Shibuya Crossing

Waiting to cross, I see my mark. I’m thrilled I have the option to cross diagonally. I don't have to cross the intersection twice, how efficient I gleam to myself. I wait eagerly. The funny thing about Tokyo is despite its size, there is order. Rules are for the most part strictly adhered to. If the light says do not cross, people wait, even when there are no cars coming. So we stand and wait. A large crowd quickly amasses.

The light turns green, the white outline of a person is illuminated, the sound of chirping birds serenades sweetly, a cue for the blind. I step forth onto the cross walk pushing Ohm in his stroller. All is well. I’m making my way along the diagonal strip thinking to myself how handy one of these would be in New York.

Suddenly there is a whiz on my right and then a whoosh on my left. I'm caught off-guard as bicycles barrel through the foot traffic, pedestrians scurry and push. Caught in a frenzy, I'm disoriented in a sea of people. I can no longer see my diagonal cross walk path. I can no longer see the building I am trying to walk towards. People jostle each other about. Legs and bags bump into Ohm’s stroller. Ohm looks up at me . His enormous brown eyes form question marks. His little knuckles bulge from the tight fists he's formed as he grasps his seat for dear life. I'm dizzy. I'm being pushed along by the momentum of the crowd. I have no idea what direction I'm being moved towards.  I thought I was accustomed to crowds, I'm a New Yorker.

The light begins to flash. People sprint and thrash banging into each other, into cyclists and into me.  Racing towards a curb, any curb, I make it just in time. The cross walk once again belongs to the motorists. The morning traffic hums into action. The curbs emerge again, serene, as if nothing has happened. As if hundreds of people hadn’t stampeded seconds ago.

Shibuya crossing is one of the busiest intersections in the world.

It is quite the experience, but it's not for the meek. My advice: know your mark, run-walk, keep your eye out for cyclists who cross aggressively with pedestrians and don’t push a stroller!

I was able to capture the madness from my hotel window in this video.

[youtube]http://youtu.be/IcaA-Ai2cVk[/youtube]

Shibuya Crossing at night. I don't even know where to begin!

[youtube]http://youtu.be/Pi31TWkcAPk[/youtube]

What is the busiest cross walk or area  you’ve encountered on your travels?

New Giveaway

Good Morning Readers, As I type this post, my bangles, three in total, wooden and carved,  prized purchases from a bazaar in Zanzibar tap against my keyboard.

I have just finished packaging the little Mayan Sorrow Doll to send off to the winner of my first giveaway.

Now I have another.

I purchased some beautiful origami geisha bookmarks in Japan to share with two of my loyal readers. To enter to win  post a response to this question: What is your most prized souvenir from your travels?

Winners will be chosen next week. Thanks for tuning in.

Happy Trails,

Sojourner

Akihabara: Electric City

Imagine for a moment, the hustle and bustle of New York’s Time Square. The seemingly endless wall-to-wall parade of people, the constant flash of bright neon lights. Feel the energy, the constant go..go…go…

Now multiply the frenzy, the clamor and the flash by ten and you will have Tokyo’s Akihabara, also known as Electric City.

“This place is like New York on crack!” – Mark Williams aka "The Hubby" on Akihabara

If Electric is what you want, electric is what you will get. Everything glows, everything flashes. The noise is loud and intense. People scurry and crowd.

Akihabara has earned fame as the place to go to purchase the latest and most innovative electronics in the world. If you can dream it, you can probably find it here.

This is also the place for cheap (albeit somewhat tacky) souvenirs. Whatever your motivation, whatever your pleasure, Akihabara hosts some of the most intense window shopping and people watching in Tokyo.

Elbows out, chin-up, forge forth!

Tokyo's Tsukiji Fish Market

It’s best to go early. It’s wise to be fully caffeinated and alert. Do not, as we learned the hard way wear flip-flops. Come to accept the fact that your olfactory nerves will be wildly over-stimulated. Have an open mind. Prepare to be over-stimulated and dazzled.

If you’re a lover of flavors, texture, colors, culture and local goods, Tokyo’s Tsukiji Fish Market will be a unique and charming delight. The largest of its kind in the world, a trip to the market is a full event.

Simply stated, Tsukiji is a fish market; fisherman catch a mind boggling variety of fish and sea creatures and then they sell them.

Walking up and down the congested aisles, dodging men on mopeds, bicycles, trucks and rolling flats, I saw the most astonishing variety of fish and sea creatures. Some were dead, some were alive, and some were being butchered. Some I recognized, others looked like beasts from science fiction movies. I’d never seen so many tentacles. My senses were in overdrive. There was yelling and bargaining, there was blood and guts; around every turn a bike raced this way, a truck backed up that way.  The concrete floor is coated in a thick layer of fish-gut-goo. One must concentrate hard not to wipe out. The fish market, which seems to extend for miles, is an aquatic zoo of organized chaos. I use the term organized lightly.

[youtube]http://youtu.be/NeRzOBXdJV4[/youtube]

The fish market proper doesn’t open to the public until 9am (there is an auction at 5 for businesses). It’s best to arrive early because it gets congested quickly. Having arrived around 7:30, we strolled the central market before entering the fish market. There is a large and vibrant central market right outside of the fish market gates where you can find everything from fresh produce, cosmetic grade rice paper, sake and calculators.

As is the case with most central markets, the restaurants and food stalls within its confines are delectable. Lines rolled down the street and around corners for some of the sushi establishments. We stepped into one sushi bar and enjoyed some of the best tuna rolls I’ve ever tasted. The tuna was warm and soft, and tasted of the ocean. It was the fresh catch from earlier in the morning. We noticed some of the prawns, at the sushi counter were still alive. Check out this video.

[youtube]http://youtu.be/efmbeCgqJAo[/youtube]

The Tsukiji Fish Market and the surrounding central market and food stalls are a must if you visit Tokyo, but there are some rules:

Land of the Rising Sun

The mattress is thin, very firm. Lying awake, I imagine the filling is a sea of buckwheat. The support is amazing. The stage has been set for a perfect night’s rest. Only it is not perfect. At home in New York it is three in the afternoon. My mind and my body are not in sync. Ohm, also awake, crawls over my lifeless limbs, giggling and squealing with delight. Despite the darkness, he is ready to play.

“Go to sleep.” I croak. My voice is horse. I’ve been awake now for 36 hours.

He takes a series of enthusiastic laps around the bed then collapses, head to one side. He’s quiet.

Satisfied I roll over preparing for attempt number 25 of sleep for the night, but something goes terribly wrong. A bright ball of hazy white begins to flood in through the parted curtains. I sit bolt-up, thinking perhaps in my delirium that we have come under nuclear attack.

I look at the glowing red numbers to my left. The alarm clock confirms that its 4:15 am.

“Mark!” I shake the still lump that is my husband. My hand is swatted away.

“Mark. M-a-r-k! Something’s wrong. Look.” I point accusingly towards the window. The white glow grows increasingly intense. The baby is on all fours again. We are all squinting in the direction of the window now, writhing beneath the supernaturally bright glow.

“What’s happening?”

Mark gets up. He staggers towards the window to close the curtains.

“The sun.” He grumbles.

“At four in the morning?” I do a double take at the alarm clock.

“This is the east, land of the rising sun.”

Mayan Sorrow Dolls

Mayan Sorrow Dolls

In the median of a highway I spotted her. Beneath the shade of the scarlet flamboyant tree, dressed in the colorful embroidered clothes of the Mayan, she sat smiling, a woven tan basket on her lap. Curiosity piqued, I crossed.

“Hola,” she beckoned.

“Hola.” I pointed towards the basket in her lap.

She leaned the basket towards me revealing hundreds of tiny cloth dolls. Different shapes and colors, they were dressed in a fashion similar to hers.

“Que?” I asked.

“Mayan sorrow dolls.” She said in English.

Mayan sorrow dolls?

I asked what a sorrow doll was, but her English could carry her no farther, and my Spanish had done for me all that it could. I purchased three, thanked her and was on my way.

At the hotel, I shared my purchases with the woman behind the concierge desk.

“Ah, very beautiful. Sorrow dolls.” Her smile held my answer.

“What is a sorrow doll?”  I was bursting with curiosity.

“What is a sorrow doll? Ah, okay.” Leaning forward, bringing her elbows together, she rested her heart-shaped chin in the palm of her hands.

“The Mayan Indians made these dolls called sorrow dolls. They believed that the dolls got rid of human sorrows. If you tell your sorrows or troubles to a sorrow doll, it will worry or grieve in your place and you are free to be happy. These dolls are very powerful.”

The answer to my question came in the form of an inspiring story. I grinned.

“Thank you for sharing that with me.” I placed my dolls back in their bag, glad that I had noticed the woman beneath the tree in the median of the highway.

“Give one to your baby.” She whispered nodding at Ohm, who was nestled against my chest in his sling. “When he is older, and he has a bad dream, or is worried about school. The doll will help him. You’ll see.”

“I like that.” I beamed. “Thank you. I will.”

I walked away inspired by the story of the sorrow doll. The Mayans were true visionaries a world without sorrow, how about that?

Out of the three sorrow dolls that I purchased, I’m going to try my luck with one. The other I’m going to save for Ohm. I’ll share the story of the sorrow doll with him when he is old enough to appreciate it. The final doll I would like to share with one of you.

On August 25^th, I will choose at random, an email address from my subscriber’s list, a simple thank you for reading and sharing my sojourns with me. If your name is chosen, you’ll receive an email from me letting you know that a sorrow doll is on its way.  It will be your turn to share the story.

Cancun, Mexico: Photo Essay

Cancun, Mexico: Photo Essay

Sandwiched between the rolling crystal waters of the Caribbean Sea and a murky green tinted crocodile inhabited lagoon, Cancun, Mexico is an easy-going destination with many personalities.

Immortalized forever, thanks to MTV's spring break specials as the place to go to engage in debauchery under the sun, Cancun is so much more than a place for undergrads to go to get wasted and wild.

Yes, there are endless strips of bars, there are designer shopping malls and cheap sleazy hotels; but there are also pristine stretches of serene isolated beaches, turtle reserves, iguana sanctuaries, lovely locally owned restaurants offering the freshest days catch, a simple and easy-going downtown area, friendly locals, crocodiles, and Mayan ruins.

Cancun is gritty, romantic,  family friendly, it loves to party, it offers solitude, it's seeped in history, it's slow and easy, it is so many things.