The Reason Andrew Chose This Weekend

**dirty pictures warning**

The event didn't disappoint. I don't need to describe the festivities (the lollys, the radish carving contest, the parade...) as I did that last year, and the photos speak for themselves. I bumped into my old housemate Bruce, which was hardly the tear-jerking reunion films are made of, but it was nice nonetheless. He did confirm something I've been unsure of for a while (next entry).




It's important to remember that while this may be a big joke to us, the shrine does serve as a place to pray for fertility all year round, and is taken seriously by many Japanese. As Frank Mackey in Magnolia sensitively puts it, "Respect the cock".


Aah, the Parade. Listen for the guy at the end; he's obviously been touching up on his English vocabulary.


Some of the larger characters at the festival:



The latter half of the day is much nicer. Too nice to be included here.

Lights Out

Chidorifaguchi, the moat around the Imperial Palace allowed for some eerily impressive sights. This is the best photo we could manage.

And thus, the end of the cherry blossom.

Image Of The Week #78

For the inconspicuous spy in your life, forget the moustache disguise, this one is sure to blend you into the crowd. In all bad shops now, £1.69.

(taken in Kawasaki Daishi Penis Festival - 6th April, 2008)

Breaking News

A series of special EastEnders episodes will see the Mitchell family taking a holiday in Dorset. Plans to send the family to Spain for a dramatic new plot had to be scrapped due to cutbacks at the BBC.

I'm sold.

Problem Solved, Fax Broken

Andrew kindly received the fax through some strange digital encoding device, whereby an email account dresses up as a fax machine and receives the message, by typing it out. Not quite sure how, and Andrew tried his best to explain (everything except hand puppets). Methinks magic is involved.

Anyway, I received the transcript so all I have to do is go over the personal statement once more, and then send it all off. The fax machine is terrible though, they should seriously consider moving to email. And if you do the math, I just scraped a 1st (70.3%). Still, it is what it is.


But more important things to do; the penis festival is nay but one night's sleep away!

Image Of The Week #77

How many?

Manners

This poster is part of the Japan Railways campaign to cut out smoking (and other bad etiquette). It's quite amusing, maybe more so than intended.


The newspaper wording especially makes me laugh.

Fax Off

University Applications - I have my personal statement ready, my referees are ready, everything is ready. Except my degree transcript - the application is all online and I have to include a breakdown of my results as a pdf or word attachment.

The easiest way, for everyone?, would be to email me the transcript. You would think.

I've had the runaround from the Student Records department at Warwick. They're playing hard to get, those teases. They can't send it by email as the 'programme doesn't allow that'. They can only post it or fax it.

Who uses fax anymore?! Fax was a terrible substitute while we the World waited for email. And even if I receive it by post or fax, what good does that do? I then have to scan it in myself.

Now, I've been asked for my address for 'security purposes'. How does my new address in Japan, a long time since I graduated prove anything?

Sorry for the rant, it was a shitty email to wake up to.

P.S. If you feel like sending hateful hate mail - or a fax - here's the email: aotranscripts@warwick.ac.uk - keep it anonymous, I still need their help!

夜桜

Yozakura - night sakura - is a concept I wasn't familiar with until a few days ago. Basically, a hanami party at night. These Japanese, any excuse for a drink, hey! Actually, April is the beginning of the work/academic year in Japan and one of the freshmens' first jobs at their new company is to reserve a good spot for the tarp under the cherry blossom! Seriously, it's important!


So I found out that one of the best spots is back at Yasukuni Shrine in Kudanshita - where the summer festival with all those lights is. Great place, and although it wasn't as crowded, all the food stalls were out. Including baked potato!


The blossom seems to be fighting strong, and as this festival is on all week, it's going to be an amazing way to introduce Andrew to Tokyo on his first night.


I always laughed at the stereotype in the movies that the Eiffel Tower can be seen from any window in Paris. Not breaking the mould, I can't turn a corner anymore without seeing Tokyo Tower.

I'll Skip Lunch

The next morning, we took the first coach South to Phnom Penh. The ride took 6 hours and at £2.50 each, it was a steal. We had to endure the god awful television shows that the Cambodians seemed to be loving; a stand-up variety show which consisted of a man and woman shouting at and interrupting each other - a joke that dragged on for half of the journey.

This sign made me laugh though:

Hmm. Faster!

We stopped at seemingly a shack in the middle of nowhere. It wasn't a town, but there were some women, and their children, waiting by their kiosks for passengers to buy goods. I figure these stops have been created by the bus companies to make a bit of profit. Nothing particularly appetising, so a quick gander round and I was on my way.

Another stop, only about an hour from Phnom Penh, but I stretched my legs. I walked past a group of woman sitting behind baskets of some food or another piled high in front of them. And then I was asked the worst thing I've ever heard in my life:

"Sir, Spider?"

What!???????! The black objects in piles were fried tarantulas, a 'delicacy'. Apparently the legs are crunchy and the abdomen is juicy from the web-making parts, faeces, the babies, and poison. But, at 6 for 50p, what a bargain!

Suffice to say, I was on the bus quicker than you can say 'I'm not a Cambodian, get me out of here'. Eyes (and ears) were firmly wide shut as other passengers meandered past me, carrying bags and crunching down.

I figure they must be cultivating the tarantulas to have so many. In that logic, a few must be on the loose. It makes me feel sick just thinking about it. Crawl on over to this site if you really want to see some pictures and read a verdict. This picture was taken from the saftey of the coach. Praise the zoom.


We arrived at Phnom Penh around lunchtime, and greeted isn't exactly the correct word. Tuk-tuk drivers pushed and pulled. Us, not each other. They were rude, ready to lie to make some money (much like the Bangkok style "That temple's closed today, come to this temple aka the jewellery shop"). It wasn't easy trying to decide what to do with that many people in your face. And with Phnom Penh being the capital, it was dustier, hotter and noisier.

I already missed the charms of Siem Reap.

Indy Jones And The Temple of Beng Maelea

This was the day I'd been waiting for. The long trip away from the city and the (lack of) tourists to THE temple; the one that only die-hard enthusiasts would bother travelling to reach. Of course, no journey should be easy, so how to travel 80km each way? A tuk-tuk that would take 3 hours, at about £20 and fairly comfortable? A taxi for £40, a bit faster, and air-conned? Or a motorbike for just under 2 hours, for £10? But, a motorbike? With the chief rule being 'cheap' over 'safe'* as well as my new found motto to not turn anything down, ever (except drugs)**, a motorbike it was. With Som - a youngish Cambodian with spare helmets - up front, Des in the middle, and me hanging on for dear life at the back, off we sped.

The road out of Siem Reap was mayhem and, yes, it was crazy riding a bike for the first time in my life in a country where there ain't no road rules except 'you' have right of way. But... I loved it. It's the opposite phenomenon to watching a rollercoaster - they don't look so bad from a distance but on them it's insane. On a motorbike, it feels a lot safer sitting on one than watching it go by. Stupid or courageous - up to you.

The ride was long though, and uncomfortable. However, it was worth it for the sights, and the breeze.


The road wasn't so bumpy and had obviously come a long way in the three years since Lonely Planet described it. Still, I don't think these little piggies were in for as much a treat. Off to market they go.



And so did we, stopping at a really local area to let the bike cool down.



The temple was a dream come true and more. Hardly anyone else around, and the advice given by the staff at the exit: There are wooden walkways built around the temple; don't use them. Climb and explore.

So I did.


Beng Maelea, built in the 12th Century, has been consumed by the jungle around it, hardly a wall still standing in one piece. Carvings pop out under the foloage and hanging vines, and doorframes slant towards the ground so that swooping under them or climbing over is the only choice.


There were a few local kids around who were happy to act as tour guides. Never has the term 'like the back of their hand' been so true. Their English lacked somewhat but they made up for it with their outbursts, entertaining us by swinging on vines, sudden attempts to breakdance, and showing hidden corners that it was nearly possible to imagine were being discovered for the first time. They were rewarded.


The best preserved area was a library in the North section, with a creepy dark chamber.


What a place.

*I'm sure that should be the other way around.
**this lease of life didn't last long as I gave it up the next day. You can forgive me when you see the word in question: spiders.

Siem Reap

Siem Reap is a fascinating tourist town. It's one of those places which could be a great study for an urban anthropologist, or the like, with a microscope. The speed at which it's developing is incredible. The people are embracing tourism like there's no tomorrow. It's somewhere in between the fruit seller shacks and the minimarkets. Hotels are popping up everywhere, as are upmarket massage parlours. No fast-food or big brand shops yet, although Nokia and Google are words that feature in the daily vocabulary.

The locals all seem genuinely nice, friendly and helpful. Sure they want to be the tuk-tuk driver or the masseuse that gets paid, but they know when to pressure and when to stop. They also appear to respect eachother so that they don't undercut or steal trade away. This is a logical stable strategy, the reverse of which I'll encounter when I arrive in Phnom Penh.

The Cambodians are being introduced to Western civilisation at such a speed, I'm not sure whether they're embracing it with arms open, or with hesitancy. Either way, it looks like there's not much they can do to stop it.

Maybe I'm reading into it too much, but here's a great example of what I'm trying to express. The week before I arrived, the very first shopping mall opened. There was quite a buzz about it, and although the mall was hardly grand (a small supermarket and some stalls on the second floor), it was gaining attention. In the very first mall in Siem Reap stood the very first escalator. This was the centre of attention; it was simply extraordinary to watch people of all ages attempt to master it: getting on and getting off. Some were laughing, some scared, most riding round and round.

Like a downhill train without brakes, I only hope it's going in the right direction.

(By the way, that day we just chilled in Bar Street, with some delicious fruit smoothies and fruit salad, wrote some postcards - still not arrived?! - and read some books. No temples, just pure observation. Oh, and a fly stuck to my beer in a peculiar way.)

Unbelievable!

I've just heard terrible news. As analog goes out and digital comes in, Tokyo needs a new tower to support this. It's being built up near Asakusa, ready for next year, and will be about twice as tall as Tokyo Tower.


Sadly, as the current Tokyo Tower will obstruct the signal, they will have to tear it down.

Goodbye Tokyo Tower...

P.S. エイプリルフールス！

Excuses

Why no more Cambodia or Hokkaido yet? Because it's the biggest cultural event of the year right now. Yesterday the rain was terrible and a lot of the blossom fell, but it's set to be sunny all week. Hopefully it will still be up next weekend when Andrew (glad you found your passport!) comes to visit. So yesterday, my excuse is, I helped Fiona pack. That experience can be summed down as "You've already got 50kilos in your suitcase, are you sure you need to take that tambourine..?".

Anyway, today was blue skies once more and I couldn't resist. I went to a new area, Shiba Park, next to Tokyo Tower, about 20 mins from my apartment. Actually, I've been there before but it was a bad experience and better left unsaid here.



I can't promise this will be the last cherry-blossom entry. In fact, tomorrow, I'm going to a night-viewing....