The Thief

AM

Least: At nearly 8:15am, I woke with an unusually sore throat. The sore throat was combined with a general feeling of fatigue and a minor headache. Clearly, the flu is stalking my cells waiting for the best time to strike. So far this year, I have been in remarkable health, which I put down to a change of job and diet. I suppose when the immune system finally crumbles the swine flu might just be the first ratbag through the door. I just hope I get all possible flus before I go to Malaysia in December.

Most: At just after 10:30am, I peered over the balcony to see an elderly woman being detained by two staff from the Drug 11 across the road. Shortly after, a bicycled policeman arrived to investigate what I assume was a medical shoplifting offence (the pharmacist was holding several boxes of medication). The police began asking questions and taking down statements, then became infuriated at the woman's apparent refusal to cooperate (see above). With the policeman yelling into her face, a police car arrived to take her away. As I watched through the iron bars from the balcony, she steadfastly resisted getting into the car, despite all the screaming and cajoling by the jacks. Finally, another police arrived and prised her from her spot and moved her closer to the car. The woman apparently thought she could talk her way out of it until she was manhandled into the back seat of the police car. Incredible and slightly sad scenes.

PM

Least: At 4:30pm, I made the mistake of visiting Life supermaket on a Sundau afternoon. There were literally hundreds of men, women and children shopping like mad in a storm of chaos. It was actually difficult to navigate without bumping into people or tripping over kids. The incredibly stupid Life theme song, being played on tape-decks scattered through the place only added to the mayhem. A valuable and boring lesson.

Most: At about 1:45pm, I once again visited my favourite conveyor sushi restaurant in Namba. Today, the place was extremely busy and I had to wait to be seated. Part of the reason for the sushi-mania was probably caused by the long weekend, the other reason was that the restaurant was offering three pieces of sushi per plate instead of two. Not one to miss out on a bargain, the locals were going bananas over the sight of  cut-price food. Today, even the whale bacon only made it around one lap before being wolfed down. As usual, I ate one plate too many - but I just had to try the sanma (file photo above)!

The Smells of Friday

 Friday 9th October 2009

AM

Least: At close to 9:00am, I was forced to end my slumber for the sole purpose of lugging a stinking bag of household waste down the stairs. Even though I probably could've waited another hour, I couldn't risk missing the musical blue truck. Missing a rubbish day can have dire consequences in Japan. There are no wheelie bins and rubbish that fails to make the disposal deadline must hang around the house for a few days and putting it out the night before is out of the question. A slave to rubbish.

Most: At about 9:05am, as I dumped a huge pile of garbage in the street, I once again wondered what the sickly post-typhoon smell of rotting fruit was, and why it was there. Initially, I had theorised that it may have been some elaborate after disaster dessert eaten after Melor because it smelled exactly the same as a plum that I met while eating an onigiri a few days ago. A brief look around gave me an east answer, it was all the fruit that had been blow off its branches durng the strong winds. Vaguely interesting.

PM

Least: Somewhere around 5:20pm, I detected a strange and awful odour, attacking my senses. Assuming it was just the fermenting guano pile next door I groaned and went on with my zombie-like participation in an online shoot-em-up. About five minutes later, I had a knock at the door and spoke to my neighbours who were literally being stunk out of their apartment. Despite sniffing the air like a bloodhound, I could only summise that the stench was coming from some malfunctioning factory working overtime to make up for the day off on Thursday.  Within an hour the stink had left as suddenly as it had arrived, though it left a note of rotting onions and decomposing cabbage.

Most: At about 2:20pm, I was riding my gutful of sushi home from Namba when I saw a 30-ish something man being man-handled by police into their car. Not surprisingly it was, about 100 metres from the police station in Nishinari. There seemed to be an awful lot of police patrolling the area on bicycles - maybe something was up or an important visitor was coming to town. I wonder what the man being bundled into the little police car did?

Tezukayama-Wakayama-Tezukayama-Juso-Shinsaibashi

AM

Least: Soon after 10:05am as I blurred toward Wakayama city, I concluded that the train trip was becoming the least interesting part of my morning. The scenery, the people protecting seats, the scent of the toilet, the nervous couples, the father drinking beer, the pivoting conductor, the onions hanging in the sheds, the rice paddies, the tunnels, the filthy rivers, the nationalist van, the company dormitories, the ageing express trains, the guy missing his stop and the sleeping office girls all make an appearance every Saturday and today began fading into the background static of a long commute to work.

Most: At 7:20am, I remembered that by some small miracle, it was casual day at work. The drones' clothes of suit-pants, a shirt, tie and black shoes could take a day off. At work, I felt and looked human, rather than like a lightly detailed character in a diagram of an office. I was amazed to feel such a strong change simply through a small change of routine in a country full of routines.

PM

Least: Arriving home at close to 6:30pm, it became obvious that I would have time to sit and relax for a minute. Rosie and I were scheduled to meet some acquaintances somewhere underground at 7:00pm. We found them and walked around for 40 minutes looking for a place to eat (see foodnote below).

Most: Some time around 9:40pm, we arrived at a housewarming party at a big white building, past the Mos Burger and Family Mart, past the overpass in Juso. Twenty-five or thirty people were crammed into the flat for a night of drunken revelry. My giant cans of The Premium Malts were just about empty when Rosie began waving at the bicycle police from the 9th Floor Balcony. Minutes later they were knocking on the door. I assume they told the hosts that the party was too noisy and un-Japanese. 10 minutes late were were out, crawling towards Shinsaibashi. I forgot my umbrella.

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Foodnote:


Lowlight: By pointing randomly to the menu I ordered a rice slurry, topped with a raw egg and slivers of nori. Incredibly punishing but at least it was hot.