Kung Saan Nalang Tayo Mapadpad/The Things I’ll Tell You Next Time

Inigo

First time ko mag-out of the country in more than a decade. Actually, first time ko ever magpalit ng time zone… kahit isang oras lang mapapa-recoil ka nalang kasi iiba ng system time sa smartphone mo kahit di mo ramdam bc it feels like the world itself is ever so slightly gaslighting your body clock through literal time dilation but ill stop that train of thought there because ayoko maging crap-strung sci fi piece itong Heartfelt journal entry ko so yeah parang pumasok lang yung being ko sa ibang server

what rly drove home na may hidden personal narrative tong japan trip na to was being bookended by two cramped cebu pac flights and just the general pacing of stuff ive done over the course of five days, which is unsurprisingly NOT enough for the amount of interesting stuff you could do in tokyo. try to minmax your schedule all you want with wire-thin time allowance and walking while eating konbini onigiri (an effective and delicious choking hazard), magpupuyat ka lang rin. id like to think i gave it a good shot, opting for a solo day out of the given to get away from having to carry other people’s agendas. syempre ayoko mag tokyo disneyland AKA highway robbery brought to you by the US military-industrial complex’s entertainment division… ayoko mag hogwarts store na kakabukas lang kasi TERF shit and Lore Gore… mga ganun naman.

did not expect to see you here/when did you fly in? (shinjuku)

that said, i must sound really selfish for not wanting to enjoy these quintessential family activities but hey i felt the need to personally claim a part of this trip bc its been ELEVEN years since ive been out the country as in guys di pa naghiwalay yung magulang ko yan yung last time na nag-passport renewal kami. nauna pa mag japan yung middle sister ko in 2017 tsaka nag thailand rin yung youngest sister ko last year. am i in the wrong to ask for a day to myself? i hope not, at least.

the first day was Rough. oh my god. an overseas red eye flight at 5 am. tas sobrang cranky kaming lahat as soon as we got off the airport bus (sa putanginang Shinjuku Station of all places) dahil sa puyat and overstimulation. tapos nag slight salitan na kaming mga magkapatid pa otw to the airbnb kasi hirap hanapin at first and just lugging around like six rollerbags of overpacked clothes for what felt like a whole ass 5k without the bib and dri-fit jersey. that, and itrained. and it was the ass end of summer in tokyo. bad vibes and bunions were guaranteed.

pangit kabonding (harajuku/shibuya)

examples of this:

the look of utter amazement iris (youngest sister) had upon trying the Humble Don Quijote Kamote. “this is such a Mom thing.” Mom tries it. She says “wow” thrice, each with slightly increased vigor. “may ganito rin tayo sa pinas pero di ganito katamis.” in reality, we all just really needed the fiber.

FOOLISHLY pointed to a shinjuku smoking area/pig-pen when we were trying to find a place to eat when my mom was almost 18k steps in for the day. mistakes were made. justified crashout. love you mom.

before even entering a Donki, i was discussing which the best don quijote jingle was with my sisters. iris says its the new one (dondondon donki) and i said it was the old one (donki donkihote) and i was swaying the moment i stepped inside. it doesnt matter, theres crack in them both.

we had a mount fuji tour, which was solemn and awesome. it was rural japan, three hours away from the shrill and hypnotic buzz from tokyo’s infamous obsession with signage and the screech of hundreds of train cars, like veins with high blood pressure. a friend said that the main enemy in tokyo is overstimulation, and a trip to fujinomiya helped remedy the sensual numbness from hearing the machinations of millions of people reflect sound off concrete and frugal economic development.

people may think this is a vibe but there a damn brand in the middle of my shot (fuji)

this was easily the most meditative part of the trip, watching small-town japan getting away with whispering at each other. my sisters were not as ecstatic, preferring the bustle and surplus of the city rather than the necessity. things could be better, yes, but im not waiting for things to get worse. our tour guide, andy, was a charming older gentleman with a barely-decipherable accent, but the man knew game. he shuffled through tidbits of information like tokyo being a (relatively) new capital city, the significant people that grace the different bills of yen, the facts and figures of the sacred mountain, and a noteworthy request to not eat ice cream on the bus. like he wouldve preferred the crumbliest fucking loaf of bread over a softserve.

i bought a grape shake here and it tasted like straight up wine (fuji)

anyways he made the trip to fuji because he reminded me so much of my lolo who moved to the states; a true History Channel Warrior. ive been seeing glimpses of souls of people i love back home, embedded into what is both miniscule and massive, engaging in reciprocal nourishment and caring without realizing. Naol.

i saw my loved ones almost everywhere I went:

i saw everyone in shimokitazawa. my loved ones manifesting in the jewel cases of their favorite albums in the disk union that played wilco and dismemberment plan for house music, the obscured musical instrument shops with prices that would shame certain fb marketplace users back home, the mini department store ACTUALLY called the Village/Vanguard (iykyk), the OTHER music venue called Shelter (the same one used as inspiration for Bocchi the Rock AFAIK), the pockets of young people smoking in inconspicuous places, and the Good Eats (that i couldnt eat because i was saving for CDs and guitar pedals).

ive only watched the first episode (shimokitazawa)

this is what candy corner feels like for grown ass music nerds (shimokitazawa)

i saw everyone in koenji. the bars and pocket venues, the gut-activating aroma of open air yakitori being grilled, cocktail-crazy individuals ripping karaoke covers to barely audible minus-ones, the specific headbuzz brought on by loud music in tight spaces while trying not to get anything spilled onto you, the absolutely legendary (and possibly dangerous) Scene Diplomacy Missions that would happen with Elev8 and TFL members going out on the town, and the steez of the “sketch” element.

now, imagine this on a weekend (koenji)

now, imagine THIS on a weekend (koenji)

i saw everyone in shinjuku. the gachapons hidden in side alleys, the little houses with cigarette butts littered in the gutter, the small sets of stairs and alleyways populated by workers on break and mattresses/books/furniture that residents want to give away, the Borderline Unethical amount of options for cigarettes and alcohol at the deluxe Don Quijote, the older individuals taking their quaint little walks (with both hands intertwined behind), the little minimarts that hide Nepalese food courts (which i regrettably didnt get to try), and the specific peace found in finding a quiet place to smoke at the dead of night.

hung out (drinking) on these steps after 11pm for every night in tokyo (shinjuku)

hair of the dog (shinjuku)

i cant say for certain that a week would be enough for you to see everything you want to see anywhere on earth; to experience everything you might want to experience, and indulge in everything you might want and need…. but it felt like everyone was there with me. to come home with fresh new eyes to see is a blessing and privilege that not many are given, like eating food youve eaten back at home but an origin level of We Know What We Do. im coming home very grateful, having accomplished a rare feat… a full feeling with no extra weight (that isnt pasalubong). i hope to see you all if i ever come back, and i hope to see you if you come around.

(airport)