Michael Lamendola

Kon’nichiwa Asuka II Part Seventeen - Oh The Places You’ll Go

2011-05-02T18:44:00.001-07:00

At the moment we are on sea day number two of six on our trip from Japan to Singapore. Outside my cabin, the theatre techs are clearing the stage from a famous Japanese singer’s show, and outside the theatre passengers are milling about, deciding whether to go ballroom dancing in Club 2100, listen to The Namana Band in Palm Court, make believe they are gambling in our casino, or rest up for another busy day at sea tomorrow. As for me, I’m just sitting here looking at pictures.

It’s been a long road travelled on the Asuka II, about ten and a half months worth to be exact, including four continents, eighteen countries, and over fifty Japanese cities. While I would normally take the time to explain what life is like during the final weeks on board, there honestly isn’t much to say that hasn’t already been said. Since we last spoke I’ve travelled a bit around Japan, mostly to places I’ve already experienced like Yokohama and Kobe, and like I mentioned earlier, the last week is pretty much a blur of sea days at an average speed of eighteen knots.

So, I was thinking… how do I put a cap on all of this? As I was looking through my pictures, I thought it might be interesting to go back and pick my favorite shot from each Japanese port I’ve visited. Since I am writing this on the fly, this could end up being redundant, as some ports I literally have nothing to say, except for… well… it was in Japan. But, at the risk of putting you through the agony of looking at someone else’s vacation photos, I am going to blindly march on. Hopefully I’ll have something anecdotal, witty, or shamelessly oblivious to say. (If you're dying to read something with a little more substance, take a gander at my Cruise Ship Blog Directory) Let’s just jump in and see what happens:

ABURATSU

Strangely enough, I’m beginning at the end, as Aburatsu was one of the last places I visited before taking off for Singapore. Outside the ship there was some water, some land, and not much else, so I went for a jog. What you see here is a large version of a Japanese “wishing statue” for lack of better term, and I actually have one!

As you can see, this one doesn’t have his eyes colored in… that’s my job. When you get one of these things, you make a wish. When you do, you color in one of his eyes. When it comes true, you color in the other. As you can see, I never got around to it. Other things on my shelf include a “Stone Grandpa,” which can be found all over the island of Jeju, South Korea, a tiny Daibutsu, and a paper mache squid and rabbit.

ABASHIRI

This, like many of the ports in Japan, I only visited once. On this day I went for a jog and took three pictures. Seen in front of the ship is a big pile of dirt or coal. It wasn’t long after that I started to formulate my equation of the amount of fun a port can offer… that formula, once again, is:

(Size of the pier * piles of stuff on the pier) inversely equals amount of fun to be had in port

AKITA

During a late night, and after a Japanese meal, we found ourselves drinking tall boys of Kirin by the water. Since I was two thirds of the way there, I bummed a smoke to complete the holy trifecta of white trash.

AOMORI

This night we were part of the Aomori summer festival. Everyone wore pretty much the same yucata (a light kimono), and marched down the street yelling “Ra Se Ra” over and over while people beat drums and played flutes, while large, internally lit paper-mache floats nipped at our tails in the hot and sticky Japanese night.

AWAODORI

The other big summer festival we took part in, only this time the marching was done in defined areas, and adjudicated by a group of experts. This time, the chanting was “Yac-te-sa,” but it was still unbelievably hot. You can see more pictures of both these parades, and some nifty video in part five: Dancing In The Streets.

FUNAKAWA

It was hotter than hell this day, but as we sailed off, the locals still sent us off beating drums and dancing. Many ports did this, each in their own unique way.

HAKATA

This little girl was walking around with her parents outside a temple. I think this is some sort of child’s rite-of-passage, but I don’t know any of the details.

HAKODATE

The view from the top of Mt. Hakodate. Located in Northern Japan, this is also the place where I had LIVE SQUID… that video is just below:

Of course, you can learn about all sorts of Japanese delights at my food blog... Oishi!

HAMADA

Another port, another pile of wood. The equation stands.

HIROSHIMA

During this night I explored the city with a brother of a coworker of mine, and among the places I saw was the Peace Dome, one of the few surviving structures of the infamous bombing.

ITO

We visited Ito during Japan’s summer festival season, and like many cities, they celebrate with fireworks. We were anchored out in the bay, and the crew got a front row seat on the bow (which is a crew only area).

IWAKUNI

This city is best known for the bridge seen here, and the castle behind it. I forget the name of the bridge. The castle is called Iwakuni Castle, which is easy to remember. Of course, the bridge could be called Iwakuni Bridge for all I know. The foot bridge is historical and a tourist attraction, so there’s a small toll involved for getting across. The funny thing about the price of admission is that you can pay for a one way ticket, or round trip… you know, in case you decide that once you see what’s on the other side of the bridge, you might decide to stay. It could happen.

KAGOSHIMA

While this city has an active volcano that spouts grey smoke every 45 minutes, I still like this picture better. Below me is an American used car lot, complete with a fairly large Statue of Liberty poking out its roof.

KAMAISHI

One of the many ports we visited where we were only there long enough to pick up and drop off passengers during our charter cruise season. This one had a pretty dramatic sail in, with lush mountains and a large Buddha watching us, making sure we don’t take nothin’.

KAMAKURA

Here I am sitting with Daibutsu, one of the largest Buddhas in Japan. Kamakura is a quick twenty minute train ride from Yokohama, in case you’re ever in the neighborhood. You can see more pictures of my buddy Daibutsu, and Hasedera, by revisiting this quick video below!

KOBE

Children in Japan, even the big cities, aren’t used to seeing gaijin walking around. Many times, when they are out in groups, they’ll come to me and say “hello!” over and over. On this particular day, I was walking around a shopping mall when I was literally mobbed by these kids. They were pulling my pant leg and jumping in front of me, each trying to yell “hello” louder than everyone else. While the Japanese love to flash the peace sign in pictures (and it must start at a very early age), I find it amusing that they associate The Fonz with America. That’s pop culture for ya.

One more for Kobe… Every year in December, Kobe puts on its Illumination Festival, in remembrance of an earthquake that rocked the city back in 1995. This light tunnel went on for four blocks, and the line to get in snaked around the city for, and I am not kidding here, at least twenty more.

KOCHI

I’ll admit that I did not take this picture, but I was here. I took a long jog away from the ship, and after running over a long white bridge to an island, and down a bunch of cement steps, I find this little shrine atop a small craggy rock cliff looking over a crescent beach.

KOMATSUJIMA

Was driven by my friend Akko to the next city over for a little Temple tour… best shot of the day.

KOZUSHIMA

This was the first festival I witnessed (although I was not a part of). Again, it was agonizingly hot outside, and while these dudes were jumping and dancing with their float, other dudes were soaking them with water. Eventually, the whole group, shrine included, marched right into the ocean.

KUMANO

Another summer festival destination, this city is known around Japan for having the best fireworks display. So, the Asuka II, and the other three Japanese cruise ships, dropped anchor outside the city for the special event.

KYOTO

Considered by many to be the most scenic place in Japan, especially during the cherry blossom season. Well, I got here by way of Osaka on March 23rd, which is about two weeks early. What you see above is the only cherry blossom blossoming in the entire city of Kyoto on that day.

MAIZURU

In Maizuru I got my hands on a map, and hit the mother load of shrines, seeing at least half a dozen in one day, including a hike to one at the top of a mountain. Shown here is a typical Japanese cemetery, which from what I’ve seen, are usually built up a hillside.

MIYAKO

Usually you see these guard dogs in front of a shrine, and I thought I would give him a hand.

MURORAN

Another day, another shrine.

NAGASAKI

Hanging out in the Nagasaki Peace Park.

NAGOYA

Nagoya Castle. A couple of things tie together the castles in Japan, or at least the ones I’ve seen. One is that they all look the same. Two is that for some reason, America destroyed them with bombs.

NAHA

Naha is a city on the island of Okinawa, but while we docked close to the city, it was just like all the rest… restaurants, department stores, shops…

and a coffee shop that’s stimulating.

NANAO

You can find anything in a Yakko Yen (Japanese dollar store).

NIIGATA

While I’ve never really mentioned it, Japan is pretty crazy about observation towers, and there are dozens of them scattered around the country. The Niigata tower, shown here, is unique in that the observatory slides up and down the tower itself.

OFUNATO

Hanging out with a baby Buddha atop a mountain.

OKAYAMA

Some days all you want to do is swing around an authentic Samurai Bushido blade that is hundreds of years old, and has actually killed some one. Wait, you don’t do that?

ONAHAMA

Onahama, the city as a whole, loves Hawaii, and the entire time we were there hula dancers were doing their thing.

OSAKA

Since Osaka was my gateway to Kyoto, I didn’t really do much there… but I did visit the Universal Studios City Walk!

OTARU

Here I am with my good buddy, Marimokkori.

SAKAIDE

Well, we had an overnight, and well, we were in the middle of nowhere. Took this picture as I was walking back to the ship, dejected and defeated.

SAKAIMINATO

Didn’t think I had anymore of these, did you?

SEA DAYS

Hell yes sea days count! I have no idea how many I’ve seen working on Asuka, but coming off the heels of the Oceania cruise, it feels like damn near a hundred. Anyway, here’s Mt. Fuji getting in the way of a Japanese sunset.

SENDAI

Obviously I am excited either because we are in another port where we are unable to go ashore, or because the port is full of nothing but container cranes and piles of stuff. You know what? I think it was both.

SHIMIZU

On the top of a mountain sat one of the more colorful shrines I’ve seen.

SHINGU

Another in a long list of towns where following your nose can be a 50/50 event. One of the only notable things I ran across during my two visits here is a somewhat elaborate entrance to a tiny shrine built at the base of a large tree.

TANEGASHIMA

Laurel and Hardy have found a second life selling auto parts.

TOBA

Here I am with another temple. I am only showing you this picture so the city of Toba won’t feel bad, because in actuality, this is the picture I want to show you:

Now, I took this picture back in August, 2010. I thought it was just a funny looking bear with a hat, lantern, and abacus. It wasn’t until I saw a larger version of the thing in Kyoto that I realized a few things:

Supposedly, it’s a raccoon dog.
Supposedly, it’s a mascot for Shigaraki Ware, a brand of Japanese pottery.
It has really, really, really big balls.

TOKYO

Every time I look at this picture, I fall out of my chair laughing. There are so many things going on with that guy… why the wig? Did he coordinate it with his tie? And the shirt sleeves? Plus, what is he looking at? Yep, when I think of Tokyo, I think of him…

oh, and the night my buddy Steve and I went out to a couple of clubs in Roppongi. After a night of drinking and dancing, the only thing left is to attempt daunting feats of dexterity on escalators. Ahhh… treasured memories.

UNO

Eating Yaki Niku with my buddy Jun, who was the first one to teach me dirty Japanese.

YOKOSUKA

Ever see a vending machine with an AED built in? Only in Japan…

YOKOHAMA

Here I am with my buddy Maria, lifting a parade float (like the ones I saw in Otaru and Kozushima)

Never got tired of seeing Yokohama as we were sailing in, or in this case, sailing out, and this is one of the nicest shots I have of the city.

And there you have it! Since we visited some cities only to drop off or pick up passengers and leave, I don’t have pictures of every place we stopped, but the count has got to be over fifty. But each place, even the ones that may not have offered much more than a mountain of wood or a intricate slide made out of rollers, is unique and special for its own reasons.

And now, as I finish this blog, the Asuka II is probably somewhere between Africa and Europe. I can only say that much because outside my window are trees and grass, and they ain’t moving at any speed, miles or knots. Yeah, I’ve been off the ship since April 12th, enjoying catching up with friends and family. I’ve still got some things to talk about, and a few more pictures and video to share, but I’ve taken my last picture of Japan… for now. More to come.

Keep on Livin’ The Dream,

Michael Lamendola

(Hanging out at the Yokohama International Passenger Terminal)

Kon'nichiwa Asuka II Part Sixteen - Oishi! (The Food Blog)

2011-04-01T02:48:00.000-07:00

At the moment the Asuka II is pushing the water back at over eighteen knots as we take almost five hundred passengers home to Yokohama. As for me, I’ve just come back to my cabin after finishing a couple of cappuccinos and a mediocre book up in the Vista Lounge, and along the way two of my coworkers asked me if I’d been to the mess yet. Funny they should ask, because, while I hadn’t, I was about to sit down and write a little about all the food I’ve had in Japan.

It’s actually something I had no preconceived notion of before my arrival, since in my limited scope of the world’s different cultures, I figured Japanese food was either sushi, or the stuff I’d had from Chinese places. Hey, I never claimed to know then… but I have fairly strong handle on it now. Let’s start with what many associate with Japan… sushi:

So, first off, sushi in Japan is really Sashimi, which is just raw sliced fish. The picture above was taken in Asuka’s alternative dining restaurant, which specializes in… what else… raw fish. You’ll notice there are only a few rolls on the plate, which do not contain anything but rice and tuna, with no American style fillers like imitation crab, avocado, or cucumber. Then there’s everything else… raw tuna and other fish lying on rice, some squid, egg (remember? The Japanese love eggs), caviar, shrimp… and the gray piece on the right? teriyaki style cooked fish (which was awesome).

Let’s take another look at a plate of raw fish, this time served to a group of us eating out:

That’s a lot of fish! Aside from the absence of things that have the word “roll” as the suffix, the notable thing here is that the wasabi is generally added to the fish before it is served (the yellow dollops are ginger), at least in the nicer places. I find this preferable, since I tend to accidentally overdo it with the green stuff, dilating my sinuses wide enough to pass a thirty dollar watermelon.

Yeah, a thirty damn dollar watermelon. While this is the only photographic evidence I have, they really do cost around 2,000 to 2,500 yen (and since the yen is 78 to a dollar right now, that works out to thirty bucks… yikes). Oh, and the watermelon is probably about half the size of the ones we buy at the store for a dollar… that’s just cruel. But let’s get back to the fish, shall we?

Yes, the Japanese like their fish cooked as well. These small guys are actually bar snacks (these were prepared fresh for us in a bar in Ofunato), and can be found almost anywhere. Here on Asuka II, we get ‘em mixed with the peanuts:

These are much smaller, and crispier. The mix also includes little puffed rice balls that taste like… what else? Fish.

Oh, and just as I was about to post this blog, I eat this:

What is that, you ask? It’s a big fish’s big damn eye socket… and I am pretty sure that’s its EYE sitting there too… the video of me eating this isn’t that eventful, but from what I gathered, you eat the meat around the socket, which wasn’t that bad, and not the eye itself… or at least they weren’t challenging me to do so. Wanna see what the unfortunate fish looks like?

And I thought a whole pig with an apple in its mouth was strange… this one wins by a mile.

But, some of you may recall that while sampling seaweed in Canada, I thought it tasted fishy, to which the Canadian asshole replied, “actually, the seaweed tastes oceany.” Well, maybe he’s right. So if that’s the case, then the Japanese like the taste of the ocean, and of course the ocean has just as much seaweed as it does fish.

Here is a packet of seaweed, most typically eaten with soups. It’s nothing more than what you get wrapped around your rice and avocado in the states, although this time it’s dried. This stuff is as cheap as crackers too, as a big damn jar containing at least a hundred of these packets is about 500 yen.

Before we depart from the subject of raw fish, let’s touch on a typical Japanese sushi joint:

Here you’re looking at the aftermath of a lunch for two. In the background you’ll see a couple of conveyor belts, which in this case circle the prep area in the center of the restaurant. The top line contains the food, and the bottom has fresh cups for hot tea and water. While you sit at your booth, or at the bar, raw fish passes by you at a leisurely pace. It’s basically a take all you want, and eat all you take experience. Also, hanging around the restaurant are signs that show the different colored plates and how much each is worth. So, the green plates may only be 280 yen, but may not have anything better than some rice and egg...

or… corn… while the more expensive red plates have the salmon, tuna, or more elaborate creations. When you’re done, you get the waitress’ attention (se ma say), and she’ll tally up the damage. Oh, and speaking of corn…

During the winter, the vending machines in Japan dispense both cold and hot beverages. First of all, why we don’t have this convenience in America, I have no clue; the same machine manages to spit out both hot and cold cans. But take a look at the selection here, from left to right: Suntory Boss coffee, Boss Black coffee, Boss Coffee with milk, hot chocolate… and… what the hell… corn? Yeah, corn soup. So I tried it, and it’s a hot can of corn soup, with actual corn floating inside… and it was pretty good. Still, notice our friend Suntory doesn’t put his pipe smoking face on a can of corn, no damn way. Anyone who knows Suntory knows he is a kick ass, take no prisoner, bad mo-fo boss of them all since 1992 who doesn’t have the damn time for sissy drinks with corn. Come at him holding a can of soup will only get you bitched slapped by a set of hairy knuckles full of Boss Black… no shit.

Still, it’s not just raw fish and drinkable corn around here, no sir… remember yaki niku?

This was my birthday meal, and since I am in Japan, yaki niku is the only way to go. Typically you’d be cooking up your thinly sliced cow in a sunken, gas fired grill in the center of your table, but since I was sat at a window front table in a seventh story yaki niku joint, they instead brought a bucket of coals and set it under a silent but powerful vent-a-hood. In case you’ve forgotten, this method of cooking meat was brought to Japan from (South?) Korea, and the meat is typically marinated and well marbled. Most of the stuff is meant to be cooked, including cow tongue (which is awesome), but some of the other stuff, like liver or raw meat with egg, is meant to be consumed raw…

Oh yeah… now that’s actually Kobe beef (and Kobe egg, I imagine). It’s covered in some kind of sauce, maybe teriyaki, which is mostly a mix of soy sauce, sake, sugar. And, although you’d never guess, raw meat and egg is cho oishi!

Still, not everything around here gets the thumb’s up. One day I had come back from a jog in a port that didn’t have much to offer. Jogging onto the pier, I stopped at some tents the locals had set up to entice the pax to take a piece of their city home in some edible or drinkable fashion. One of the girls approached me, giggling (which, I must say, never gets old), and hands me a green candy sized wrapper. Now, a couple of days previous the giggling girl handed me a hot cup of miso soup, which after an hour’s jog goes down just as smooth and easy as an angry porcupine, so I was happy to have some sweet candy instead. So, I opened the sucker and popped it in. After a moment, I turned my back on the cute Japanese girl and gagged the candy out into my hand. Lesson learned: Look at the stuff you’re putting in your mouth.

Here’s the candy. What’s that writing say, you ask? “WASABI SEAWEED.” Son of a bitch… no offense, Japan, but that’s some foul candy. Still, don’t take my word for it.

The face says it all, no? But, that’s not the only strange candy I’ve seen around here…

Yeah, cheese Kit Kat, and yeah, it’s a chocolate Kit Kat with a cheese/chocolate coating. Funny idea, but it doesn’t taste bad at all. Supposedly there are lots of other interesting Kit Kat flavors out there, although I’ve only seen this, green tea, and Coke & Lemonade flavors.

Now, to be fair, the Japanese don’t walk around chewin’ little chaw pouches of seaweed or cheese and chocolate. When it comes to sweets, they love beans.

Sweet beans, or “atsuki,” to be exact. Normally, you’d see them like this, tucked inside a ball of flour and/or rice. I want to say that for me these are something of an acquired taste. I mean, sweet beans, no matter how sweet, are still beans. Every now and then I’ll take a bite of one, and sometimes I won’t be able to eat bites two and three. I guess for us “gaijin” it may never seem like a nice thing to eat after a full meal, but the Japanese would beg to differ. While I didn’t have my camera handy at the time, one night in the ship’s dining room I literally had a plate of beans for dessert. Up until then, I had never had them simply by themselves. And you know what? THEY TASTED LIKE BEANS!!! And not even as sweet as baked beans, which I’ll admit I never really liked.

Finally, on the subject of beans:

I saw this display in front of a random restaurant, and at first I thought, “Now that looks good… pancakes with blueberries and ice cream!” Then I got closer… nope… them is beans… huh.

Oh, and Japan loves its food displays…

Many, if not most, of the restaurants around here have a display window showing you exactly what you can get inside. All the food is fake, and actually very believable… even the soups. Oh, the soup…

If you were to ask me what’s the one thing I’d eat every day for a week in Japan, it would not be yaki niku. Nope, it’d be udon noodles. Doughy and thick, udon noodles are typically served in a hot soup in which you can add thinly sliced pork or an egg (of course!). Also, when you go to an udon joint, you also get to choose from a variety of tempura items. Tempura is basically Japanese fried food, and it tends to be lighter, less crispy, and less greasy than what you’d find in The States. You can get fried tangled balls of onions, squid, egg (of course!), or, my favorite… pumpkin.

No, really! Pumpkin! Slice it up and fry it… you’ll wonder why we only use it in pies. It is really, really good! Of course, ramen noodles are also very popular out here, but for my yen, I’ll take Udon any day. Now, since I am not a fan of sweet beans, what do I like to have for dessert?

Monaca! I’ve mentioned this one before, too, but it needs repeating. It’s nothing more than soft serve ice cream totally incased in the stuff they make the cone from. You can get it plain, or with chocolate or jelly (shown here), among others. WHY IS THIS NOT IN AMERICA? This is the only drip proof ice cream I have ever experienced, and I’ve eaten it even in the middle of winter.

Oh, and then there’s this:

What can I say? It’s a hot dog bun full of spaghetti, with a small helping of corn. I think that pretty much sums that up… moving on…

In Japan, you’ll see a few American establishments pretty much everywhere, such as McDonalds, Starbucks, and KFC. If you’re in a hurry, though, you can head into a 7-11. Just like in America, they have quick snacks and drinks, but what you won’t find is that rotating hot dog machine… and taking the picture above into consideration, you can understand why. I mean, try and keep the spaghetti from getting all tangled as it rotates around the heat lamp. Anyway, what you can grab, if you’re in a hurry, is the following:

Maybe I’ll stick with the spaghetti hotdog…

But now it’s time for the Main Event! One thing the Japanese really, really, really love is SQUID! “Ika” can be found anywhere, and in many different forms. Words and pictures simply cannot encapsulate just how large of a squid selection the Japanese have, and since many of you may never get to experience the vast array of tasty squid for yourself, I’ve made an interactive video for you to enjoy. So, without further ado, it’s time to play IS IT SQUID???

That’s a lot of squid, friends…

And that’ll just about do it. Sure, I am leaving out a ton of stuff, but it’s just too hard to follow something like that…

Keep on Livin’ The Dream,

Michael Lamendola

(making a chopstick pyramid after some spicy Korean food… and yeah, getting two chopsticks to lean on each other like that is hard.)

P.s.

For those of you that missed it, I ate a little something called "live squid,” or “katsu ika” in Hakodate last year. The process of catching and eating your squid is certainly unique, and if you haven’t seen the video, it’s right here waiting for you…

Kon’nichiwa Asuka II Part Fifteen – Engrish

2011-03-22T00:54:00.001-07:00

At the moment the Asuka II is pulling into Osaka, but that’s not what’s important here. You knew it would happen eventually… this blog is dedicated to all the things I’ve seen that have struck me as odd over the past ten months. From poor grammar to nonsensical instructions, even pictures… the following things have made me pause for a moment.

Okay, hold on… before anyone starts to piss and moan, let me clearly state that I am not picking on anyone here. As a matter of fact, the pictures you’re about to see aren’t from any one place. I’ve seen strange things in Japan, China, Australia, South Korea, Russia… even America (well, American territories)... and to be fair, I really don’t have as many things to show you as I originally thought. You can visit websites like "EngrishFunny.com” and see daily updates of strange and bizzare uses of the English language all over the world, but from my point of view there really isn’t that much to see that’s blatantly (and humorously) wrong. That’s because, I think, the younger generations in countries like Japan are more familiar with English than previous generations. Finally, don’t anyone get their panties in a twist over this… I have shared these pictures with my friends (many of whom happen to be Japanese), and they find it funny as well.

Now then, that little disclaimer out of the way, there are some funny things to share. Let’s just jump right in…

Most of the time, this is what you see. It really isn’t wrong, if you think about it. All the napkin is trying to say is that vegetables and bread are meant to be together… makes sense. I mean, if it didn’t, would we have croutons? And besides, if people enjoy stale bread crumbs in salad, wouldn’t they enjoy fresh bread more?

Yeah, I’m pretty sure this is supposed to say “Shoes Clean.” The “R to L” issue has nothing to do with a person’s intelligence; it’s simply because the Japanese don’t have the “L” sound in their alphabet. And they know this… and they try really hard to make that “L” sound. Those of you who have listened to any dialect tape by Dr. David Alan Stern will remember that for any dialect he was teaching, he would tell you where in your mouth the dialect was “placed.” For Japanese, it would be in the back of the mouth; for English… the front. Therefore, in my humble estimation, the Japanese aren’t used to striking the back of their teeth with their tongue, which is essential in making the “lah” sound. So, when my Japanese friends ask me the difference between “glass” and “grass,” I have them say “la la la” as if they were singing, then say “glass.” That seems to work, along with explaining the imagery of dialect placement. See? You’re learning something…

This one isn’t wrong… I just like it. What is “Uncle Meat” selling? Vintage American clothes.

This one was taken in Saipan (so technically, I’m picking on the USA). I just love this shirt! “Hunting Action Monster Hunter.” That sounds so backwards, but so bad ass! Plus, I like the fact that the joker in the blue jersey thinks I’m taking his picture, since I didn’t want to rent a jet ski or deck chair. Yeah bra, hang loose.

Taken in Tokyo Disney, after which I exclaimed “that’s what she said.” And speaking of Disney…

Guess we’re not in California anymore… or maybe I am… finally, I saw this outside the Enchanted Castle:

Just be careful with how hard you swing that pick axe.

This was taken in Sydney, so my Aussie friends probably don’t even think this is funny. I think Manly is the name of an island, or dock? I don’t know, but I envision the ferry to be powered by two beefy and hairy arms that swat the water from behind the boat… I mean, isn’t that what you think of?

This one I see almost everyday… and you know, it does actually make me smile. This sign hangs on the inside of a crew door that leads to the Vista Lounge, a bar on deck 11 that is situated at the front of the ship. I am unable to explain the significance of the monkeys, and why they are coming at me from some sort of perspective, or why the person on top is eyeless and bald, or why the big monkey looks like he knows something I should… but when I see this, I think that I indeed am the best smile of Asuka crew member!

Funny thing, Asuka II maybe the biggest offender when it comes to poor grammar. Take for example:

There are at least a dozen of these signs on doors that lead to exterior decks 7 and 11, and all but one have “beware” misspelled. It’s a strange mistake, and one that cannot be attributed to poor translation. In any case, I try to “eware” of strong winds anyway, because you never know…

Shoo wee! I sure love me some rice puddin’! I could eat me a whole mess a’ that stuff!

Finally, for Asuka II, this one probably takes the cake (or rice puddin’). This paper’s instructions pertain to a specific way to set the table for a theme night in the dining room. Other than that, I have no idea.

You can file this one under “truth in advertising.” This leads to other examples of signage that isn’t wrong, just up front. For example:

In America, we’d say something like “please do not drink this water. It is reclaimed and could cause serious health issues.” But the Japanese are way too efficient for all that… this water isn’t good to drink. Simple and to the point. You drink it, it’s your ass.

I love this one! Advertising can’t get any more simple and to the point: Good smell. Good curry… Bad smell. Bad curry. And, if you smell bad curry, it would probably have a sign over it simply stating “This isn’t good to eat.” But, if you do choose the bad curry, you may have to use the bathroom at a moment’s notice. In your haste, you may forget the proper usage of a toilet. Well, thankfully there’s this handy diagram:

Again, you may be shaking your head, but remember what the old school Japanese toilet looks like? This sign is for those who may be experiencing the new fangled method for the first time… I know, I know… but if you owned a restaurant and were constantly having to clean people’s used curry off the floor, you’d make a sign like this too.

Taken in Russia, it proves that spray paint needs a spell check.

Maybe I’m being a little selfish here, but I envision the owner of this business putting these words up so his employees will feel more at ease when he tells them to work weekends and holidays. You see Fred, in order for you to achieve true inner peace, you’ll need to work New Year’s Eve until 11PM, then come in January 1st at 7AM to open up. Oh, and can you work on Flag Day? I have this thing at my lake house…

Again, this bag speaks the truth. I have tried to start many conversations with “certain domestic animals have gifts of language,” and all I get are strange looks.

Taken in South Korea… here’s what it says: The sky is low the clouds are mean. A Traveling Flake of Snow Across a Barn or through a Rut Debates if it will go A Narrow Wind complains all Day. How some one treated him. Nature, Lick Us is sometimes caught Without her Diader… then it repeats most of that until the sign runs out of space. What is it advertising? No clue…

This advertisment, while found in Japan, was clearly taken someplace more… Arian. Either way, if that girl runs with her mouth open, dogs within a hundred mile radius will all cock their heads. And on the subject of handbags...

This one, again, needs some explanation. The word "Bakada" is actually made up of two words... "Baka" is Japanese for stupid, and "Da" is usually the suffix of important Japanese family names. Put the two together, and you get, essentially "Stupid Family" University, which is most likely "the most stupid university in the world. See? Even the Japanese make fun of improper English.

Did I have a great time at Bar Coma? I forget…

I can’t say a thing about this… it’s a paradox. An unholy marriage of puppets holding puppets.

Some things I’ve just stopped questioning, like Don Quijotes. What is it? Kind of like a claustrophobic Wal Mart. You can find anything in these multi-leveled stores, but the spaces between the shelves are about as wide as a piece of paper. Why do they call them Don Quijote? I have no idea… none. But they do have a theme song that is played on loop in the store! Kind of makes the random literary reference a little endearing. And no, the theme song does not sound like “Man of La Mancha.”

Again, there is really nothing wrong with this sign, but I love that the major difference between a man and a woman are her ENORMOUS HIPS! It looks like she took the saddle bags off a Harley and strapped them to her belt! Still, upon closer inspection, other differences include color, collar shape, and strangely enough, a man has rounded feet, while a woman’s feet are flat… probably worn down from the weight of her motorcycle accessory hips. And speaking of androgynous signage…

If people so casually walked down the street with Donkey Kong sized cigarettes, I’d want it stopped too! But notice the man’s feet… I smell a conspiracy.

I can only imagine that Mickey is tired because he spent all night go go dancing at Pooh’s Honey Pot. How else can you explain the leopard skin boy shorts?

That’s some plasticy silk…

This one is funny for a couple of reasons. The English here is actually fine, but they were obviously getting so many questions about just having a beer, that they had to write it out again in simple English: Just Beer NO! The other interesting thing about this is that the restaurant bills itself as a sort of Southern eatery, and its rustic exterior has old wood hitching posts, a confederate flag (Gasp!!!), long horns, etc… But, I guess people commonly associate Mexico with America, so they had to qualify that as well. Again, there’s truth in advertising.

I know… I know! But still, House of Pain! That’s hilarious!

And that’ll just about do it. I have some others, but they really aren’t that funny… and besides, we’re in Osaka now, and I’m just itchin’ to get off the ship and enjoy an overnight!

Keep on Livin’ The Dream,

Michael Lamendola

(Enjoying some birthday cake!)

Kon’nichiwa Asuka II Part Fourteen – Fondling Marsupials

2011-03-10T16:57:00.001-08:00

***3/12/2011***

Yes, I am alive and safe. We had left Yokohama at 2PM, and were in open water when the earthquake hit. I was forward on deck 6, rehearsing in the theatre, when it happened. The whole ship shook like crazy, and none of us really knew what was going on. Had an engine popped? No, this isn't the Dream... Then we started getting the news... whoa. Fortunately, we were south enough of the epicenter to be affected by the tsunami that followed. As I write this, we are a couple hours away from Kobe, where I expect it'll be business as usual... now on to the blog...

At the moment the Asuka II is surrounded by mostly water, as little mountainous islands pass by in the distance at eighteen knots. We’re almost two sea days into our six day journey to Guam, after which we’ll have another three sea days to endure before finally getting back to Japan. Yeah, sea days… lots of ‘em make up this cruise. How many? Well, let’s break down Asuka II’s Oceania Itinerary by ports of call:

YOKOHAMA – 1/31/2011 (Embarkation)
KOBE – 2/1/2011 (Embarkation)
SAIPAN – 2/5/2011
CAIRNS, AUSTRALIA – 2/11 & 2/12/2011 (Overnight)
SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA – 2/15 & 2/16/2011 (Overnight)
HOBART, TASMANIA – 2/18/2011
~~CHRIST CHURCH, NEW ZEALAND – 2/23/2011~~ (Cancelled)
AUCKLAND, NEW ZEALAND – 2/24** & 2/25/2011 (Overnight)
NOUMEA, NEW CALDONIA – 2/28/2011
GUAM – 3/7/2011
YOKOHAMA – 3/11/2011 (Disembarkation)
KOBE – 3/12/2011 (Disembarkation)

(**2/24 - we arrived at Auckland at 9 pm, one day early because of the Christ Church cancellation)

Not including the embarking and disembarking ports, the Oceania cruise lasts 37 days. Of those 37 days, my feet touched dry land a total of 10 unique days, leaving 27 days at sea. Or, to put it another way, one day shy of the equivalent of February is spent at sea. Wow… of course, I am not complaining (much). In the grand scheme of things, I could be doing nothing while not earning a paycheck, but as it stands, I am somehow making a living watching the water chug by.

So, what do all those days at sea look like? Pretty much like what you would expect…

It can be quite majestic at times, to look out at an endless ocean, and understand that stretching beyond my field of vision are a thousand more miles of the same. Other times, however, it can feel a pinch monotonous. Anyway, during all these sea days I’ve done a ton of reading, taking advantage of my Ipod’s ability to read books through Amazon’s Kindle App (which you can also use to read my swanky new novel, DIRTY WORK). I’ve also been able to devote even more time to killing myself in the gym, as well as working my way through the complete series of Mystery Science Theatre 3000.

Still, there are other things to occupy my time amidst all these sea days, like getting beans thrown at me… really. Called “Setubun,” the Japanese purge themselves of evil spirits by throwing dry beans at grown men wearing grass skirts and devil masks.

Literally… grass skirts and devil masks. So, I make my way among the pax while they throw beans at me and giggle. Once I feel like I’ve absorbed enough punishment, my job is to collapse on the ground and die. And, although not instructed to do so, I felt it was my obligation to repeat the phrase “Ooga Booga.” I mean, it would be rude not too… First person perspective just below:

But hell, who cares about beans?! Make with the kangaroos!

Here I am lounging with a kangaroo in Hobart, Tasmania (that little island off the south-east end of Australia). About half an hour’s bus ride from the dock brought me to what is essentially an Australian petting zoo, and roaming free within the fences are a bunch of kangaroos of all sizes. You can pet them, feed them (call them George if so inclined), and basically interrupt their otherwise peaceful day by constantly demanding their attention to shove dry dog food into their mouth and fondle their chest. Oh well, that’s the food chain for ya. Here’s another photo:

Really, most of these guys either tried to get away from the constant attention, or just resigned themselves to being overfed and groped. But, holy cow, I can touch me a kangaroo! Wait a second… I can touch me a koala bear too?

American zoos would lead you to believe that touching a koala bear is not only illegal, but a single atom of human oil would devastate the eight koalas left in the Northern Hemisphere; the koala laws of Australia are a little more slack. So, yeah, I touched me a koala bear… and it was awesome.

One animal I did not touch was the Tasmanian Devil.

Let me be frank: these things may look cute, but they sound like mean little bastards. Honestly, Mel Blanc was not that far off. Here are some fun facts about Tasmanian Devil.

The back teeth create a ton of pressure per square inch (that’s 5 times more than a pit bull)
They can eat 40% of their body weight in one sitting (typically 4.5 pounds)
They are scavengers, and can smell a tasty carcass from over a mile away
Supposedly, there have been no reports of a human being attacked

Still, if I was in the outback and I heard one of these suckers, I’d hide in a kangaroo’s pouch…

The name certainly fits the animal.

One week before Hobart, I was in another little town called Cairns. I believe Cairns made the news getting struck by a big damn typhoon just days before we got there, but everything seemed to be okay once we arrived. Once there, I took a trip into the rain forest and got to see a great big waterfall.

After taking in the grandeur of mother nature, it was back to reality…

Imagine the look in your loved one’s eyes when you come back from the land down under with a kangaroo paw flipping the bird or a bottle opener made from its balls. These gifts not only inspire love, but are made with a pinch of it as well.

But, back on board the globe-trotting Asuka II, there’s no time to use animal testicles to open a bottle of Sapporo… no sir! We’ve got shows to do! Now, my long time readers will recall that I once did the math regarding a typical work week’s hours on board the Norwegian Dream. With two performances of three shows, including a rehearsal for each, as well as a brief welcome aboard show, I typically clocked in about 14 hours per week. Let’s see how that compares to the Asuka II’s Oceania Cruise:

Including the embark and disembark ports (There are two on each end), the cruise lasts 41 days. The Production cast has six shows under its belt, two of which are shorter than your typical 45 minute show (which the other four are). Since it had been awhile since we’d performed any of these shows, we also rehearsed them once before the actual performance… let’s say each rehearsal clocked in at 90 minutes. Finally, we perform each show twice on the performance night. Okay, time to bust out your Texas Instruments TI80 Graphing Calculator:

6 rehearsals * 90 minutes = 540 minutes
(4 shows @ 45 minutes) * 2 performances each = 360 minutes
(1 show @ 30 minutes) * 2 performances = 60 minutes
(1 show @ 17 minutes) * 2 performances = 34 minutes
GRAND TOTAL = 994 MINUTES, OR 16.5 HOURS… IN 41 DAYS

Keep in mind I am not counting participating in organized passenger activities such as Setubun, talent shows, or the equator crossing, as these events required very little preparation on my part. And while I do count singing in sequins as work, getting pie thrown in my face is strictly pro bono. Yeah, pie…

You see, we had another deck party, this time celebrating Asuka II’s passage from the Northern to the Southern Hemisphere (where, as we learned, animal groping laws are far more lenient). In order to celebrate, we put war paint on our faces and grass skirts on our bodies. While mingling with the pax, I noticed a bunch of cream pies lining the pool. I didn’t think anything of it until I came face to face with one, then another… now that I am able to compare, I much prefer beans. So, there I stood, covered in meringue, getting picture after picture taken with the grinning passengers (because, let’s face it, they get to say that they threw pie on their vacation). Oh, and the sun burn has nothing to do with the pies. Funny thing, it didn’t dawn on me that lying out for a quick 30 minutes, while crossing the equator, would leave behind nothing but scorched earth. MFA in Musical Theatre, friends…

But, before the deck party, we had a little private concert of our own:

And speaking of concerts, the Asuka II also made land in Sydney, Australia. While we were there, the production cast had the esteemed honor of performing alongside a full symphony orchestra at the historical Sydney Town Hall. The passengers were dressed to the kyuus, and much of the staff was also in attendance for this special event. So, inside a hundred and twenty year old concert hall, while a backdrop of stars glistened in the night sky, I utilized every ounce of training and stage experience for this, my Australian debut:

To this day I get a little misty… sometimes I don’t know how I do it.

But land is so stagnant and un-liquid-like… make with more sea days!!!

Here we are passing through the Fjords of New Zealand. It was raining pretty much the whole time we were there, but it was a pleasant break from the endless sea we were used to. As we passed through, the captain would come on the intercom and tell us all about the scenery. I would tell you everything I heard, but since it was all in Japanese, all I can say is “banana banana banana,” which is exactly how you say it in Japanese. Apple, on the other hand, is “Ringo.” Yeah, like the Beatle.

And speaking of New Zealand, one day before we were to arrive in a little place called Christ Church the city was rocked by an earthquake (six point something). I believe it was late last year when the city had another earthquake topping seven on the Richter Scale. Had we been there a day early, I can guarantee you many passengers, and probably myself, would have been inside the church or a museum when it hit… yikes. Anyway, deciding it would be best to skip the port, we set a course for Auckland, arriving half a day early.

Having an extra night on our hands, we did the usual “hanging out and not returning to the ship until we absolutely had to” routine. The next day, however, I hiked up a volcano.

Not much to say about it… Called Rangitoto island, geologists believe it erupted 600 years ago, and they are pretty sure it’s now dormant. As for me, I took a ferry to get there, hiked to the top, looked at the view, then hiked down.

The rest of the day was spent exploring the city. I took in the view from the top of the sky needle, visited a casino… oh, I did see one thing worth mentioning.

At first blush, you may not see anything wrong with this picture, but look a little closer. See that boy with one Friendship Gem? Now look at the floozie to his left… I see at least SEVEN Friendship Gems. Hey kid, she ain’t worth it… obviously she’s got “friends” all over town… that hussie.

Oh, and then there were more sea days… but guess what? I met me a real live sumo wrestler!

Sumo wrestlers in Japan aren’t like your athletes in The States. While people like Kobe Bryant are pretty much known for their athletic skills (okay, that was a terrible example), sumo wrestlers are usually trained in singing, poetry, dance… not only are they athletes, but also artists. Many of them go on to have a second career once they hang up their Sumo pants, like my friend Daishi here. He was onboard as a singing guest entertainer, and was a really cool guy to hang out with too. But just how much does a sumo wrestler weigh? Welp, his retired weight is 321 pounds… his fighting weight, on the other hand, was 383 pounds… It’s a relief to know a guy that big likes you. So, what do you do when you’re hanging out with sumo wrestlers?

Sing Karaoke! What I’m holding in my hand is the Karaoke songbook… looks more like a phone book, don’t it? At first I couldn’t believe there are actually that many songs to sing. Then I realize the songs are listed in Japanese, Chinese, English, and Tagalong. Still, on more than one occasion I found myself looking for a plumber, vinyl siding repairman, and a good DUI attorney.

Finally, after some more sea days, I visited Numea, a city on the island of New Caledonia. Again, not much to say… since I went to the beach and chilled out.

The only thing worth mentioning here is that if you listen real close, you’ll hear French. New Caledonia was a French settlement back in the day, and it’ll catch you off guard when you’re lying on the beach and you hear someone who sounds exactly like Maurice Chevalier jingle a pocket full of Francs as they pass by.

It’s late in the evening now as I finish up this blog. Tonight we have a mooring deck party to celebrate Asuka’s 5th birthday (or 20th, if you count the fact that she was originally christened as the Crystal Symphony back in 1991). We still have four more days to go before hitting Guam, then three more to get back to the land of seaweed and sake. Speaking of food, I’ll soon have a blog dedicated to nothing but, so stay tuned.

Keep on Livin’ The Dream,

Michael Lamendola

(Taking in the Sydney Opera House)

Oh, and PS: “The Groping Marsupials” is my new band.

Kon’nichiwa Asuka II Part Thirteen - A Fifty Mile Radius

2011-01-29T19:44:00.001-08:00

At the moment the Asuka II is somewhere just outside of Yokohama, getting her feet wet for the first time in almost three weeks. You see, from January 11th until the 27th, we called Mitsubishi Dry Dock home, and the Asuka II was literally a fish out of water.

So, during this time what is usually a luxury cruiser is taken down to her studs for an overhaul. Inside, everything floor to ceiling is covered in plastic, and outside several huge cranes are constantly loading and off loading tools and equipment. Life on board also changes quite a bit during this period. For one, since there are no passengers to speak of, there’s obviously no reason to perform any of the shows. Other by-products of the complete lack of pax are the disappearance of heat and ventilation, constant drilling that seems to occur right above my cabin, and a water supply that typically operates from the early evening to the early morning. It’s like camping in a cold metal box!

But hey, I had my choice… I could either fly home (and back) on my own nickel and enjoy a few weeks off back in The States, or I could stay on board the ship, have no responsibilities, the leeway to come and go (mostly) as I please, and oh… continue to draw one hundred percent of my salary. Monty, I’ll take door number two.

Still, conditions and terms do apply. While I was able to spend consecutive days off the ship, I had to stick within a fifty mile radius. The only reason for this is because, for some reason (and I literally have never been explained why), my Japanese landing pass only allows me to travel those precious 50 miles away from the vessel. Of course, I could travel to Japan on my own, and have access to the whole country, not just 50 miles from the airport, but since I work on the ship, I suppose there’s a greater chance of me trying to steal into their country? I don’t know… I quit questioning the thought process of my esteemed Japanese officers some time ago. Anyway, here’s what a fifty mile circle looks like:

So, what the hell did yours truly do with all that free time? Quite a bit actually. First order of business was to visit Tokyo. My buddy Steve currently works at Tokyo Disney, singing at the Diamond Horseshoe Review. January is a slow month for him as well, so we had ample time to explore Tokyo and all its neighborhoods. First stop: Tokyo Tower.

Not the tallest tower in Tokyo, but still a mind numbing 332.5 meters (1,091 feet) above the earth, with two observatories, the highest at 250 meters (820 feet). The view from the top is what you would expect, but still, it would be rude of me not to share at least one shot…

I think that sliver of a tower in the distance is taller, but I never got the chance to go up it. So yeah, the tower was what you would normally expect. It’s when you get back down that things surprise you… or maybe not. If you’ll recall from my blog about Shanghai, you’ll remember that the Orient Pearl tower had an arcade and an indoor roller coaster. So what does the orange and white, Eiffel tower inspired Japanese structure have that China don’t?

One ugly collection of wax statues. Not affiliated with Madame Tussauds, these statues look like play-dough sponsored the whole thing. Shown above is the rag tag bunch of Ghandi, Mother Teresa, Lady Diana (complete with welding mask and apron that protects her junk), and Anne Frank. Draw the parallels if you like, but if you were to play the “one of these things is not like the other” game then Anne is the odd one out. But the hands down winner for the ugliest statue has to go to Julia Roberts.

Oh… pretty woman… the funny thing I just noticed is that she looks more like a hooker here than in the movie. Honorable mention goes to Jodie Foster and Albert Einstein.

But if your idea of fun at an extremely tall tower involves things that go bump in the night, then Tokyo Tower’s got you covered there too! Sort of a dimly lit walk through chamber of horrors (with checkered carpet), one gets to experience what I can only imagine is Japanese folklore come to life via statues that look less like wax and more like paper-mâché. Below is my favorite.

I could go on and on about the kid's games, 3D movies made with an Amiga 500, and the seemingly endless collection of classic rock paraphernalia (really), but there are more exciting things to discuss, like…

Sitting butt naked in a pool of naturally heated water surrounded by snow! A long time ago I told y’all about the Grand Spa, our onsen on the Asuka II. That’s an onsen too, but not the traditional outdoor kind. While the major difference here is, of course, one is inside, and one is definitely not, everything else remains the same: wash before you get in, and no bathing suits please.

So, I experienced two of these suckers… one that could resemble something like a public park, and another a part of a hotel resort. Let’s start with the public onsen. To get there you walk down this snowy path (there’s snow on the ground because it’s –8 Celsius) to the onsen, which is in a valley at the base of a dam. About a hundred feet away from the hot water pools is an open air shack, with his and hers changing areas, which are barely partitioned by a dividing wall and are more or less visible from almost everywhere else. Still, you’re about to get in a pool naked with a bunch of other people, so modesty is not something you bring along with you. Once you’ve changed into your birthday suit, you wrap yourself in a towel (that you hopefully did bring with you) and briskly walk the stone path to the hot water (bitching is optional, but totally necessary at this point).

Then you sit your frozen ass into the warm water… ahh… The water is warm enough to keep you comfortable, but not hot enough to necessitate the in and out game. The pool itself is natural, though part of its structure might be “man assisted,” but the heat is definitely all mother nature, as little bubbles were constantly floating up through the cracks of the rocky floor. My onsen mates were mostly men, but also a few women.

That’s the view from the main pool. The pagoda covers a smaller section of the pool, and that orange glow in the upper left is the changing area mentioned earlier. And the white stuff? Snow… that’s negative eight Celsius.

So, you soak all you want, but eventually you have to drag your now very warm, very comfortable, and very not in the mood to get out, ass back to the changing area to dry off and put on the clothes that are now probably way closer to the freezing temperature than when you got here an hour ago. So, after some self coaching I hold my breath, grab my towel, and quickly trot (but not too quick… water and rock outside can give way to one cold and bruised ass) back to the changing area (this time, the transitional bitching is mandatory). At this point I am now standing completely wet and naked, steam emanating from every inch of me as I quickly dry off and put my clothes back on. Then I realize something… I’m not as cold as my mind thinks I am. I slow down a minute and realize I only assumed I’m cold, while in reality I’m not.

Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t planning on doing some naked snow angels, but I was hot from the inside out, and it would be several minutes before I would really feel the effects of the freezing air around me. It was at this moment that two other guys had gotten out and were changing next to me. One of them looks at me and says “muscles!” Not being used to naked onsen changing room banter, I replied “huh?” The Japanese dude then squeezes my bicep. “Muscles! Su goi!” he says, in a totally heterosexual way. Then I discover hot water and cold air will erase all evidence of body fat. Multiply that with an eight month diet of rice and miso soup…

Right after this picture was taken, I realized my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me… yeah, it was actually cold outside. A little video, while dark, fills in the gaps:

So, that was a public onsen… what does a pay to use onsen look like?

This puppy was attached to a hotel in the mountains. Yes, just as cold as the previous, but higher altitude wise, and with a bunch more snow on the ground. Still, the facilities were quite different. This time towels are provided, along with a nifty robe and sandals. Also complimentary are a pair of those funny Japanese socks with a separate compartment for the big toe. And even though my shoe size is considered average in the states, I had quite a bit of trouble fitting my big toe into the small woven space of the sock… that novelty wore off quick.

So, once you get your robe and sandals on, you trot outside, swap your inside sandals for your outside sandals (it’s how the Japanese roll), and walk a short distance to a snow covered hut on an elevated train track.

Here’s the hut coming up to get me to take me back down to the hotel…

Ride the hut up to the top, and pick from three areas: men’s, women’s, and mixed. Finally, you shuck off your robe and sandals and hop into the onsen.

This one, while still naturally heated, is definitely man made, but only in the sense that someone moved around a bunch of rocks to keep the water in, and built a rustic wooden structure to keep the falling snow from harshing your mellow. This time, the hot water is delivered via a hollowed out log, and the water that pours out is hot. Even though the temperature outside is below freezing, after about ten minutes I needed to stand up to cool off. After making a few snowballs, it was time to soak mine back into the water for another ten minutes. And so it went for my two trips up the mountain at night, and once the following morning. Video proof just below:

The hotel itself was nice as well, but also traditional. For example, this is what my room looked like when I showed up, courtesy of Mr. Blurry Cam:

On the floor is woven bamboo… the kind you take your shoes off to walk on (and really, I’ve never met the kind that is shoe friendly). There were modern amenities too, like a TV that required yen to turn on, and past the screen was a sitting area with large windows looking out onto the mountains. After returning from dinner, the table and “chairs” were replaced by my bed…

The bed itself wasn’t all that bad, but the pillows were strangely filled with the kind of stuff you find in bean bags. It felt like thousands of hard plastic pellets in that pillow case. I suppose that’s not so bad if you sleep on your back, but if you’re a stomach sleeper like me, you’ll be a little uncomfortable. Still, soaking in hot water while surrounded by freezing air does a lot to take it out of you, so those beans could have been plastic or refried... I was out either way.

After my morning soak, it was time for breakfast. Up to now I have enjoyed almost everything I’ve ever eaten in Japan (the bug was in South Korea), but the traditional Japanese mountain breakfast I tried to eat on this particular morning almost did me in.

Let’s go from the upper left hand corner and work our way clockwise… in the little hot pot, simmering in miso soup, are a bunch of mushrooms, shallots, and other root vegetables. To their right is some brown stuff that I think was pulled from the ground as well, two green beans, a tomato slice, and some minced cabbage. Next to that is a salad with two pieces of ham. In the center is a fish, which you eat whole, with two pieces of soy. Down at the lower right is a pickled plum next to some other vegetable mixes. Down stage center is an onion and sweet bean (atsuki) salad. In the green bowl are more mountain mushrooms…. and finally, and egg! Su goi! Oh wait, I’m supposed to crack it, beat it, and mix it into the vegetables and miso soup to make some sort of scramble… oh boy. In the end I ate most the fish, and tried everything else. The ham slices were decadent.

So, after my high altitude, warm water cleansing, I decided to visit Mt. Fuji so I can piss all over myself.

This is Eejanaika, one of the roller coasters at Fuji Q, a roller coaster park outside Tokyo. And, true to its title, it sits practically at the base of its namesake. You can breathe in the grandeur of one of Japan’s most recognizable landmarks, but it’s difficult to see it when your blacking out from a mix of greased lightning and greasier bowels. I am not kidding, the Japanese DO NOT mess around with their roller coasters. Wikipedia does it best at describing this beast:

Eejanaika, designed by S&S Arrow, is a "4th Dimension" coaster, a design in which the seats can rotate forward or backward 360 degrees in a controlled spin. This is achieved by having four rails on the track: two of these are running rails while the other two are for spin control. The two rails that control the spin of the seats move up and down relative to the track and spin the seats using a rack and pinion gear mechanism.

Even on the third ride, this thing scared the bejeebes out of me, and once finished gave me the same breathless feeling after getting out of the onsen, except I’m not wearing my pee when I get out of the onsen (not that I do that… much).

The other big coaster I rode shoots you, in a straight line, to 107 MPH in 1.8 seconds. Basically, you come to Fuji Q, you bring a fresh change or two. Still, when I think back to Fuji Q, it isn’t the coasters I’ll remember…

Seriously, I wear a ten and a half, and if anyone gets these for me, I will learn how to tap dance.

Finally, I went to Tokyo Disney. If you’ve been to Disney Land or World in the States, then you’ve pretty much been to Tokyo Disney (although they also have Tokyo Disney Sea, which I hear is its own beast, with a few recognizable rides like Tower of Terror).

The Enchanted Castle at Tokyo Disneyland.

Since I was there during the off season, some rides were closed for maintenance (like Big Thunder Mountain… LAME!), but I did ride childhood favorites such as Space Mountain, Splash Mountain, and the Haunted Mansion. Michael Jackson’s Captain EO has also made its triumphant return from 1987, with all that 1987 3D goodness. If you can find it online, you should watch it… the King of Pop was about as good at acting as the King of Rock and Roll. My favorite picture at the park, however, doesn’t have anything to do with Mickey or Donald…

Ever hear a rumor that the Japanese can, and do, sleep anywhere? They do, and not just on subways and during my shows. This guy was sitting there, sleeping in that exact position, for a few good minutes before my accomplice could get out of the bathroom to hold the camera so I could play a little Simon Says.

Oh, and speaking of subways…

Look, I‘m no voyeur, but I just couldn’t help myself. Japanese girls of all ages love to look cute (Kuaii!), and do so by wearing shorty shorts or skirts with knee high socks or dark hose, even in the middle of winter. Here, however, cute went and threw up Chantilly lace and doll house wall paper all over these two. At first, I thought the girl on the left’s teddy bears were sewn on to the jacket, but nope, she’s just holding them there. Supposedly these two bears are the newest characters at Tokyo Disney, and since this picture was taken I’ve seen several other girls clutching bears just like this. Even though I still suck at putting an age to the Japanese, especially the women, I put these two between 18 and 20… that’s ONE DIGIT more than a normal person would possess to wear something like this… wow.

But, every vacation has to come to an end. As I finish this installment, I rest easy as the heat gently wafts from my vent to fill my room, drying me off after a shower I took sometime around 10:30 AM. We’re sitting back at Osanbashi pier in Yokohama, waiting for the passengers to arrive. Then we’ll embark on a five week cruise to Australia. Yep, I’m taking a break from Sake and Shimizu for some Sun and Sydney. But don’t get too jealous… here’s the reality: 10 out of 38 days will actually see me stepping foot on dry land. That leaves 28 glorious days at sea to ponder life’s great mysteries, like why the wealthy Japanese don’t just fly to Australia.

Keep on Livin’ The Dream,

Michael Lamendola

(Enjoying an onsen and the fresh Japanese mountain air)

Kon’nichiwa Asuka II Part Twelve - Your Red Nose is Necessary!

2011-01-03T22:42:00.001-08:00

At the moment the Asuka II is getting beat all to hell by strong winds and massive swells as she fights her way back to Japan from a little place called Saipan… and we are barely half way there. You see, in order to get to Saipan, and Guam the day before, one must travel for three solid days at sea. It’s rocky, I imagine, because the cold Japanese weather is duking it out with the warmer weather of the South Pacific. So, just how warm was it in Guam and Saipan? Let me just get this out of the way now…

High of 85 in Guam, hotter in Saipan… life’s a bitch sometimes, ain’t it? And actually, if you are feeling a little glum because your American Christmas was cold and wet, then you only have yourself to blame, because I was in America. Guam and Saipan are tiny American territories left over from WWII. After many months in Japan, it was kind of a surreal experience to be somewhere where I could speak English, spend American dollars, and see cars drive on the right side of the road on their way to Wendy’s, Chili’s, Home Depot, and Ross…

I mean, look at that… I am in a Ross, where one can dress for less, but if you didn’t know, you’d just expect this picture to be taken anywhere… but look a little closer. All the people in the store, or outside driving their cars and sharing the sidewalk were all Filipinos, Guamese, or Saipanese (with the exception of the American men and women who are stationed there).

So, I was in Guam on December 30th, and Saipan the following day. All I really did both days was go to the beach and thaw out. That first beach picture up there was in Saipan, which was a little more rough around the edges than Guam… kind of reminded me of some of the Mexican beaches I’ve seen in the Yucatan. The water, no matter how far out you walked, never got deeper than your waist… and it was comfortable. Not bath water… but close.

And this tickled me… there were a line of Christmas trees in a small outdoor shopping area, and they were decorated with homemade baubles.

You see? Even in a place like Saipan, you can have a white trash Christmas!

Guam’s beaches felt a little more resort like, with nicer hotels dotting the coast.

Both places are actually little getaways for the Japanese. Knowing which side their bread is buttered, many of the shops catering to tourists, and all the maps leading to them, were in Japanese. There really isn’t much more to say about these places… however, I did find a rather large souvenir store in Saipan, and amidst all the tropical stuff one could buy with “Saipan” stamped all over it, I found this:

Finally, I also found one business worth mentioning. If you ever find yourself in Guam and looking for legal representation with a little sizzle, then take your case over to:

T&A Associates… yeah, I’m (still) easily amused.

But hey, I just got finished spending late December in Japan! What the hell was that like? Well, it was a little of everything, really.

Essentially the Japanese think of Christmas only as a celebration. They like the decorations and music, and the stores and businesses participate with Christmas themed sales and merchandise, like the following:

I like the fact that not only is Santa concerned about the environment, but that he also has an official ranking with the military.

I’m still not sure if the red nose is for Rudolph, or for Uncle Chuck, who always seems to overdo the Christmas Schlitz… either way, it is necessary. However, in Japan Christmas is not something that starts in October, nor do they make a huge deal about buying and exchanging presents. Of course, they really don’t get into the whole birth of Jesus thing, either. Actually, the interesting thing is that in Japan, Christmas is about throwing a party with friends, and New Year’s Eve is about tradition and family, but more about that in a bit.

So, what did I do over Christmas? A little of this, and a little of that. The cast had a secret Santa game going on, with small presents given out on the days leading to Christmas Day, where the big presents were exchanged. The crew was given a nice Christmas Dinner, which was a mix of Japanese and Traditional Christmas type cuisine. In order to hedge our bets, the cast also chipped in and thus supplied ourselves with our own little Christmas dinner.

The Christmas Cruise itself was noting special. We left Yokohama on the 24th, spent the 25th at sea, then returned to Yokohama on the 26th. And this time, our path did very much resemble a Family Circus cartoon. Imagine, if you will, that the Asuka II is Billy, and his mother asked us to go to the store to get some mint jelly for Christmas Dinner… what path did Billy take?

Looks like Billy needs to up his Ritalin.

So, with Christmas Day at sea, what did I do? All of the following:

Yeah, it was a good day… but different. Having been on Asuka for this long has changed my eating habits, first of all, so I didn’t have that lethargic, over done feeling… even though I had two dinners. Still, when it comes to Christmas dessert, it would be rude of me to not overdo it, especially when I am challenged by The Man to not do so.

Other differences were the lack of college football to watch, and the lack of land outside my window. But hey, it’s all what you make of it, and it was certainly a Christmas I’ll always remember… oh, and the Shrieking Chicken? Awesome.

Of course, there was also a special Christmas show that we performed for the majority of December. Some songs I sang you would know, like “Winter Wonderland” and “White Christmas.” Others you may not, like “She” and “Christmas Eve.” I am unable to post any video, but I also sang Silent Night in Japanese… everything else was in English. The song “Christmas Eve” seems to be a big hit in Japan, as I heard it played many times in stores and restaurants. Oh, and I achieved a personal milestone…

That’s right! Ho ho ho y’all! I came through the back of the house singing a rock n’ roll-ish version of “Santa Clause is Coming to Town.” It was kind of funny, since most of the adults couldn’t bear me passing by without waving and touching my hand… the kids, on the other hand, could give a damn. One time, however, I found myself singing next to a man who might have had a little too much eggnog, and was fast asleep. So, as I was singing, I poked him on the shoulder. He woke up, looked at me, and jumped, seeing the biggest bearded gijing ever! Good times.

So, before I get to New Year’s, let me show you some more of the Japanese country side. We had a few days in Yokohama, so I ventured out a couple of times for a little sightseeing. One day I found myself in Kamakura, a little town about a half an hour’s train ride away. The two things everyone comes here to see are the Hasedera and Kotokuin Temples, the latter being home to Daibutsu (aka The Great Buddha). Normally I wouldn’t waste your time with slideshows, but take a moment and see what I saw:

As far as Daibutsu goes, supposedly he’s not the biggest Buddha in Japan, but he’s close. He was built over 700 years ago with a temple around him… that burned down 500 years ago, and he’s been hanging outside ever since. And, true to what has been posted online, walking inside him is really no big deal, but for 20 yen you can experience it for yourself! As far as Hasedera is concerned, it was the nicest temple complex I had ever seen. It sits on a hillside, and the further up you climb, the more stuff you see, like statues, caves, and shrines.

Something you can do at many of these temples is leave a prayer for someone, which can be done in many different ways, such as lighting a candle or leaving a note. Passing by the large golden Buddha in Hasedera, I came across one note worth sharing:

It’s true… we all should have a Buddha guard of our own.

Oh, the Asuka Christmas video had a brief glimpse of Mt. Fuji. Not so long ago, I was in the port of Shimizu, which is also known as the “Gateway to Mt. Fuji.” To see a brochure quality shot of the big guy, check this out:

Okay, on to New Year’s Eve, which was very traditional, very Japanese, and the whole experience very unique. Overall the word “symbology” comes to mind… for example:

There was a bunch of these suckers on display all over the ship. The colors red and white, when together, mean (I think) luck and prosperity… no coincidence that these colors also comprise the Japanese flag. In the center you see a shrimp, thought of here as the old man. Above him is an orange, which has two Japanese words associated to it, much like the color and the fruit. One word, pronounced “die-die,” is used here to mean the connecting of generations… old to young, much like the American New Year’s symbols of the old man and the baby. But it doesn’t end there.

This is soba, which is a buckwheat noodle, in miso soup (naturally). This is what the Japanese eat on New Year’s Day. Not unlike the Southern tradition of black eyed peas (which I was unable to find), eating soba on New Year’s Day also symbolizes the connection of generations… but there’s a catch here. You see, if a strand of soba equals many generations from beginning to end, it would be in bad form to chew it up. So, you slurp it into your mouth (which is not considered bad manners here) and swallow everything whole. It felt strange at first, but my mind was at ease on this occasion, since I was invited to share this Japanese meal with an ear, nose, and throat doctor… no kidding.

As far as the countdown itself, it was actually a pretty big party, especially when compared to the other, mostly low key, soirees I’ve seen thrown around here.

So we literally rang in the New Year, as you saw. Continuing with the Temple theme, the next day the atrium lobby was converted to an Asuka temple, complete with the red entry way, guard dog, and box with which to toss your yen.

Finally, we had yet another nice spread for lunch and dinner to celebrate New Year’s Day. So, imagine my surprise when I saunter down to the crew mess, at noon, and discover this:

That, friends, is a big barrel of New Year’s sake. The depth of the barrel only goes a third of the way down, but trust me, a stiff sip of sake during lunch the day after a night full of drinking is not exactly what I needed. I will say that yes, it was smooth… but for a culture that is not known for its drinking prowess, they sure know how to drink.

But then I got to thinking… I’ve seen barrels like this before. I asked one of the officers where this sake came from, and he said Kobe. Then I asked him if some temples make this stuff, you know, to make ends meet. He said no… but I went and looked in my stack of pictures and found proof that yeah, they do:

This was taken in a temple complex near Nagoya. At the time I thought maybe they are storing food for the long winter… nuh uh… they’re just waiting for a big damn party! And this isn’t the only picture I have… other temples seem to do the same thing.

Finally, it’s not often I am star struck, but while in Nagoya I saw a line of people waiting to get their picture taken with some important looking man. Not wanting to be left out, I waited in line and had my photo snapped with him too.

After some digging back on the ship, I found out that I had met the Mayor of Nagoya… sweet.

And that’ll just about do it for me. It’s night outside as the Asuka II continues to shake, rattle, and roll in the dark and tumultuous Pacific as we are nearly two days in to our three day trip back to Yokohama. Once we arrive, it’ll be a little more than a week before we go into our near three week dry-dock, or to put it another way, nearly three weeks paid vacation!

Keep on Livin’ The Dream,

Michael Lamendola

(Enjoying a New Year’s Eve martini)

Kon’nichiwa Asuka II Part Eleven - Getting Shanghaied in Shanghai

2010-12-11T21:41:00.001-08:00

At the moment the Asuka II is sitting quietly, somewhere in the Southern part of Japan. I can tell you for certain that we are somewhere in the Southern part of Japan, because that’s what my TV says. I know we are sitting not only because we aren’t moving, but because I can hear the giant chain links being released as they follow the anchor into the murky water below.

Essentially, during the Christmas season, the Asuka II does a lot of one and two day cruises, often times to nowhere. Much like an evening harbor excursion, people come on board for dinner and a show, then spend the night to wake up in the city we left the night before. On the other hand, they also pay north of 600 bucks per person (and it goes up from there) for the experience… I know this for a fact, and that ticket price is only for ONE NIGHT. For my hard earned clams, I think I’d rather eat some average Christmas themed food on a forty year old tugboat turned dining room, soaking in the city lights of Des Moines, and sleeping in my own bed… then I could use the money I saved on a one week Mexican cruise… but that’s just me.

Still, it is funny to see where we go on a cruise to nowhere, so again I turn to my television set. One of the channels we can access displays a map of Japan, with a blue line showing where we’ve been this cruise, and a dot at the end showing where we are.

Where the line starts on the map is where Kobe is, and where we’ll be tomorrow to drop our pax off. Not quite Family Circus, but it’s close. In case you’re nautically curious, from left to right, the numbers at the bottom represent our latitude and longitude coordinates, knots, and directional heading. It must take a moment for the screen to refresh, because even though we are definitely stopped, the knots still show we are moving.

So, maps on television… blah blah blah… What else has been going on? Welp, as usual I look at the pictures I’ve taken since we last spoke and see if there’s anything worth talking about. So, let me do that… oh boy… I don’t want to sound like an ungrateful Betty, or any kind of Betty for that matter… maybe Betty Crocker… cake sounds good right now… maybe some of that red velvet cake… yeah, with two big scoops of vanilla ice cream… or there’s an apple betty… that would be good with ice cream too… wait, what? Oh right… so, basically over the past month I’ve been mostly to Kobe and Yokohama. For me, it’s like being in my home town… I just do normal things, and unfortunately those things are mundane enough that they rarely require pictures. Still, let me get my long spoon and see what I can scrape outta the barrel.

Okay, well, there was this one time when they had a fan appreciation day at the Yokohama Baseball Stadium, home of the fightin’ Yokohama Bay Stars.

And then there was the replica of the statue of liberty standing above an American car dealership in a town called Kagoshima…

There you could buy a used PT Cruiser, a Chevy Van, or a Lincoln Towncar!

Here’s a Japanese Hearse… I find it a little ironic that in spite of all the ornate Japanese stuff the stiff rides in, it’s still a Cadillac…

Let’s see, what else… oh, Kagoshima also has a volcano!

If the hottest thing you see in this picture is a bunch of Japanese cheerleaders, then I hope you’re able to outrun airborne chunks of molten lava. The volcano spouted smoke every forty minutes or so. Thankfully for the residents of Kagoshima, the bay separates the volcanic island from the mainland. All right… anything else?

Saw a lady at a sushi restaurant who likes to coordinate her hair with her clothes…

I’ve been to a few Japanese arcades, and from what I’ve seen they are either multi storied affairs with everything from games to slot machines, to places that are full of nothing but photo booths and skill cranes. While in an arcade similar to the latter, I came upon something interesting.

Still, if you’re embarrassed that you won a Tamagotchi (we still play with those?), maybe you should pick another crane… you know, the one that contains pink hello kitties or anime porn.

And I guess that’s it… for Japan. I suppose the biggest thing I’ve done in the past thirty days is visit Shanghai. Now, before I begin, let me say that things don’t always go according to plan, and that happens a couple of times in my retelling of my Chinese experience. I might even learn something along the way… you may too. Okay, let’s get to it.

Here is the view from the bow at 5:45 PM, December first. We’re actually close to China, but waiting for our turn to enter the channel that takes us to Shanghai. Originally we were scheduled to arrive at the stroke of midnight on December 2nd, putting us port side at 7 AM, scheduled to stay until 5 PM on the 3rd. But we sat, along with dozens of other ships that surrounded us, for a long time. Day turned into night and we were hours late entering the channel… why? Apparently the fog was so thick that the channel was closed to traffic.

There was some talk amongst the crew that we were going to turn around, because the weather forecast said there was no chance of the fog dissipating anytime soon. Then, at 9 PM, the engines kicked back on, and the Asuka II did a one-eighty and headed back to Japan, taking us to none other than Sakaiminato… no kidding! Well, there’s only one thing to do in Sakaiminato…

Okay, so we didn’t go to Sakaiminato, but I’ve got a million of these stupid “Having Fun” videos, and I gotta get them on here somehow.

So yes, there was a rumor amongst the crew that the Asuka II was gonna high tail it out of China… but anytime there’s rain or fog or lingering grasshopper farts somebody here will start yakkin’ about drastic changes to the itinerary and mutiny. Yes, sometimes we’re late, but seriously… when the current 10 day cruise is called “Shanghai Cruise,” do you really think we’re gonna just skip the Shanghai portion? No way… besides the ticket sales, I am sure the majority of the pax have tours booked… there’s two big reasons why we won’t skip… sheesh.

Anyway, we spent the night anchored in open water with dozens of other ships, waiting to get in. Believe it or not, this puts us at risk for a pirate attack. So, with all eyes on deck from the bridge, officers standing guard to our aft, and our emergency lights extended, we sit and wait.

The picture sucks, I know, but all those lights are other ships, and this is what I saw all around our ship. Later, I discover just how busy this channel is, but for now all I can think about is the Asuka’s defense system for pirates. You see, I just assumed that we have a gun locker somewhere… nope. We have fire hoses. Yep. Some gun toting, scurvy barnacle bill tries to scale our hull with his cutlass clenched in his mouth, we’ll just knock him down with salty pressurized water. Oh, and the guy that had the aft watch shift told me he had a meeting with the Captain the following morning to discuss the possibility of him getting fired for something. I feel really, really safe…

Fortunately, no pirates attacked, (although there was one frisky fishing boat) and we made it to the next morning, where we sat some more. Finally, at around 2 PM the Asuka II weighed anchor and began her journey into the channel. I have to say, sailing into Shanghai was by far the most interesting sail in I have ever witnessed… video below.

I watch the video, and I still find it hard to tell just how crowded it was. Even in open water, we were in a line of ships heading in, and ships frequently passed us by on either side… and close.

And as you saw in the video, it was even more crowded once we began sailing down the channel. The Captain rode the horn like a New York City cab driver as every ship to our left needed to be on our right, and right to the left, and they had to get there RIGHT NOW!

As night fell we made our way out of the lengthy (and smelly) industrial area and into the downtown area of Shanghai, and the train tracks that separate the two sides of town were a large, red suspension bridge.

Finally, at 8 PM, the Asuka II tied down, only eighteen hours behind schedule. Still, that gave us about eighteen hours of shore leave… in theory. Sometimes, especially when there’s a heightened anticipation amongst the crew, our shore leave seems to always be delayed. So, we wait and wait… passengers have long since disembarked and caught their tour buses. So, I walk around the ship and take some pictures.

That’s the Oriental Pearl, Shanghai’s big damn TV tower… and the tallest tower in Asia. More on that later.

Finally, at 10:30 PM the crew is finally allowed off the ship… and this is where the learning experience occurred. So, the production cast leaves the ship as a group, as we were warned to not go out at night alone. On our way out there was a lady in the lobby who would accept our yen and give us Yuan, the Chinese currency. Instead of going to her, we decided to go to “this lady who is always outside the ship, every year,” as stated by my coworker. Many of you, if you’ve actually gotten this far by reading, are shaking your heads… I know, I know…

So, we go to “the lady” outside the ship, and like year’s past, she’s “outside the ship” with another guy. We each hand them a hundred bucks, and they hand us 600 Yuan, which was right along with the exchange rate, with a slight markup, but not obscene. After the transaction, the ten of us split up into two cabs and journeyed into town. I would say maybe five minutes went by when the ten of us, in two separate cabs, began to realize something was wrong with our Chinese money.

Turns out some of us got counterfeit Chinese money, and the rest of us got Taiwanese money, which, while pink like Chinese money, is in fact Taiwanese money. Me? I was holding 600 Taiwanese smackers, or, roughly ten bucks. Shit.

That’s basically all there is to that little story. Nobody would take my Taiwanese money, and the people who had the counterfeit Chinese Yuan couldn’t unload it either, as everyone in Shanghai was wise, and did a rubbing trick on the bill to tell if it was real. And whenever I tell the story, even as I type it here, I just shake my head. I heard someone say “Let’s give money to a stranger on the street,” and went with it… looks like my MFA is better suited to jerry-rigging cruise ship showers than it is at global economics. Still, at the very least we were all swindled… nay… Shanghaied as a group, so the sting wasn’t as great. It’s an achievement to be sure… not as big as eating Kobe beef in Kobe, or drinking Bordeaux wine in Bordeaux, but friends, I managed to get Shanghaied in Shanghai.

So, with time wasting away quicker than we could throw our money into the trash, we regrouped, got real Yuan, and tried again. That night, and the following day, was spent eating an admittedly awful steak, having a drink, and seeing the sights of Shanghai. People’s exhibit A below:

I’ll fill in a little detail here. The name of the garden is “Yu Garden” (and you can visit it yourself at www.YuGarden.com.cn). All I really know about the place is that it’s old, and was originally built for one guy to enjoy. How old is it? Well, look at the following picture:

The place is so old, people used to sit in rooms and stare at petrified wood statues. THAT’S how old the place is. Thank you, thank you, I’ll be here all week.

Now let’s skip ahead to the Chinese temple. Behind the room with the big statue was a courtyard with three buildings. In each building there was a man playing a different musical instrument. It all felt very traditional… that is, until:

Here is a guy, playing music that is probably a thousand years old, and the dude next to him is tweeting about the blizzard he had at Dairy Queen…

Yeah, I ain’t making that up. And yeah, I had an Oreo Blizzard… come on… Japanese food is one thing, but how many tons of Chow Mein have I choked down in my short life?

I forget why I took this picture… HEY! Try the shrimp cocktail! Don’t forget to tip your wait staff! Can you hear me talkin’? Cause I can hear you leavin’!

Of course, when in China, or any country, you are surrounded by souvenir shops. I didn’t need to take any video of that, but one picture does stand out:

Surrounded by magnets depicting Chinese cities and masks, and directly to the right of a Panda, the most useless symbol of Zoos all over the world, are magnets of Saddam Hussein and Osama Bin Laden. Can you imagine going all the way to China, and bringing your poor bastard of a friend a magnet of Saddam or president Obama? From China?

Looks like I had more to talk about than I originally thought, as I actually left out something funny I saw while looking around the shops. Maybe you’re tired from rickshaw rides and souvenir shopping, and need a little relaxing massage.

Hate to think what a happy ending involves…

But, as many of you know, you can get reasonable facsimiles of bags, shoes, watches and clothes in China. I didn’t have time to go to the market where they sell all this stuff, but I was still approached by many people, all holding the same looking laminated piece of paper with pictures of watches and purses. “You want to buy a watch?” they would all ask me, over and over. Finally, I said to one “sure, show me your watches!” Almost immediately, the man said “follow me!” and zipped across the street. I followed closely behind, stopping only briefly to eat another mouthful of delicious Oreo Blizzard.

We head to a row of stores, only to miss them and head down a narrow alley in between them… uh oh. We go further and further down, passing little closet rooms and boxes of trash. The noise from the street fades as it bounces back and forth off the cracked cement walls that reach up several stories above me and prevent enough ambient light to make me feel like doing this maybe wasn’t a sound decision.

Finally, I am led into a small room full of purses, and thankfully, I see a Chinese couple who is looking through the merchandise. “See?” I think to myself, “this is a safe place… families shop here.” Still, while I am surrounded by shelves stacked floor to ceiling with purses, the only watch I see is the one on my wrist. A lady who is part of the operation tells me the watches will be here in a minute, and to have a seat. “I’ll stand, thank you,” I say, as the sweat from my palm works at melting my Blizzard down to the point where it is no longer safe to do the upside down trick (which they also do in China before handing it to you).

Finally, a guy walks in with three metal briefcases… you know, the kind you see in movies that are heavy, silver, and usually contain money, cocaine, guns, or bombs. He sets them on an empty shelf and opens them one by one… watches. My ass unclenches as I dumbly examine the merchandise. The guy starts rattling off the reasons why these watches are the real deal, and displays they are quality by banging the face into the meaty part of my palm. As tempting as it was to purchase a Folex or an Omega Spreemaster, I declined… unfortunately for these guys I had already been Shanghaied my first day, and just because a watch is heavy and can bounce off my hand doesn’t mean I’m gonna buy it. “You guys must think I’m some sort of sucker,” I think to myself as I scrape the last bit of Blizzard from the bottom of my cup. I wanted to tape the experience, as it was all so unique, and a little scary, but you kind of know your place in a situation like that, so my words will have to do…

And the rickshaw ride? I told him I wanted to go to the Oriental Pearl, and he said sure! After ten hair raising minutes (the video really didn’t do the experience justice), he got me there…

Oh, I’m sorry… I should have been more clear. When I said I wanted to go to the Oriental Pearl, I meant I wanted to be able to get to it without having to swim. Oh well, I was able to take the picture and then take a cab. There’s a snake of tunnels going under the river… and you think people drive bad in (insert your city, state, country here)… oh boy. I saw people riding their scooters on the sidewalk here. Christ. The tower experience was worth it, though. Very high up, and that Plexiglas walkway was pretty intense. Still, what the hell is a roller coaster doing that high up only to be totally encased? Huh?

And that’s about it for me. I've glanced at the TV, and while the blue dot hasn’t moved, we are officially doing 0.0 knots. Christmas is right around the corner, and like all of you, I have to round up the rest of my presents, only this year I don’t have the advantage of internet shopping or 24 hour access to land. Speaking of Christmas, we’ve opened our Christmas show, and do it almost exclusively throughout the month of December. It’s a nice show, and I can’t help smiling like an idiot at the end of every performance. I mean, hey, I get to dress as Santa and sing about Rudolph, plus I can now sing “Silent Night” in Japanese… yeah, my job is pretty sweet.

Keep on Livin’ the Dream,

Michael Lamendola

(Resting my tired feet 850 feet above the doo doo brown water of Shanghai)

Kon'nichiwa Asuka II Part Ten - Let’s Cross the Street and Poop!

2010-11-17T22:09:00.001-08:00

At the moment the Asuka II is making her way South from Shimizu, a little port with a soccer team and a Ferris wheel, to Kobe, a big port with a Ferris wheel (I'm not sure if they have a soccer team) at a leisurely nine knots. Come to think of it, a lot of Japanese cities have Ferris wheels... I should see how many pictures I have of Ferris wheels... but not now, we've got more important things to discuss.

The Japanese go pee-pee and poo-poo, just like everyone else in the world... but chances are they do it in a way that can be both light years ahead of the way you do it, and cavemanish in comparison. First, let's take a look at what a no-frills Japanese crapper looks like.

This is Japan's traditional, basic tool to take care of your most basic needs. Of course, for us guys going onesies, it's not a big deal, and actually better because you have less chance of water splashing back at you. For the girls, and for anyone having to go number two... well, fortunately I've never been saddled with the task. Essentially, you pop a squat. Notice there are no handlebars to keep you steady. I suppose those who use these toilets on a regular basis have the balance thing down, but you just know at some point in their life they misjudged their own abilities and fell in, or worse... fell during.

Still, even though this toilet is rudimentary, the basin is actually pretty smart. It's hard to see in the picture, but there's a sink built into the top. When you flush, the sink runs, but it drains into the basin; alternatively, when you wash your hands, the water drains elsewhere. This function makes the toilet seem smart in a space saving sort of way, but only halfway makes up for making you precariously hover your ass inches above the floor.

The ironic thing here is while there is nothing available to help you squat, take a look at this decked out urinal.

This particular model is located on the ship, but I've seen the same in a few ports. When I first saw something like this, I didn't know whether I should pee, or swing upside down from my knees. One day I decided to swing upside down from my knees, and got a face full of pee... and now I know better.

So, if the Japanese Potty Pendulum swings one way, it must go an equal distance in the other, right?

Right. This is a typical advanced Japanese john. You can find these in the passenger cabins on the Asuka II, and while they aren't totally decked out, they still are Cadillacs among America's basic Fords and Chevys... or maybe they're Toyotas... no, Lexus... Lexuses... Lexi? Anyway, the manufacturer of your vehicle always includes an owner's manual, so our upscale Toyota toilet shouldn't be any different. Sure enough, under the lid is some helpful advice on how to best enjoy your commode.

Okay, so what I gather here is don't bring your water hose inside and spray your toilet down. Also, don't let your kids climb all over the toilet... that's what the jungle gym urinals are for. Finally, don't treat your toilet as a recliner. Are we all clear? Good, let's move on to the controls.

Yes, controls. These toilets plug into the wall. When you sit down, the toilet senses you (that's one job that's better off for automation) and freshens the water basin, cooling your bee-hind without splashing it. Then, you do what you came to do. Next, turn the dial and pick your poison. In other places I've... gone... there are only pictures, like the one's here. So, picking the huge blue butt I push the button. You hear a buzzing coming from below as the sprayer readies itself into firing position. Once it does, it's actually pretty nice. The water is heated to a comfortable temperature, and may I say that the aim is always dead on... I mean dead... on. The first time I used one, it was a little shocking, then nice, then shocking again because the water wasn't stopping. I panicked for a few moments until I realized the toilet, like my old Sony Walkman, had a stop button. Push stop, and the water stops; the mechanical buzz sounding from below as the toilet holsters its weapon.

Of course, carrying on my stunning car to toilet metaphor, you can actually option out your rig. Some of the more deluxe electronic poopers I've used have had automated lids, heated seats, and a post-business air freshener that activates once your business is concluded. Honestly, there have been days when I knew I was going to be close to one of the fully decked out models, and I purposely held it until I got there. Like I said in a previous blog, it really does make the act of going poopsies a regal event.

BUT... it's a funny thing, that pendulum. While the toilets I just mentioned are in fact public, they are usually found in upscale hotels and restaurants. What if you're walking down the street when mother nature calls? Well, there are options, like this one:

Funny thing, I only discovered how visible I was when I was inside. Pedestrians walk by, and that window is eye level. Maybe people have had conversations, long lost friends reunite, maybe two hopeful lovers finding romance... you know like say Fred is inside, and Bill walks by:

Bill: Well, hey Fred! I haven't seen you in some time!

Fred: Bill, how the hell are ya?

Bill: (walking up to, and leaning against, the window) Fine, fine. How's the wife and kids?

Fred: Just super Fred... just super.

And so on and so forth.

Finally, on the subject of bathrooms, I did find another seemingly very public bathroom in a little town called Tanegashima.

Look at that... they done made themselves a Hello Kitty welcome statue out of floaty buoy things! And if Hello Kitty could turn around, she'd see you standing there doing your business. Hello Kitty... hello.

Okay, let's move on from bathrooms to a subject that I only became aware of a couple days ago. Take a look at the following picture.

See anything interesting? Go ahead, take your time... I'll wait. When you think you know the answer, watch the video below:

Yeah, I just busted a little Street Fighter II on y’all… it’s how I roll. And, in case you are wondering, yes, there are stop lights for the cars and walk indicators for the pedestrians. This wasn't an isolated incident, either. Now that my eyes are open, I am seeing these guys everywhere. Yesterday I was walking along a sidewalk, and they had half of it (the side closest to the building, not the street) dug up to work on some pipes. It was fenced off pretty good, but just in case Stupid Sam comes ambling up the sidewalk with his head buried in his Sudoku book, there's a uniformed city employee with a nice blue jacket, white gloves, and a red flag to help Sam through to safety... poor, stupid Sam.

So, since then, I've taken me some pictures of Japanese crossing guards. Here's my current favorite.

Seriously Japan? Really? No wonder the Yen is falling.

But hey, that reminds me of a joke... Why did the Japanese guy cross the road? Give up? To ride the damn slide in Sakaiminato! That's right, friends, part three of my series of videos displaying both my abundance of free time, and my relation to stupid Sudoku playing Sam (second cousins) is right below.

Okay, so maybe that isn't the real answer to the joke. No, actually, the reason why the Japanese guy crossed the road is to get to the Pachinko Parlour! Right now I don't know why I haven't got a picture of the outside of one of these things, but they are either a windowless bank type building, or a windowless glowing neon bastard of a thing sitting right across the street from its own second cousin. Now then, let's get one thing straight: gambling in Japan is ILLEGAL. But pachinko isn't gambling, no sir! You pay money, get balls. The idea is to win more balls. Take all the balls you when to the front, and trade them in for fabulous prizes! Then you march outside with your fabulous prize and sell it back at the pachinko parlour's own pawn shop... for money. Sneaky sneaky, Japan... but how do you win those coveted little balls?

Needless to say, I haven't won at pachinko. There are also slot machines that you play in the same way. Money buys credit, and the goal is to build it. While each pachinko parlour has its various little aesthetic differences, they are always big buildings containing rows and rows of pachinko and slot machines, the air is thick with smoke, and it is LOUD. I mean factory loud. Take one machine and let it drop a hundred metal balls against its metal pegs, and you might be a little annoyed, but you'll live. Now drop a thousand of those machines into one room and let them belch out their cacophonous metal symphony and see how long it takes for your ears to explode.

So, if pachinko has found its way around Japan's no gambling stance, what else can you get away with?

Off track betting, apparently. Now then, turn your speakers up and listen to that picture above. Yeah, listen to it. Hear that? That's exactly what the room sounded like. I could have studied for my final exams in there, it was so deathly quiet, and quite the difference from the afore mentioned pachinko parlours. So yeah, gambling is illegal in Japan, except for pachinko, slot machines, horse racing... I'll let you know when I see my first cock fight.

In other news, I've kind of given up the ghost on shrines, having seen my fair share, and yours, over the past months. However, I did see one that was worth taking a picture of:

Remember that Golden Book story about the little house, and the city grew around it? No? Oh well, in any case, I find it amusing that there's a place for sanctuary located in front of a multilevel parking structure, and across the street from a gigantic mall.

Here's a store that's apparently also a paradox. “Children Will.” Umm, okay, children will what? Buy five pairs of socks for 1,050 yen? No, that can't be it... okay, I give up... seriously... Children Will what? This is driving me crazy!

Oh hey, I finally made it into the bowels of the ship to see the engine room. I tell ya, the noise in a pachinko parlour doesn't even come close. Wearing big ol' ear phones and safety glasses I ventured into decks 2 and 1 to get a look. Loud to be sure, but clean as well. Oh, and hot... wow... hot. Here's a quick video:

Finally, here's one of my favorite foods in Japan, and it ain't got no fish or rice in it!

This here is some ice cream they call “monaka.” Just take a look at that beautiful golden beast. It's soft serve contained in a ice cream cone type shell (that, sadly, is probably made from rice). You take a bite, and you get a perfect mix of cone and soft serve! And not just one bite, but every bite! And since the thing is fully contained, it never gets drippy! And sometimes they put chocolate or jelly inside!AWESOME! This is my new vice... and you know what, I think I am goin' to put this blog down and eat me one. Yeah, I keep a stock in my little freezer.

Keep on Livin' The Dream,

Michael Lamendola

(In my Halloween getup. This year I went as “The Guy Who Ate Too Much Japanese Food.” Yeah, those are real chopsticks... and yeah, Asuka II's official Halloween party was November 7^th.)

P.S.

Now that you've learned about how I pee and poo, maybe you should take a gander at how I bathe! All of the juicy details can be gleaned over there at “Kon'nichiwa Asuka II Part Two – The Pros and Cons of Bathing.”

Kon’nichiwa Asuka II Part Nine - Oh My God… It’s Still Moving

2010-10-30T00:03:00.000-07:00

At the moment I am in my cabin, getting ready for the first of two Magical Dreams performances tonight. For this show I use my cabin as a dressing room, since all my entrances and exits take place stage right, and the men’s dressing room is off stage left. I wouldn’t have thought of this myself, but the guy before me did, and who am I to break tradition? Besides, in between entrances I get to watch game two of The 2010 World Series, rebroadcasted from last night, where it’s tied at zero at the top of the second. That’s about all I know, because the commentary is in Japanese.

So, with about half an hour before the show starts, I have some time to sit down and tell y’all about all of my comings and goings during the past few weeks… and to be quite honest, it’s just one big piece of news surrounded by filler. But hey, gotta make you work for it, so let’s start with some filler.

First of all, we made it back to Sakaiminato… which we all know is best known for it’s awesome slide. Well, it turns out that the passengers like to visit the city for an entirely different reason.

This is Mizuki Shigeru Road, named after a famous Japanese cartoonist. Hard to tell from the picture, but lining the four or so blocks of this street are hundreds of bronze statues that represent his creations, including this:

I forget the name, but this is Mizuki’s Mickey Mouse. The eye he is holding, which is usually seen popping out of the kid’s head, is also his father. That’s about all I know, but the popularity of this character spans many generations, and is literally plastered on anything that can be purchased with yen. For example:

To my knowledge, I’ve never seen Mickey or Donald hawkin’ malt liquor, but this eye knows how to move sake.

With all the excitement of bronze statues and merchandising, it only took me an hour to get the whole experience, so I hopped back on the crew shuttle. Back at the ship, and with over four hours of port time remaining, I felt like I should do something productive to take advantage of this fine city and all it has to offer… so I went back to the slide.

If you think that’s sad, wait until you see part three… and four… don’t worry, I’ll pace myself.

In other ho hum news, I recently visited the port of Hamada for the first time. When I looked out my porthole to gauge my potential enjoyment, I realized I may need a new formula.

Okay, so since I’ve replaced stacks of wood with hundreds of earth moving machines, how does that affect my “amount of piles multiplied by size of parking lot on pier inversely equaling my enjoyment factor” equation? Well, let’s see… what did I do that day?

Went to a Japanese flea market… no joke. If you’ve been to one in America, or Russia like I have, you realize that any country’s junk is just that… junk. All the things you’d expect to find are here, like old family photographs, vintage postcards, ancient and outdated electronics, and my personal favorite: taxidermied animals.

I must have saw a dozen of these… still, I didn’t see any trophy deer or sets of longhorns. I guess a Japanese flea market does have its differences, but that doesn’t change the fact that large amounts of stuff on the pier generally make for an disappointing port experience. The equation stands.

Okay, okay… enough putting off… let’s get to the main event. Not to long ago we made it back to Hakodate. You’ll recall that it was here that I met a woman named Yoshie, and her daughter Miyuki, who each showed me around the city, and later the neighboring town of Onuma. With ports like Sakaiminato and Hamada fresh on my mind, Hakodate is a welcome change of pace, and once again I was shown around town by my expert tour guide Yoshie.

First stop was an observation tower, then a Western style fortress, lunch… but the big highlight of the day was finally getting acquainted with live squid. And by acquainted, I mean eating it. Or to put it another way… I ate live squid.

(This is the part of the blog that you came to see, by the way, so you can stop skimming here)

Tell you what, since words really don’t do the whole experience justice, let’s just take a look at the video.

So, is it really alive? Well, not really… but from the time I hooked the squid, maybe three minutes passed before it was hitting the bottom of my gullet. The reason for this is because the squid tastes better when it’s fresh. At least, that’s what the Japanese tell me… having had quite a bit of sushi style squid up to this point, I really don’t think it has much of a flavor anyway. Eating it live is certainly exotic, but I’d be lying if I said I could taste the difference.

Here’s a close-up of my plate of live squid. You can see the tentacles there at the bottom. Above them is the body (which I think is the part that is usually fried up for calamari). The yellow stuff is ginger, and the little chunks just above and to the left is the squid’s liver. Not shown is a pint of Sapporo, which greatly aids in the appreciation, and digestion, of live squid. The whole thing cost us 1200 yen (a little over fourteen bucks), and is enough for three or four (like minded) people to share.

And, as far as the movement is concerned… yeah, it was still moving. You could notice the tentacles slowly writhing on the plate, but once they were dipped into the soy sauce, look out. Those suckers, as you saw, were dancing. Fortunately, I did not feel them putting up a fight as my molars did their thing. However, I did not try to keep the thing in my mouth as if it were a lozenge, so perhaps my chewing stopped it from moving (as it should). And speaking of suckers…What you are seeing is the squid still clinging to its body. This picture was taken over ten minutes after this poor, ugly thing met its eventual demise… that’s it buddy, never give up the fight.

The big question is, would I have it again? Well, first of all, I would eat live squid over a South Korean bug any day of the week; I prefer wiggling and mostly flavorless over not moving and tasting like ass. It certainly was an event, that’s for sure, but not one I would go out of my way to repeat. Still, Hakodate is well known for this, so the odds of me catching squid in my lifetime are pretty slim.

Okay, that was the big news… anything else to report?

Saw this at a Yako Yen shop (Japanese dollar store). Apparently, in the shrink wrap is some special panty hose, with holes for four heads. Perhaps after you and your three buddies get done eating some live squid, you can each pop this sucker on your head to see who picks up the tab. Let’s see what the rules are to this… game.

The rules on the back state:

Put the panty hose on your head.
Pull with four people at the same time!
If you keep the panty hose on your head to the end, you win!

Wow… Below the rules of the game are the warnings. Make sure you:

Do not put the panty hose game in your mouth… bad enough you’re breathing it in.
Do not use this product improperly… which I find interesting given the whole nature of the product is improper.
Do not wind product around your neck (to be filed under improper usage).
see a doctor if “unusual symptoms” occur.

Also, you need to be aware that this product could discolor from use, which is another indicator that this shouldn’t be put in your mouth. But man, that’s an embarrassing amount of fun for 200 yen! Still, I would like to see four ingenious bank robbers pull a heist wearing one of these.

And finally, I think I’ll end with Hello Kitty. I’ve noticed Hello Kitty in a lot of places during my time in Japan. The thing is pretty popular, and I’ve seen the kitty on things from merchandise to advertising. However, the other day I found a very suspicious, and official, Sanrio Hello Kitty product.

You can say what you want, but Hello Kitty is definitely flipping you off.

Keep on Livin’ the Dream,

Michael Lamendola

(Hanging out on top of Mt. Hakodate)

P.s.

I finish up the blog after my two previously mentioned performances of Magical Dreams. During my last entrance I miss the last two innings, and, hold on… when the hell did the Giants get seven runs? Better step it up, Rangers.

Kon'nichiwa Asuka II Part Eight - Watch Me Eat A Bug

2010-10-08T19:35:00.000-07:00

At the moment I am sitting in cabin number 6278. Outside my water stained porthole a container ship slips slowly to our aft, heading in the same direction as the Asuka II, but at a slightly slower clip. We left Yokohama this morning, tying down just long enough to let go of roughly four hundred and fifty pax, and at a current speed of 21.9 knots (holy cow, we are hauling some serious ass!) we make our way to Kobe.

Speaking of Kobe, I finally made it back after my initial visit almost three months ago. This time I made sure to load pictures onto my computer as soon as my feet hit deck 6, and for good reason...

What you are seeing is Kobe beef being cooked at the center of my table (called “yakiniku” here in Japan). Let me take a moment and brag... I ate Kobe Beef in Kobe. This sort of accomplishment goes up there with drinking Bordeaux wine in Bordeaux, and eating French fries in France (yeah, yeah, I know... but they don't call them Belgium fries, now do they?). So, how's Kobe beef? Delicious. As a matter of fact, it's so good that you can even eat it like this...

What you're looking at is a plate of freshly ground Kobe beef with a raw egg on top. Although I never heard it trumpeted, I can assume it's a Kobe egg as well. For all you carnivores out there, let me be clear: even when it's raw, covered in slimy uncooked egg, and slowly dripping off your chopsticks, Kobe beef is still awesome. And speaking of egg, the Japanese think of eggs the way Americans think of cheese, that is to say eggs can enhance any meal. I've seen it as an option on everything from rice bowls to hamburgers, and from sushi to ice cream... okay, I made that last one up, but that doesn't mean it doesn't exist, only that I haven't seen it yet. I mean, come on, they do eat wasabi ice cream after all.

Anyway, all kinds of Kobe beef and seafood were consumed at this tucked away little mom and pop place that some passengers knew of, and in turn treated me to. My job was to sit and knock back Japanese draft beer and watch my hosts prepare the meat, which was brought raw, platter after platter, by an old Japanese woman whose other job was to yell at what I can only assume to be her family that helped her run the restaurant. The sunken, gas fired grill in the center of the table did quick work of the bite sized strips of beef, and mere minutes passed from platter to palette. Boy, lemme tell you, after four months of rice and fish, Japanese BBQ is a very welcome change of pace, and has since ruined me for the afore mentioned rice and fish... sigh.

But it hasn't all been Sake wishes and Kobe beef dreams around here... because soon after hitting Kobe the Asuka II made a detour to South Korea.

Here I am sitting in front of the Choenjiyeon Waterfall, the largest on the small island of Cheju (or Jeju, as I saw on many taxi cabs and signs in the area). So, we came to South Korea, and I saw a waterfall... big deal. what kind of blog would this be if I stopped there? Not a blog I would write, that's for sure.

This, friends, is a simmering pot full of bugs. What kind? Who cares! When you're offered a chance to eat a freshly cooked bug, you don't waste time asking what kind; you simply jump up and down in a panicked glee with your watering mouth agape. Seriously, this pot was not the only one, as almost every vendor close by had an identical vat full of the same looking bugs, fully cooked and ready to move.

Standing down wind of the hot bug stew, I can only describe the smell as “meaty, foul, and thick.” You could purchase a cup of bugs for a price, but for visitors such as myself, sampler toothpicks were handy to quickly convert the non-initiated into true believers. So, when the lady noticed I was standing with my head cocked, trying to make sense of the crock pot of insects, she grabbed a toothpick, stabbed a bug, and handed it to me, grinning. Immediately, my mind raced to the old joke “what's the difference between an oral thermometer and an anal one,” as I took hold of the sliver of wood that skewered the bug, cooked and dead, on top. And the taste?

Yeah, it tasted like a bug... and no, I am not interested in having another one. Back on board, I told my story to some Filipinos, who inquired as to the type of bug (still no idea, although they said crickets are the Kobe beef of the bug world), how it was prepared (simmered in water and the bug's own natural juices, I suppose, since I've never seen Kerr's brand bug bullion cubes), and was vinegar involved (no). “Well, you didn't have a good bug!” they say to me, smiling the same way the South Korean lady did when she handed me the toothpick. Then they told me I should try one prepared in the traditional Filipino way, to which I politely declined, reminding them that they make the same promises about balut (basically a rotten egg that contains a half formed chicken fetus).

But South Korea isn't all about bugs and waterfalls. The day before Cheju we hit Pusan.

This picture was taken on top of the Busan tower (another alternate spelling of a South Korean city), located in Yongdusan Park. The park, which had a couple other things like a statue of an important Korean figure and one of those large flower beds that doubled as a working clock, was hidden on top of a hill that overlooked Texas street, a busy, name brand shopping district. It was on my way back from the park that I discovered a South Korean (Hindu?) temple, also hidden, this time on a larger building's rooftop.

Yeah, there were hundreds of those little gold statues. Yeah, I took off my shoes before entering the temple. Yeah, I took that last picture without permission.

So, South Korea was exotic and delicious... which reminds me... remember our green friend from the last blog?

Well, with the help of my Japanese friends and Wikipedia, this is what I know: his name is Marimokkori, which from what I have learned is a combination of two words. The first word is “marimo,” which, as described by Wikipedia, is “a rare growth form of the species of filamentous green algae (Chlorophyta) that grow in some of Hokkaidō's lakes, where the algae grows into large green balls with a velvety appearance.” The second word is “mokkori,” which essentially is Japanese slang for a boner. So, with this in mind, Marimokkori literally means “green algae balls boner.” It's still anyone's guess why that would make him smile the way he does. His popularity is due to nothing more than merchandising, which from what I gather includes cartoon shows on television. And from the picture below, I also gather that there is a Marimokkori for every boy and girl in your family.

Fortunately, my visits to Japanese ports have been more culturally stimulating than a stimulated puppet.

As promised in my last blog, I forewent (forewent? Since when do I use that word? Is that even a word? I gotta stop eating bugs) the opportunity to sample Nagasaki spongecake (spongecake? What's spongecake?) and instead visited the Nagasaki Peace Park. Nagasaki, as I am sure we all know, is infamously known for being one of America's World War II atom bomb targets (although not first on the list, as Nagasaki was targeted last minute when the originally planned city, Kokura, was shrouded in thick clouds, making it impossible for the B-29 Bomber to target).

The peace park is a large sculpture garden, where many countries have contributed statues celebrating global peace. The above picture is Japan's own contribution. The statue's right hand points upward to symbolize the threat of an atomic bomb, the left reaching for world peace, while the eyes remain closed in prayer of the bomb's victims. That's all very nice and symbolic, but holy cow, does that statue have a nice head of hair...

I mean, it's perfect. He must use a leave in conditioner for all day moisture and shine. Oh, but he has a secret. He gets salon hair at home, without the salon price, and from a two in one! Don't tell his stylist...

Around the park are other monuments, including the bomb's hypo center (the bomb actually detonated 500 meters above the city), various statues and information, and an atomic bomb museum, which included startling artifacts that endured the blast.

This is... was a water tower. I forget exactly where it was in the blast's radius, but the metal was bent like a plastic straw. What's most interesting about all of this is that while taking it all in... the statues that lay on park ground that was once obliterated, the museum full of mangled relics, and everything else, I was at all times surrounded by Japanese school children, obviously brought there to learn about the very real casualties of war. Through it all, while I walked from place to place among these kids, it all felt very peaceful, almost surreal, to see them playing and laughing among these stoic reminders of some very bad decisions.

And hey, since we're talking about kids, if you can't find a Marimokkori doll at your local Walmart, then take the short bus ride to Nagasaki and pick them up one of these...

But parents, remember, this toy is for kids ages six years and older... at least, that's what the box says. Now, if the manufacturers of this toy really had a sense of humor, they would explain that the toy could also be a choking hazard... I mean, if you're gonna put an age requirement on a plastic boob, let's go all the way with it. Another acceptable quip would contain the words “complete set.”

So, after squeezing all the juice outta Nagasaki, we moved on to some other Japanese ports of varying interest. One worth mentioning is Maizuru, where after grabbing a map I ventured out and found me a whole mess of shrines and temples. Mostly located at the base of a mountain, some were big and impressive, while others lay somewhat forgotten. However, I can now say that shrines and temples are starting to feel the same way as cathedrals in Europe and Russian palaces... you've seen one, you've seen them all. Still, sometimes the path leading to the shrine is better than the shrine itself. Case in point is the following video. One of the shrines I visited during my day in Maizuru was not located at the mountain's base, but at the top...

On the subject of the bell, I really don't know whether ringing it is encouraged or not. On one hand, I've seen bells like this at many of the shrines I've visited, all with ropes hanging down from the banging stick that look so, so inviting. But since I was around a bunch of people, many times who are there meditating, or tending to the shrine, I left the rope alone. Here, on the other hand, I was up a mountain and all by myself, so what the hell. It was after my cloak and dagger exploits that a father and son ambled up the hill. Seeing the rope, the boy ran ahead of his dad and swung on that sucker as if the bell was some kind of candy dispensing Japanese pinata. Dad just looked on, I think halfway expecting the same thing. Of course, even if the bell was some convincing paper-maché facsimile, I know better than to think any Japanese candy would be worth eating... but that talk is best saved for the food blog.

Coming back from my hike, I took a stroll through town to get back to the ship, and that's where I found something unique.

That, friends, is a battery vending machine. At first it seems kind of strange, but then I think of some of the drug stores I've frequented, where they keep the damn things behind locked plexiglass. Now that I consider how long I waited for the graveyard shift reminder of why higher education is so important to come out of hiding with the ring of keys so I can purchase four AA batteries, I can't understand why these things aren't in America.

Speaking of vending machines, let me say that you can't walk a city block anywhere in Japan without seeing several of them. They contain everything from colas to water, and canned coffee that is both hot and cold. Pricing tends to float over a hundred yen, sometimes up to one-fifty depending on the location. Not forgetting that, at the moment, eighty-three yen equals a dollar, the Japanese vending machine people seem to have things figured out, since a 100 yen coin still feels small compared to the 500 yen coin, and even smaller when considered next to the 1,000 yen note (the smallest of their paper currency). Think about that next time you bitch about a seventy-five cent can of soda.

Still, with a country that has a limitless array of vending machines, I would be remiss if I didn't have a favorite... and I do.

Man, I love me some Suntory vending machines. I mean, they function just like all the other vending machines, but look at the side. “SUNTORY BOSS is the boss of them all since 1992.” I love that! Suntory Boss, in all caps, is the hot damn boss of them all! Above the slogan is the picture of Suntory himself, calmly smoking his pipe, but ready to kick some ass if shit goes down. Yeah, I said it... and I believe it. I truly hope that one day I see one these machines sprout beefy arms and legs and beat the syrupy carbonated hell out of some other mama's boy vending machine. Yeah, I might sound crazy, but wait a second, who is that on the front of the Suntory Boss (who is the undisputed, heavyweight champion of every last stinkin' one of them, since nineteen-freaking-ninety-two) vending machine?

Tommy Lee Jones doing his best Easter Island Statue impersonation! Oh, it's on now! IT'S ON!!! One of you wussy little battery hawkin' squirts even think about steppin' one foot into Suntory Boss's territory, and one of these big blue beautiful monsters is gonna sprout big ass arms and legs and run at you with rusty barbed wire wrapped around its hairy knuckles, and the last thing you'll see before that sweaty fist punches you straight into your C-cells is the fire and venom that will erupt from Tommy Lee's flared nostrils... and that is why SUNTORY BOSS is the boss of them all... since 1992... and don't you ever... EVER forget it.

Keep on Livin' the Dream,

Michael Lamendola

(Taking a quick kneel in the hidden temple in Pusan, South Korea)

P.s.

Try finding a trash can to dispose of your soda bottle anywhere in Japan, and you'll be outta luck. Seriously, you compare New York City, with its dirty streets and overflowing trash cans, to the spic-and-span Japanese boulevards that are void of any refuse receptacles, and you'll be left scratching your head (while still holding onto your plastic bottle). But then you realize all those sissy little trash cans have run cryin' to their momma, because SUNTORY BOSS IS THE BOSS OF THEM ALL!!!! SINCE 1992!!!! HE AND TOMMY LEE JONES ARE GONNA WHUP SOME ASS, EAT PLASTIC BOTTLES, AND CRAP SHINY CHROME PLATED YEN!!!! AAARRRRGGHHH!!!!

...never eat South Korean bugs...

Kon'nichiwa Asuka II Part Seven - Exotic, Delicious, Stimulating

2010-09-17T00:31:00.000-07:00

At the moment the Asuka II is sailing into the port of Tomakomai, a port I know nothing about, in the northern part of Japan. Funny thing is that I've been here before, or so I've been told. Turns out we were here one morning a couple of days ago to embark some new pax, but since we were tied to land for a total of three hours, there was no time to get off the ship. Unfortunately, this has been the case for a good chunk of September, and part of August for that matter.

I mentioned in an earlier blog that this is all due to the Asuka II's charter season, where companies and organizations buy out the ship for their own groups. Much like a psychiatrist’s office, the Asuka II decides to keep vessel/passenger confidentiality, so during these charter cruises one organization gets off, and the next day another gets on... and never the two shall meet. Although this has given us more than the occasional ballast night (a repositioning cruise with no passengers on board), the other strange byproduct is more sea days than originally expected.

Take September for example: By looking at all the days that have a city's name by them on our itinerary, it would seem like we have 27 port days out of the 30 day month. In reality, if you take out all the ports where crew have no chance of getting off the ship, those 27 port days shrink to 16... or, to put it another way, an additional 11 sea days. Adding that to the existing 3 sea days, and the month starts to look a little less impressive.

With that said, I can admit that it's been difficult to find anything to write about. That's not to say the past two weeks have gone by in a sea day haze, but for a blog that is supposed to be about interesting things happening in faraway lands... well... I've found that in order to write this, I have to really dig deep... and fair warning: the deeper I go, the worse this blog'll get (or better, depending on your sense of humor). Anyway, to keep things interesting, I'll try and go in chronological order...

Hamada, Japan. Big parking lot. Lots of wood. Looks like going chronological doesn't make things interesting at all.

Next up we revisited Sakaiminato... aside from a jog in near pass-out heat, this port further proves the parking lot and wood equation. Need further proof? Revisit the video below:

Then came Fushiki and Akita, both pretend port days due to lack of time. Thankfully, after that we took a vacation from Japan.

Ah, Vladivostok... First of all, our comrades at Vladivostok didn't seem to mind that the crew only had two internationally identifiable forms of identification, so we were let off the ship with zero hassle... the score is now Crew 2, Russia 1... your move, Russia... your move. So, with pockets bursting full of rubles, and an overnight with which to burn them all, the crew took off. The production cast, led by Kosta (our Russian born adage male), went out for a nice Russian meal, followed by a dance club that we helped to shut down at four in the morning. Pictures were taken, but if I didn't tell you we were in Russia, they would look like any old restaurant and club. But, I did set out on my own to find some onions...

Found em'.

I suppose the only interesting thing worth mentioning is that immediately after I set foot on Russian soil, this is the first thing I see:

I think some of the passengers at the time actually did this for the Russians, but I prefer to think that instead it was some Russians with a little vodka and a lot of time to practice. Anyway, we came, we saw, we drank copious amounts of potato squeezings, and we left.

Then came a couple more make believe port days, followed by stupid Sakiminato, after which we landed in Nagasaki.

The drums have become pretty standard for Japanese ports, a constant no matter how much wood, or lack thereof. So, Nagasaki... I know what you're thinking. Nagasaki is definitely known for something. Yep, it is...

Sponge Cake! Lots and lots and lots of sponge cake! No kidding, everywhere I went I was tempted to try sponge cake. Each time I feigned interest and surprise, like when I greedily go to a grocery store to try samples. Sponge cake? What's that? Oh that's delicious! I'll have to think about getting some of that. Then on to the next... I've never had sponge cake before! A minute later... I didn't know such a thing existed! And so on. But hey, you may think I'm joking, but there is sponge cake, and sponge cake related paraphernalia, littering the streets and stores on either side of the curb! But don't take my word for it:

Sponge cake dolls of every shape and size!

Hello Kitty likes sponge cake!

Elmo likes sponge cake!

Mickey likes sponge cake!

This... this thing likes sponge cake too!

But hey, all that sponge cake has got to go somewhere, right?

Yep, Nagasaki joins the ranks as producer of white trash pooping toys such as the pooping pig, and the American classic, the candy dispensing pooping moose, which can be seen by visiting any tourist store in Alaska.

Okay, all right... I hear you. I am in Nagasaki, and there is much more important stuff to talk about than sponge cake and crapping key chains.

Next time I'll go to the Nagasaki Peace Memorial Park, promise.

Then two more make believe ports came and went, followed by another damn visit to Sakaiminato! What the hell is happening here? The funny thing is, while the port looks mountainous and rugged, the reason we stop here is so the passengers can walk down a street that is famous because a certain cartoon was invented there. This isn't some huge attraction like Disney Land, just a street where some dude drew something. But hey, since I haven't seen it with my own eyes, it could be just as exotic and romantic as Nagasaki...

Anyway, after another thrilling Sakaiminato, we have two more (sigh...) make believe ports, followed by another ballast night, during which the Asuka II ran a test of her alarm system... holy cow, all I can say is it works... no, seriously, it works. Really. Guys? Hello? It works! It works! IT WORKS! IT F'ING WORKS!!! SHUT UP! SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP! THE BELLS! THE BELLS!!! But don't take my word for it...

After the bells quit ringing (in my stupid aching head) we made it to Otaru. This port ain't so bad, actually. You'll recall the last time I was here I witnessed a parade where a bunch of dudes marched down the street, lifting large scale wooden representations of local shrines (Asuka II Part Four). Since I had pretty much found everything worth seeing on the map the last time, I spent the better part of the day catching up on Email. With a couple hours left, I followed my nose, and discovered what could best be described as Otaru's Historic Main Street. Before I continue, I want you to take a breath and recall where this blog has been so far... got it? Good, now lower your expectations even further...

Found this little guy at a souvenir shop. You try dressing like that and winking at people... you'll get arrested. But hey, think this is some one off creation? Oh no...

I swear to you, just a moment before I took this picture, a happy family posed their infant baby in the fish's cut out hole. Plus, if you look above our happy green guy, you might find the reason for his condition. Finally, since a picture doesn't offer much in the way of dimension, I offer you exhibit C.

Perhaps Otaru, not Nagasaki, should be considered exotic and romantic... I think I'll write their local board of tourism. Still, there must be a singular reason why I have only encountered the little green guy with a stiffy in Otaru, and the reason was just a couple blocks down. The reason is because:

I've officially hit rock bottom.

Keep on Livin' The Dream,

Michael Lamendola

(Trying some delicious sponge cake in Nagasaki... sponge cake? What's sponge cake?)

Kon'nichiwa Asuka II Part Six - Proving The Stacks of Wood Equation

2010-09-03T04:14:00.000-07:00

At the moment I am sitting, once again, in the Galaxy Lounge. Across the room I can see the faint outline of a mountain in the distance as we pass it by at a leisurely 12 knots, on our way to a place called Fushiki... and that's pretty much all I will ever know about Fushiki, as we are only stopping by long enough to drop off the pax... and that's because the Asuka II is in the middle of her charter season, where companies and organizations buy out the entire ship to show their employees and members a good time. This is both a good thing, and a bad thing, for the crew.

On the up side we have the occasional ballast night, where the ship sails without any paying guests on board, allowing the crew a night off, and out on deck. Tonight, for example, we have a party on the pool deck, which is a rarity considering that even those of us with passenger status are unable to enjoy certain pax areas like the pool.

On the down side, aside from the ballast nights, I am basically told to stay out of sight, passenger status be damned. That means unless I am jogging on the promenade deck 7, I am locked to my cabin or the stage. Fortunately we have ports nearly everyday, and since the social atmosphere in the evening is not like it was on The Dream, the only thing I'm really missing out on is the occasional coffee or light snack in one of our bars or cafes. Otherwise, it's still ship life as usual.

The charter cruises have also brought a busier show schedule, and thankfully that has also brought in a higher “butt to seat” ratio for each performance. Still, more patronage also can bring about more problems, like an audience who claps along with the music en masse and off tempo. Then there's the people who choose to sit right next to the stage so they can have a conversation so loud that I can hear them over the white hot speakers blasting out a mix of the music and my voice. Finally, of course, the chronic nappers have increased in number, and can sleep through the cacophony of my voice, the music, and the people catching up on the day's events sitting right next to them... all the while I stand on stage thinking yeah... this is my calling.

But the reason you're reading this isn't to learn about the sleeping habits of a far away culture (right?), but instead to learn about the culture's... culture... I gotta stop writing these things when I'm drunk. Anyway, over the past couple of weeks it's been a mixture of interesting experiences and expansive, wood piled parking lots. Let's set up the slide carousel and see what's been happening...

Saw a shrine...

and the cemetery behind it.

Found a public bathroom at a park... man, that's a public bathroom. Speaking of Japanese bathrooms, I've been meaning to address this, but so far all I've seen... experienced, rather... are the intelligent, heated seat, water squirting ones that make the act of going poopsies a regal event. Once I experience the other method of dropping the kids off at the pool, I'll give you a full report.

Those past few pictures we're taken in the town of Toba, which, if memory serves correctly, is located in Southern Japan... and then again, I could be a hundred percent wrong about that, since I don't have any internet handy to check my facts. Anyway, Toba, like most of the ports I've visited, is a place where you have to know where you're going to get any enjoyment out of the place. Fortunately, I stumbled upon a tourist information building, which was not very convenient to the tender station where the pax and crew were dropped off. Once there, I picked up a map with English scribbled on it, and learned a new fact:

Apparently, the women of Toba have large breasts, and wear hollowed out mayonnaise jars for hats.

Anyway, because of that map I found the shrine, cemetery, and crapper in the park. Next up on my hit list was some sort of scenic outlook that was at the top of a hillside. Following my nose up the curvy road, I came to the halfway point, noted on the map as the Medaka School. Its description on the map read “A learning environment where you can make use of biotapes, pinwheels, and waterwheels. You can relax in the foot spa while enjoying the view.” After stopping by, I think the description should read “Abandoned hippie commune where strange wooden statues creak and groan from the power of hydroponics. You can relax in the foot spa while enjoying the view.”

After walking down a gravel drive I came to an open building, where, once inside, I was greeted by wall to wall display cases filled with figurines of all shapes and sizes playing musical instruments.

After spending a few minutes admiring the collection, I walk outside and find the foot spa and scenic view.

Here's the foot spa. Actually, this part of the “school” was pretty cool. Walking up to a large metal frog, you toss in 50 yen (at the moment a dollar is equal to 86 yen) into its mouth, and place your shoes and socks into a cubby hole. Then you walk down a cement path to the pool and soak your feet in the warm water. So, with a cold drink in hand (you can literally throw a rock and hit a vending machine anywhere in Japan) the view was soaked in, as were my tired feet.

That's the Asuka II sitting off in the distance. When you're finished there are foot towels provided by the large metal frog. I was there for about thirty minutes, and I didn't see anyone... except for the strange wooden water powered marionettes. They played a backdrop of creaking and clanking during my foot soak just loud enough to remind me that I had to walk back to the ship, and that there was a distant possibility that one of those creepy things would shove a knife in my back. Here come's the video:

So, Toba was a success... but it's not always cheese and crackers around here. Imagine my exhilarated shrieks of joy when I open my curtain one morning to see this...

Like a child on Christmas day I throw on my clothes and scamper up to deck 7 to get an eye full.

Friends, if you've ever wondered why the Japanese use chopsticks, it's because they need to find a way to use all the trees they knock down. Holy hell that's a lot of timber... all neatly piled on a stadium sized parking lot. So, using the parking lot wood equation set up in previous posts, mathematically the port of Sakaiminato will be about as fun as a dentist appointment in the reference section of your local public library. But hey, sometimes the long odds pay off, right?

Then there was Hakodate. At this particular port we have a crew shuttle that, for a hundred yen, will take you to a shopping mall close to the ship, or to downtown Hakodate. One day I hop on the bus with laptop in hand; I'll just go to the coffee shop and check my mail. Along the way I get into a conversation with a local woman, Yoshi, who asked me what I was planning to do. I told her that I planned to visit Mt. Hakodate, a mountain that looks over the entire city, at a later date. She suggested that I see it today, and since she works for the city bringing in tourism, specializing in cruise ships, I felt she could be right. So, a chance meeting on the bus ended up getting me a private tour guide for the entire day. Of course, planning on doing nothing but deleting junk mail, I neglected to bring my camera. Fortunately, she had a cell phone handy... here's the view from the top

Yeah, it's a cell phone picture, but it looks a lot better than the dry macaroni and food coloring job I did on green construction paper.

So, we took in the mountain, had lunch at a roof top Italian place, and walked through the historical district with your typical brick and mortar fisheries and factories reborn as shops and restaurants. Back at the ship, we discussed the possibility of heading out again when I come back in a couple of days. She said, “I probably can't, but my daughter can.” Sp, thdn Net day Iy gfyyr higtred... sorry, it's difficult to type with my inflated ego...

So, after a day in Niigata, where I jogged to a shrine, tagged it, and jogged back to the ship, we come back to Hakodate. Speaking with Yoshi, she gave me instructions on how to meet up with her daughter, Miyuki, in downtown Hakodate. This time, my tour guide and I found ourselves on the JR Rail (which is the Japanese equivalent of Amtrak), taking a quick twenty minute ride to the neighboring town of Onuma.

Tucked away from the 300,000 plus population of Hakodate, Onuma reminds me a little of the densely wooded Wisconsin, with a sprinkle of mountainous Northern Georgia. Once there, we rent bicycles and make our way around Lake Onuma, spotting things like a rabbit petting farm, and a school canoeing field trip.

Here is Miyuki, being attacked by hungry rabbits. Seriously, many of them get pissed when they nestle into your hand, only to find zero food... so they bite you. Looks like I'll be bringing home more than chopsticks and sake.

With only a few hours to spend before hopping back on the rails, we were unable to bike the entire lake, so we pedal back to town and wait for the train. Now, you can imagine that finding English in smaller towns could be a tall order, and Onuma is no exception. However, take a look at the map below (you'll need to blow it up). You'll find that everything on the map is written in Japanese... except for one important piece of information, which is scattered several times over the map.

See, sometimes it's not about what you see during your vacation, but how light your disposition is while seeing it.

So, that was my two days of Hakodate, all from the kindness of strangers. Oh, we come back once more in October, and there's a chance that I will be able to hang out with one or both of my new friends. If so, I'll be shown that squid is best enjoyed, and I am not kidding here, when it is still alive... I'll let that soak in a bit.

And that'll just about do it for Japan at the moment. In a couple of days we'll take a break from sake and enjoy some vodka in Vladivostok, Russia, followed by more Japanese ports and many first time visits for yours truly. As I finish this blog I can feel the distant rumble of our bow thrusters... we must be coming along side the dock. I think I'll take a peek out the windows of the Galaxy Lounge to see what Fushiki looks like, and what I'll be missing out on...

Whoop-dee-do.

Keep on Livin' The Dream,

Michael Lamendola
(Hanging out with my buddy Steve in Yokohama, who was taking a break from his gig over at Tokyo Disney)

Kon'nichiwa Asuka II Part Five - Dancing in The Streets

2010-08-18T19:05:00.000-07:00

At the moment I am sitting in the Galaxy Lounge... yesterday the Asuka II left Yokohama and we are now headed south towards a little place called Kumano. Officially it's a sea day, since we are only going there to drop anchor and watch some fireworks. Since the Asuka II is never in a hurry to get anywhere, our cruising speed is a steady eight to ten knots, which leads me to believe that we could have gotten there by now. Still, as with a good portion of the ports we've visited thus far, getting there doesn't necessarily mean anything. Take for example the port of Komatsujima...

Here is a picture of the port. Now, for those of you who have been paying attention, you know that a port's ability to entertain is based on a couple of key factors. First of all, how big is the parking lot that is directly attached to the dock? From what we've discovered in the past, the more cars the lot can hold, the less interesting the port is. Secondly, are there piles of things within a stone's throw of the ship?

Piles of wood... check. This also does not bode well for Komatsujima's enjoyment factor.

However, today I discovered a third factor that when combined with the other two form a holy trifecta of unfunness that can not be disputed.

When bulldozers and dump trucks are moving piles (that not only are a stone's throw from the ship, but are literally piles of thrown stones) from one place to another... well, you might as well stay on the ship. To really drive the point home, we had an overnight here. Fortunately, it wasn't a total loss, as that night I wandered off the ship and found my way to a engine department bonfire being thrown at a little secluded beach. Sure, it rained most of the time, but that didn't stop the bonfire's blaze, or one of Asuka's crew members from getting totally hammered and setting off fireworks with his bare hands... wait a second... am I back in Texas?

Now, all sarcasm aside, the real reason we had an overnight here wasn't for the piles of wood and rocks, which were awesome, but for a summer festival being thrown the next town over. The passengers had taken buses and taxis over to witness the parades, and some even get to take part (for a fee). All over Japan cities celebrate summer with parades and fireworks. It seems to start in late July, and as of this writing there are still cities which have yet to have their celebration, as with tonight's port. The production cast has been called upon twice to participate in the parades, but if you're picturing marching bands and floats sponsored by the local Japanese Kiwanis club, you're way, way off. Let's go back a bit and take a look at my first parade...

On August 6^th, we hit the port of Aomori. Let's take a look at the dock camera and see what kind of city we're dealing with here...

No parking lots or piles of anything next to the ship... this looks promising. So, at around four o'clock the cast is called to get into uniform for the parade. Following the other three guys in the cast, I make my way to the changing area, where I am dressed up in a kimono.

Here I am sporting my kimono. What you can't see here is that for the most part, a person can't put one of these suckers on by themselves. There are two “robes” for lack of a better term that one might be able to put on, but they are literally wrapped around you, and tied really, really tight to seal in freshness. Then there's the two sashes around the waist, again mostly there to restrict breathing, and one more tied around your shoulder blades and under your arms, so that you are unable to make your hands meet in front of your chest. The whole thing is very elaborate, and what we're wearing is still more the casual kimono compared to the evening wear I've seen worn around the ship (and those also require assistance to put on, and the Grand Spa on deck 12 is more than happy to assist in strapping you in, for the nominal fee of $80 to $128 dollars.

Anyway, once we've got our kimonos all set, we head out to join our float in the parade.

That's what I call a float. Yep, it's made from paper and wire, and it's all internally lit. So, the parade works like this... each “float section” consists of the following, from front to back:

Heading the pack is a bunch of drums rigged on a rolling platform, and with these drums are a bunch of dudes beatin' on them, with another dude blowing on some kind of flute.

Behind them are a whole mess of people, myself and the rest of the cast included. Our job is to jump in the air and chant “rah-sera, rah-sera, rah-sera-sera-sera!” over and over (and over and over and over and over). Supposedly, this means “happiness.” We are also wearing all these little jingle bells, the kind you see at Christmas time, and those are given out to the children in lieu of candy (if they only knew...). Behind us is our float, again on wheels, chasing after us. Plus, unlike the parades in America, anything on wheels is not pulled by horsepower, or horses for that matter, but by people.

So, we jump and chant for almost two hours. I lost count of how many blocks we made, but it was plenty... and plenty hot too. Even though the sun had set hours ago, it was still humid as hell, and the heat radiating from the concrete made our kimonos a tied up sweaty mess. Thankfully, we had all been given fans, and boy was I glad to have one.

The parade was still going strong when the Asuka II group was pulled out and corralled at a Japanese restaurant. I know, redundant to say, but this was the kind of Japanese restaurant where you take off your shoes and sit on the floor... yeah, that kind of Japanese restaurant.

For the record, I prefer chairs. So, with chopsticks full of tempura and sushi in one hand, and a glass full of sake in the other, I dined. We were promised a show during dinner and... um... wow. Let me just say this: everyone in the parade was wearing kimonos, largely of the same color scheme as what I had on. Nowhere did I see costumed characters and... men in drag. Wanna see for yourself? Check out the video of the entire night's experience below. You'll also see the following night where the parade was held again, this time without my help. However, this time the floats took to the water, floating around the harbor under a backdrop of fireworks.

So, that was one summer festival that I attended, but what about the port with all the piles of wood and rocks? Yep, we were there for a festival as well, but were not called upon until the second night. This time we wore officially branded Asuka II kimonos, which we were able to put on by ourselves. Then, we hopped onto a bus and rode into the neighboring town of Awaodori for the parade competition. That's right, this time our jumping and hollering is to be adjudicated by a panel of experts. Also, instead of jumping and hollering for hundreds of city blocks, the parade areas were clearly defined, and maybe two hundred yards each. The other difference was that this time the chant was more of a call response game, where “yato-sah yato-sah” was both the call, and the response. At the moment, I still have no idea what that means. Finally, there was no jumping involved, but a certain walk that everyone does, where you move forward with the same arm and leg.

So, we arrive at our first parade area, queue up, and do the thing... then we corral and walk to a second staging area. Do it one more time, then off to the hotel to get fed... this time sitting in chairs with our shoes on. For a look at our award winning choreography, check the video below.

Fireworks once again closed the night out... and let me take a moment to address the fireworks. In a nutshell: America's are better. Shocker, I know, but let me explain why. I had a schedule of the day's events, and it said that the fireworks will go from nine until ten at night. At nine on the nose, the fireworks start... for two minutes. Then a few minutes go by with nothing... then two or three minutes with fireworks... then a break... then fireworks... then a break. This goes on for exactly one hour, and at the end the last fireworks are shot off as ceremoniously as the first (read: NO GRAND FINALE) and at ten o'clock on the button the fireworks are concluded. The exact same thing has happened three times, and once the fireworks show went on for two hours, stopping and starting over and over. Of course, the fireworks were big and loud, but never did they light a fuse on a thousand at once, setting the sky on fire... nope. Oh, and sparklers? Hello??? Where's my damn sparkler?

So yeah, the summer festival season in Japan is somethin' else... but did anything else happen since the last time we spoke? Let's see...

Saw a shrine.

Saw a girl in a kimono shooting pool.

Realized that no matter how expensive the ticket, or how many stars the cruise line claims to have, a cruise ship is never, ever, above Bingo.

Found this hotel in Yokohama. I can only imagine how exotic they think the name sounds. Who knows, maybe they import Mexican zebras.

Ate sushi... again...

Ate a friggin' corn dog! Actually, I've had them on the ship several times... friends, the Japanese can make a damn good corn dog. Problem here is that I can never find any mustard. Still, I love me a mess of corn dogs! I mean, here I am in Japan, with Kobe beef and sushi grade tuna, and all I want is a corn dog... what could be more white trash than than?

Drinkin' a big damn tall boy of Kirin beer and smokin' a damn Marlboro by the water!

Spotted one of my coworkers during the Awaodori Festival, buying squid on a stick. Sadly, corn dogs were nowhere to be found.

As I finish this blog, I am sitting in a hotel in Yokohama. Outside it's a balmy ninety degrees, with enough humidity to make it feel like a bazillion. After this, I'll plan on getting some a bowl of cold udon noodle soup... but probably will end up getting another corn dog.

Keep on Livin' The Dream,

Michael Lamendola

(leading the parade in Awaodori)

Kon'nichiwa Asuka II Part Four - Shrines, Hula Dancers, and Rubber Chicken

2010-07-31T22:32:00.001-07:00

At the moment I am sitting in my cabin, good ol' 6278... I just finished lunch up in the Lido, and in a couple of hours we'll have the first of two Captain's Cocktail Parties, in which we will perform our mini-show, Classical Moments. Outside my porthole the ocean passes us by at eighteen knots as we head south to our home base, Yokohama. Sailing around Japan the past two weeks has been a welcome change from the world cruise, also known as the longest sea day ever, and while I've seen land more often in the past two weeks than I did in the first two months, caveats and conditions still apply.

To put it briefly: yes, I've been hanging out in Japan... and no, I really haven't done much worth mentioning. It's a little frustrating, but the bottom line here is while the ports we are visiting must be known for something, often times the reason we're there is lost on the crew. One could blame it on the lack of information given to us about the port, the general disinterest in anything but internet cafes, electronic stores, and shopping malls by the crew at large, or the simple fact that the points of interest each city has to offer are only accessible by tour bus (which is something else that is not available to the crew) or an expensive taxi ride.

Still, when I am able to get off the ship (yep, our friend Russia won one... more on that later), I try and make the most of it. There really aren't any fantastic stories to tell here, just a collection of pictures that hopefully walk the line between culturally aware and blissfully ignorant. So, enough words, let's make with the colorful pixels.

First stop, Miyako. Actually, the first stop was Kobe, but a drunk coworker of mine erased my pictures from that port, so we'll have to wait until September for that one... so, Miyako. As I recall, a lot of lumber yards in Texas seemed to prefer their names painted on the metal roof of their buildings. Such is the case with Miyako.

So it should seem as no coincidence that Miyako is a lumber port. All those stacks of wood and sawdust are pretty much next door to the expansive and welcoming parking lot that we docked along side. Actually, one thing most of our Japanese ports of call seem to have in common are their expansive and welcoming parking lots. So, Miyako is a city that is there because of its inhabitants, and not there because of tourism. I know this because as I walked around the city, I never once saw anybody from our ship gawking and taking pictures. That's okay, since I am easily gawkable... or is it gawked?

That's a bucket of octopus. Gawk away.

Miyako did send us off in style (or we sent Miyako away in style. I guess it depends on which side of the water you're on), with streamers and a bunch of kids beatin' on drums. Next stop, Onahama.

Onahama is a Japanese city that really digs Hawaii. The whole time we were in port, there was a constant rotation of hula dancers entertaining both our passengers and the city's residents. After watching for a few minutes, I decided to leave the immediate area and take a look at the surrounding city. After half an hour's worth of disappointment, I came back. Okay, enough culture... bring on the ignorance...

I tried to purchase a “fukupass,” but I was informed that I already held a lifetime membership.

Get too close to the hula dancers, and Tsang Tsung here is gonna take care of business. Also, it bears mentioning that kids with guns brings up another startling similarity Japan holds with Texas, adding to lumber yards and the whole “silent-head-nod-to-say-hello-or-to-acknowledge-one's-passing-presence” thing both cultures seem to enjoy.

After the hula dancers packed it away, we headed back to Yokohama to drop off and pick up. Yokohama is a large walking city with its own baseball team, China Town, and blistering heat. But even though we're sweating buckets, it's a welcome change from stacks of lumber and buckets of octopus. Here, I am happy to enjoy the normal things I would if I were in a similar sized city in America, like go out for lunch or find an internet cafe and surf the web.

Here is one of the entrances to China Town. Seems that a lot of Japanese cities have one of these, as do many American cities. My question is, why aren't there any Japan Towns? Is it simply because the phrase doesn't roll off the tongue so easily?

Since we are in China Town, I am unsure if this advertisement is for a musical or a meal. Yeah, I just went there.

Here is a very ornate shrine sitting in the middle of China Town. People walk up, toss some yen into a wooden chest, light some incense, and do some kneeling. Other than that, I know nothing.

Notice this man's fancy footwear... now let me explain what you can't see. When this couple passed me, there was no time to do a double take. The man with the summertime sandals was accompanied by another longer haired man, dressed in ladies clothes... but that's not the strange thing here. No, what was strange was that they were pushing a baby carriage with a rag doll sitting inside of it. Now, before some of you more culturally aware folks start to get upset, let me say that yes, I understand that some Japanese mourn the loss of a loved one by sitting a doll at the table while they eat, or in a seat if they are out to a show. But friends, these two dudes were getting confused stares by everyone around me. So, by proxy, they were nuts.

And now, my fondest memory of Yokohama. They have these stores scattered about Japan called "Don Quixote" of all things. In them you'll find pretty much everything manufactured ever crammed inside its four walls. Below is something that I found in the store, and is something I find truly captivating...

You can add easily amused to easily gawked. Let's move on to Otaru.

Nestled at the base of a string of mountains, Otaru would be just another Japanese city if it wasn't for the summer festival going on that day.

Just in front of the pier was a stage flanked on either side by hundreds of pink Japanese-style paper lanterns. Throughout the day different acts performed, and later a parade took over the streets. Below is a video that shows both...

Yep, most guys carrying the “floats” wore bathrobes and diapers. I couldn't tell you for sure what the floats represented, but my guess is that each one symbolized a neighborhood's local shrine. Speaking of which, I tracked down one of 'em.

Here I am sitting on the steps of a shrine nestled on a hill overlooking the city. I've seen several so far, and it appears that they are always open to the public to come in and enjoy some solitude. Other than that, I can't tell you a thing about it.

Well, look at that. I've often heard that American actors will lend themselves to advertisements overseas, since they have less chance of getting caught tarnishing their craft on things like tires. Hey, even Leo has bills to pay.

Next, Rishiri, where inclement weather kept us from making land... After that Abashiri, where I only had a couple of hours off in between rehearsals. Went for a jog, and done. Then we come to Korsakov, Russia.

Proving bad news comes in threes, today Russia made up for Petropavlovsk-Kamchatky, where it somehow found a way to keep the crew on the ship. Let me recap how this works, in case some of you missed the last blog. It's pretty simple, actually: passengers have a passport, and they are allowed in the country; crew have a passport and a seaman's book... that's two internationally identifiable forms of identification... and are not allowed to enter. Whatever Russia... I never wanted to be a part of your stupid club anyway.

Incidentally, the picture above shows a pretty useful way of displaying information to the crew. On the other ships I've worked, nobody was really sure when the crew could get off the ship. We would just approach the gangway and either be allowed off or sent away. Here, we know exactly when we can leave, what time we are expected back, and when a stuck-up country thinks it's too damn good for my time and money.

Coming down the home stretch is Hakodate. Again, the parking lot was welcoming and expansive... which I've discovered pretty much means the opposite for the neighboring city. After a jog along the waterfront, I came back to the ship, rehearsed a little, then took a taxi into town. The cast ended up at a Japanese buffet, where, as I noted in an earlier blog, is different from a Chinese buffet due to the lack of a pizza and nacho bar. Anyway, we were served a ton of sushi and ate very well. Most surprising about the meal, however, was the mineral water I drank.

You know it's mineral water when you can see the rocks sitting at the bottom. For the curious, it tasted just like regular old water.

That pretty much brings us to the present. Since I started this blog I got one Captain's Cocktail down, and one to go. The performing side of things... you know, the reason I'm here... is going well. We are just one show away from being totally open (the sixth show will be performed for the first time in a couple of weeks), and everything is humming along. I did have one performance, however, that was greatly different from the rest.

One of the guest entertainers that joined us recently is Makoto Ozone, who studied at the Berklee school of music and is well respected in Japan as a jazz pianist. He was rehearsing with his trio after one of our shows, and invited Jessica (female singer) and I up to jam with him, after which he asked if we would like to perform with him during his sets the following night. Now, Makoto travels with his own piano tuner (who literally took apart our grand and tuned it that night into the next day... something like twelve hours straight) and sound engineer; that should give you a little insight as to how serious, and seriously good this guy is. So, Jess and I sang in his sets; she the first, and I the second. Oh, and Makoto arranged it so we closed his show! Wow... what an experience. I'll leave the rest to the video below.

And that's pretty much ship life for you... one night you're in the crew bar playing Uno, and the next you're singing with a world class musician.

Speaking of ship life, the officer's mess is calling my name; it's been almost twenty-four hours since I've eaten rice, and my body is going into fits of withdrawal.

Keep on Livin' The Dream,

Michael Lamendola

(Hanging out with the Asuka II in Onahama)

Kon'nichiwa Asuka II Part Three - Around (Half) the World in Eighty... Fifty-Three Days

2010-07-16T06:55:00.000-07:00

In the past twenty-four hours I've watched in shock as some dude in the crew gym shucked his pants down to his ankles to admire his thighs in a mirror, caught a cook sparking up a cigarette in the galley, used cheap eye liner to paint dog noses onto a dozen housekeepers, hand painted an Indian warrior fern on the chest of some guy in cruise staff, and witnessed the captain get executed samurai style. Normally I would say that this is all just another day on board the illustrious Asuka II, but actually all those events helped me put a cap on a world cruise and begin my time in Japan.

At the moment I am sitting in the Galaxy Lounge, house left, admiring the view of Yokohama just outside the window... and admire is all I'll get to do today, as we won't be getting any shore leave due to crew immigration and the disembarking of passengers. Usually I would take this time to piss and moan about not getting to go ashore, but sailing west from Africa to Asia has taken all the fight out of me. At first glance, a world cruise sounds pretty exciting... sail the globe, stop in exotic places, and buy magnets with the exotic place's name on it. However, the following statistic keeps me from bragging about my unfortunate accomplishment: in a fifty-three day voyage I stepped foot on land a total of thirteen times. Yes, that includes the overnights (two days) in New York City and San Francisco. No, that does not include Panama, where I saw land an arm's reach away, but was unable to firmly grab hold. Thirteen days on land friends... the part that might be the most frustrating is that I had already been to most of the places we hit. Still, who among us can honestly say they dislike being beaten over the head with other people's vacation pictures and stories? Nobody? Good. Here are some highlights:

Here is my first glance, from my porthole, of our early morning sail-in into NYC. It's a bridge all right...

Made it on deck sometime around 6:15 that morning. The thick fog made for a very scenic entrance into America. At this point I had been on board ten days, with only one stop in Bermuda. So, as soon as the gangway hit terra firma, I beat feet to get off the ship. My day was spent catching up with my Buddy Steve, whom I worked with on a couple of Dream contracts, taking in La Cage Aux Folles, and generally doing anything but rehearsing or watching the ocean go by at eight to eighteen knots.

Hanging out with some old friends in The Big Apple. That's Michael (Dream 2005), Steve (Dream 2007, 2008) and Chris (a buddy from San Diego).

Now I'm in San Juan, Puerto Rico. I've overheard rumblings that this place will one day become our “Hawaii to the East,” so I did some preemptive celebrating by eating an American hotdog I bought using American cash, the island's official currency.

My day in St. John's. Yep, that's a beach all right.

Next stop was Curacao, where we only had two hours on land, and it rained the whole time... no pictures necessary.

Taking in the Panama Canal. Nothing special here if you've seen it already... enter a lock, it fills up, exit the lock. Do that a few times in a few different locations. But hey, we discovered a cure for malaria here, so that's good too.

Up next, Acapulco. Weather was hot, cerveza cold, and the cliff divers... Mexican.

You only screw up cliff diving once. Next stop was San Francisco, and what a stop it was. Met up with my buddy Matt, who used to live in San Diego, but now resides in San Jose. We met up for coffee, and he suggested that we drive inland to Sarratoga to watch Steve Martin play some bluegrass. Since I had already seen the bridge and ridden a trolley, I was down for a little something different. So, off we went to an outdoor amphitheater up in the mountains, built around an old monastery that has now become a white man's theme park (winery).

The view from the top.

Our seats were in the middle of the third row, and the show was amazing, especially if you like banjos and bluegrass. Steve is a very accomplished picker, and is well respected in the bluegrass community. Of course, he was hysterical in between songs; his comedy reminiscent of his early stand-up days. Oh, did I mention he was born in Waco? He played two sets with the Steep Mountain Boys, then encored with the following:

Awesome.

Next stop, Vancouver. Nothing special, just had lunch and walked around the city. On the way back to the ship, though, I snapped this picture. Little did I know the events that would follow.

In the foreground is a Holland America ship, the Statendam. Her engines weren't churning as I walked past her to board the Asuka II (shown in the picture sitting in pole position). We left around five o'clock in the afternoon, with three sea says separating us from Juneau, Alaska. During those sea days we spent a lot of time cruising the inside passage of Canada and Alaska, with the mainland and heavily wooded islands slowly passing by. Now, for those of you in the know, you realize that when going to Juneau from Vancouver or Seattle, you typically stop in Ketchican, another well-traveled Alaskan port. Well, we aren't typical on the Asuka II, and port days really get in the way of our sea days.

Here is Ketchican as we sail right by... wait a second... what the hell? Is that the Statendam? Oh, right. You see, I had been on the Asuka II for so long, that I had gotten used to our “we'll get there when we get there” attitude of sailing. Ketchican and Juneau are fairly close to each other, and if you had your own cruise ship, and you were on the bridge with your foot giving the gas pedal a suitable, but not crazy, amount of pressure, you could make it from Vancouver to Juneau, let alone Ketchican, in two days. The Statendam did... not us. So, we passed up Ketchican on day two of our three allotted sea days to get to Juneau, and after another sea day, and more inside passage, we arrive:

See that ship leaving the bay? Wanna take a wild guess who that is? Yep! The stupid damn Statendam. It had passed us the night after we passed it in Ketchican. Son of a bitch, that ship is really starting to piss me off, thinking it's so much better than us. Probably has one of those radar detectors on the bridge so it can speed right up to the point where a local-yokel is hiding behind a whale setting up a speed trap... stupid Statendam. Incidentally, that previous picture was taken on the gondola that takes you up Mt. Roberts. Anyway, Juneau was pretty good. I hadn't been to Alaska in five years, and while the rain kept me from doing any hiking, I was able to revisit one of my old haunts: The Viking.

Nothing says Alaska more than drinking a pint of Alaskan Amber and showing the boys from Romania how pool is played. Pictured above is Dorin (dancer), the afore mentioned boy from Romania, as he steers his partner Jessica (singer) to a perfect bank shot, as Tammy (guest entertainer type singer) looks on. And yes, I ran that table all day long.

Seward, Alaska followed after only two sea days. Thankfully, the stupid Statendam was somewhere else. Hell, it had probably already came and went. I had spent plenty of time here as well, but this time my plans of hiking were stopped by the annual running up and down the mountain race they hold there. The streets were filled with people, who were also celebrating the fourth of July. Didn't do much but Skype family, had some caribou stew, and soaked in my last day in America for the unforeseeable future. Oh, I did take one interesting picture. You may need to blow it up to get the full effect.

Unloading of sins is welcome... but unloading of bowels is not. Also, notice how the “t” in “bathroom” is made to look like a crucifix. Would Jesus really want you spelling bathroom with a crucifix? Just sayin', Seward Methodist Church... just sayin'. My independence day festivities kicked off with our premiere of Magical Dreams, and concluded with me making my own fireworks by sitting in my cabin and rubbing my fists against my eyes.

Then came more sea days, six of them... wait, five of them. You see, we had been going back so many hours as we traveled west that the Captain said “to hell with it, let's just skip a day.” So, we did. Went to sleep on a Tuesday, woke up on a Thursday. Now that's a first. After six... five sea days, we arrive in a port I can barely pronounce, let alone spell: Belize... wouldn't that be unbelizeable? No, we hit Petropavlovsk-Kamchatky, to which my spell check suggests Dnepropetrovsk-Kamchatky, which makes so much more sense. Anyway, we hit Russia. The night before we, the crew, were told not to expect shore leave because of some laws the city has set (made) up. I never quite understood why, but it had something to do with our seaman's books, of which ours are Japanese, and how that didn't count in their game of “enter the country.” The passengers, who do not have a seaman's book, are more than welcome to look around, which made the whole thing even more confusing. So, let me get this straight... one group of people only have passports, and they can enter your country. Another group of people have passports AND seaman's books, but they cannot... what the hell, Petropavlovsk-Kamchatky?

Anyway, like most things on ships, everything gets sorted out last minute, and before long I was breathing the sweet, post communist air of Petropavlovsk-Kamchatky (got that sucker on copy and paste). So, what does one do when in the former USSR?

Go to a carnival and eat ice cream.

Three more sea days and here we are, sitting outside Yokohama. Now that I finish this blog, I expect some of the passengers who had made the hundred plus day voyage have gotten off the ship (the rest are getting off tomorrow in Kobe), making room for double the amount of passengers who are about to embark on a quick cruise from Kobe back to Yokohama. As for me, tonight we open our third show, Amor. Oh! The shows! Yeah, after tonight we're three down and two-ish to go (one is a half show that from what I gather doesn't get performed a lot). So far we've opened the magic show, Magical Dreams, and the musical revue, Musicals Forever. Each show had a modest attendance, but nothing like the End-of-The-World-Cruise-Crew-Show-Extravaganza that was put on last night.

Here are many, if not all, of the house keeping girls, reenacting a couple of scenes from 101 Dalmatians. Earlier that evening I sat in the girl's dressing room, and with eyeliner pencil firmly in hand, made dog noses and spots on about a dozen of them. Funny thing, and I don't remember this in the movie, but at the end of their version, Cruella Deville and the other, evil monocle guy, drink poison and die, to which the dogs say “Hooray! They're dead!” Must have missed that part.

The crew talent show ended with the captain doing a six act (no kidding) samurai style (no kidding) play about how he became a captain, and how he must pass the torch to a new captain. The play ended with the captain getting stabbed through the chest with a samurai sword (no kidding), while another guy sprays red paint all over the wall behind him (no kidding). The pax in attendance, who like always, and on every ship I've been on, outnumbered the attendance of any production show done up to that point, loved the mock-death of our Captain, which is surprising since I've already witnessed them sleeping in the front row during our shows (which is something else that doesn't change from ship to ship. Show time equals nap time).

And that's going to do it for now. As a reward for another successful opening, tomorrow we get an overnight in Kobe. Hopefully that'll be when the culture shock starts.

Keep on Livin' The Dream,

Michael Lamendola

(With Dorin, Costa, and Joe, the men of Asuka II's Production Cast, after a successful opening of Magical Dreams)

P.s.

About a month ago I found some time to do a little singing outside of rehearsals. Kris, our lounge pianist, did a set of classical music one night, and I was a special guest (always wanted to be a special guest), singing “You Raise Me Up,” and “What Are You Doing The Rest of Your Life.” The latter is right below.

Kon'nichiwa Asuka II Part Two - The Pros and Cons of Bathing

2010-06-23T11:37:00.000-07:00

At the moment I am sitting in my room, cabin number 6278, forward of the Galaxy Lounge as the Asuka II chugs her way to San Francisco. We've come up the east coast by way of the Panama Canal, marking the third time I have sailed through one of the modern wonders of the world. Since then we've made a stop in Acapulco, and other than that it's been nothing but sea days around here, which is the main reason I haven't written anything in a few weeks. Literally, in the thirty day month of June, I will have made port seven times (eight if you count the canal, but I don't, since I was only able to gawk at land in wonder).

Still, that doesn't mean my days have been consumed with consuming sake and desserts made from beans by the pool... no sir. Actually, if I am not sleeping or eating, you can pretty much bet that I am rehearsing, or planning for the next rehearsal. As a matter of fact, things have gotten so routine so quickly, I barely have much to say at the moment. That will all change once we switch over to performance mode in July, but for now it's rehearse-two-three-four and sleep-six-seven-eight. With that in mind, I figure I'll just tell y'all a little bit more about my floating home away from home.

Like I mentioned earlier, the Asuka II is a little longer than the Dream, but carries far fewer passengers. One of the main things I've noticed, especially during this world cruise where we only have five hundred something pax, is the vast amount of extra space this vessel has. It's almost like she's showing off. One thing most ships have in common are their economical use of space. Usually, in order to get from one public area to another, you walk through other places of interest; like on the Dream, to get from the theatre to the shops, you walk through the casino, the disco, and a bar to get there. Here, on the other hand, most areas are situated on the inside portion of a deck, with separate walled hallways on the outside. Stunning information, I know. Then there are the elevator corridors.

Here is a picture I took standing with my back to the elevators. While I haven't been on this ship for long, I can guarantee that no more than five people have ever waited on an elevator in the same place, ever. Hell, I barely see five people in any bar or public area around here. Still, it's like the ship is expecting the pax to sit down on the floor and play Candy Land or something... or Mouse Trap. But who really played Mouse Trap?

Anyway, without boring you with details of stairways and corridors, let's look at where I eat lunch most days.

This is the view from the Lido deck, coincidentally located just outside the Lido Cafe. For those taking notes, this is the Asuka II's equivalent of the Dream's Sports Bar. When the weather's nice, we take our trays outside. Since we (the cast) are limited to the last half hour of lunch, we have never seen a crowd out here, and many days have the place to ourselves. I'm saving food talk for another blog, but I have two words for you: Spaghetti Hotdogs... and yes, it's exactly what you're thinking.

Okay, let's take a look at my office.

Here's the Galaxy Lounge. The picture was taken from the back of the house, but it stretches back a few rows more on either side (the booth is in the middle). Nope, it's not very big. For comparison, here's my office on the Dream:

If any of you have worked on the Norwegian Majesty, then the Galaxy may look very familiar, with the only difference here being the taller (but not by much) ceiling. Like many other cruise ship theatres and lounges, the space behind the proscenium is reserved for the band (seven pieces with two saxophones). On either side of the stage are the dressing rooms, and holy cow are they big. Here's a picture of the ladies' dressing room (the men's dressing room, for some reason, has cardboard totem polls sitting in there, with cartoon characters painted on them, to celebrate America's Independence... really).

That's for six girls, and are mirror spaces enough for all. The men's is slightly smaller, but is only used by four of us. Four guys. It's like the freakin' Taj Majal.

Best of all, however, is the commute from home to the office. Take a look for yourself:

Of course, my home away from home wouldn't be complete without a place to lay my head.

Here is my cabin from the bed looking towards the door. Just a little less wide and deep than mine on the Dream.

And here it is from the doorway. Notice the very oddly placed mirror. I still piss myself some mornings as I wake up and find someone staring right back at me. Now I guess I know what some people have experienced, and you all have my most sincerest apologies. Anyway, it may not be the size of most people's bedrooms on land, or even some of your closets for that matter, but for one person it does the job pretty well. There's a bed (with storage for both of my suitcases underneath), a porthole (a luxury for most crew members, and something I have been lucky to have on every contract), a television, DVD player, small refrigerator, and a bathroom... and that's where the fun stops.

This is my shower, and I defy even the smallest person on this ship to use it and say “wow! That was a great showering experience!” Take a look at the picture below, taken from exactly where I would stand while attempting to bathe, as I explain why this is the most awful shower ever put together by modern scientific minds. First, examine the pipes that come out of the wall with the hot and cold knobs on them.

They stick out a good seven or so inches from the wall, and in a bathroom that's not known for its spaciousness, that's an issue. Also, since half of the plumbing deals with hot water, you don't want to touch it... good luck with that. It even has a little sign on the hot pipe, telling me not to touch the stupid thing, although it's hard to see it when it's burrowed into my side. Over to the left of the controls is the “oh shit” handle for rough seas, and it's pretty proud of itself too. Then to the right and back, when it's drawn, is the curtain, which like all others I have used, wants to wrap itself around you while you attempt to shower, as if it's missed the sweet hell out of you since the last time you bathed.

So, let's add all that together: molten lava pipes digging into my stomach, plus another pipe nestling into my ribs, plus an amorous shower curtain sticking to my back... but wait, I haven't mentioned the shower head yet.

This damn thing has a brain, I swear, and it's sole purpose in life is to shoot water wherever I am not... really. You see, the hose that runs to the head is never in a good place (for the hose, that is) and so it steers the shower head left and right... and since I am standing in a shower the size of a postage stamp, this creates a problem. But wait! If you look at the picture, you'll notice I have yet another pipe that the shower head is fixed too, which allows a surprisingly full range of motion given the clown car sized restraints of the showering area. I can move the head up and down, and from left to right! Great! Funny thing, though... you see, by nature the shower head likes to shoot the water to my left when it's hoovering above me. So, when I try to compensate by shifting the thing that holds the head to the right, the hose senses something is amiss and tells the head to shoot the water more to the left! GENIUS!

But wait a second... I have a masters degree in musical theatre... certainly I can think of a way to outwit my diabolical shower... and I did. When I take a shower, I start by lowering the shower head to my chest, and point it so that it's shooting water directly at me. The hose doesn't know how to react to such an unorthodox method of bathing, so the head stays in position as I scrub everything from the neck down. Now for the hair: I raise the head back up above me and point the water down. With one hand holding the head in place I wet my hair down, shifting the shower head to the left when I am done. With the water now shooting all over the corner of the shower, I lather my hair. Once finished I bring the shower head back over my hair, and holding it in place with one hand scrub the shampoo out with the other. Once I am done, I throw the shower head back into the corner and turn the water off.

It's a calculated method to be sure, but that still doesn't solve the pipes and curtain situation... but I figured that one out, too. You see, the whole reason the pipes were digging into me in the first place is because I had a lovesick shower curtain molesting me from behind, and my body's natural reaction to that is to cringe forward... into the pipes. Divorce the shower curtain and problem solved. So, I shower with the curtain open. Yes, I have taken everything I know about a shower and turned it on its head. That's the kind of forward, progressive thinking only a higher degree in song and dance can get you friends. That kind of thinking also gets you a wet bathroom, although it wouldn't be so bad if there wasn't an unplugged hole at the base of my shower that allows water to flow into the rest of the bathroom... I'm still trying to solve that riddle; might need a PhD for that.

The cruel irony of it all is that six decks up and all the way aft on the Asuka II is the Grand Spa, which is basically a Japanese bathing water park. Before I came here, I picked up a little side job correcting grammar and punctuation for a Japanese travel site. One of the things that was mentioned many times was something called an “onsen.” I figured out that the Japanese have a thing for bathing, and they have bathing pools all over the place. Some are inside, some outside (like in all those kooky Cialus commercials), and they can be public or private. Well, the Grand Spa is our own little onsen on the Asuka II, and I get to use the sucker from 11pm to midnight.

Here's the men's changing room. Before you come in here, you take your shoes off and put them into a cloth bag. After picking out a locker, you shuck off your clothes (yep, all of them... bathing suits are considered unsanitary) and grab a couple of towels. Oh, and everything you're about to see is only for men. I am assuming it's identical for the women. Now, into the onsen.

This is where all the bathing happens. In here are two jacuzzis, a warm water pool, steam room, sauna, and a cold bath. Everything faces towards all the windows, and since we're on deck 12, the view must be pretty outstanding. Of course, since I am only allowed in at night, all I see is black. Then there's all the showers.

This is one of about twenty something showers, situated in two rows just behind where the first picture of the onsen was taken. Just so we're all clear: these showers were made by people with far greater intelligence than the Lego Academy of Brick Stacking dropouts that constructed the thing I have to use. But, showering here has its quirks too. First of all, you see that bucket? That's what you sit on while you shower. At first it's a pretty strange experience, but after a couple of times it grows on you (although, thankfully, not in the literal sense). Once seated, you take a shower... grab the shower head and hose yourself down, then put it back into its holster as you select from various soaps and shampoos. Grab the shower head again, rinse off, and done. The only peculiar thing is, once you get over bathing on a bucket, is the separators that... well, separate you from the other shower stalls, are made of clear plastic. It's never been a big deal since I am there so late, but if it's busy, and there are a lot of dudes poppin' a squat and bathing... all lined up... right...

Anyway, so you have to shower before you get into one of the pools, and then again afterward. Kosta (male adage) and I go about twice a week. We'll shower, sauna, shower, jacuzzi, then cold bath. Notice I didn't mention a shower in between those last two. Holy cow... cold bath. It's all I can do to even stick my toe in that thing. Obvious reasons aside, dunking your body into the cold bath is the closest you'll come to having a religious experience without having to drink pee or juggle snakes.

Before I get out of the jacuzzi, I get my mind all set for the torture I am about to willingly subject my body through. Once out of the hot water, I shuffle over to the cold pool and sit down, gritting my teeth and grunting as I quickly lose most of the feeling in my extremities. I am not kidding... I could be on fire and I would think twice before getting in this thing. After about twenty seconds the initial shock wears off and I relax into it. After a minute a strange, smokey menthol feeling floats up from my lungs and into my throat... that must be the hypothermia setting in. I lean into it for another minute. “People pay money for this!” I say to myself over and over as the black drapes of my own personal coma comfort me. Finally, after the second minute I pull myself out of my catatonic state, lift my body out of the cold bath, shower off, and go for another lap. After that, it's back into the changing room, fix myself up in the primping area, clothes back on, and done.

The whole experience leaves my body feeling more relaxed than any massage I have ever had. Since my onsen buddy is Russian, usually the whole detoxing experience is followed by a retoxing with a beer or two on deck... we're still crew on a cruise ship after all.

Well, it's nearly lunch time now, and the Lido is calling my name. Next time we speak I'll tell you a little more about what the social atmosphere is like on board a Japanese cruise ship, and a little less about my bathing habits.

Keep on Livin' the Dream,

Michael Lamendola

(Hanging out with Kris, our piano player, after a recital of his that I sang in. More on that later)

P.s.

The bow tie is real, and I am down to only five minutes and three strings of expletives, of which I am very proud.

Kon'nichiwa Asuka II Part One - 乗船

2010-05-31T08:04:00.000-07:00

I have been traveling for twenty-three hours, and it didn’t take my body much coaxing to get slack jawed and slumped over, despite sitting in a non-reclining seat with no leg room. Suddenly a light haze seeps through my eye lids; opening up one eye I notice my seat mate had reached over and opened the window to watch us not move on the tarmac. Since I had been traveling for twenty-three hours and two minutes, this person’s needs are far outweighed by my own. In a fluid motion I slap the shade down and fall back to an open-mouthed sleep. My dreams are vivid, but a voice keeps cutting into them.

“Abierta la ventana! Por favor! Abierta la ventana!”

I pretend not to hear him, as he pretends not to notice that I am feigning being asleep. Fortunately, I also pretend not to understand Spanish. Screw him; I have been traveling for twenty-three hours and three minutes… but I am getting a little ahead of myself.

At the moment I am sitting in the Galaxy Lounge, deck 6 forward, somewhere between Tenerife and Bermuda, on board the beautiful and illustrious Asuka II.

Wait a second… what the hell? Asuka II? Don’t all these blogs take place in and around the beautiful and illustrious (and smelly) Norwegian Dream?

Usually, yes. Unfortunately, as many of you may recall, our Dream was sent out to pasture in November of 2008, destined to become a gambling vessel doing two and three day boozers out of China. So, as the sun set on the Dream’s service to NCL, so did my other life as a company singer. Since I had been deemed Dr. Dream by the brains of Jean Ann Ryan’s operation, once the Dream went out of service I became affectionately known as “Johnny-never-heard-of-ya.” After five years and five contracts sweating over a hot microphone, I had landed right back where I started… time to beat pavement.

So I auditioned for Carnival, got to round two, and was asked to sing “Somewhere over the Rainbow,” but, and I quote, “make it funky.”

Strike one.

Next, I audition for Princess, got to round three, and was asked to dance.

Strike two.

Stiletto came shortly after. “The Showroom at Sea” is their new concept, and right up my alley. Imagine a track where you sing golden era show tunes, jazz, and classical music. With my trained voice and affection for standards, this was a no brainer. Make it to round three, and dance. “We’ll call you soon!” they say.

Strike three.

Next up is Poet Theatricals. Email them links to my website’s audition page, and they send over some stuff to video and sing back. So, with camera and boom box in hand, I head over to the Casa del Prado at Balboa Park. After stealing into an unlocked dance studio and setting everything up, I begin to sing, only to be kicked out by the janitor. So, with my tax dollars dashed and nowhere else to go, I tape the audition in my living room… classy. E mailed it in, and am still waiting to hear back.

Strike… four?

Then came the audition for Choreography by Gail, a short drive from San Diego to Las Vegas. One tank of gas later and I am singing for Gail in a tiny dance studio that was converted from a living room in the company’s town home. After two songs, Gail and Gene, the musical director, look at each other. “What else ya got?” they ask. Round two, I sing more of what I got. The next day I drive over to a dance studio (not in a living room), and do some grape vines and catch steps. Round three. Soon I had a grip of CDs and sheet music.

Score one for the home team.

This was back in early April. Jump ahead to May twenty-third. Leaving Boston with my two “better be close to forty-five pounds each” monoliths of suitcases, I board a plane for Frankfurt. Sometime later I arrive, and with a little over an hour to spare, I stomp feet through passport security, out of the terminal building, following my nose to another terminal, through security, and to my connecting flight. Now I double back to Madrid. Same deal here: go through passport security, leave the terminal, figure out that my next flight is in another terminal that can only be reached by bus. Hop on the bus, go to that terminal, go through security, and discover in butt-puckering panic that my stupid belt and shoes make it through the metal detector, but not my backpack that has my laptop and PASSPORT inside.

“Donde esta mi… green backpack?” Spanish is spit back at me, but they don’t realize that what little Spanish I know can only be given out, not taken in. Finally, I figure out how to say “where is my green purse?” and they shrug their shoulders and point around to other metal detectors, like I somehow found myself in a different line than the one I put my stuff in. About the time my pounding heart made it difficult for my bladder to retain fluid, my green purse and laptop slide down the conveyor belt. Having peed in a brand new pair of underwear, I snatch my laptop and purse and walk away, still unsure of how the five people behind me got their things before I did. Screw you Madrid International Airport... wait a second... MIA? Guess that explains that.

Fortunately, I had four hours to calm down, so I paced around the terminal and waited for the chaffing and breeze to dry my pants. Finally, I board the plane bound for Tenerife, a small Spanish island off the coast of Africa. From there I find my suitcases (thank God) and get in a taxi. After, my taxi driver drove me to the seamen’s passport center, saying the guy with the stamp was his brother. Smiling, he takes my passport and walks in, yelling familiarities to the guy behind the counter. He motions to me with his thumb, slides the passport over, and it gets stamped. I am sure the passport feels a little tawdry, having been stamped three times in twenty-four hours, not to mention entering and exiting Spain in the course of five. My spinning head comes to a complete stop after one final quick drive to the afore mentioned Asuka II.

Okay, enough back story; on to the nitty-gritty. The Asuka II (pronounced Ask-a, like when Guido says to Guiseppe “Eh! Guiseppe, I gotta ask-a you a question!”) was originally christened as the Crystal Harmony back in 1990, where she sailed for sixteen years, after which she was given back to Crystal’s parent company, NYK, a huge Japanese shipping conglomerate that keeps a cruise ship around… you know, just for fun. Replacing the Asuka in 2007, the Crystal Harmony became the Asuka II.

I imagine that if you’ve read this far, you have probably enjoyed my other blogs, and are wondering what the similarities are to our dear departed Dream. (For the rest of you that made it to this point by accident, there probably won’t be any pictures, but there is a link to a video at the bottom of the page). Okay, so:

The Asuka II is longer than the Dream (Dream is 623 feet, and the Asuka II is 790) and is almost exactly the same width. While still a small ship by today's standards, she's the biggest ship I have worked on... by a hundred feet.

The Asuka II is a six-star liner, and is considered the crown jewel of all the Japanese cruise ships sailing today. Sorry Dream…

Even though her home port is Yokohama, there is still a varied mix of crew serving on board. As usual, the Filipinos run the joint, but there are a good many officers that are Asian as well. Eastern Europe also makes a strong showing. The production cast is typically international, with England, America, Japan, Russia and Spain being represented. On an interesting note, the cruise director is Hawaiian, and from what I have been told, only speaks some Japanese.

Speaking of which, the passengers on board are Japanese, and from what I can gather, only speak Japanese.

Are you Japanese? Want to join me on the Asuka II? Bring your checkbook. If you were to stay in a mid-range cabin (and only 20 something of the 460 something cabins are interior), you would spend somewhere between $1,500 and $2,000 a day. At the moment, we are in the middle of a hundred day world cruise… which runs in the ballpark of $250,000 dollars… two hundred… and fifty… tha-OUS-and dollars. Perhaps these passengers haven’t heard of one of those quaint “stay-cations” our local city tourism boards have cooked up.

Both the Dream and the Asuka II have a Bistro and Four Seasons... strange.

Most interesting, the Dream holds 1,700 passengers (on paper… remember those 2,000+ passengers in Bermuda?); the Asuka II, while bigger, holds a little over 800. While the Dream employed a little over 900 crew, the Asuka II cuts that in half, and then some. At the moment, we are just a smidge off being officially one to one with the pax.

Then there’s the food… I’ll be getting into the particulars of my can and cannot’s in other blogs, but I have access to the officer’s mess, as well as the buffet during the last thirty minutes of breakfast and lunch. I am sort of at a loss at how to make comparisons here, but I can safely say that the officer’s mess on board the Silver Cloud was amazing, and hard to beat. This mess, however, is nice on its own, and has a good enough selection of food. Some of the more memorable things I’ve eaten are a shish-ka-bob with yellow peppers, mussels, and a cocktail weenie; a clear sea weed salad; miso soup; pork dumplings; rice; rice; rice; rice; rice... and rice in miso soup.

Today, on the other hand, I had lunch on the Lido deck during our allotted half hour. Typically it’s a regular buffet, with some Japanese stuff mixed in with other typical food like baked chicken and shrimp scampi (conspicuously missing from the buffet was pizza and a nacho bar. Oh, wait a second... that's a Chinese buffet). Today, however, the buffet served hard core, bad ass Japanese food. I sanitized my hands, got my tray, and soon had six bowls, some with lids so as to not give away the surprise until I sat down. Let me see what I can remember: one bowl had some cucumber and a fruit paste; one had some squishy fishy cold salad type thing; under lid number one was two whole chunks of shiny silver skinned fish meat; under lid number two was some sort of foamy potato head floating over miso soup that contained rice, fish chunks, and horseradish. It also tasted like fish.

However, there is one dish I have eaten that I wish I had my camera for. If I cannot make it to the officer's mess or the Lido deck for the buffet, then I head up to the Grille, something that is akin to the Dream's Pizzeria, only it's located inside, is clean, the food is not greasy, and nowhere will you find topless hairy pax mashing their grimy paws into all the food. When you go to the Grille, you are given three options to choose from, all of which are made to order. On this particular day one of the selections was listed as something I can not spell here. Asking what it was, I am told it is commonly known as “Japanese pizza.” I order one and sit down. A few minutes later my culture shock on a plate arrives.

Let's start from the bottom and work our way up. The crust of the pizza was made up of some kind of egg and potato thing, with fish chunks thrown in for good measure. Note that this is not crust. On top of that was the sauce, which was some kind of brown fish paste. Note that this is not tomato sauce. Now for the topping... I want you to picture in your head how sea weed looks on the ocean floor; how it moves with the ebb and flow of the tide above. Now extend your hand out in front of you, palm facing upward. Squeeze your fingers back and forth in an upward groping motion without closing your fist. That, friends, is what the mess of dry fish skin shavings are doing on top of the fishy paste. The damn thing acts like a turtle on its back; all of these little gray fish pubes springing and moving on their own. The best thing about this is that they continue to do so until the very last bite, writhing as they wait to slide down your gullet. Aside from that, Japanese pizza, like most things I have eaten here so far, taste fishy.

The fruit on the ship, thankfully, is juicy, plentiful, and does not taste like fish... yet.

But the food isn't the only thing on board that's interesting; let's talk for a moment about the itinerary. Like I mentioned earlier, I am en route to Bermuda, in the middle of a world cruise. After Bermuda we hit the Big Apple, then down the East coast to the Eastern Caribbean, through the Panama Canal, up the West coast to Alaska, making land in Seward to celebrate America's Independence. From there, we hop over to tag Russia, then south to Japan by mid July. After that we just cruise around the rock, hitting all kinds of ports. Yokohama is considered home base, and we stop there quite often. There are far too many ports of call to list here, and many I have never heard of. Still, if you scroll up the page, towards the top you'll see a little list of the places I am visiting. Also note that as I get further into the summer, the sea days all but vanish completely. September, for example, only has four sea days. For those who don't know, that is far from typical. More than a handful of overnights will also be enjoyed.

Of course, the food and travel is not why I am here. I won't bore you with the details, but at the moment I am in week one of a six week rehearsal period. There are a total of six new sign-ons, including myself, who are joining four others to make up a ten person cast of eight dancers and two singers. Doubling the shows I performed on the Dream, we are in the process of learning six productions. I'll go into detail later, but in the batch are a musical revue, a love song revue, another whose through line is different country's music and dance, a ballroom show, a half show with classical style music, and a magic show. The six of us are working with Gail and her assistant, while the other four cast members are away on vacation until late June. Then we plug in, and by mid July we'll be up and running.

There's tons more to go into, but since I have been a little too busy to haul my camera around, I am going to leave it at that for now. Still, there is one nugget I can throw at you. Below is a link to a page that contains a promotional video for the Asuka II. Yep, it's in Japanese, but it gives a nice overview of the ship. Next time, I'll go into further detail about my cabin, the office, and what it's like to socialize with a bunch of people you can't understand.

Oh, and here's the video I was telling y'all about:

Keep on livin' the Dream,

Michael Lamendola (At an internet cafe in Bermuda, after seven solid days at sea, with Costa, half of our adage team)

P.s.

Want to know when I post a new blog? Send me an Email!

Michael@MichaelLamendola.net

CRUISE SHIP BLOG DIRECTORY

2008-11-13T14:02:00.001-08:00

Kon'nichiwa Asuka II Part Thirteen - A Fifty Mile Radius

Kon'nichiwa Asuka II Part Fourteen - Fondling Marsupials

Kon'nichiwa Asuka II Part Fifteen - Engrish

Kon'nichiwa Asuka II Part Sixteen - Oishi! (The Food Blog)

Kon'nichiwa Asuka II Part Seventeen - Oh The Places You'll Go!