Apr 4, 2009
Apr 3, 2009
Middle East Trip: Day Two: Dubai (1 of 3)
Day Two
Dubai (1 of 3)
"Emirates." That single word never really meant much to me; in the cobwebs of ignorance I had the vague notion that an emirate was analogous to an American state, Canadian province or something similar--but I hadn't realized that an emirate was a political body headed by a Sheikh, nor was I aware that Dubai was not just a city, but one of seven such bodies. As I am keenly interested in law, questions on the legal logistics of how the separately-governed emirates are woven together under common laws started forming in my mind, and this is still a topic I have to consider--particularly as each emirate has rather different approaches to balance religion and law.
While this thought dances about my head for a little while, Hiromi quickly makes me shift gears: "So, what would you like to do today?"
My knee-jerk reaction: "I'd love to see the Burj."
She rolls her eyes slightly, in that way people do when they know the other person's intentionally being tough. "Which one? The Burj Al Arab or the Burj Dubai?"
"Yes," I chuckle as I wrap a handkerchief around my shaved head (the SPF50 gives me stomach cramps) and greet the morning. Hiromi raises an eyebrow at my smartass response, and before she can say anything I continue, "I'd be keen to see both." She smiles, and we drive.
As we drive along the highways, I become entranced (in that wide-eyed tourist way) by how beautiful everything is--the way the roads are set up, the way the sky has a dusty tinge against the pure blueness beyond, the row-after-rows of power lines undulating out toward the horizon, and the way everyone drives (fast-fast-go and ignoring the turn signal) make everything seem oddly reminiscent of Phoenix, AZ.
And then I see it--the shadow of a needle piercing the sky: the Burj Dubai. For a few moments I am dumbstruck by its height. Childhood memories come to mind: the first, when I gazed up, up, and up even more--craning my head back until my balance unsettles--at the foot of the World Trade Centers in NYC. The second, of me on a floor high in WTC-1, where, after having been ushered into a conference room by my father (and waiting for his meeting to finish), I ran up to the window and gazed out at the city expanding out from under my feet.
I close my eyes and imagine myself high in this Burj, gazing out at twilight as it rushes toward the horizon. Hiromi's voice interjects. "It's nice, eh?" I nod, almost unconsciously.
We curve away from that Burj to the next ("burj" simply means "tower" in Arabic). As I lower my window, I grin at Hiromi and mutter something like, "Sorry for being such a tourist," then snap a few frames--none of which turn out to be anything remarkable. I stick my hand out the window and try to grasp the balmy air, try to capture and hold it within my palm. (Which, merely for the pure sensation of it, is a favorite pastime of mine.)
Soon we arrive near the Burj Al Arab, park parallel to a beach glittering brightly with tiny diamonds, open the doors, and are greeted by a breeze known only in paradise. As Hiromi takes off her sandals and lets her toes sink into the pillows of sand, I find myself growing increasingly envious--I had only brought a pair of shoes, and I didn't wish to walk around all day with sand in my socks (soft as though it may be). I splashed my fingers around in the bathwater, gazed out at the horizon, and for the first time in a long while, feel at peace.
Dubai (1 of 3)
"Emirates." That single word never really meant much to me; in the cobwebs of ignorance I had the vague notion that an emirate was analogous to an American state, Canadian province or something similar--but I hadn't realized that an emirate was a political body headed by a Sheikh, nor was I aware that Dubai was not just a city, but one of seven such bodies. As I am keenly interested in law, questions on the legal logistics of how the separately-governed emirates are woven together under common laws started forming in my mind, and this is still a topic I have to consider--particularly as each emirate has rather different approaches to balance religion and law.
While this thought dances about my head for a little while, Hiromi quickly makes me shift gears: "So, what would you like to do today?"
My knee-jerk reaction: "I'd love to see the Burj."
She rolls her eyes slightly, in that way people do when they know the other person's intentionally being tough. "Which one? The Burj Al Arab or the Burj Dubai?"
"Yes," I chuckle as I wrap a handkerchief around my shaved head (the SPF50 gives me stomach cramps) and greet the morning. Hiromi raises an eyebrow at my smartass response, and before she can say anything I continue, "I'd be keen to see both." She smiles, and we drive.
As we drive along the highways, I become entranced (in that wide-eyed tourist way) by how beautiful everything is--the way the roads are set up, the way the sky has a dusty tinge against the pure blueness beyond, the row-after-rows of power lines undulating out toward the horizon, and the way everyone drives (fast-fast-go and ignoring the turn signal) make everything seem oddly reminiscent of Phoenix, AZ.
And then I see it--the shadow of a needle piercing the sky: the Burj Dubai. For a few moments I am dumbstruck by its height. Childhood memories come to mind: the first, when I gazed up, up, and up even more--craning my head back until my balance unsettles--at the foot of the World Trade Centers in NYC. The second, of me on a floor high in WTC-1, where, after having been ushered into a conference room by my father (and waiting for his meeting to finish), I ran up to the window and gazed out at the city expanding out from under my feet.
I close my eyes and imagine myself high in this Burj, gazing out at twilight as it rushes toward the horizon. Hiromi's voice interjects. "It's nice, eh?" I nod, almost unconsciously.
We curve away from that Burj to the next ("burj" simply means "tower" in Arabic). As I lower my window, I grin at Hiromi and mutter something like, "Sorry for being such a tourist," then snap a few frames--none of which turn out to be anything remarkable. I stick my hand out the window and try to grasp the balmy air, try to capture and hold it within my palm. (Which, merely for the pure sensation of it, is a favorite pastime of mine.)
Soon we arrive near the Burj Al Arab, park parallel to a beach glittering brightly with tiny diamonds, open the doors, and are greeted by a breeze known only in paradise. As Hiromi takes off her sandals and lets her toes sink into the pillows of sand, I find myself growing increasingly envious--I had only brought a pair of shoes, and I didn't wish to walk around all day with sand in my socks (soft as though it may be). I splashed my fingers around in the bathwater, gazed out at the horizon, and for the first time in a long while, feel at peace.
Apr 2, 2009
Middle East Trip: Day One
Day One
Osaka; Dubai
Dressing for Dubai was a bit difficult, given that I had desired to pack as lightly as possible--and as I would be going from the chilly 9 degrees of wintry Japan to the pleasant 27 degrees of wintery UAE, I debated for quite a while over whether to wear a jacket (and later stash it into my suitcase, meaning less room for souvenirs) or try to gut it out and dress with long-sleeved shirt and my signature suit jacket. Opting for the latter proved to be a brilliant choice. The Emirates flight from Kansai Airport ended up being pretty great--despite the cabin air being a little nippy (I had decided this was to acclimate everyone to the temperature difference--first start cool in Japan, and then gradually increase the temperature to meet that of Dubai. Turns out, though, they just wanted to keep everyone cool.) and the seats being a tad narrow. Nevertheless, I found the food and overall atmosphere of the plane to be quite wonderful, and from the selection of over 50, I happily caught up on my movies before falling asleep.
As we descended into Dubai right around midnight, I turned on the plane's downward camera feed, alternating between that and the view ahead. Gradually the flecks of light scattered what I later found out to be desert sand turned into more organized patterns; these came to be connected to lines of streetlights, which like streams flowing into rivers grew into grids--and then the heart of Dubai, glowing with the amber light of streetlamps and dotted with the pure white spotlights of hundreds of ongoing construction projects came into view.
And then we landed, taxied around for a short while, and nestled up to the giant curving cocoon of DXB's sparkly-new Terminal 3. What I saw within truly gave me pause: dozens upon dozens of shops, sculpted gardens, and acres of breezy airspace meeting the glass high above.
So, I kind of blame the same sort of awe for my having gotten lost after I cleared customs and changed some yen to dirhams. In typical Tim-adventure fashion, I went left instead of following the large exit signs "right", and went instead right into the employees' exit. The type that you need some sort of badge, identification, and access clearance for. The kind that when you enter, all sorts of people look at you a little strangely for carrying a backpack and trailing a suitcase behind. Yes, I was a bit surprised that there didn't seem to be any other passengers (I blame fatigue for this one), but I reckoned that maybe the 200-something others on my flight were perusing duty-free.
It was only when I started running into steam and plumbing pipes and Indian work crews pointing at me with grins that transcend all languages (of the "hey guys--look at where this guy's going!" variety) that I decided to retrace my steps and see if I couldn't find the real exit.
Eventually I did, and I think I gave a good share of people some fine entertainment (namely some of the duty free staff, who, without speaking and with a chuckle in their eyes, pointed me in the right direction)--and finally met up with my friend.
"I was getting a bit worried about you--did you get lost in the terminal or something?" Hiromi asked as we headed to her car. I chuckled and said, "yeah--something like that."
Osaka; Dubai
Dressing for Dubai was a bit difficult, given that I had desired to pack as lightly as possible--and as I would be going from the chilly 9 degrees of wintry Japan to the pleasant 27 degrees of wintery UAE, I debated for quite a while over whether to wear a jacket (and later stash it into my suitcase, meaning less room for souvenirs) or try to gut it out and dress with long-sleeved shirt and my signature suit jacket. Opting for the latter proved to be a brilliant choice. The Emirates flight from Kansai Airport ended up being pretty great--despite the cabin air being a little nippy (I had decided this was to acclimate everyone to the temperature difference--first start cool in Japan, and then gradually increase the temperature to meet that of Dubai. Turns out, though, they just wanted to keep everyone cool.) and the seats being a tad narrow. Nevertheless, I found the food and overall atmosphere of the plane to be quite wonderful, and from the selection of over 50, I happily caught up on my movies before falling asleep.
As we descended into Dubai right around midnight, I turned on the plane's downward camera feed, alternating between that and the view ahead. Gradually the flecks of light scattered what I later found out to be desert sand turned into more organized patterns; these came to be connected to lines of streetlights, which like streams flowing into rivers grew into grids--and then the heart of Dubai, glowing with the amber light of streetlamps and dotted with the pure white spotlights of hundreds of ongoing construction projects came into view.
And then we landed, taxied around for a short while, and nestled up to the giant curving cocoon of DXB's sparkly-new Terminal 3. What I saw within truly gave me pause: dozens upon dozens of shops, sculpted gardens, and acres of breezy airspace meeting the glass high above.
So, I kind of blame the same sort of awe for my having gotten lost after I cleared customs and changed some yen to dirhams. In typical Tim-adventure fashion, I went left instead of following the large exit signs "right", and went instead right into the employees' exit. The type that you need some sort of badge, identification, and access clearance for. The kind that when you enter, all sorts of people look at you a little strangely for carrying a backpack and trailing a suitcase behind. Yes, I was a bit surprised that there didn't seem to be any other passengers (I blame fatigue for this one), but I reckoned that maybe the 200-something others on my flight were perusing duty-free.
It was only when I started running into steam and plumbing pipes and Indian work crews pointing at me with grins that transcend all languages (of the "hey guys--look at where this guy's going!" variety) that I decided to retrace my steps and see if I couldn't find the real exit.
Eventually I did, and I think I gave a good share of people some fine entertainment (namely some of the duty free staff, who, without speaking and with a chuckle in their eyes, pointed me in the right direction)--and finally met up with my friend.
"I was getting a bit worried about you--did you get lost in the terminal or something?" Hiromi asked as we headed to her car. I chuckled and said, "yeah--something like that."
Mar 7, 2009
030709 random
i decided to go back to Ueno, and as this little boy, maybe 6 years old, passed me to get off, he smiles warmly at me and bows slightly. i bowed back, and.. its weird, but this simple gesture done with complete sincerity brought tears to my eyes.
Jan 21, 2009
List of most haunted places in Japan!
When I was investigating "leads" on places in Japan that are deemed to be somehow haunted, to do a Ghosthunters-style investigation with some of my friends, I kept on finding the same stories over and over. If you Google "haunted places in japan" or "scariest places in Japan" you will undoubtedly come across a list a half-dozen or so in length, hosted at Shadowlands. While this list is nice as a starting point, for the most part, it either provides hardly enough detail on where to find the specific location being discussed, or provides locations that are unavailable/inaccessible to normal civilians. Unfortunately, most other sites in English are pretty much copy-and-paste jobs of the Shadowlands material; few, if any, unique locations are mentioned.
Thus: my pet project in Google Maps (seen below; link here). A serious collection of locations gleaned from stories I've heard from the Japanese. At some point I intend to travel to as many of the sites in my own list as I possibly can- -to offer a firsthand account of what they're all about, and if they're worth spending the time to visit and perchance have a creepy/paranormal experience of your own.
What's listed below are the actual locations I have been able to gather so far, and as precisely determined as possible given the data available. If I'm unsure of the precise location, I mention that. Eventually I hope to provide a short background on each location along with ratings on the "scare factor", photos, and as much information as I can compile.
If you are interested in contributing, or have an experience of your own, please feel free to contact me.
Thus: my pet project in Google Maps (seen below; link here). A serious collection of locations gleaned from stories I've heard from the Japanese. At some point I intend to travel to as many of the sites in my own list as I possibly can- -to offer a firsthand account of what they're all about, and if they're worth spending the time to visit and perchance have a creepy/paranormal experience of your own.
What's listed below are the actual locations I have been able to gather so far, and as precisely determined as possible given the data available. If I'm unsure of the precise location, I mention that. Eventually I hope to provide a short background on each location along with ratings on the "scare factor", photos, and as much information as I can compile.
If you are interested in contributing, or have an experience of your own, please feel free to contact me.
Dec 9, 2008
12.09.08
ever have to iron your underwear because it was wet, because you had put all of your underwear in the wash and had forgotten to take it out, and then realized only when you were changing that, oh yeah, you have no underwear?
(笑) それは、今朝．
(笑) それは、今朝．
Nov 30, 2008
Nov 25, 2008
kyoto (11.23.08)
so this weekend i decided to visit with my good friends in Gifu, and travel with them to different places--enjoying the crisp air and vivid colors.
saturday i went down to ise, which (for reasons i cannot recall) is one of the most sacred places in japan. i have always wanted to visit, and have a look. unfortunately, its so sacred that most temples are inaccessible, hidden behind tall fences. so while many Japanese seem to feel a certain amount of contentment by being close to such structures, i was silently wishing that my friend and i had chosen to visit elsewhere.
the next day, i went to kyoto with another friend; we ended up doing a lot of walking. (actually, we decided that perhaps walking would be faster than taking the buses--as it was a holiday weekend, it was farily crowded; the lines simply waiting for the bus were pretty crazy.)
still, we managed to make it to this particular gem--kinkakuji, or "the golden pavillion". though it had been a fairly cloudy day, right as we made it to the temple, the sun came out and really set the gold exterior beautifully alight, transforming it into a spectacular gem set in the middle of the pond.
Nov 17, 2008
aspara in a few easy steps
cut asparagus
coat lightly in margarine
sprinkle pepper/salt/oregano
wrap bacon
sprinkle with garlic and lemon juice
microwave for 3 minutes or so
11.17.08
.. either its his real voice or the train PA system's messed, but the conductor sounds like a Dalek... kinda want him to say, "間もなく上野。。上野です。EXTERMINATE!!"
Nov 16, 2008
6.18.07
6/18.07
sometimes while commuting on the train, something small and seemingly innocuous catches my eye; and for whatever reason it just resonates within my mind and soul, growing into a small ball of energy and tears. it's such an odd phenemenon...a most bizarre conflict of emotions. happiness. sadness. a kind of blissful melancholy for the moment... saudade.
sometimes while commuting on the train, something small and seemingly innocuous catches my eye; and for whatever reason it just resonates within my mind and soul, growing into a small ball of energy and tears. it's such an odd phenemenon...a most bizarre conflict of emotions. happiness. sadness. a kind of blissful melancholy for the moment... saudade.
my trigger this morning? hydrangeas. scores upon scores of this lovely flower sprinkled everywhere on the landscape outside: in between houses, along rivers..
Nov 2, 2008
tokyo demonstration 11.02.08
its odd because i so seldomly see japanese displaying a strong opinion in public... which leads me to think that these people must be pretty peeved to elicit such a display. and that the police donned riot gear was something pretty impressive in and of itself..
Oct 25, 2008
Oct 1, 2008
october first
hahaha
so this morning i ended up being "that" guy. the guy who didn't quite make it on the train in time, and had to struggle with the door as it had closed on him.
so this morning i ended up being "that" guy. the guy who didn't quite make it on the train in time, and had to struggle with the door as it had closed on him.
the guy with the umbrella sticking through the door. and the same guy whose door-stuck umbrella becomes the object of fancy for the five hundred people waiting at the next station.
Sep 28, 2008
Sep 23, 2008
Sep 20, 2008
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