I need paparazzi control
I had the kind of weekend you can only fully understand if you’ve traveled internationally…especially to a country whose language you don’t speak at all. A mixture of confusion, excitement, sheer mortification, Davy Crockett dry humping your leg, Japanese country western, kincho…..you get my drift. It was insane. I’m not quite sure how to explain, maybe these pictures will be of some help.
I took the train to Kumamoto, only to be kicked off one stop early by the man sitting next to me. I trusted him to be right, and in doing so I was wrong. But, I made it to the station around the same time as Dre, who presented me with my very own Dr. Pepper. I almost hopped back on the train, for what could possibly top Dr. Pepper to an addict? Glad I stuck around though. Saturday we hit up the Suizenji Castle, apparently just missing the ninjas…bummer. The castle is absolutely enormous and well intact despite centuries of wear and tear. The architecture was pretty impressive, which means I stopped every 10 seconds to take a picture. We climbed up to the top and managed to get a really good view of the city, which was a shock after living in rural Tanushimaru for the past few months. Dre, Takeshi and I met an American couple while looking around. It’s weird how friendly tourists are to each other, as if realizing that if you ignore this one English speaker you may fuck up your chances of ever seeing another. As it was, we were completely encased in Japanese students on a field trip. It’s always fun telling people what you’re dong in Japan, how you’re adapting and your plans for the future. Their impressed faces and comments make my pathetic life seem a little more interesting.
Saturday night is a bit of a blur. Lindsey, Andrea and I went to, I kid you not, a Japanese country western bar-Good Time Charlie’s, to get directions to a country music festival on Sunday. I was a little wary, considering my dislike of all things country, but the bar was enough to change all that. You can’t possibly imagine the depths Charlie went to to convince his patrons they were drinking in Nashville or Lawrenceburg rather than Japan. Confederate flags, spurs and boots, CMT billboard charts, pics of Charlie (the Japanese owner) with every imaginable country singer ever. It was crazy, to say the least. The bartender even had a southern twang to his English. Just too weird. But we met a few members of Darryl Worley’s band and decided to show them around Kumamoto, stopping at Sharp’s, where they were forced to play a set. Long story short, alcohol, dancing, some pretty frisky country singers, Japanese girls in see-through shirts and more alcohol later, the three of us passed out around 5, only to get up at 8.
Sunday the three of us plus Ian make the long trek to Aso for Country Gold. I’d never been to Aso before and it alone was worth the price of the ticket. It was the kind of day where all the puzzle pieces fit together and you realize you’ve found something worthy of all the shit you put up with on a daily basis. Great weather, surrounded by mountains and Japanese hick - I’m serious - and the occasional lunatic wanting a picture of American girls. By the time I leave I believe that half of Japan will be trading pictures of me back and forth. It’s a little too perverse, as in, I don’t wanna know what you’ll do with that photo, for me…just creeps me out, thinking that random men I don’t know, and don’t care to know, have my picture on file. A few even have video…really not cool. Anywho, while inching closer to the stage to laugh at the line dancers an inebriated man with what I can only assume was dementia, dressed as Davy Crockett, pulled me on stage and tried to teach me to dance, which is just a joke, prior to dry humping my leg and snapping pictures of us together. Yeah, not the highlight of the weekend. Dre and Lindsey were just laughing and I think I almost died. But I made it out alive…or did I?
All in all, it was awkward, fascinating, gorgeous, drunken and memorable. Thanks to Dre for putting up with me and for countless trips to Starbucks…you keep me sane. We’ll have to do it all again…save the scary men and random photos.
I took the train to Kumamoto, only to be kicked off one stop early by the man sitting next to me. I trusted him to be right, and in doing so I was wrong. But, I made it to the station around the same time as Dre, who presented me with my very own Dr. Pepper. I almost hopped back on the train, for what could possibly top Dr. Pepper to an addict? Glad I stuck around though. Saturday we hit up the Suizenji Castle, apparently just missing the ninjas…bummer. The castle is absolutely enormous and well intact despite centuries of wear and tear. The architecture was pretty impressive, which means I stopped every 10 seconds to take a picture. We climbed up to the top and managed to get a really good view of the city, which was a shock after living in rural Tanushimaru for the past few months. Dre, Takeshi and I met an American couple while looking around. It’s weird how friendly tourists are to each other, as if realizing that if you ignore this one English speaker you may fuck up your chances of ever seeing another. As it was, we were completely encased in Japanese students on a field trip. It’s always fun telling people what you’re dong in Japan, how you’re adapting and your plans for the future. Their impressed faces and comments make my pathetic life seem a little more interesting.
Saturday night is a bit of a blur. Lindsey, Andrea and I went to, I kid you not, a Japanese country western bar-Good Time Charlie’s, to get directions to a country music festival on Sunday. I was a little wary, considering my dislike of all things country, but the bar was enough to change all that. You can’t possibly imagine the depths Charlie went to to convince his patrons they were drinking in Nashville or Lawrenceburg rather than Japan. Confederate flags, spurs and boots, CMT billboard charts, pics of Charlie (the Japanese owner) with every imaginable country singer ever. It was crazy, to say the least. The bartender even had a southern twang to his English. Just too weird. But we met a few members of Darryl Worley’s band and decided to show them around Kumamoto, stopping at Sharp’s, where they were forced to play a set. Long story short, alcohol, dancing, some pretty frisky country singers, Japanese girls in see-through shirts and more alcohol later, the three of us passed out around 5, only to get up at 8.
Sunday the three of us plus Ian make the long trek to Aso for Country Gold. I’d never been to Aso before and it alone was worth the price of the ticket. It was the kind of day where all the puzzle pieces fit together and you realize you’ve found something worthy of all the shit you put up with on a daily basis. Great weather, surrounded by mountains and Japanese hick - I’m serious - and the occasional lunatic wanting a picture of American girls. By the time I leave I believe that half of Japan will be trading pictures of me back and forth. It’s a little too perverse, as in, I don’t wanna know what you’ll do with that photo, for me…just creeps me out, thinking that random men I don’t know, and don’t care to know, have my picture on file. A few even have video…really not cool. Anywho, while inching closer to the stage to laugh at the line dancers an inebriated man with what I can only assume was dementia, dressed as Davy Crockett, pulled me on stage and tried to teach me to dance, which is just a joke, prior to dry humping my leg and snapping pictures of us together. Yeah, not the highlight of the weekend. Dre and Lindsey were just laughing and I think I almost died. But I made it out alive…or did I?
All in all, it was awkward, fascinating, gorgeous, drunken and memorable. Thanks to Dre for putting up with me and for countless trips to Starbucks…you keep me sane. We’ll have to do it all again…save the scary men and random photos.
posted by Chishiki Lauren at 12:19 AM
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