I slept later than 3am last night, and I was woken up by Mom, who had just come back from the onsen and seemed to have lost her phone.
Okay, I lied — technically, I set my own alarm for 8 because I like to deprive myself of sleep. Or more accurately, I assume at night that I can deprive myself of sleep and still be productive, but then I end up snoozing for two hours, still depriving myself of proper rest and not getting anything done. Today was a rare occasion though, because I was woken up to Mom searching frantically for her phone, and I had to get up right away.
She’d fallen asleep early last night, and while she said she’d get up in a bit and go to the onsen before closing time, she didn’t feel like going when I tried to wake her for it. And I know better than to poke a dragon mid-slumber. I think there was a bit of hesitation too — naturally, there would be some discomfort around the idea of being in a tub naked around strangers, and now that Bua wasn’t there to go with her for moral support, she was probably a little reluctant. But she was still quite resolved to go, so I was sure she’d end up making it in the morning.
She did go, and even came back while I was still asleep, but with a little caveat. Onsens are meant to relax you, but she was panicking.
She said she’d taken her phone in the bag with her towel and makeup, put it in her locker, and when she went to take everything out, the phone wasn’t there. She’d already spoken to the spa reception; they took down her room number and said they’d call if they found anything. She’d gone back in to search everywhere again but still had no idea where it could be.
When she woke me up, I WhatsApp-called her phone using mine, and it said that the call was going through, which meant it was connected to the hotel or spa or mall’s WiFi. Mom insisted her ringer was on, and we couldn’t hear anything around us, so it definitely wasn’t in the room. I hurriedly got dressed and accompanied her back to the spa so I could try calling again from there and we could listen for the ring.
We had to take our shoes off and put them in lockers before being allowed to access the reception. Coincidentally, Mom opened the exact same locker she’d used in the morning to put her shoes in. And there, against the black inner wall of the locker, was her black phone case, perfectly camouflaged. Phone inside. Crisis averted.
It was such a relief, and I’ll admit that before it was found, I was starting to take Dad’s side on the whole ‘maybe staying over and using the facilities wasn’t such a great idea’ argument. In our defence, these were literal spa tickets Onkar hadn’t used. But the more we were noticed, the higher the risk of getting caught, and it definitely wouldn’t have felt worth it if Mom lost her phone forever because of it. But once we found the phone, I began un-regretting the decision again and both our panic levels subsided.
Today was also the day the realization properly hit that I’ve only got three days left here. I Googled things to do in Tokyo and felt glad to know I’d already covered most of the major attractions, and even a bunch of offbeat or hidden gems. One thing I stumbled upon on a list, though — something I’d known about but somehow hadn’t yet considered doing — was watching a kabuki performance.
Coincidentally, Dad (who was currently in Asakusa with Bua, since they’d slept at our own accommodation instead of Onkar’s) and I were figuring out a place to meet up with me and Mom — and kabuki theatre in Ginza popped up. It was only 15 minutes away for them, and we had a direct bus there. There was a show starting soon, and fairly reasonably priced single-act tickets available. Since we didn’t expect to understand much (the show being entirely in Japanese), a single act felt like the perfect length — short enough to stay engaged while still getting the kabuki experience.
The show we got to see was about the unlikely friendship of a wolf and a goat. We even rented a (slightly dysfunctional, but better-than-nothing) tablet with English subtitles so we could follow along. There was a live band in a little windowed nook, playing the background score, and a man sitting at the edge of the stage who dramatically banged blocks of wood against the floor — an integral part of the soundscape.
The actors were all men, dressed as wolves and goats, dancing, somersaulting, flipping forward and back across the stage. It was a fairly low-tech, traditional performance. Not mind-blowing, but satisfying. The old-school theatre, the audience dressed up in kimonos, the atmosphere basically — that’s what we’d come for and that part was on point.
On the bus there, Mom and I passed a massive Buddhist temple. I looked it up, and it seemed worth a visit, so we went there next. Originally, the plan had been to head to Harajuku — Mom and I are the only ones who hadn’t yet gone to Meiji Jingu Shrine and the surrounding forest (even though we went during the last trip 7 years ago, I don’t remember it at all). Yoyogi Park is right next to it, and I’ve heard a lot about it too, so I thought it’d be nice to go.
But Harajuku would take about 40 minutes to get to, and by the time we arrived, there wouldn’t be much daylight left. The park technically doesn’t close, but there isn’t much to do after dark. So we decided to stay and explore the temple (which was much closer) properly, and pushed Harajuku to tomorrow.
I’m still set on trying to cover everything else I had planned. I’ve hastily made an itinerary for the next two full days I’m here, and it’s already packed, but what can I do? I’m finally feeling the not-enough-time crunch, even though I know I’ve been here long enough and done enough.
I’m also trying to accept that no amount of tourism will ever cover everything. Like the Nara Deer Park we missed going to while we were in Kyoto, there will be things left behind in Tokyo, too. I remembered just last night that I’d wanted to go to Aokigahara — the suicide forest — but it’s 3.5 hours away, and now there’s no time. I’ve locked in Kawagoe for tomorrow and Enoshima for the day after. The smaller things like Yoyogi Park, Meiji Jingu Shrine, and some last bits of shopping will have to fit in where they can, and it’s just not worth spending 7 hours commuting for one thing when I already have a full priority list.
We’ve definitely been using time more efficiently since Mama & co. left. Dad and Bua have different interests from Mom and me and we’ve accepted this from the get-go and agreed to do some things in smaller groups to cover more ground — like this morning, they went to a ninja experience while Mom went to the onsen.
At the temple, Bua and I went in first (she once did a course on Buddhism, so she was particularly interested in visiting). There were a lot of stairs, and since Mom had a small suitcase with her (we’d carried it to Onkar’s hotel yesterday in case he needed extra space for the stuff he was taking back), she and Dad waited on benches outside while Bua and I explored.
When we returned, we found them chatting with a Nepalese man who’d overheard them speaking to each other in Hindi and struck up a conversation. He’d lived in Japan for nine years and worked at a convenience store. Unlike most people we’ve met here from India or neighboring countries who are full of praise about the country, his outlook was strikingly different. His son had also lived here for two years and left.
He said Japanese people were like robots — no real emotional attachments, half of them don’t marry, and they’re expected to work themselves to exhaustion. He mentioned having 12-hour shifts with just a two-hour break, and that being even one minute late could cost you 15 minutes’ pay. Then, he went on to the topic of there being next to no public seating, and pointed to a frail middle-aged man with a hunched back nearby who walked unsteadily toward the temple, saying that guards who don’t need to be standing are expected to, just because of cultural norms.
He told us kids are raised in rigid systems that mold them into robots, and that people don’t donate money or share much — everything’s individualistic. He misses his culture and family in Nepal and plans to work here for another four or five years before returning home.
I could see where he was coming from. I didn’t agree with every single point or with the extent of his disillusionment, but his perspective was eye-opening. It made me reflect: all the times I’ve gushed about Japan, maybe I’ve looked past the flaws just as he was now overlooking the positives. Maybe my brother’s overwhelmingly positive experiences and the way he talks about Japan have colored my view. Maybe this man has a similar negative bias outside of his own experiences too.
But I honestly have struggled to find things to dislike here. Racism hasn’t been an issue for me. I love the efficiency, the systems, the safety, the general energy. It doesn’t mean flaws don’t exist, but my feeling about the country won’t change after hearing just one discontented man’s opinion, just like his probably won’t despite all the upsides.
We ended the evening in Shibuya. I meant to work but couldn’t focus. I felt stressed about it, and sad too that the trip is soon coming to an end. I was also sleepy, from last night’s lack of rest. So instead of the izakaya dinner we planned, Mom and I sat down in a Yoshinoya — a Japanese diner chain — instead.
Dad and Bua didn’t want to eat there, as they’re not too keen on the vegetarian options at traditional Japanese places like sushi or seaweed or edamame or miso soup. Despite all my trying to convince them, they’ve practically been living off of bread and cakes, and it was proving to be hard finding common ground for a dinner place today, so once again we split ways.
The contrast between them and Mom really struck me. She’s been up for everything. I was hoping she’d be a good travel partner when the trip started out, and she’s been even better than I expected. We’ve had such a great time together. She was the one who said it first — that she’s going to miss this trip. And I will too. I really hope we can do a girls' trip again sometime. Realistically this was an opportune window that probably won’t repeat itself for a while, but the next trip doesn’t have to be this long — we could just do a 2–3 week duo trip to another country while I still work. I’m already looking forward to it.
Also, realizing that I only have three more blogs to write gave me this weird feeling of pre-nostalgia. I know the next few days are going to get harder emotionally. I want to focus on the positives — that I got to be here in the first place, for this long, in this way — rather than just feeling sad about leaving.
And in the meantime, I want to make the most of every moment I still have left.