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38-7 Ain't Bad
The only place open near the youth hostel at 6:00 AM was the Japanese equivalent of a greasey spoon. You put your money in a vending machine, it gives you a ticket, you give the ticket to the cook. I had green tea and a noodle bowl for an early breakfast en route to the Osaka Dome. Osaka reminded me for some reason of London. I think it was the way the streets looked or the way the subway smelled (it even had a Circle Line, like London). Anyhow, the directions to the Dome said to take the subway to the Circle Line and get off when I see big posters at the station for the Osaka Dome. These directions were sketchy, but all I had. To sooth my fears of being lost in Osaka, a large group of girls (50 to 60) in NFL Osaka T-shirts boarded the train. I figured that this was a sign that God really has forgiven me for all the bad stuff I've done. I figured these young girls were members of the half-time marching band or something and followed them to the game.
To the left is the obligatory picture of the cheerleaders. Instead of sitting in my assigned upper-box seat, I wound up in the front row behind the 49er bench staring at the cheerleaders. Not a bad place to be, however, I wasted 800¥ on binoculars already for the lame seats. It was here as well that I met the Hoggettes.
The Redskins won this meaningless exhibition game by 31 points. Once again, the Japanese were non-plussed about American Football. ("Why do they keep stopping and starting?") As one of the many Americans who made the trip to Osaka for the game, it was well worth it to see what awful peices of our culture are embraced in other countries (McDonalds, Starbucks, Disney, Brittany Spears, Baseball). |
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Other site seeing in Japan: Day one: arrive at Kansai International in the evening. Kanzai is on it's own man-made island in between several natural Islands. At the mammoth-sized airport, I found the standard air-mall, food court, several hotels and train/ subway access. I stayed at the nearby Osaka International Youth Hostel.
Day two was the game. After the game, I made my way to Kyoto and toured some temples, was refused admission to the National History Museum (I DON'T CARE IF IT IS SUNDAY) and booked a space at a Capsule Hotel. Here, I met Brice. I toured some beautifly decorated temples at night and went bar hopping.
I met a group of Westerners playing music on a street corner and joined in on the drums. They were mostly Canadian and American and taught English in Kyoto and Osaka. I stumble into a very scary bar which reminded me too much of a mob-boss heaquarters, so I drank my beer quickly and darted back to the capsule.
My next trip? I don't know yet. There is talk of Thailand in November. . .when is monsoon season again?
-August 7, 2002
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The art of travel: I wanted to go to the Redskin Game in Japan, so I went. I spent nearly 100,000¥ or 20,000NT or $700 US to fly to Osaka, stay two nights, eat and drink well, and see the game.
Instead of watching the halftime show, I staked out a spot near the Redskins locker room door. Poised with my camera, I yelled to future hall-of-famer, Darrel Green to pose for a picture. The blurry mess to the right is the result. . . At halftime, the Redskins were up 14-7. I spent the second half sitting with the Hoggettes behind the Redskins bench. The tribe of Japanese dancing girls from halftime sat with us too -- so they could better cheer for the Japanese guest player with the Redskins. In other words, The Hoggettes (the large men dressed like pigs wearing women's clothing) and I were, dare I say, in hog heaven. . . happier then a pig in sh*t. . .you get the picture. Sad thing was, though, none of the girls knew English. (DAMN)
Here I had a few drinks with a Canadian (who looked like Scot Hasenkamp. . .) named Mark, a Brit named Adam and two Mexican brothers (one was named Ricardo. Sadly, I don't know how to properly pronounce or spell his brother's name). We all compared cameras, played some music, complained about the horror of Squat-and-Drop toilets (to the right) and discussed the standard awful American steriotypes. After a few drinks either Adam became very mad at me or Americans in general (I think there may have been some pent up issue there which we'll never understand) and he stormed off to bed early. (oh well)
