Hiroshima: Paper Cranes & Okonomiyaki

Hiroshima was not what I expected. I don’t know what I thought I’d find there, but I suppose I thought there would be more physical evidence of the devastation of the A-bomb, even though it was half a century ago, outside of the scope of my lifetime. Instead, the town was a bustling metropolis of tall buildings, streets in good repair and people bustling to and fro, going about their daily lives.

Locals were proudly cheering on their local baseball team – the Hiroshima Carp – who are featured on the city’s sewer grates (imagine if Toronto’s sewer grates had the Maple Leafs or Raptors logos on them?!?!) even though the team lost to the Osaka Tigers yesterday in what looked to me to be a big game. There were a large number of signs and t-shirts saying “Let Peace Prevail On Earth”, indicating the city’s vigorously anti-nuclear stance, but other than that it could have been any other medium-sized Japanese city.

I did very little exploration in the town, just walked and walked, from my (excellent) room at Hana Hostel near the train station, across the river, into the downtown and then out the other side and into the Peace Park, where I cried at the sight of the Atomic Dome and the Children’s Memorial and the thousands and thousands of paper cranes. I was quite surprised at how tall the trees across from the Peace Park were; they looked more than 50 years old and healthy, but perhaps being at the epicenter of the blast meant they were spared incineration, like the dome.

On a lighter note, I also sampled the local cuisine. On my way back from the emotional excesses of the Peace Park and memorials, I avoided the drinking quarter, amusingly marked on the map as being “A bit of a dodgy area“, and paused at a store simply named Okonomi Yaki, after the food it serves (like naming a pancake shop “Pancakes”) and went inside for supper.

I was given a selection of crazy filling options for my Japanese pancake, but chose the simplest one to see what the dish was like in its basic form. My Hiroshima okonomiyaki had a crepe-thin tortilla-esque base made of flour, then a filling of shredded cabbage, fatty bacon and skinny soba noodles (making it a “modern” yaki), then a fried egg as the topping. I passed on the local fillings which included octopus, squid and shrimp.

You can watch the video of it being grilled below. My favourite thing was watching the whole process happen right in front of me, with scientific precision, and eating it straight off the grill using a combination of a metal spatula and hachi (chopsticks). My least favourite thing was the brown sauce on top; it had an odd, sour-sweet flavour that my palate just couldn’t warm to. With a tad more tang it would have been HP Fruity sauce and the dish would have been yumtastic, but it was way too sugary for my taste buds.

Osaka: Sleeping & Shopping in Amerika-mura

Just checking… you guys know you can click on the Polaroid collages, and it will take you to my full Flickr album for that post, where you can see full-sized versions of the little pictures, right? Right?? Sorry for insulting any HaXX0rz in the crowd, but my Mum is reading this, so I had to make sure I wasn’t uploading gigs of images for nothing.

Many people I’ve spoken to (Skye included) seemed nonplussed about Osaka, including people I’ve met on the road. Personally, I liked it a lot. It had a relaxed, casual feeling that Tokyo lacked. Kind of fun, goofy, not taking itself too seriously. The streets in Amerika-mura, where I stayed at one of the few capsule hotels in Japan that will accommodate women, were bustling and covered in neon and speakers and graffiti, but not in an overwhelming way – the scale was just right, the buildings, sidewalks and streets cozy and harmonious.

It was a challenge actually finding the Capsule Hotel at Asahi Plaza. The directions start out well enough, “*By Subway Midosuji Line, Shinsaibashi station, Exit 7. Walk towards Namba, turn right at the third traffic light”, but that’s not super helpful if you don’t know what direction Namba is in, and the street signs at exit 7 aren’t going to help you orient yourself. I walked the wrong way at first, but turned around once I saw Chanel & Louis Vuitton – no hotel charging only 2800 yen a night was going to be in that neighborhood – walked back, and found the right street.

The next instruction, “go straight approximately 200 m.” was less useful. Even once you stumble upon the unassuming, poorly-labeled Asahi Plaza, the entrance on the street you are walking down is not the right one. You have to go back out the door, walk to the street, turn right, turn right again, and go in a completely different door. For n00bs who can’t read kanji, it’s confusing. I might have said, “Pass the temple on your right, then look for the gigantic, 8 foot high bowling pin on your left. You’re almost there!”. Direction writers: use landmarks, plsthx.

Once I got in and registered, however, I LOVED it. I don’t know why we don’t have these damn things in North America. My little capsule was like a house from the future. Even the font used for the capsule labels looked imported from the 24th century. Super cool with its tiny television set showing me a horribly dubbed episode of Mutant X, its brushed-steel digital alarm clock panel, its handy anti-claustrophobia round mirror and its tiny pull-down fabric screen door. Just spacious enough for one, and perfectly dark and quiet once I turned the lights out. I feel like we could solve the homelessness problem with these, somehow.

The communal bathroom was clean, with the toilet paper ends all folded neatly into little triangles – yet another strange custom in Japan. I had a key to the outer dorm door, and another key to my locker for keeping anything I couldn’t fit into my capsule. (Note: everything, including me, my huge suitcase, my backpack and gigantic shoulder-bag all fit into the capsule at once, with room to spare.) The locker also had a clean towel and pair of pyjamas. There were showers and a hot tub and laundry and vending machines and a reading area with electric outlets and comfy chairs. It was like living in residence, but on a smaller scale.

After I got settled I ventured outside to see the wonders of Amerika-mura. I’ve already written about the insane number of cyclists and bicycles parked everywhere, but there were also many takiyaki stands (will mention in next food post) and dozens of shops selling cool “America-style” clothing. Wicked shoe store with bizarre Converse and Nike sneaks for sale, an awesome hat shop, lots of hippy and Rasta themed stores.

But my favourite shop in Amerika-mura was this random store that looked tiny from the street, and appeared to sell bikes and maybe some gag gifts like rubber chickens and exploding cigars (and indeed, it did sell all of those things), but that went back and back and back like a bowling alley and displayed an unbelievable collection of… well, very cool (sugoi!) junk. Novelty cameras, novelty tea kettles, novelty toilet paper, funky rings and studs for those peculiar piercings you don’t want people to know about, motorcycle helmets, weird bleeding-edge contemporary music CDs, belt buckles, incense, toys, stickers, care bears, books, magazines, porn, cupcake-shaped forks, a gigantic 8-foot long stuffed banana in a hammock… David Lynch and Terry Gilliam very likely own stock in this store.

I’m not even scratching the surface of what was on offer in that one shop, or in Amerika-mura and the incredibly vast Namba station underground mall, which was equally cool and worth exploring (also, home to Beard Papa’s cream puffs… delectable!). I sort of want to ditch Kyoto with all its fancy ancient temples just to go back and keep browsing in Osaka. I’m sure there was some corner I missed with the Holy Grail in it…