Thank you, beloved Starpoints, thank you

Yesterday we left Langkawi, to my loud and violent protestations. Unfortunately changing our itinerary to extend our stay would have meant canceling too many reservations. and would have incurred ridiculous change fees. But don't think we didn't try.

Arrival into KL was uneventful last night, and involved another McD's meal. Since a few posts earlier I promised not to make fun of that chain anymore, I will refrain from doing so. However, I did see two Americans trying to figure out the healthiest option on the menu, and asking the girl working the counter if she had a chart showing the calorie count for each meal. Those of us in the restaurant who understood English couldn't help but exchange glances of incredulity.

Our last day in Malaysia, and incidentally, our last day of our whirlwind Asia trek, entailed visits to Menara KL (the fourth tallest radio tower in the world), souvenir stores, and an authentic roadside dining experience at a place that I can only describe as a local version of KFC (but with far better food.)

Malaysia has proven to be a hidden jewel that should be on anyone's Southeast Asian itinerary. The person who wrote Frommer's guide to Malaysia should be fired, and the book rewritten, because we didn't have a single unpleasant experience while here. Malaysia holds its own with great infrastructure and a family friendly environment. Its people are hospitable, and unusually fond of records - they will proudly lay claim to having the second largest clay pot in the world, or the world's seventh longest cross-walk. Which makes for an interesting itinerary as you try to visit these sites, as any good tourist should do.

With the conclusion of this first part of the Asia trek, I would like to take this opportunity to thank the Starpoint gods, and lament my depleted point balance. Without Starpoints, this trip would not have been possible. For all you budding consultants out there, take note. Traveling on assignment sucks, and there is no worse punishment in the world than having to eat airport food on a weekly basis. However, your blood and sweat does gain dividends - in the form of mileage points as you take those mind-numbing flights to get to your ridiculously remote client-site, and in the form of hotel points as you spend yet another day in a new room trying to figure out how the shower head and alarm clock work.

Over my seven years of consulting with first PricewaterhouseCoopers, and then IBM, I have accrued enough membership rewards points to plan a relatively expense free honeymoon to Australia, buy a big screen TV, purchase furniture (I bought the Westin Heavenly Bed), and plan this trip. But now, alas, my points balance lies depleted, and is barely enough to order a $25 gift certificate to the GAP. There are few things in life that are more humiliating than losing status on your rewards cards, and unfortunately I too shall now join the masses, and have to say goodbye to my momentary flirtation with exclusivity.

But the memories will persist. And this tour has provided plenty - of standing on the Great Wall, dining on the Shanghai waterfront, watching life rush by in Tokyo, retracing the footsteps of samurai and geisha in Kyoto, and experiencing the slice of heaven that is Langkawi.

Hong Kong is up next - a good two months where I'll be learning about Asian business and how to deal with a part of the world that will dominate financial headlines for decades to come. Buckle your seatbelts boys and girls, because this rollercoaster ride is approaching its next thrilling bend...

Oh, beautiful Langkawi!

I kid you not, Langkawi is a slice of Heaven. I haven't been to Hawaii, or the Polynesian islands, or Phuket, or any of a number of island resorts you usually hear about. But Langkawi has to be right up there.

We woke up this morning to a beautiful sunrise, the sort that only ever occurs on non-polluted, crisp, virgin land that we haven't gotten around to screwing up. There wasn't much time to laze around looking at the sunrise, because we were expected at the hotel beach for an island hopping expedition.

Given the resort's remote location on the island of Langkawi, most activities that you take part in are organized by the hotel itself. We had arranged for this boat tour the night before, so after a light breakfast we waded out from the beach to a small motorboat that was anchored a decent distance out into the water. There was this cute, older, French couple that was also with us, and several times while we were splashing out to the boat I thought the tide was going to knock them both down. They proved amazingly resilient, however, and we all made it to our boat without mishap.

I was expecting a guided tour once the boat got going, but this proved not to be the case. Instead, our guide simply sat at the stern, guiding the boat to different destinations throughout the day. At first this bugged me, but I soon realized that there was no point being the control freak I am back home, so instead I gradually relaxed and just let the surprises of the day come to me.

The first wasn't long in arriving, as we rounded an island and came upon a large floating wooden structure in the middle of the sea. Apparently these were common sights out where we were. Fishermen will build floating sea farms - floating wooden structures that have openings that contain all sorts of fish that get trapped inside the nets that trail from the structure. I'm not sure how the fish get caught in the first place, but the farm is cool, designed to catch fish while the fishermen relax - there was a roof that stretched over a big part of the structure, beneath which lay plastic picnic furniture, as well as a hut that contained bedding and a television.

Once back on our little boat, we spent time exploring the many islands that surround Langkawi. Some contained beautiful cave structures that were supposed to be home to bats. Unfortunately, we didn't see any on our little adventure.

The coolest destination turned out to be an island that contained a large lake. We docked our boat on a beach, and hiked into this island until we broke through the foliage to find ourselves surrounded on all sides by tall hills. Before us lay a beautiful freshwater lake, perfect for a dip.

On our way back to our motorboat we came upon some monkeys who took absolutely no interest in us. This one dude was completely fixated upon stripping the flesh off a coconut before devouring it.

Our boat tour concluded by late afternoon, and following such an exhausting morning, it was only right to relax by the pool for a few hours, in preparation for the highlight of our evening - a private dinner on a hut positioned out to sea.

I will write more about the beauty of Starwood points later, but suffice it to say that they came in handy yet again, and enabled Saeeda and I to enjoy quite possibly the finest meal we have ever had.

The evening began at sunset, when our private chef and maitre d' introduced our menu to us. We had previously worked with the executive chef to craft a meal that was personalized to our tastes - I had no idea what I was ordering, but the chef had guided us throughout the process. Now, as we sat in this hut that stood raised on stilts, with water lapping all around it, our chef prepared the meal that we had designed earlier, and served it to us piping hot.

For all the adventure and exploration that we like on our trips, it was nice to kick back for once and completely indulge ourselves. Ah, Langkawi, what an amazing place...

An expensive mistake

Our trip has been remarkably smooth so far. Given that most of it was planned whenever rare pockets of time made themselves available between classes, recruiting, and personal life over November and December, our itinerary has held up pretty well. The amount of time we've spent in each city and country has been just right, the hotels we've booked have worked out as planned, and all the flights have moved us from place to place with minimum disruption to our travel plans.

That changed today.

Granted, we woke up a little late, but by the time we were at the check-out desk of our hotel, we still had 90 min. before our flight left for Langkawi island. The airport was 30 min. away by high speed train, and so we'd make it to our flight counter with just an hour to spare. Perfect for flying domestically.

However, upon checking out I casually enquired how much I'd have to pay in taxi fare, if in case we decided against the train option. The concierge told me that it would be too expensive to take a taxi, given that the airport was over an hour away. Obviously something didn't jive. When we had arrived in KL, it had taken 30 min. by train to get to our hotel, so unless some pretty basic laws of physics were about to be violated, it should have taken us the same amount of time to get back to the airport from the hotel.

It turned out that the terminal for domestic departures was over an hour away, while the separate international terminal, where we had originally arrived, was only 30 min. away. So why had we, seasoned travelers both of us, made such a ridiculous mistake? Both terminals are called KLIA - the domestic one just has LCCT appended to its name.

Now, I'm not trying to exonerate myself, but if I saw KLIA and KLIA-LCCT, I would assume that LCCT was just a sub-terminal of KLIA. Further, since almost all international airports I've flown from have a domestic terminal, I would be justified in reaching this seemingly logical conclusion. But unfortunately KLIA-LCCT is a completely different terminal in a completely different geographical location.

In summary, we missed our flight, and had to rebook ourselves on the next available one, which was subsequently delayed two hours. With all the change fees and rebookings, the overall damage came out to $122, but given how tightly we'd been able to stick to our budget so far (tight to begin with), the change still stung.

Arrival at our hotel, however, made our troubles fall away. The Westin Langkawi is beautiful, and easily the best hotel we have ever stayed at. Our room is spectacular, and looks out onto the ocean. The best part of it is, it's all free - I love Starwood points! For all you budding consultants out there, you may work like a slave dog and never be home to manage a decent social life, but the hotel and airline points help to soothe the pain a little.

I took the picture below while walking around outside the hotel after dinner. In the foreground is one of the hotels many infinity pools.

Reconnecting with my faith

The weather in KL reminded me of Pakistan. The humidity slapped you in the face the moment you stepped outdoors. The sun was bright and piercing, so we were forced to squint. Getting tanned was not a problem but a nuisance. Still, all of this was a welcome change from the frigid temperatures of China and Japan. It was nice, also, to finally ditch our winter jackets and bust out our lighter clothes.

Because we had so little time in KL (today is the only full-day that we had), we opted for a driving tour of the city, which took us at a blazing speed through all the significant sights, which included stops at the royal palace (the guard looks like I’ve lost my marbles):

The national mosque, where they had special garments for the tourists in shorts to put on before entering:

The architecture inside was beautiful (the second picture is of the inside of the main dome):


KL architecture in general is a wonderful blend of Islamic and western. The Petronas towers, which together comprise the second tallest building in the world, are a great example:

The highlight of our KL romp, however, wasn't even on the tour itinerary. We had been dropped back at the hotel, and had the whole afternoon ahead of us, so we decided to visit the Islamic Arts Museum. I have to say, this museum had a profound impact on me.

The United States is, in my opinion, one of the greatest places in the world to practice freedom of speech and religion. Still, it is predominantly a Christian nation, and as a Muslim I have to adapted to the environment. I offer prayers by scouting out an empty classroom during breaks (or an empty conference room when I was working). Life doesn't slow down when Ramadan rolls around - I am expected to work the same long hours, and complete the same amount of work. Religious celebrations such as Eid are not public holidays, and come out of the vacation balance. But none of these are an insurmountable challenge - they're just facets of being a Muslim in America. It has been the events of the last few years, however, that have caused me to lose faith in others who falsely claim to practice the same religion that I do, and then perpetrate acts of complete lunacy.

So as a member of any religious group would do, you try to find solace in things such as your community, or local religious events, or by visiting the city museum when an Islamic art museum rolls into town. But I didn't realize until now, when I visited the Islamic Art museum in KL, how I had only ever seen the tip of the iceberg at even renown institutions such as the Smithsonian, or the New York Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Here, in a developing Muslim country, Islamic Arts Museum did such an amazing job of explaining the beauty of Islamic art that it took my breath away. I had seen examples of Islamic calligraphy before, but never been confronted with walls and walls of art from all over the world - Africa, China, Egypt, and South Asia. I had seen silverware and pottery from the Islamic Renaissance before, but I had never seen rooms of jewelery, headpieces, armor, bridal wear, coinage, scientific instruments, and furniture from centuries past. I had seen pictures of the mosques in Mecca and Istanbul, but had never been confronted with full scale models of the Blue Mosque, the Alhambra palace, the Haram Sharif, the Taj Mahal, and the Dome of the Rock -models that took up an entire wing of the museum. And the centerpiece of it all was the Kiswah, the covering that is draped over the cubic structure that sits in Mecca, and towards which all Muslim pray, that was the highlight of the second floor. This particular kiswah had covered the Ka'aba in 1966, and had since been removed and placed in the museum. The cloth was a magnificent black, and the beautiful calligraphy in deep gold jumped out at you.

We spent hours at the museum, reconnecting with all that is beautiful in Islam. For anyone who wishes to learn more about this faith, I recommend this museum. For any Muslim who finds themselves within a day's drive of Kuala Lumpur - this is a place they MUST visit.

Tipping - the curse

I have to be honest with you regarding my desire to come to Malaysia. From the very beginning, I didn’t really want to. Part of it was because of a lack of knowledge of the country, part of it was because the Frommer’s guidebook we had bought didn’t speak very highly of the place (“cab drivers in Kuala Lumpur ought to have their tires slashed”, and “the bus and train system is hopelessly confusing”), and part of it was because I had wanted to spend more time in Japan. However, as with the rest of this trip, preconceived notions were the first casualty upon landing in Kuala Lumpur (or KL as the locals refer to it).

The airport was one of the nicest I’ve been to, and the high speed train to the city one of the smoothest rides. The palm trees lining the train tracks and stretching into the distance were a riot of green, and made me wonder about the phony attempt that places like LA make at “greening” their cities with, of course, non-native palm trees.

Our hotel was perfectly located off the last train stop, right in central KL. The lobby was beautiful, and the service – oh, the service. Guys, I have to apologize for harping on this topic again, but I feel compelled to mention the smiles and bows that greeted us from every member of the hotel staff. We were then personally shown to our room by a member of the hotel’s “welcome staff.” We were engaged in friendly conversation regarding our trip, life in the US, and our plans for the next few weeks. It was a wonderful, personal touch. And there was no tipping involved – not to our “welcome manager”, not to the bellhop that eventually delivered our bags, and not to the wait staff at the restaurant where we ate that night.

And here is where I digress into the evils of tipping. It is a bane. A curse. A cross that we in the US are forced to bear in the name of recognizing good service. I want to clearly precede this tirade by stating that I am not a miser, and will happily part with money if I receive outstanding service (and unfortunately, even when I don’t). Heck, for the seven years I worked as a consultant I lived on an expense account, and never had to worry about how much I was tipping anyone when I traveled (which was a lot) – uncle IBM picked up the tab every time. But it never really hit me how unfair this practice of tipping is until now, where I have not had to tip anywhere in China, Japan, or here in Malaysia.

I vividly remember one incident in New York city when I was traveling there for a client a few years ago. I checked into the swanky W Hotel in mid-town – a place I stayed at for the convenience and short walk to work, but which was normally occupied by trendy socialites dressed in the hippest wear and with attitudes of great angst. Which must have also rubbed off on the hotel staff, because this particular Monday I had arrived late in New York because of a delayed flight. I had to check my bags in because my room wasn’t ready at the time, and then quickly walk to work. The bellhop who took my bags made a great show of taking possession of my tiny carry-on, and then informed me that he would be taking care of my bag from this point on. I assume I was expected to be immensely relieved, but I couldn’t imagine who else would want my old gym clothes, sleepwear, and change of clothes for the next few days, and why they would require such close guarding. There was a pause, where I felt I was expected to say something, so I ventured a simple “thank you.”

Another pause. I received a pitying look that said that I obviously was missing the point. The bellhop then said, “I will not be around later this evening.” And then he stood there staring at me.

I was flummoxed. This man had every right to be wherever he wanted to be later that evening – he didn’t have to tell me, so why was he? Confused, I put my hands in my pocket, and that’s when it happened. Everything made sense to me. Upon my placing my hands in my pocket, this man’s eyes had immediately followed, and his demeanor had instantly relaxed. In his mind, the next act would be my withdrawing my hands holding a few dollar bills, which I was supposed to hand to this man with expressions of deep gratitude. Unfortunately for him, I had no cash on me, and had planned to go to the ATM later that day. So, although I knew what I was expected to do, I kept my hands in my pocket. I didn’t have time for this man’s games.

“Since you’re not going to be here this evening, can I get a claim ticket for my bag?” I asked.

Oh the disgust that registered on his face! It was as if I’d flung my dirty laundry in his face. With a ridiculous grimace, the guy proceeded to take out a claim ticket, fill it out, and contemptuously hand it to me. I smiled. A big, gracious smile, not because I wanted to be nice to him, but because I knew that this would gall him even more. Then I turned around and left. Behind me I could hear my bag being thrown onto a luggage cart. Whatever dude – screw you.

Ah, it was cathartic just writing that.

So it has come as such a pleasant surprise that handing money for what is expected of someone produces surprising looks in Asia. Granted, tipping is not customary in some of the other places I’ve been to – Europe, Australia, Pakistan. But the Asian people are genuinely confounded by my pressing some money into their palm for helping open a cab door for me, or for bringing my bags into the room. These things are expected of them, and they don’t expect anything in return. If someone goes above and beyond, THAT is when you tip. Just as you should. You don’t just tip because you know that your waiter makes minimum wage and relies on tips to complement his salary. You don’t just tip because someone helps you with a bag that you don’t need help with. You don’t just tip for people doing their jobs. You don’t just tip because you are guilted into doing so.

The answer is obvious – price the tip into the good or service that you purchase in the US. I’d be happy to pay more for my food if a service charge was already included, as it is in other parts of the world. I would then tip only if I received great service, re-enforcing that positive act. A tip in the US no longer conveys the level of service rendered. Instead, it just becomes a massive pain in the neck when 11 friends have to divide $137 between them and calculate a mandatory tip. The mental math makes my quantitatively challenged self break out into cold sweats. And how much do you tip your hotel maid? The concierge? The shoe-shine guy? The Peapod online grocery delivery guy? The wedding planner? You need a guide just to figure out what is expected of you in all sorts of situations. Tipping, the way that it is set-up in the US, sucks.

So, once again, apologies for this diatribe. Today was a transit day, and there wasn’t much excitement that happened, which is why I have taken the liberty of going on about tipping. Tomorrow, however, plans to be a full day. KL, here we come!

Final thoughts on Japan

We made it back to Tokyo from Kyoto last night in time for dinner. This was going to be our last proper meal in Japan, so we decided to go to one of the nicer restaurants near the hotel. The food, yet again, did not disappoint, and both Saeeda and I ate our fill. By now the quality of the food has stopped surprising me. Instead, I am constantly taken aback by the level of service we receive at every dining establishment. Everyone acknowledges your entry into a restaurant. Everyone – the maitre d’, the wait staff, the chefs, and the person cleaning tables. You can call on anyone anytime during your meal, and they will come immediately, leaving the same way to make sure that they meet your needs as quickly as possible. When you leave, everyone (and I mean everyone) will bow and bid you goodbye. Keep in mind that we haven’t eaten at fancy restaurants while in Japan – we have received this level of service no matter where we’ve dined. I wonder how disappointed Japanese traveling abroad must feel when they receive what passes for service in the West.



This morning Saeeda and I thought it would be a shame to have been in Japan and not have seen the Imperial Palace, so that was the one place we visited before returning to the hotel and leaving for the airport. Incidentally, the Imperial Palace was underwhelming. You are not allowed into the palace itself, and have to satisfy yourself with a picture taken from a bridge across a moat (below). Very disappointing. Still, this last stop wrapped up our visit to Japan, and after a flurry of trinket shopping at Narita airport, Saeeda and I boarded our flight back to Hong Kong.


Japan is fascinating. Its people, its history, its culture, everything. One of the things that I’ve struggled with the most is how its cities and infrastructure could just as easily be those of cosmopolitan New York or London, but Japan's people and culture are such that no westerner can easily understand them.

For example, I am not used to people older than me bowing to me in respect. I am not used to female bellhops running up to me to take my bags. I am not used to the formality and beauty of the tea ceremony. In Japan Saeeda and I encountered levels of service we had previously never imagined, and it embarrasses me to think what treatment these same Japanese must receive when they travel abroad.

Of course, all is not golden here. The population decline is a severe issue. Through all our time here we saw very few young couples with children. Instead, it was much more common to see elderly Japanese. For a homogenous society such as that of Japan – one which voluntarily closed its borders to the outside world for hundreds of years – allowing foreign workers into their country (which they will need to do to counter the shrinking population) is going to cause friction, to say the least. The strength that comes with a diverse society is absent, and will have to be developed from within. Newspaper articles I read during my stay here also commented on the increasing move towards nationalistic policies that will help confront the threat from China – this too will cause ripples given Japan’s militaristic past. However, above all else, Japan is a country of beauty – beautiful people, beautiful traditions, beautiful places. As we left Tokyo, Saeeda and I knew that we’d be visiting again in the not so distant future.

Zen gardens and scroll shops

Our final day in Kyoto, and Saeeda and I found ourselves dragging somewhat. The constant travel has begun to take its toll, and our initial jam-packed days are giving way to more leisurely itineraries. This morning we visited only two temples, both of which were, yet again, stunning. Kinkakuji temple (pictured above), was actually a shogun's residence during the Edo period, and was covered in gold leaf by orders of the shogun - apparently the dude lived in filthy luxury while his people starved. The other temple we visited was Ryoanji temple, site of Japan's most famous zen rock garden. I had never seen a zen rock garden before this, and had always wondered what the fuss was about. Experiencing the garden in person, however, convinced me of the meditative powers of the garden. To see line upon line of precisely raked sand, with rocks cropping up in precisely calculated places to convey a feeling of mountains piercing clouds, or perhaps islands rising from the ocean - this sight instantly puts one at ease. The picture I took below was of all the tourists, each of whom would round the corner to the garden and fall quiet immediately. If not pressed for time, I would have remained there for a much longer time.


With all our major sites out of the way, Saeeda and I decided to wrap up our stay by going for some leisurely souvenir shopping. In one of the promotional guides that we had been handed by our hotel concierge, Saeeda had found a tiny, obscure entry about a scroll store somewhere in old Kyoto. Keep in mind that all of Kyoto is old, so this place being old just meant that we'd have a bear of a time locating it.

Although the subway and bus system in Kyoto is excellent, with signs in both Japanese and English everywhere, we were still in a foreign land, and eventually you get turned around. We were at an intersection, unfolding and refolding several different maps, trying to get our bearings, when we heard someone ask us in accented English where we were trying to go. I turned to look, and realized that I had spotted this same gentleman who was talking to us a little while earlier on a bicycle one block away. At the time, I had thought it curious to see a tourist biking around Kyoto, but had dismissed the thought because Kyoto is a very bike friendly place. If someone wanted to see it on a bicycle, they very easily could.

I gave the man the name of the street we wanted to go to, completely expecting him to scratch his head and apologize for not knowing where that was. The street was not a major thoroughfare, and was tucked away in a small neighborhood according to the article that we had. To our complete surprise, the man did some mental calculations and then gave us directions that proved to be completely accurate. Before we parted, I asked him where he was from and what he was doing in Kyoto. He replied that he was from Australia, and had been teaching English in Japan for the last sixteen years. I couldn’t help but laugh. An Australian teaching English in Kyoto was giving directions to a Pakistani couple in the heart of historic Japan. The world is truly a tiny place.

We found the scroll store we were hunting for, and it turned out to be a delightful little shop that smelled of old paper and which had scroll paintings hanging everywhere. There was a little ledge at one end of the shop, where a small Japanese man sat cross-legged behind a table, surrounded by aging brown boxes containing yet more scrolls. Everything we looked at was beautiful, and the storekeeper was extremely helpful, despite his broken English. Saeeda and I finally picked two scrolls that we liked – an ink painting of a crane set on green silk, which was Saeeda’s favorite, and a hazy painting of a clouded moon, with bold flecks of cherry blossom petals in the foreground, which I liked. We couldn’t afford both, and had no idea if one was supposed to bargain at a place like this.

The shopkeeper, sensing our dilemma asked us if this was our first time in Japan. We told him so, and he thought for a while, smiled, and said he would give us both for the price of the more expensive one. I was happy, because it would have been a tough call for me to pick one over the other. By the shopkeeper’s own description, both scrolls were a hundred years old – of course, we had no way of corroborating this, especially since the price for the scrolls wasn’t what I, in all my antique dealing experience, would expect of something that was a hundred years old. But contrary to the bazaars of China, where no matter how hard we haggled we just knew we were being had, this environment was completely different. From the demeanor of our Japanese shopkeeper, to the look of the store (which was right out of a Harry Potter novel - check it out), at no time did I sense that I was being taken advantage of. I for one have decided that I now own two, hundred year old scrolls that I purchased from a charming store in old Kyoto.

Respect for McDonald's

One thing that has become clear in Kyoto is that the Japanese know how to set up peaceful environments. Much of our itinerary today took us through temples and neighborhoods whose general layout and architecture we had become familiar with already. What I couldn’t get enough of was the serenity of each new place, especially since every temple approached it in a different manner. One place would have a zen rock garden, its sand combed perfectly in straight lines and circles, with rocks peeking out here and there. Another would have a moss garden, brilliantly green and delicate to the touch. And another would simply engineer the course of a stream so that it pooled pleasingly in certain areas, and flowed freely in others.


The weather had held up until today, and we’d been extremely successful in seeing whatever we wanted in sunny, albeit cold, weather. Today it began to drizzle non-stop, but whereas initially I thought it would lessen our sightseeing, it actually enhanced the beauty of the things we were seeing.

Lunch proved to be a stark reminder that there is a limit to being adventurous. Emboldened by the fact that a few days ago I had tried sushi and really liked it, I decided to follow recommendations and have lunch at a traditional tofu restaurant. We sat on tatami mats as we were served a set course meal that consisted of no meat. Given Kyoto’s temples and many monks, the neighborhood food establishments in the area make it a point to cater to vegetarian tastes. However, I had trouble with the tofu that we were served – strange tastes, textures, and smells made sure that the meal was a challenge, and an expensive one. Oh well, live and learn.


The meal continued to bug my stomach well into the evening, when, back at the hotel, I had to cave and call the concierge to find out the location of the closest McDonald’s. I don’t think I can ever make fun of McD’s ever again. Granted, in the US I enter the Golden Arches under dire circumstances only, but there is a certain safety blanket feel to the restaurant when you are abroad. There is a reason that foreigners flock to it – the food is recognizable from back home, you know the tastes, you remember the familiar colors, and probably most importantly you know that there will be clean restrooms available for use. We’ve had some great food during our trip, but the Big Mac and it’s friends have been there for us when we’ve needed them most. I hereby promise to refrain from outright ridicule of McDonald’s.

Geisha

Sanjusangendo hall is a temple on the eastern side of Kyoto, and is important because of the length of its main hall, and because of the number of “thousand armed statues” it houses. There are rows of the things, stretching into the distance, and one can only imagine how awe inspiring the statues must have looked when brand new and shiny. You as a visitor are only allowed to walk the circumference, until you come to the middle, where sits a huge golden Buddha statue. I’m not a Buddhist, but the way Sanjusangendo is designed, you can’t help but be awed.

Saeeda and I started at Sanjusangendo, and spent the rest of the day walking around eastern Kyoto, going from temple to temple, just taking in the beauty and history of the region. The funny thing is that we also kept running into the same people on our walking tour – by the end of the day, we had seen this one guy so often (at least 5 times at different places) that we were laughing and waving at each other.

I’ve included pictures of the more interesting things along our walk, which included a massive graveyard built into the hillside.

A vending machine that sported a prominent picture of Tommy Lee Jones, who couldn’t look any grumpier in the shot. Can anyone really look that wrinkly?

I thought this was kinda cool – Ginkakuji temple (our second temple on our walk) had a place where supplicants could wash up before entering. The water fountain was in the shape of a dragon.

The prize sighting came towards the end of the day, as we neared the end of our walk and found ourselves standing in Gion, the ancient geisha district. I was off to a corner, but was able to get a full-length shot.
Gion, by the way, is an otherwordly place. For those of you who have read “Memoirs of a Geisha,” you will know what I’m talking about, because the book and reality are little different. Although surrounded by modernity on all sides, Gion is a neighborhood that houses less than 200 geisha, when at one time this number was in the thousands. I had not known this until I read the book, but Geisha are not prostitutes, and are instead skilled in the arts of conversation, samisen-playing, tea ceremonies, singing, and all-around entertaining. Their sole purpose is to make their male patrons feel like kings.

Not anyone can afford the entertainment of a Geisha – you have to be properly introduced and have to have significant financial resources to support your sponsored geisha. The exclusivity was apparent in Gion, because the streets were quiet with tenements that had no windows or screens, but behind which you could hear gentle laughter and the music of the samisen. You knew you were an outsider, and everything was designed to further that feeling, if for no other reason than to make those that had access to these establishments feel even more privileged. Every so often a door would slide open and we’d see a geisha in a beautiful kimono and in startling white make-up, quickly step out into the street and walk with purpose to another building a few blocks down, where a door would automatically slide open and then immediately close behind her. Too quick for me to catch a picture, but enough to transport you back through the centuries when this would have been commonplace.

After a long day, Saeeda and I decided it was time for dinner, but in a strange town where few people spoke English, and where fewer establishments carried English menus, it was a challenge for us to find a place we liked. We walked into a few different places, but the food always looked a little too adventurous for us. Finally, we were in a poorly-lit narrow alley that I would normally have avoided, when we saw a lit doorway with a menu outside containing a few broken words of English. Too hungry to care, we walked in.

The room was weakly lit, and had space for only a bar, which had a working kitchen behind it, and a few bar stools. We were squeezed into a corner and handed a menu to decipher, from which we ordered a few things and hoped for the best. But as the food started arriving my fears fell away. Everything that came, from the sushi appetizers to the tapas-style main dishes, was delicious. I realized there was jazz music playing in the background and other couples around us. The chef, who stood working a few feet away and was completely visible over the bar, worked with gusto at his orders, and the food arrived sizzling hot in front of us. I have to say that our meal turned out to be the best one we’ve had yet, and we had to literally stop ourselves from licking the plates clean. Sometimes faith in luck and chance pays off handsomely (the picture below is of our chef and hostess.)

When you're thirsty, drink Sweat!

We’ve been having trouble waking up as early as we’d like. Something to do with not having any immediate responsibilities. I realized that I haven’t had to prep for a class, or get ready for a meeting in almost a month, which has started making me lazy. I love it.

Anyway, we didn’t catch the Shinkansen bullet train to Kyoto as early as we would have liked, but it meant we had to rush to get things done. I ran to the neighborhood grocery store to pick up some snacks, and discovered that they also carried spare shirts, ties, and undergarments. For the time when, you know, you need eggs and milk and … a spare shirt. Although I guess if you think about it, isn’t that what a Wal-Mart superstore does?

I also discovered a gem at this grocery store – a great energy drink called … well, check it out.

I’ve taken enough marketing classes to know that this baby would have some trouble flying in the US.

The bullet train that runs up and down Japan acts more like the local subway train. It leaves every 5 minutes and takes you to every major stop along the way at breakneck speed. The whole thing is highly efficient, which just makes Amtrak and it’s troubles appear even more embarrassing.

Saeeda and I checked in to our hotel in Kyoto and established my theory as a fact. All bellhops in Japan are indeed female. Bizarre. I had that same attack of anxiety as this tiny lady grabbed our bags from us and hauled them to our room for us without even a moment's hesitation.

Our first tourist visit established that our Kyoto experience was going to be completely different from that of Tokyo. Kyoto has never been ravaged by natural disasters, nor was it a target of the WW II bombings that destroyed almost all of the other major Japanese cities. Therefore, the number of historical sites that exist in Kyoto is staggering. We only had time this first evening to visit one place, so we visited Nijo castle, which used to be the local shogun’s residence. Among beautiful gardens and halls were cool architectural features such as squeaking floorboards that had purposefully been installed that way so that no one would be able to sneak up on the shogun. I tried all my ninja skills in an attempt to see if I could walk across unannounced, but I had no luck. That shogun knew what he was doing.


We ended our first day in Kyoto by attending a traditional tea ceremony. The rituals were cool, but they had me wondering if anyone ever really enjoyed having tea this way. So many things to remember – how to hold something, how to say something, how to offer something. I’m usually one who wolfs down my food, so having to do everything slowly and properly was somewhat of a struggle.

Japanese teenage fashion and the world's busiest Krispy Kreme

The Meiji Jingu shrine is the most important shrine in Tokyo, and getting to it was simple using the subway. However, because it was Sunday, there were hordes of people around, including teenagers dressed in ways that blew the mind. I know I've already said a little about the fashion sense of the Japanese people, and how everyone wears Gucci/Prada/LV (some of it has to be fake, no?) Beyond that, though, there is a definite affinity on the part of Japanese women for short skirts/shorts combined with long boots. The shorts/skirts sometimes get impossibly small, and the boots impossibly long. For the most part, though, dress is stylish. Unless, you are a teenager, in which case all bets are off

I took these pictures on our way to Meiji Jingu shrine. Along the way were hordes of teenage kids hanging out. Not quite loitering, because that is aimless. No, they were definitely standing around with a purpose and ... posing. For the opposite sex, for the tourists, for anyone. Fascinating.

Saeeda and I found a nice souvenir store that stocked traditional crafts, and we spent a decent amount of time getting things for back home. Saeeda even tried on a kimono, which I thought looked great on her. We realized afterwards that we were still a little dissatisfied with our touring of Tokyo, because we had as yet to come across what we could call the Japanese equivalent of the American downtown. To the best of our abilities, we determined that this would be the Shinjuku neighborhood, which didn't disappoint.

Incidentally, in Shinjuku we came across the world’s busiest Krispy Kreme, with a mass of people lined outside, waiting in an orderly queue to get in. The smell was divine, and I wanted to join them, but I rounded the store corner and realized that the line stretched into the distance - honestly, there had to be a 45min. wait to get into the store. I love my donuts, but I have limits too. The only thing I'd consider waiting that long for would be March Madness tickets.


Lunch consisted of excellent sushi. For those of you who know me, I don’t like sushi at all, but as with the rest of the food we’ve had on this trip, I’ve come to realize that ethnic dining in the US is a pale reflection of the real deal. I was quite satisfied with our meal.


Finally, as tourists in a mega-city's downtown, we had to make the requisite stop at the tallest building around so that we could take a shot of Tokyo lit up at night:

Temples, museums ,and Kabuki

English is not widely spoken in Japan. That says a lot, coming from someone who just spent almost two weeks in China, a country less developed than Japan. Not that I was expecting everyone I met in Tokyo to be fluent, but I did expect more than just broken English, including from the concierge staff of the hotel we stayed at.

The other thing that struck us as odd was how overpriced cabs are here. Taking the taxi to downtown Tokyo easily sets you back $300. Taking taxis around town was going to be equally expensive, but fortunately the alternate form of transportation – the subway – turned out to be one of the best in the world. The Tokyo subway system leaves the New York subway system, which I would call the most complex and extensive that I have had experience with so far, in the dust. And it takes you everywhere.

For our first full day in Japan we followed the walking tour outlined in one of our guidebooks. Starting at the Hama Rikkyu garden, which is a downtown park, we took a ferry to Asakusa, which is where old Tokyo still refuses to disappear, and makes itself felt in the street vendors, the kimono-clad women, and the shrines that populate it. After visiting Sensoji temple and the colorful Nakamise Dori (below), Saeeda and I grabbed lunch in the old quarter before heading to the Ueno museum district.

The Tokyo National museum was superb. We had arrived hoping to allocate the two hours before closing time to its five buildings, but it took us that long in the main building alone. Part of my fascination with this country comes from its unique history, shaped not only by its natural geographical isolation, but also by its hundreds of years of self-imposed political isolation. In a country with a population the size of that of the US, concentrated in a land mass the size of California, of which only x% is habitable, Japan had two paths it could choose from for its continued development. It could either devolve into anarchy, with a policy of survival of the fittest, or it could establish an intricate social system of interaction espousing civility, cordiality, politeness, and the complete de-emphasis of the individual. It is the second path that, in my opinion, explains the tradition and sophistication of even the most mundane of activities – pouring tea, arranging flowers, or folding paper – that the Japanese have lifted to an art form. The Tokyo National Museum did a great job of displaying artifacts that explained some of these activities, and Saeeda and I left saddened that we had not been able to explore the rest of the museum.

From the museum district we hit Ginza, which was shopping heaven. Shopping has to be the Tokyo residents number one hobby, because the malls here are huge, and are everywhere. We also noticed that everyone we saw was very fashion-conscious, sporting the latest designer labels and wearing completely coordinated outfits. The men, when they were not carrying the purses of their wives and girlfriends (Saeeda kept trying to make me do the same), were carrying their own man-purse and boasted outfits and hairstyles every bit the equal of their exquisitely dressed female counterparts. Sorta made me feel like a slob.

Ginza also houses a Kabuki theater (below) where Saeeda and I wanted to catch an act of traditional Japanese theater. The cool thing about Kabuki is that it is split into self-contained acts that tell different stories, and you can come and go as you please. This meant that we did not have to stay for the entire three hour performance, but could catch half of it while not missing out on the experience. The stories were easy to follow, made more so by the audio guide that we rented that helped explain the nuances. An interesting fact that caught Saeeda by surprise was that all actors in Japanese kabuki are male – the most talented of which play the role of women in the plays.
All in all it was a wonderful time, and we retraced our steps to the hotel after a very full day.

Bellhops, toilets, and food

My fascination with Japan is immense, and strikes me as curious. Why I would want to study the language, the culture, and the people of an island nation so starkly different than my home country of Pakistan? But that’s the way it is, and as our plane circled over Tokyo, I found myself getting excited to visit the one country I've always wanted to.

Our first culture shock came when both Saeeda and I were struck with the politeness displayed by everyone we approached. This was taken to an extreme at our hotel, where even elderly gentlemen manning the concierge desks would bow deeply and run, literally, to fetch the relevant maps and printouts that would help answer our questions. What struck us as odd, and made me quite uncomfortable, was that all the bell hops were all women.

They insisted on taking our bags from us, placing them on trolleys themselves, pushing these trolleys to our rooms, and then lifting the luggage to place it in our rooms. I kept trying to help them, but they would have none of it. I don’t know if this is something particular to just our hotel – I guess we’ll find out as we change hotels in the coming days.

The really cool thing that I came across as we settled into our hotel room was the toilet. Yep. That’s right – it’s the little things that please me. I had heard about Japanese toilets, but you have to see them to believe them. Ours came complete with instructions, warning signs, and a control panel. Ah the functionality that was built in! The bidet system is undoubtedly one of the greatest inventions of all time, and I don’t understand why the uncouth masses of North America refuse to adopt the practice. But the Japanese elevate the post-defecation cleanup process to an art form. Their toilets coddle your booty by alternately spraying, washing, and heating it. If there is any part of me that will long to return to Japan after our departure, it will be my buttockal region.

It was getting late (because I was spending so long in the bathroom), so Saeeda and I decided to head to a neighboring mall for some food, and leave the better dining experiences for the coming days. However, we were pleasantly surprised with the food that we had. Just as in China, even regular Japanese food tasted so much better than some of the best Japanese food we were used to in the US. We feasted on gyoza, noodles, shrimp, and miso soup, all of the items being extremely tasty. After China, we can’t wait to try all the food here, especially since pork is not going to be as big a problem on an island nation that loves its seafood.