There’s a lot of minor stories to share with the world this week, so I shan’t faff about.
Burnt miso ramen. I know it sounds like someone royally screwed up their ramen preparation, but I can honestly say that this was one of the more delicious bowls of ramen I’ve sampled in my time in Japan – including the FLAMING RAMEN I sampled back in 2010.
Look upon ye scorched works o’ noodles and broth.
Fare thee warned, this ramen is piping hot when you first get it. A guy next to me tried to eat it as soon as he got it and his entire face melted off. Then he decided to battle He-Man.* And they give you a bib because it will leave marks if you get it on your clothes. But the deliciousness outweighs all potential negatives.
*potentially a slight exaggeration
Now for the Psychic Boob Naming Test. The name alone is curious, but that’s the only way I can describe exactly what I watched on TV on Saturday night.
So there was five women lined up, all wearing bikinis. Initially, it seemed like the panellists of this particular variety show had to guess who had the biggest boobs. But after one panellist guessed incorrectly, the five women were instructed to jump up and down for 20 seconds or so. Female panellists were enjoying this spectacle just as much as male ones were, by the way. Oh, Japan.
Right. Onto the psychic part. So it turns out this entire exercise was a test for one particular woman. Four out of the five women were named Hiromi, and apparently based on the girth and or size of their breasts, this was hard to determine. They even asked this woman’s mentor or mother whether she thought her apprentice would guess all four women correctly. Her somewhat measured and concerned response was “Daijyoubu desu.” or “It is alright.”
As if this situation couldn’t get more awkward, after the woman asked each contestant whether their name was Hiromi or not, the camera angle would change and the contestant would say, “My name is…” (LENGTHY PAUSE) “..Hiromi.” and then expose her breasts to the woman and the crowd to much rejoicing.
Cue dramatic music when it came to picking the last woman. The psychic takes her time and asks the question…
The woman’s name is…
..
.
Hiromi!
Breasts are exposed and everyone loses their shit. Congratulations, you’re the winner of the Psychic Boob Olympics!
Despite my obvious reservations about this show, it was clear that nowhere else in the world would ever consider having a contest like this.
This week also somehow turned into a work where I ended up in situations with live music being played. On Friday night, I headed to my local bar for one drink and I was treated to a brief set of music being played. There were only two people in the band and they seemed to play for a grand total of… three songs.
For part of this very short set, the violin player was wailing along in time with the tunes he was playing. I’m not quite sure what this added to the listening experience, but people seemed to enjoy it.
On Saturday evening after work, I headed to the Saiin Music Festival. Saiin is part of Kyoto, but a bit further out of the city centre. The place I found myself at was the rear of two alleyways filled with tiny restaurants. This place could’t fit more than 30 people and the large dustbins were sitting nearby.
The first act was these two guys, pictured below.
As you can see, both these guys were wearing Hawaiian shirts and playing acoustic guitars. From what I could decipher, they were singing covers of Enka (purposefully heartfelt Japanese songs) with a slight twist – ie. changing the tempo or changing a word here or there – which was well-received by the audience. This particular act was very entertaining, even if I didn’t understand more than 85% of what was going on. And how many bands these days have kazoo solos? HOW MANY, I ASK YOU?!
The next act is apparently a legend of the Saiin music scene. Here’s a snap.
Before I talk about the music he played, you’ll notice to the left of frame the Japanese kid. This kid was walking around on behalf of his mother and grandmother asking people if they wanted to buy beer or chuhai (shochu cocktail) for 400 yen. It was ridiculously cute. Like, I’m pretty sure that particular bar made a lot of money off this kid walking around and asking people if they want a drink.
Between the two acts, I took a seat at the bar that his mother and grandmother worked at. The kid was then told that I could speak English and that he should practice, so he started reciting the alphabet. Then he said one word. I have no idea why he knows this particular word, but sure enough, as confident as any native speaker would say…
Jellyfish.
This act sung a number of English covers including – Heart of Gold, Love Potion Number Nine and a Bob Marley medley of Three Little Birds and Get Up, Stand Up. Very entertaining with a number of personal anecdotes interwoven with each of the songs, including the loss of a close friend, I believe.
But his opening track hit me harder than any other. To open, he performed a cover of John Denver’s ‘Leaving on a Jet Plane’, which sucked me right back into the moment of me sitting at Melbourne Airport on April 29. Less than an hour before my flight was due to depart, completely unaware of what was in store for me, having doubts about whether or not this was the right choice while feeling extremely grateful for everyone I know and love in my home city when I posted a link to that song on Facebook.
I’m sitting at my favourite bar in Kyoto writing these words. Three months have past since that moment. If I have one regret leaving Melbourne, it’s missing out on seeing my niece and nephews growing up. That’s time I’m never going to get back. I miss friends, family and my cat very dearly too, of course.
But then I have moments where I can’t help but feel I’ve made the right choice. Such a moment occurred this week after I’d finished a latte at the cafe downstairs at my work, when the extremely cute barista handed me a handwritten note that said nothing more than, “Thank you so much. 🙂 Saika”
And other moments, where I end up at an Italian restaurant, talking about sauce and what I can make, only to be asked whether I could bring in a sample for the staff to try – a request which I decided to oblige which ends up with me befriending most of the staff working there and getting free stuff.
I’ve already gone close to 200 words over what I aim to do for these posts, but I’m not even certain how many people read these posts to the bitter end, so I might as well just write and enjoy myself. To close this particular post out, however, here’s another picture.
a great one need your sauce recipe:)