snippets of japan
more words from a people watcher, I guess.
Dear whomever,
During my trip to Japan, I did something I should definitely do more often: I kept a tab open on my notes app, where I quickly documented everything that brought me joy. For this week’s letter, I’d like to share them with you, and hope they serve as a sort of reflection on how the simplest pleasures of life are often the most beautiful. Originally, these were only brief, messy sentences (in bold) - but I have fleshed them out, for you, from memory, to make the idea clearer.
Kawaii ! bartender. warm, polaroid pictures. i won all the plushies!
After spending most of the night in an arcade in Shinjuku, where I hit jackpot multiple times, we stuffed our winnings in my bag, and walked to a street named Kabukicho. I am slightly tipsy and what keeps me moving is mainly an adrenaline high from the claw machine gambling; I was carrying in my hands my biggest win that wouldn’t fit in my purse - a Kirby plushie with a party hat on. Very perfect for the situation.
Kabukicho is a place of smallness, where multiple bars and pubs are all stacked on top of each other. The bars are barely little rooms, each fitting only a handful of people and the bartender. They are low-lit, and incredibly intimate, and we scan the open doors for any one that, simply, has the room for us, with no real preference.
We choose one whose walls are filled with Polaroids of past customers. The bartender is a middle aged woman who smiles and nods but knows little English. At the sight of my Kirby, she grins and says, “Kawaii!” and I immediately love her. She gives us snacks and drinks and we can hold no conversation with her and yet it was a highlight, a beautiful hour or two in a small place that felt incredibly human. She asks to take a photo of me, and I let her. I realize I prefer small places with more people in them.
Later a girl mumbles through the sharp scent of vodka that she thinks I’m beautiful. I say, in English, that everything is, somehow, someway.
young luvrs on their first trip. impressing your bfs parents is always such a task! they loved her though!
On our arrival to Tokyo Station for our bullet train to Kyoto, my eyes fall on a two adults and two kids. It is painfully obvious that the situation is a boy introducing his girlfriend to his parents, or them going on their first trip independently. The girl, no more than fifteen, is blushing uncontrollably, nodding her head down to every word the parents say - she is listening intently, and the parents are speaking a lot. The boy, however, is of course, over it, rolling his eyes and on the brink of shushing them.
As they finally leave, these two young lovers, the boys’ mother scrambles to adjust his shirt, and his dad pats his backpack, and the boy grabs his girlfriends’ hand and pulls her away while she continues to nod and bow to his parents, even past the glass doors.
I watch the parents smile at each other after they’re gone, and discuss something shortly before walking off. I think they’re talking about how much they like her.
Old couple holding hands at the shrine. they are so in love, i love love - will i be buried beside the man i love? i know they will be buried alongside each other
We arrive at a beautiful Buddhist shrine - Tenryu-ji - along with an older couple, who are frail and walking slow. I am happy to go at their pace, if just to watch their intertwined hands. I don’t want to rush this, anyway, and walking slow through this fresh air is a beautiful experience, anyway. He points things out that I only assume he finds interesting or important, and she nods along.
What was most lovely is that they wore backpacks with matching keychains on them. I think about the beauty of growing old alongside someone else, that love keeping you young, becoming frail and slow and weak beside them, and still holding hands and wearing backpacks and exploring. I know a handful of old couples that followed each other even in death. Is love that strong?
I contemplated this idea as we walked through the shrine, a bamboo forest and all, and since it was Buddhist, I thought of my late friend, Sofia, who was Buddhist, and thought that, yes, love is that strong, because now I think of her and love her still, and will continue to do so until the day I die.
preschoolers waving at the fish. It’s so cold, I feel so warm inside though. kids are cool? surprise!
I was excited for the aquarium in Osaka but found what brought me joy was not the sea creatures, or the penguins, or even the whales, but the collection of people staring at everything in awe. The aquarium was full to the brim, and freezing cold, and to get a glimpse of the cooler animals you’d have to force your way through a crowd and their phones.
I was happy to stay back and watch the people instead of the fish. At one tank, a collection of schoolchildren in their uniforms, waving and talking to the fish as if they could hear. They had iPhones that felt too big for them, and held the cameras, against the glass, utterly amazed and snapping too many photos in a row. They kept on waving, to the small fish, which made me giggle, and I wondered at what age you realize that you cannot communicate with everything.
There were other lovely tidbits, like a father pointing at the whales, or another holding up his child so he could see over the mass of people. A couple, in the corner, taking selfies kissing each others cheeks. A mother and forcing her kids to take photos, and the kids, usually teenagers, not even putting on smiles.
The kids, most of all, I loved, and I have never had any maternal instincts, but something about their unadulterated excitement made me melt and reconsider my “hatred of babies”.
Izakaya owner gave us candyyy
After our most lazy day yet in Kyoto, we hunt for restaurants and end up at an Izakaya a five minute walk from our hotel. The owner is an excited man, who seems to love his job - he says goodbye to us personally, and hands us little candies on our way out.
LITTLE BOY WITH A LEGO BAG BIGGER THAN HIM! HE is so excited
In the subway, we are hunting for our next train, trying to navigate the mess, and I can’t help but smile at a little boy carrying a LEGO bag that is almost as big as him. His shoes light up, and he is skipping with gratitude, training behind his mother, trying to keep up. He refuses to let her hold the bag, and he must hold it up so he doesn’t trip on it - that’s how close their height was.
I remember when a toy was the highlight of my day. When I would take such good care of it for so long. When I finally got the one I wanted… what a high.
whistling out into the street coming off of the train
My brother took me to my first ever jazz show, and we took a train right after sunset. As we walked out of the station, darkness engulfing us save for the apartment lights - a man in a suit is whistling a tune I don’t know, but love. I nod my head along to it, and he continues his song for almost a block, and I hear his voice drift off as we walk down the steps and into the bar.
That’s all I have for now, that are sensical enough to share with you.
All my love & more,
Amal
What a beautiful way to remember the little joys of your trip 🤍