I had breakfast with Buck, Pam, and Morgan, went to the studio, got bento boxes for lunch, visited Tama, went back, got off at Chofu with Eirini and Kristal, walked with them all over the place including Shinjuku, Harajuku, and Shiboya, and then came back home.
Japan is invigorating. Tokyo on the whole feels tremendously modern, efficient, sanitary, safe, and tidy. Even the homeless, who are seemingly rare and out of sight, live in perfectly maintained boxes with a hole cut out carefully for them to get in and out. They had their clothes stacked neatly beside the box, and they were sitting in the box eating noodles with chopsticks. People walk around with facemasks, both because of concern for getting sick and also out of respect for others if they themselves are already sick.
Presentation is a really big deal. Even small things, like candies, are wrapped and labeled with colorful graphics. This morning I got a sandwich, which came in a cardboard stand, wrapped meticulously in plastic, placed in an attractive bag, and then sealed with a sticker. The environmentalist in me cringes, but another part of me is pleased by these demonstrations of aesthetic sensibility.
Transactions, even small ones, are treated as special. Hostesses bow and thank you when you pay at a restaurant.
Visually, the cityscape is bright and intense, especially Shinjuku and Shiboya. Stores are overwhelming and bright, almost blindingly so. We went into some insane department stores that were 4, 5, or 6 stories high, seemingly had everything, and were overloaded with visuals and cheery.
I played Pachinko in one parlor and some random arcade games elsewhere. The locals kicked my ass on both games, though I'm out of the loop on that stuff, so whatever. It's true about manga--it's extremely common.
Food-wise, my bento at lunch had shrimp, and it was delicious. I got a random happy apple drink from one of the countless vending machines, and it was pretty good. For dinner we went to one of the conveyer belt restaurants and got sushi a la carte. I've wanted to go to one of those for years, and it was a dream to finally make it happen. It's a brilliant concept, because as the food passes, you both get to see it before committing to ordering it, and you also feel like you already have ordered it if you're tempted (i.e., you'll be more inclined to just snatch it if it's in front of you, so it makes sense from a business point of view).
There seems to be significant efforts to create private conditions in public spaces. For example, on the subway, people put in headphones and close their eyes. Few people speak, other than us loud, barbaric Americans. Also, in this bar we went to, each table had a booth that was separated by screens and curtains. You could hear other people but not really see them.