In Tokyo there is always something under construction. Usually the process goes like this….old building torn down, parking lot installed while waiting for permits, parking lot removed, construction barriers installed. As the work progresses this is what can be seen:
I tend to ignore what is going on as the construction site becomes part of the landscape until one day when they take down the barriers, netting and scaffolding. At some point I will look up and think, “Where did that building come from?” It’s always a total surprise to me!
How did I miss a building this tall going in right around the corner????!!!!!!!!
Well…maybe a few places…like Singapore. I have noticed the set up before, but have never stopped to make a purchase. There is a restaurant on the Hiroo shopping street named Plates. Every afternoon they set up a small table holding a plastic crate filled with bags of rolls, usually long sandwich buns, ciabatta, or croissants. Next to the crate is a coffee can with a hole punched in its plastic lid and on an easel nearby is a cardboard sign with a marker drawn roll and the price, 300 yen. You put your money in the can, choose your rolls and put them in a plastic shopping bag hanging from the table. In many cities the coffee can and the crate of bread would be stolen in minutes. I’m so glad I get to live in such a safe place
This morning I rode my bike through Roppongi Hills and decided to take photos of the cool benches on along the street. They are great examples of modern art. I love the sculptures and works of art in my neighborhood. Here are the benches:
In Kingwood, Texas one of the greenbelt trails goes right along the shore of Lake Houston. When I lived there an ancient Magnolia tree grew so close to the shore that I thought it was going to fall in. The trails association saved it when they decided to put in a bulkhead to prevent erosion. I gave that tree a name and every time I skated or biked past I would say, “Hi Maggie.” Kristina told me recently that Maggie is gone. So sad. I love trees and my favorite here in Japan is in my favorite park.
This old gingko tree is in the park right across from the Tokyo Metropolitan library. I think it was included in a post earlier this year about spring. This tree has a massive trunk. My arms won’t reach around it.
I like the unusual shape of the gingko leaves. They remind me of tiny fans.
I haven’t named this tree, yet. I’m still working on it.
When we moved to Tokyo we chose to live where we do because we wanted to lived close to the Tokyo Temple. As I have said before it is a five minute walk from my house and I can see the Angel Moroni from my living room window. My neighborhood also happens to be home to many foreign embassies and thus home to many foreigners. It is not unusual to see both Starbuck’s and Segafredo packed with expats sipping their coffee and chatting with friends.
I have already been away twice this summer. In June, I returned just as school got out and many of my friends were still here (most of my friends have children in school). This morning when I went to get groceries it was much different than it was two weeks ago. First of all, I only passed 3 people on my way there and it was after 10 am. Remember, this is a metropolitan area of 25 million and I pass 3 people at 10am??? The car park was relatively empty. No bikes in the bike lot. Three of the four check stands were open, rare on a week day, but no one was in line. The clerks were making themselves busy arranging plastic bags and breaking up the dry ice they pack groceries in.
National Azabu Supermarket
So where are the people in my neighborhood? They are everywhere but here…One friend is posting on Facebook from Martha’s Vineyard, some are living in their other houses that they keep in the US. Some are shifting their families between grandparents and aunts and uncles, spending as much time with everyone as possible to try and make up for living halfway around the world for 9 months of the year. Others are ferrying their children between sports, music and other camps. For the most part the men are only with their families part of the time. No one takes eight weeks of vacation at one time.
It is a crazy life expats lead. I think we like to think it’s a bit glamorous while at the same time trying to convince everyone that it’s not a big deal.I have tried to convince friends in the US that my life is not so amazing and that I just do the things they do only I have to travel further to do them. My son-in-law laughed when we explained the trips we have coming up before the end of this year, possibly 4 to the US. I have already been in January, April and June (funeral, wedding, birth of a new baby and help with a move). In many ways I do the things everyone else my age does. However, I also went to Cambodia and India this year. I really need to stop trying to convince myself that my life is not crazy. It is my life and it is crazy!
Back to my neighborhood…I kind of like the ghost town feel. Summer in Hiro-o is quiet. Well…I guess I need to get packing for my next trip 🙂 !
We arrived back in Tokyo this afternoon to temperatures in the 90’s and high humidity. Mushi atsui des means it’s hot and humid. Our apartment is finally cooling off with all the a/c units on. I’m off to the konbini (convenience store) on the corner for milk and juice. Groceries will have to wait until tomorrow.
Each neighborhood in Tokyo has a koban. The neighborhood koban’s are small police stations. This is where you can ask for directions, borrow a bike pump to add air to your tires, turn in items that you find, complain about your neighbors or report a crime. That last one is quite rare here.
This bookshop is not too far from my house. They have a fair selection of foreign books and DVDs. They have large Starbuck’s with a lot of indoor and outdoor seating. It is a very popular place. I love their hours!
