fall into.  Oh, and there is "stadium seating" of two levels built in all around the first floor glass windows (instant jumping jungle gym area).  Moving onto the second and third floors of the house, the toddler death trap continues. There are open air steep staircases that look down to the living room with gaps wide enough for a child (and stoned adult) to go right through. Think of the house like a Japanese ski lodge and you can get an idea of the layout. So again we had to barricade the upstairs railing but the initial open staircase is designed such that you can't really surround it.  At night, we all sleep together in one of the tatami rooms on futons because I am afraid Conor will go wandering around at night. Oh, and did I mention the deafening sound of crickets outside? I almost feel like they are going to invade and eat us.

Ok, so that's just the house and we haven't even made it to the beach.  I would call the area "rustic", like Japan meets Jamaica. The main beach, while it has a nice stretch of beautiful water, is barricaded off from the street by a 10 foot wall of concrete. A friend had said there was a little snack shack called Sunnyside right on the beach where you can eat and watch your kids so I imagined a place right on the beach, but sadly, it's on the other side of the barricade. On the beach, there are many surfers and boogie boarders and kids in tubes floating in the water, all packed into a small area where zealous lifeguards are constantly screaming into a speakerphones.  I am amazed at the size of the tents that the Japanese pitch up at the beach, one could host a small party underneath there. And lord knows what hour they start, because even when we hit the beach at 9am, it is already full of tents and umbrellas.  And while it is supposed to be cooler since we are away from Tokyo, the heat is still pretty intense and I wish I had SPF 100.

Last weekend, the boys and I and our nanny Glenda came down early on Friday and arrived at the beach at 6pm.  There were maybe 10 other people there and it was such a refreshing change from the weekend scene.  It was the first time that I actually thought it was kind of lovely.   Listen, it still isn't the Hamptons, but we'll keep coming back.  "Rustic" is growing on me.

Akihabara

One day last week, our multihead DVD that Paddy purchased just before we arrive started to act up.  It would only open and close no matter what you pressed. This was quite distressing because not only does Conor's mealtimes revolve around Shrek and Little Einsteins, this would mean I would have to venture to Akihabara to exchange/return it (with no receipt and no Japanese). Akihabara is like Times Square of Electronics. Bright flashing lights with shouts welcoming you into the stores.  I almost opted out for just buying another DVD down the street.  But, today, armed with a sense of adventure and Conor as my bargaining power, we got into the subway to venture the 13 stops from Hiroo to Akihabara (one line, thankfully). The subway system here is worthy of it's own entry as it is soooo clean and efficient and the best I have ever seen. But I digress...it took 18 minutes and Conor clung to me the whole ride. We exited at gate 5 as instructed by Paddy, and took a random left as I felt that was where the action was...and after wandering a bit, we found the store Laox.  We got on the escalator, and found that each floor had a different toy theme- Playstations, electric cars and trains, etc. We must be at the wrong place but made a pit stop on floor 4 because it was an electric miniature train wonderland that fascinated Conor (and many other older teenagers and men).  They had replicas of all the different trains with some vintage ones, even I was fascinated.  I finally called Paddy and discovered that there were three Laox stores in the area! I managed to get out of there without having to buy anything by bargaining with Conor that he could press the elevator button.

So off we went to find the other Laox, with TVs and DVDs and about any other item that has a plug. I went to the counter and pulled out my lame DVD and tried to explain what was wrong, showing Paddy's Laox membership card. They plugged it into their TV, switched the "zone" and voila, it was working. Hurray! Not so hard..worth the trip. I decided we should celebrate by visiting yet another toy floor at this Laox, and Conor immediately found himself a Shinkansen (Bullet Train) set and wouldn't leave until I actually bought the set (which I was going to do anyway) and unwrapped one the trains while dangling it by an open elevator. He was one happy little boy with his Shinkansen and I was one happy mommy as we sat at the sushi bar and later rode the subway back...

Until I got home and plugged the DVD in and still saw a black screen...ARRRGHHH.  Bang head on wall moment. I eventually called them (twice) and had them guide me through various buttons to press (not intuitive). The first time I got picture and was so happy I hung up prematurely and realized I had no sound. On the second phone call, I was informed I had to go to Audio menu, under Dolby Sound and change from Bitstream to PCM....ooh, is that all? 

Anyway, all is well..and the boys were dancing to their Baby Noah and I realized that you can actually get things done here even with the language barrier.  It is frustrating, but it teaches one patience.

Fancy Fruit

I had heard that Tokyo was an expensive city, but one of the most outrageous things is the price of certain fruit! I had told a few friends back in NYC about this and how much I miss those streetside vendors, but this is worth sharing with the group. That musk melon is $106, and that's not even the most expensive one at the store (top end melon $126)Ok, so I happened to be in a fancy Japanese supermarket catering to the very rich Japanese, but this is over the top. The mango is a steal at $80.  These are generally given as gifts to the sick in the hospital or when you have had a baby (please give me a plate of sushi and champagne instead if I ever have a baby here).  A friend here says that she waits for the melons to get very ripe and then the store splits it in half and sells it for a fraction of the original cost. My question is, when does that day come? When do they really know if someone is about to walk in the door and shell out all that money or do they let that melon almost rot and then chop it in half? And at that price I shouldn't be able to fondle it and take pictures without charge.

Vending machines

One of the real conveniences I've discovered here are the many
vending machines on virtually every street. It comes in handy when
it's 100 degrees. They sell water, power drinks, many flavors of iced
tea for about 120yen ($1.20). There are also cigarette and beer
machines too and only recently did one need an ID card to purchase
something from one of these. (Young Japanese seem to like a smoke or two and it's still allowed in restaurants.) Although I haven't seen it yet, I hear there are machines
that sell fruit and even underwear! (More about fruit later)

Viva La Vida

This is a quick posting of the lads dancing to Coldplay's latest in the living room. Since Aidan has started to walk in Tokyo, we are on constant watch for headbanging (not the dancing kind). Unfortunately, he took a header into the doorframe the other night while I was on the phone with my Mom. Guess who I blame?

My First Blog

 Hello from Tokyo! Well after a month here, we are all just settling down now...the furniture is unpacked, the thousands of photos arranged and rearranged, the paintings nailed up.  And since I am not working (yet), I have decided from the advice of many of you out there to start a blog. I have had some wonderful, nerve wracking and bizarre encounters already that this serves as a way to all keep us connected.  And of course I will diligently post pictures of the boys who are growing like weeds!

The name of the blog, "Hello Tokyo" comes from Conor.  Every morning, he opens the drapes in our master bedroom (yes, he sleeps with us) and screams out, "Hello Tokyo" to the skyline of buildings in the Hiroo area.

Above are the main Protagonists, Aidan, aka Godzilla, and Conman, Chicken Nugget Connoisseur! And the last picture is of the boys in front of our house, the door of which is always open for visitors.  Bed already made and waiting.