From The Postmodern To The Parasite: The Wonderful World Of Tokyo

Tomorrow night, I’ll find myself crammed into a child-sized seat on a coach bus for eight hours, uncomfortably making my way, yet again, down to Tokyo. Although this will mark my fifth time in the city, I still have yet to write anything of real consequence on the topic of the eastern capital. As you might recall, I copped out last time by writing about temples and the Ghibli Museum-thereby expertly avoiding mention of the elephant in the room. Which is not to say that I haven’t experienced anything blog-worthy in Tokyo; like most anyone who has visited the city, I’ve been lost in the mass of humanity that is Shibuya crossing at rush hour, I’ve waded through the garish neon of Shinjuku at night and I’ve stared out at the endless jungle of skyscrapers from the top of Tokyo Tower. At its best, Tokyo can seem so alien that it almost provides tangible evidence of the postmodern as historical moment-surely this can’t be the familiar landscape of late capitalism?

So here’s the problem: how does one approach writing about Tokyo and its 23 wards? Unlike Hiroshima, there’s no obvious historical narrative to trace. Unlike Sapporo, Tokyo is far too large to even summarize in anything short of a book. Every time I’ve sat down and tried to write about the city, I’ve found myself at a complete loss as to where to start-or where to go for that matter. So you’ll have to excuse me if I sidestep the issue at hand yet again and instead take you on a tour of a few of Tokyo’s urban curiosities, the city itself looming silently in the background all the while. Perhaps you’ll just have to see it for yourself someday.

Haven taken a bus from Kyoto, Team Gweek arrived in Tokyo just before sundown on Saturday. We immediately headed for Harajuku-the youth fashion district-for Thai food and a little wandering. Sadly, most of the team would be taking a night bus back to Aomori that very night, so our next stop was Shinjuku station (the world’s busiest) where Matt and I bid a tearful farewell to our teammates before boldly venturing off into the brisk night. And then there were two.
This time around, Matt and I chose to stay in the mostly quiet neighborhood of Asakusa, which was originally an early merchant settlement. We made the mistake (one that I will never repeat again) of staying at the Khaosan Annex-full of annoying anime nerds and lacking simple amenities like shampoo and soap. At any rate, Asakusa itself is very nice, if a little deficient in the nightlife department (which is odd considering the area’s history). Nowadays, the district is best known for the Sensoji temple complex, which I discussed at length back in April. It’s also easily recognized by this landmark:
That’s the distinctive La Flamme d’Or Building, headquarters of the Asahi Brewing Company. The giant “flame,” built by architect Philippe Starck, is meant to symbolize eternal hope and happiness. Of course, the locals simply refer to it as the kin no unko, which translates pretty literally into “the golden poop”. Did I mention that there’s a bar inside the giant dropping?
Here’s the Kamiya Bar, Tokyo’s first western-style bar, which opened its doors in the late 1880s. For some completely incomprehensible reason, they shut those same doors at 10 pm nightly and let the last customers in at 9. To hell with that.

Despite the fact that we were essentially only in Tokyo for two days, Matt and I managed to see an astonishing amount of the city. First stop: Meguro’s infamous Parasite Museum!
The only museum of its kind in the world, The Meguro Parasitological Museum houses 300 preserved specimens of various animal parasites.
My lovely assistant, Matt, demonstrates where parasites dwell in your intestinal tract.

…Heh! Heh! Racism is funny.

Here’s an 8.8 meter long tapeworm that was actually removed from some poor sap’s body after he ate a raw trout. Anyone up for sushi?
Conveniently enough, the museum provides you with an 8.8 meter long ribbon so that you can get a feel for just how long that bad boy really is. Try as we might, Matt and I couldn’t stretch it out all the way due to the fact that the room wasn’t wide enough.
After enjoying the sights of the parasite museum (and feeling like I never wanted to eat ever again), it was back to Harajuku. Renowned as Tokyo’s youth fashion hub, the area is well known for the various street performers and outrageously dressed teens who congregate there on Sundays. Unfortunately, this Sunday happened to be a bit wet, so the only thing we were able to see was an endless sea of umbrellas.
The next day, we headed out to Tsukiji, a swath of land reclaimed from Tokyo Bay in the 1700s. The neighborhood of Tsukiji has long been synonymous with the Central Wholesale Market, the largest fish market in the world. It is said that over 2000 tons of seafood change hands here on a daily basis. Incidentally, Tsukiji also enjoys a reputation as one of the best (if not the) best destinations for sushi in the world.
Chicagoans: I’ve found the sister sculpture to the "big bean" and it’s in Tsukiji, of all places.
Here we see a line of people waiting to nab a seat inside a small Tsukiji sushi shop. While we showed up well in advance of the lunchtime crowd, there were already long lines snaking through the alleyways, leading up to some of the more popular joints. Motivated by a mixture of hunger and impatience, Matt and I decided instead to enter one of the few establishments without a line-but even then we had to snag the last two seats left. While it wasn’t cheap by any means, the sushi was undoubtedly excellent. Apparently one of Matt’s teachers occasionally takes the bullet train down to Tokyo expressly for the purpose of eating sushi here.
Later in the day, we briefly visited the Imperial Palace grounds. While you can’t actually enter the inner palace (except for on New Year’s Day and the Emperor’s birthday) the outer gardens are fairly nice and, as can be expected, immaculately groomed.
The infamous Hamburger Inn, located deep in the heart of Roppongi. Back in the 1950s, a number of bars and restaurants sprung up in the area to cater to American occupation personnel from nearby bases. Roppongi is still known as a seedy den of iniquity to this day (read the fine print on the trash can below, if you don’t believe me): perhaps the only place in Tokyo where drunken foreigners and stern faced police officers are equally commonplace. Being an authentic American-style diner, the Hamburger Inn served as a gathering place for the local gaijin community for decades. Infamous professional wrestler Rikidozan is even said to have once publicly masturbated inside the restaurant as a gesture towards foreigners in Tokyo-ironic considering the fact that he himself was secretly a Korean immigrant (this and other similar anecdotes are recounted in Robert Whiting’s excellent Tokyo Underworld). Anyway, you can imagine how disappointed I was to find that the venerable Inn decided to finally shut its doors after 55 years, just a few short months before I got there.

Here we have the 100% Chocolate Café, run by Japanese chocolate and snack giant Meiji. The concept of the place is that they serve only items containing chocolate (with the exception of the requisite milk and coffee).
Their claim to fame is their 56 varieties of chocolate, each made from different kinds of cocoa beans from all over the world.
All 56 types of chocolate are displayed in glass tanks that line the walls of the restaurant.
As you can see, not only is the space exquisitely designed but there’s a real consistency of presentation to everything in the café-from the marquee right on down to the napkins. This is the work of Tokyo-based design firm Wonderwall, who I’ve since become somewhat obsessed with. I’m going to try to track down some more of their creations this weekend if I have the chance.
One really cool touch is the complimentary piece of chocolate that you’re given just for visiting-stamped with the date of your visit.

I’m going to try to clear out my blogging backlog by squeezing in two more posts before I leave tomorrow, so be sure to check back soon. Same bat time, same bat channel.