Going to the Park

Woah, this is actually reaching back into my memory bank about two weeks. Bear with me folks, I’ll probably be a little hazy on the details. Here we go:

The OYRangers wanted to spend some time together, but Tokyo doesn’t have many places where people can just “hangout”. No, there seriously isn’t. You have restaurants, houses, businesses, temples, and ramenyas, but no one spends extended periods of time there. There is Starbucks, but they are so small, you can’t fit many people at the same table or be there for the whole night. In order to have some open space to ourselves, we decided to do some exploring and go to a park instead. Someone had heard that there was a lovely park in a nearby city, but once we actually got to the city and looked at the local maps, we noticed that the park was only as big as someone’s front yard. We were hoping for something a tad more spacious or at least big enough for a picnic. So we walked ALL THE WAY to Shinjuku (see photo album) where we heard that there was a national park. We spent more time on trains and on foot than actually at the park. Not “national park” like Yosemite, but more like "national garden" I guess. It had lots of organized garden areas, chrysanthemum beds, a tea house, lots of lakes and fish. Now, in theory, we went to the park to study together, but although we did open up our textbooks, not much studying got done. Instead we ate a lot of junk food, talked, and had a great time. CJ even had some fun.

The good times came afterwards, though. Typical Japan, the park closed at around 5, so we were left with nowhere to go. So we decided to head back to Kichijoji to one of the boy’s houses for dinner. After stoping at Tokyo Hands® in Shinjuku (see another post) we all hoped the train to Derek’s. On the train, we were debating the fastest way to get to Kichi, when a Japanese salaryman jumped into our conversations with some helpful advice. He spoke surprisingly good English, actually. He asked where we were from, if we liked Japan, and what we thought of the people. After, he told us what planes to use and what types of bus tickets to buy if we wanted to go up to Hokaido. Our group had a great time talking to him, and Jorren (our Dutch Ranger) was shocked that a Tokyo man would be so friendly to foreigners he just met on a train. The reason that guy was so nice? Maybe it is because he’s not from Tokyo at all, but from Hiroshima, just like Yuki-chan/sensei. People from the western part of Japan are supposed to be louder, funnier, and friendlier than people from the eastern shore.

That was a little off topic. Anyway, we bought a bunch of food from the local grocery store, went to Derek’s house and cooked up a storm! The only problem was that he lives in one of the Sakura Houses. Sakura House is a company that rents rooms to foreigners who are planning on staying in Japan short term and don’t want to invest in a long-term lease. There was a Korean girl who had moved in the week before and, even though she was in her pajamas and in the middle of making her own dinner, was kind enough to let us use both the stove burners, so we gave her a heaping plate of food and talked with her for the rest of the night. We had to communicate in Japanese (which went….well, I guess) since no one knew Korean and she didn’t know English. Well, that’s a lie. Jorren actually did know how to count to 10 in Korean from his years in Tae Kwon Do and Sarah could go as far as 20 because…she just…knows…that’s not the point! We ended up becoming her best friends and even gave us all adjectives: Derek and Jorren were “interesting/funny”, Sarah was “cute”, and I was “pretty”. She was such a sweetheart and asked us to come back to talk with her sometime. Which we never did. Um, maybe we can still make it back before Derek moves out? Ugh! Now I feel like I’ve wasted time here.

I'll just have to fb everybody to get over to the Sakura House soon for a final cooking party with Derek's housemate.

By the way, the food was great. Cheap and quickly made, but great. In the end, I had to get back on the 11 pm train so that I could get back to my place in time for good-‘old curfew. Great story, right? Don’t worry, I’ll come up with something better.