another grey day; for the last 3 days in fact, its started with just about the thickest fog rolling in from the bay at night, not burning off until 6pm in the afternoon giving you about 3 hours of somewhat sun. By 10 the sun is going down, and the fog has started to re-accumulate itself. By 2 am it seems like everyone is partied out, ready to drunk drive home in some soup of vapor, empty streets; you can barely see in front, the mist just bounces all light back in a fuzzy halo of glow.
yesterday i had this nice little moment talking to one of the people at the hostel; one of those re-realizing and appreciating the obvious/taken for granted. it was basically, "wow, i can't believe i am actually in vladivostok". like you just have these memories as a child looking at map and wondering rapturously about all the places in the world and how it must be like there; and vladivostok/siberia was definitely one of those that kept me wondering well into adulthood.
i have moments like that on the roof of the loft every once in a while, when the air is clear and blustery, and even though i never wanted to live in new york (and perhaps more of the opposite). the mind cuts through the practiced blase apathy and you get to drink from the nectarine cup of pure, unadulterated awe once again.
speaking of childhood awe, i was really (really) into russian submarines in like middle school - and i have to say, vladivostok is not really delivering (maybe i need to go to Murmansk?). There a few cruise missile destroyers sitting out, but, no submarines -- well there is one old desisel submarine that you can go into, but, meh! i want ICBM silos.
7.01.2010
6.30.2010
on time
looking back in the blog and my mind - not far either - it seems a little surreal that i was in the southern most guts of japan just 1 week ago. weird how the mind processes time (or maybe in russia time processes mind?); like maybe the mind gets used to a rate of a certain amount of new experiences/information per day, when you start doing something totally new it just makes time perception elongate. yakushima is a distance little verdant memory, far off in space/time, and now all there is is grey skies, concrete apartment blocks, shelf toilets, "bochka" beer.
on a side note, i think my pronunciation of russian is ludicrously poor and completely hindered by the fact whenever i try to speak a foreign language, i basically try to speak japanese.
on a side note, i think my pronunciation of russian is ludicrously poor and completely hindered by the fact whenever i try to speak a foreign language, i basically try to speak japanese.
vladivostok
seeing that i have been here 24 hrs +, ergo, as foremost expert, i expound upon above subject.
vladivostok basically looks like what i expected/read about; so far its been shrouded in mist, a compact grey and soviet port city. i feel like the mass of nautical structures/ships outweigh that of terrestrial.
in other ways its been totally different. russians are, in fact, much nicer and generally good natured than usually portrayed in popular american cinema. interacting has been pretty pleasant so far; got yelled at a few times by like grabbing things off store shops. i guess in russia, you ask the store peeps to fetch things for you. i guess this cuts down on shop lifting? not that people are really polite to you; but, i guess, not nearly as formidable as i imagined; although today this guy in a uniform, i think, tried his hand at trying to scam us into trying to bribe him? not sure, he was in a cop-esque uniform (dont know what actual cop even looks like, but i suspect they look more military, ie,, have camo) and he came and i think he was trying to ask for our papers (me and some other dudes from the hostel), but we just played russian-speakie dumb and was nice and he went off on his way eventually.
also, russian women here are fucking hot. i suppose this has been supposed by many before, but, theres these certain slavic/monogoloid/caucasian mixes which gives men a visceral appreciation for the word 'heterozygous advantage". they have this way of dressing, like, the trailing edge of hipster fashion, except, like more skin tight and they walk in this way that suggest they might like to crush you balls, pa-zhalsta
vladivostok basically looks like what i expected/read about; so far its been shrouded in mist, a compact grey and soviet port city. i feel like the mass of nautical structures/ships outweigh that of terrestrial.
in other ways its been totally different. russians are, in fact, much nicer and generally good natured than usually portrayed in popular american cinema. interacting has been pretty pleasant so far; got yelled at a few times by like grabbing things off store shops. i guess in russia, you ask the store peeps to fetch things for you. i guess this cuts down on shop lifting? not that people are really polite to you; but, i guess, not nearly as formidable as i imagined; although today this guy in a uniform, i think, tried his hand at trying to scam us into trying to bribe him? not sure, he was in a cop-esque uniform (dont know what actual cop even looks like, but i suspect they look more military, ie,, have camo) and he came and i think he was trying to ask for our papers (me and some other dudes from the hostel), but we just played russian-speakie dumb and was nice and he went off on his way eventually.
also, russian women here are fucking hot. i suppose this has been supposed by many before, but, theres these certain slavic/monogoloid/caucasian mixes which gives men a visceral appreciation for the word 'heterozygous advantage". they have this way of dressing, like, the trailing edge of hipster fashion, except, like more skin tight and they walk in this way that suggest they might like to crush you balls, pa-zhalsta
6.28.2010
3 hours till vladivostok
traveling with these folks; husband and wife, husband is french, wife is argentinian, they are driving from Argentina to France. right now their car, a vintage volksvagon van, is in the hold and i guess they will drive through russia, mongolia
last night the operating director of the ship bought us all (by us all, i refer to a cluster of english speaking western european/american liberal-type backpackers impromptu clusters which inevitably aggregate together via shared language and general anti-thesis towards the policies of former gwb jr.) ; which was greatly appreciated by me and by all.
Although, my cynical though processes were telling me that he was doing this mainly for the single female backpacker types; later on a supermodel level russian/tartar girl of vladivostok origin who had been studying in korea joined us. her english was very good, and she held a key with a room number which meant she was staying at a fancy room instead of a bunk like the rest of us. it was revealed that the operating director, btw named "Vladimir Lee", had promoted her out of the kindness of his heart.
well whatever, free beer and snax, i am not judging/or complaining;i am grateful to the charm of women on this ship which inspired Mr. Lee, muse-like, to such acts of generosity.
last night the operating director of the ship bought us all (by us all, i refer to a cluster of english speaking western european/american liberal-type backpackers impromptu clusters which inevitably aggregate together via shared language and general anti-thesis towards the policies of former gwb jr.) ; which was greatly appreciated by me and by all.
Although, my cynical though processes were telling me that he was doing this mainly for the single female backpacker types; later on a supermodel level russian/tartar girl of vladivostok origin who had been studying in korea joined us. her english was very good, and she held a key with a room number which meant she was staying at a fancy room instead of a bunk like the rest of us. it was revealed that the operating director, btw named "Vladimir Lee", had promoted her out of the kindness of his heart.
well whatever, free beer and snax, i am not judging/or complaining;i am grateful to the charm of women on this ship which inspired Mr. Lee, muse-like, to such acts of generosity.
6.27.2010
on the boat
aboard the eastern dream; you tell its a new ferry company, the boat still looks nice and newly renovated -- you can also tell by the huge faux marble bas relief on the walls that interior decoration was done by koreans.
good stuff>>
free wifi
clean/new
cheap-esh (22,000 yen ~ 240 bux?)
nice sento (japanese public bath) with a view
onboard restaurant not to expensive.
nice onboard peeps
bad stuff>>
no place to put your luggage (what???? its a fucking boat, there must be sooo much storage)
not enough electrical outlets in the rooms
beer is 3 bux???? cmon dude, there no taxes on the sea -- its a fucking dollar on the other ferry
kind of too many people (maybe they will all get off in korea?)
hahaha
so in the waiting area, there is this kind of celebration, i think 1 year anniversary for the ferry company. a few dry speeches by old types in japanese, more are uninterested. but then, they like pull out 20 5 year old kids to sing in unison, and like everyone, russian, japanese, korean -- everyone gets together to cheer them on.
and also theres a contingent of high school students (japanese) going on the boat to pick up garbage from the ocean.
yes, this is the power of japan.
and also theres a contingent of high school students (japanese) going on the boat to pick up garbage from the ocean.
yes, this is the power of japan.
at the port
i finding myself trying to describe places in terms of other places that the person may be aware of. for instance, if i were describing Yakushima to you, i would say something like, "its like the galapagos, but maybe a little less wild, more populated, less tropical, a little more touristy". although, i've never been to the galapagos and and neither have you, and all i am really alluding to is some intra-liminal impression we have of the galapagos, a result of galapagian marketing and well meaning 2nd grade teachers wielding colorful picture books of animals from around the world.
Night before had a good many beers with old friends in Osaka soaked up by a 1 am bowl of ramen from a small smelly place tucked into an alley way off Kiyamachi St. just north of Shijou. Left this morning from Kyoto to Sakai-minato (minato = port, therefore, lit. "Port Sakai" -- i note this because i didn't realize this for a while, always telling my japanese friends "Saka-Imi-Nato", and getting blank looks, and then like, slowly understanding what my butchering mouf is trying to say), from whence the ferry departs, making a stop in Donghae before Vladivostok. .
The bus goes through this area called Tottori-ken (ken is like a county? or maybe state), which I have never been to, except that every once in awhile people make fun of it on TV as in, " as a TV personality being told to go places to do absurd things so people at home can laugh at me, Tottori-ken is the last place I would like to go." -- although I liked the bus ride. In most travel, we hop from nice places to nice places, expressly skipping the mundane areas which make up the actual backbone of the nation state; instead preferring the hyper modern cosmopolitanism of tokyo, the indefatigable culture of kyoto, mystical beauty of yakushima -- even the vivacious urbanity of Osaka.
But, basically, Tottori-ken, is, uhh, like the New Jersey -- a place I think you and I have both been, face to face, or at least, nose to armpit of America -- and I have a certain affinity for places like this. Anyway, at the port complex, where theres is plenty of wifi (read: live blood of modern human being). The ticketing woman is obviously russian but speaks perfect Japanese (better than her english), and is, in fact, out japanese-ing japanese receptionist ladies in terms of politeness, both in speech and manner. her motions are precise, slow, measured like someone doing the tea ceremony. she bows low after handing me my ticket even though i've shown her my american passport and she should know that i, and my fellow countrymen, don;t/doesnt really appreciate stuff like this.
Night before had a good many beers with old friends in Osaka soaked up by a 1 am bowl of ramen from a small smelly place tucked into an alley way off Kiyamachi St. just north of Shijou. Left this morning from Kyoto to Sakai-minato (minato = port, therefore, lit. "Port Sakai" -- i note this because i didn't realize this for a while, always telling my japanese friends "Saka-Imi-Nato", and getting blank looks, and then like, slowly understanding what my butchering mouf is trying to say), from whence the ferry departs, making a stop in Donghae before Vladivostok. .
The bus goes through this area called Tottori-ken (ken is like a county? or maybe state), which I have never been to, except that every once in awhile people make fun of it on TV as in, " as a TV personality being told to go places to do absurd things so people at home can laugh at me, Tottori-ken is the last place I would like to go." -- although I liked the bus ride. In most travel, we hop from nice places to nice places, expressly skipping the mundane areas which make up the actual backbone of the nation state; instead preferring the hyper modern cosmopolitanism of tokyo, the indefatigable culture of kyoto, mystical beauty of yakushima -- even the vivacious urbanity of Osaka.
But, basically, Tottori-ken, is, uhh, like the New Jersey -- a place I think you and I have both been, face to face, or at least, nose to armpit of America -- and I have a certain affinity for places like this. Anyway, at the port complex, where theres is plenty of wifi (read: live blood of modern human being). The ticketing woman is obviously russian but speaks perfect Japanese (better than her english), and is, in fact, out japanese-ing japanese receptionist ladies in terms of politeness, both in speech and manner. her motions are precise, slow, measured like someone doing the tea ceremony. she bows low after handing me my ticket even though i've shown her my american passport and she should know that i, and my fellow countrymen, don;t/doesnt really appreciate stuff like this.
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