Yesterday (my Japanese birthday) I went to Harajuku (another fashion district) with some friends. I wasn’t so focused on documenting it because I just wanted to have fun. Laura took some pictures, and when I get them I will update this post with them, so if you care to see them, keep checking back.
EDIT: The pictures have arrived!
|Laura’s shoe broke. This is surgery.|
|Cooking our okonomiyaki.|
|Browned on one side and flipped. Laura’s had bacon.|
First we roamed around the shopping, then we went to eat, and then we went back to the shopping areas. This is what it looks like during mid afternoon and then at closing time. The nighttime one is really shaky, so I apologize for that. I didn’t realize I was moving so much.
When we went to eat, Laura knew where we were going (mostly) but when we got to the building we asked a guy (who only spoke Japanese) to help us find the place. He led us through the building and into the restaurant, where the waiter asked us how many. The guy counted my four friends (ichi, ni, san, shi), myself (go), and then himself (roku). We were all a bit surprised but we figured “why not?” He sat down with us and we had some mild conversation. When the waiter came by he told him he wasn’t going to eat, but didn’t get up to leave. By the time we were all thoroughly convinced our group had grown to six people, he got up to leave. It was a strange encounter, but fun enough, and we had our dinner. I ate another one of those make-your-own egg-batter pancake things with shrimp and mushroom and whatever else they automatically add to it.
When we were done eating we returned to the shopping areas and then got on the train to Shinjuku (where I had visited before) but we decided to do it at night this time.
We found ourselves in the host club district. This is where a bunch of guys from host clubs stand out on the street and try to sweet talk any girls who look wealthy enough to come back to their clubs with them, where they will drink incredibly expensive drinks with them, talk them up in any way that will make them happy, and essentially sell their time, flirtation, and charisma for your entire year’s salary. It was quite a sight seeing all those guys in suits with overly-product’d hair and tons of jewelry chatting girls up, and looking over to see all their faces displayed on the clubs’ walls like a menu.
Most of who I was with were a little bit creeped out, so we hustled through that area, and then decided to head home.
It was a fun birthday, even though I miss my friends and family. But today I am truly 20 years old, so I guess Happy Birthday to me, again!