Ryokoushimasu

Welcome back, dear reader, from that interminably long gap in posts.  I know you were so worried, questions of when, oh when would he post again, permeating you every thought, but fear not:  I have a deadline coming up--I'm obligated to throw my program a few blog posts a month--so that's as good a reason as any to get started; as some of you may know, I only work under pressure.

Anyway.  Taking a trip.  That's what I've been doing in the past few weeks that hasn't been school.  (Five to six hours of class a day is brutal.  This must be the revenge I get for only taking 14 credits a term.)  The first excursion in the gauntlet was to yet another site of great importance to myself and my peers:  the Momofuku Ando Instant Ramen Museum.  To reiterate:  I visited a memorial to the man whose ingenuity has reached across time to sustain overworked college students.  Seriously though, much of the museum was dedicated to Momofuku-san's invention of instant ramen, which was apparently characterized by a bunch of random but fortunate epiphanies.  Way cooler than the history, though, was the area in the museum where you could make your own Cup Noodles.  Have you ever even thought of that?  Neither did I, but damn was I excited to when I heard we were scheduled to go.

Here's how it goes down:  First, you buy a cup, then wash your hands to prepare for handling said cup.  "Washing your hands" may conjure an image of a faucet and sink, but that shit is sooo 20th century:  They mist your hands with a spray of water and soap.  I was inordinately impressed by this, as I am with numerous other futuristic, almost anachronistic gadgets to make even the most mundane of tasks more convenient that are common, if not ubiquitous in this country.  Wow, damn, I haven't even started to talk about the ramen and I've already written a whole paragraph.  Right, so the next step after having your hands washed for you is to design your own cup, to pretty it up with markers.  This being a class trip, it was us and our two instructors; we grabbed a table and doodled.  I wrote some random stuff in Japanese on my cup--actually, I put down "IT'S OVER 9000!" on my cup, after which I got to explain to our teachers that most ancient of memes, ironic given that it was spawned from Japanese anime.  Next up was actually getting the ramen.  We lined up at this counter that takes you all the way from putting in the ramen to sealing the whole thing shut.  After putting the actual ramen in the cup, you select a soup and ingredients.  I went for something snazzy and went for cheese, beef, and corn in a curry-flavored soup.  The cup is sealed and shrink-wrapped, and then you're done--your own Cup Noodles!  Nice, guys.  We toured the museum a bit after that.  One of the coolest things was the tunnel of instant ramen.  Unfortunately, this was not a tunnel constructed out of dehydrated noodles; rather, it was an exhibit that chronicled the proliferation of ramen over time, starting with the very first "Chikin Ramen" way back in the 50s to the bajillion varieties they sell now.  In America, we really only see Cup Noodles in supermarkets, but man oh man, that is really only the teensiest tip of this huge iceberg.  I'll be paying hundreds in luggage charges when I stuff my bags with instant noodles.  For lunch--are you sitting down?--we had ramen.  Actually, it was pretty swell, because according to the sign on the vending machine, this type we got had come out literally that week.  Brand new ramen!  In hindsight, I wonder if that's a really tongue-in-cheek thing for the Japanese, like when Pepsi Clear came out and nobody drank it.  But either way, I enjoyed the shit out of my bowl.

The next day we had a trip out to an ikebana exhibit in the city, ikebana being the aesthetic arrangement of all sorts of neat plants, especially flowers.  This was really pretty swell; I'm not sure if I've already mentioned it or not, but I really admire the tendency of the Japanese to take something ordinary and perfect it into an art form.  Ikebana is a prime example of this.  Unfortunately, I'm not at all well-versed in the nuances of the art--literally every minute detail of a piece carries a subtle meaning--but it was still nifty to look at.  Contrary to my prior perception, some of the works were quite large, including a few tree-fort-worthy gargantuans.  There were also the obligatory pieces displaying autumn foliage; sensitivity to the seasons is yet another sublime aspect of the culture.  It's pretty obvious in something like ikebana, but it manages to manifest itself just about everywhere in creative ways, one of the most interesting being how store employees at a certain department store began wearing witch costumes way early in the month.

My most recent trip was another class trip out to Kyoto, this time to visit a place called Kiyomizu-dera; that's "clear (or pure) water temple".  This was really cool, because this is apparently the temple to visit if you're going to Kyoto (although apparently every school within a few miles had the same idea, there were loads of school kids).  One of the most prominent features are the three small waterfalls visitors can drink from for (if I remember this right) love, health, and success in studies.  There is also something called the "lovestones", which is basically like a quasi-religious minigame.  Totally not a joke!  These squat stones are placed a few meters apart, and one must navigate from one to the other with eyes closed; success is said to guarantee love.  I didn't attempt this myself--if I had any more game I'd have to fight off all the chicks--but I had a pretty good time watching people excitedly guiding their stumbling friends.  After hitting the temple, we strolled a bit more, passing through another small temple, then had dinner, a little all-you-can-eat action, called tabehoudai.  As I think about it, I haven't really done a ton of all-you-can-eat in the US and A, but when I hear that term I conjure up images of a buffet restaurant.  That's fine and well, but I'm a big fan of tabehoudai here.  For a fixed price, you order all the food you want off the menu to share around, and it is all (at least to my American palette) high quality stuff.  We did tons of sashimi, assorted grilled and fried chicken, some sushi, a Japanese take on pizza, and at the end, chocolate parfaits!  Not half bad, you guys.

And that brings me back to today.  Whew!  Hope I didn't forget anything important.  There's some neat stuff happening in the next few days, including a festival on campus (part of which I will be working) and a sports day with the whole international crew where I will make my epic return to the ping-pong table.  Until next time, ladies and gents.