Transit Tokyo

Waiting for Hikari

Sometimes transit can be the most interesting part of a trip and the likelihood of that happening is more so during a business travel. Typically, business trips are squeezed between long, monotonous meetings and obligatory dinners in standard restaurants. Taking out time for anything remotely recreational is difficult to the extent that I often choose to forego a couple of sleeping hours or skip a meal altogether to do something fun. During my week long stay in Hamamatsu I was faced with the same time crunch that has plagued so many business trips and I could find no opportunity to absorb any local flavor or culture. January being the peak of winter, days were short and local exploration after 6 pm in the city was pointless. Having no company, I did not venture out in search of pubs or cafes which are anyway few and far in between in the sleepy industrial hub of Hamamatsu. Even before I knew our one week of business in Japan was over and it was time to head back home. We wrapped up our final presentation early on Friday morning to catch the afternoon Hikari back to Tokyo from where we were to fly back home the next morning.

View from my room

The hotel room

We arrived in Shinagawa district around 5 in the evening. As we waded through the strong Tokyo wind to the lobby of Hotel Prince which is right across the Shinagawa Metro station  I stumbled upon a white envelope with more than 150 thousand Japanese yen in it. The envelope was addressed to someone and looked like a payment of sorts. With our miniscule understanding of Japanese we had no way of returning it to the rightful owner. So we decided to hand it over to the hotel staff that could in turn locate the rightful owner and return the money. We can only hope that they actually did return it but knowing whatever little I have learnt of the Japanese people, they must have. The Japanese are typically more honest than us Indians I believe. We checked into our rooms and as warned found ourselves in cubicles, literally. My room was on the 14^th level in the East wing of the hotel overlooking the station across the main road and boy was it small. The single bed by the wall left just enough room for one person to pass through to the washroom on the other end. The only other elements in the room were one looking glass, a TV and a wardrobe.  If there is a country that has given meaning to the word compact, it has to be Japan. The tariff for this room was about 8000 JPY which is more than what I would pay for a double occupancy room with twice the amenities and certainly much more space back home and this is when hotels are expensive in India too. Anyhow, I changed into denims and a bomber jacket and set out for the night. The idea was to make the most of whatever little time I had left before the early morning flight back to New Delhi. I had taken some tips from Ryo Imai, a Tokyo local whom I met during my working week in Hamamatsu. He was kind enough to give me a printed map of the Tokyo metro network which can be pretty complex for a first timer to understand. He asked me to get on the Yamanote line from Shinagawa and get off a few stations later at Shibuya.

Downtown Shibuya

Shibuya is downtown Tokyo where I was headed to a local club called “The womb”. If you are coming to Tokyo looking for nightlife, you will typically be directed to one of the two stations- Shibuya or Roppongi. I picked the former and not the latter because I wasn’t looking for that kind of fun. As I arrived at the Shinagawa metro, I started scanning faces once again. Up ahead in a corner, I found a white face that didn’t look at all touristy. So I walked upto this tall British (I could tell by his accent almost instantly) man and asked him for the Yamanote line. He quickly turned to his wife who was clearly Japanese and with her help I was off to the Green line. On the train I met two desi looking blokes who turned out to be Nepalese as it was. They spoke Hindi and we discussed Bollywood for a bit. I suddenly felt at such ease. In a few minutes, we arrived at Shibuya and I got off the train. In that instant I was so excited to get out on the street that I completely forgot about Hachiko and missed it. This is something I must live with until I visit Tokyo again.

Outside a random Love Hotel

Entry to The Womb

As I got out on the street I turned on Google maps and started walking towards “The womb”. A lounge quite popular in the Tokyo International Party circuit , the womb isn’t far from the Shibuya metro and can be reached on foot. On the way, I took a few selfie pitstops outside indiscreet Love hotels in the bylanes of Shibuya. Even though I would have loved to check out one of these from the inside, going in all by myself would have seemed pretty sad. So I took my selfies and moved on. Arriving at the womb I learned about the online website of Tokyo International Party circuit where I could register and get a discount on the cover charges. So I did and got in for a mere 2000 JPY. Now, this is a measly sum to pay for 3 hours of boozing anywhere in the world, especially in India, so I was just bloody happy. I put away my things in one of the lockers in the passage and got in. What I thought was a club turned out to be a sports lounge with an international football game running on the big screen. At first, I thought of turning back but then more people started coming in and I just happened to strike conversation with a Polish bloke I had met in the lobby. This guy was a student of International relations learning the Japanese language at Tokyo university, planning to enroll in a masters program later. While talking to this guy I had an epiphany. This guy was living my life. I was supposed to be him. I had an overwhelming feeling of realization and a distinct sense of sadness at the same time. I’m not sure if all of this was not triggered by the Shochu on the rocks I had been pouring down my throat but it was real and it was happening to me at the Womb, in Shibuya, Tokyo. Over the course of the evening, we discussed, politics, races, people, women and culture among ourselves and with some others who cared to join us. Clearly, we weren’t the only ones not interested in the game. Here, I met two Paki blokes, one other guy from India, a couple of American girls (who showed no interest whatsoever) and people from almost everywhere. I do not remember interacting with so many different people from so many different worlds in one place anywhere else in my life. Somewhere around my 4th shochu, we started talking to Lisa. Lisa stood in a corner with another Indian guy and Zach (Polish guy) initiated the conversation. In no time, Lisa was telling us about her Indian origin and her visit to Wadala in Bombay. Once again, I felt at home in a distant foreign place as memories from my Bombay childhood rushed back. Our conversation was interrupted by some music towards the end which wasn’t bad at all really. I think I remember congratulating our German DJ at the end of his gig and before we knew it was time to go. For all the curious travelers out there, Tokyo in spite of being a true world city goes to sleep at half past ten and I mean that literally. The whole city shuts down, even the clubs and other party places and the only store that remains open in this sleepy megalopolis beyond 12 is what the locals call the Donkey Store.

Donkey Store

The groupie

Lisa and Zach took me to the Donkey store where I purchased a pair of touch screen gloves for my sister in a half drunken state following which we came back to the Shibuya metro. On our way back we took a bunch of groupies as we discussed Lisa’s boyfriend in detail. We closed it with some heart to heart advice for little Lisa and decided to call it a night. They put me on the train back to Shinagawa and pushed off themselves. As I rode back on the metro, I reflected upon the events of that night, how within a short span of time, I had made friends with two completely random people and how easily I had been able to connect with them in a strange town far away from home. I realized how only traveling can bring you closer to people you would never know otherwise, people so different and yet so similar.

Drunken reflection

Sometimes, transit is better than the destination because you know that it’s not over yet, that something lies ahead of you. It can be more meaningful than the destination itself because of the experiences it brings you. It is ephemeral, yes, but it is also forever.