Can a visit to Japan be complete if one does not catch a glimpse of Mount Fuji? Or, as my son asked, after realizing overcast skies had obscured the view of the fabled volcano from the window of our Shinkansen, "can I interest you in some of our other peaks?" He's a great tour guide, always ready with a "Plan B."
Even if I had been crushed by my failure to get a real life glimpse of Mount Fuji, I would be comforted by the fact that I have more than made up for the void by experiencing some of Japan's more exotic natural wonders, namely squatting toilets and karaoke.
Yes, squatting toilets. You haven't lived until you've really had to pee like nobody's business and you get to the rest room and the one "Western style" toilet is occupied and you have no choice but to tiptoe onto the glistening moist rubber mat surrounding what looks like a urinal planted into the floor and assume the position. For sanity's sake, I tell myself the glistening is merely condensation, though we all know better. But you do what you gotta do, and time is of the essence; when your bladder is about to burst after the six bottles of water you've sucked down so you don't die of dehydration in the hundred degree heat you can't waste a second contemplating what kind of muck you're stepping in because you have to devote all your time and energy to gingerly removing your shorts and your underwear without getting them caught on your now wet shoes so when you squat down you don't end up peeing all over them. It's gross. Simply gross.
Suffice it to say the squatting toilets are a sight to see; I have no pictures but trust me, the wonder of it all is permanently etched in my psyche. Karaoke, on the other hand, is a different story. I do have pictures, because, mercifully, alcohol and sheer exhaustion managed to keep the episode from permanently etching itself on my memory. But after getting this far along in life without even considering karaoke, I actually held a microphone to my mouth in some seedy establishment and belted out some Elvis, Beatles, Abba (no karaoke experience is complete without "Dancing Queen") and, because my son said it was necessary, "Bohemian Rhapsody." Bismillah no, I will not let you go (let you go).... Bismillah? Really? I had never seen the lyrics spelled out. Thankfully, this all happened in a private room for our little party of five, but still. Note to self: delete the pictures.
The alternative to squatting toilets here in Japan is their version of a Western style toilet, which, for some reason, includes a warmed seat and piped in sea noises to drown out the sound of peeing. None of this makes sense to me, particularly the warmed seat, which always makes me feel as if I've sat down too soon after somebody else's butt was there. Ick. The alternative to karaoke, I suppose, is just going with my instincts, saying I'm too tired and taking a pass. Truth be told, though, it felt pretty good -- somehow even more satisfying than singing in the shower. Maybe it was the microphone. The alternative to Mount Fuji? Well, I've seen plenty of pictures, and that's good enough for me. And, as my son suggested, there are always other peaks.
And valleys.
No comments:
Post a Comment