I just posted my review of JCVD, Jean-Claude Van Damme’s semi-autobiographical film (which shouldn’t scare you away in the slightest), at Filmwell.

We spent almost a week in Tokyo, but feel like we only saw about 1% of the city—it’s that huge. Actually, I don’t think “huge” even comes close to capturing what the city feels like.

Due to Simon’s aforementioned illness, we weren’t able to explore as much as we would’ve liked. The only two places we really went to were the Imperial Palace Gardens and Akihabara.

The Imperial grounds are surrounded by a moat, which, in this day and age, is absolutely worthless from a military perspective. But I was struck by how a moat can still inspire wonder and awe; as you cross it, the mere fact that a particular tract of land has been set aside by this water imbues it with a certain feeling that could almost be described as sacred.

The Gardens, as you might imagine, are beautiful, full of flowering trees and wide open expanses that would make for the absolutely perfect picnic spot. It was a little chilly the day we went, but the place was still very active with families, salarymen on their breaks, and of course, tourists. It’s quite a walk, so make sure you prepare beforehand (we didn’t really), but a gorgeous walk nevertheless.

Akihabara is nuts with a capital “crazy”. Imagine the nerdiest, geekiest place on Earth, then multiply that by ten. Everywhere you look, you see stores selling crazy gadgets (apparently, this is where all of the Westerners come to get heated toilet sets), anime models and toys, the latest cutting edge technology, erotic sake cups, and of course, porn.

Speaking of anime models and toys, I think my VF-25 Messiah and EVA 01 figures are going to look pretty boss on my desk.

The Japanese are the masters of muzak. Case in point: we walked through a massive department store/shopping mall in Akihabara called Yodobashi Akiba—think 50 Best Buys rolled into one—and over the PA we heard a woman singing what we could only assume was an ode to Akihabara, but set to the tune of “The Battle Hymn of the Republic.” Best. Muzak. Ever.

We spent part of our time in Tokyo with our friends Chris and Molly, who are involved in college ministry. Thus, we were able to experience a Japanese college campus during recruitment time, which is when all of the college’s clubs attempt to sign up new students. For you UNL folks, imagine Big Red Welcome on a bender of crack and steroids, and you’re about halfway there.

I was actually reminded of the Cornerstone Festival, what with all of the booths and bands playing in the background. Indeed, one of my favorite moments in the entire three weeks was watching an unidentified Japanese college rock band tear it up on stage.

The day after visiting the campus, we went to an all-day BBQ with Chris, Molly, and the rest of their club. BBQs are BBQs no matter where you are. You eat hot dogs, play games (for the record, I did play a round of Ultimate Frisbee, something my body is still paying for), and just generally have a great time. Simon was a big hit; he had a trio of Japanese girls following him around like the paparazzi, doing their best to make him smile and taking his picture as often as they could.

The students were a delightful and awfully bright lot, and we had many pleasant conversations about our trip to Japan, Nebraska life, anime, and blogging, among other things. Every time I think about Tomohito, Tetsu, Tomoko, Masaki, Jun, and “Jack” (he was a big fan of 24), I can’t help but smile.

Going to the Ghibli Museum was, by far, the most bittersweet moment of the trip. If you’re at all a fan of My Neighbor Totoro, Grave Of The Fireflies, Princess Mononoke, Spirited Away, or any other Ghibli fare, then this place is your Mecca. But it’s not just a celebration of all things Ghibli; it’s also a celebration of animation in general. There are several tremendous exhibits—if you can call them that—that showcase the techniques and concepts behind animation, the history of animation, and a “behind the scenes” look at how animators work (complete with hundreds of beautiful sketches and paintings from past Ghibli films).

Other highlights of the Museum include: the Totoro that welcomes you and points you to the museum’s front door (one of my single favorite sites of the entire trip); the ode to Castle In The Sky‘s floating island of Laputa on the museum’s roof; the Catbus replica, which, unfortunately, only young children can climb on; and the theatre that plays various shorts including Mei and the Kittenbus, a spiritual sequel to My Neighbor Totoro that is exclusive to the museum. Which brings us to the bitter part of visiting the museum. I’m not sure if Simon was still recovering from being sick or if the museum crowd got to him, but he was quite the pill that day. So much so that Renae had to leave the theatre during Mei and the Kittenbus, an absolutely heartbreaking experience since there’s no way she’ll ever get to see the film again unless we return to Japan.

One of the tricky things about traveling overseas is that different countries have different security procedures. So what might’ve passed when you flew out of the States could throw up red flags when you fly out of Japan. Not that we caused any international incidents, but still, it was a little worrisome. Of course, the Japanese security officer was as courteous about the whole thing as you could imagine, and even cleaned our toiletries bag when she saw that one of our travel shampoo bottles had leaked.

Jet lag is a bitch. But jet lag when you’re sick? The only words to describe that are not ones you say (or type) in public. However, one thing that makes up for jet lag is having good neighbors and friends who will look after your child—who, of course, got a good night’s sleep on the 11-hour flight while you got zilch—when you get home so that you can get a couple hours of real, blessed sleep.

In a word, our trip to Japan was awesome. The only stress we experienced was during Simon’s bout of illness, at which point we seriously considered buying tickets to come home early. But I’m glad we stuck it out. Japan is a wonderful country, so much so that it’s really hard not to romanticize it. And it’s an especially great country if you’re traveling with young children. Indeed, we found it easier to travel in Japan with Simon than it is here in the U.S., language barrier notwithstanding—and even the language barrier is negligible, due to the fact that so many Japanese understand and speak English reasonably well (which couldn’t really be said of us when it came to their language).

Of course, we were incredibly blessed to have several friends in Japan to provide us with free or insanely cheap lodging, food, and guidance. So many, many thanks to the O’Donnells, Nethercotts, and Ebbers. Our trip wouldn’t have even been half of what it was without them.

Suffice to say, we can’t wait to go back. It might not be for several years, but we will make it back to Japan someday.

All of our Japan photos can be found in this Flickr set.

So we made it. We survived three weeks in Japan, with only a little jet lag to show for it. Actually, I kid: our trip was a wonderful experience, as you might’ve guessed from the “Notes from Japan” that I’ve been posting over time (#1, #2, #3, #4 is forthcoming).

Of course, our trip wasn’t all just sight-seeing and eating fabulous food. We also spent some time working on a serious family project.

My first article for Filmwell has just been posted. Entitled “Mono no aware”, it’s a a list of several Japanese film that seem to typify “the sadness of things”. It was an awfully fun article to write, even liberating in some ways, and I look forward to more of the same.

The Mary Onettes have a new EP entitled Dare coming out on April 29, and you can listen to a couple of tracks on their MySpace page. I don’t mind admitting that my heart skipped a beat or two when I heard that orchestration come swooping in on the title track (download it here). Or, as the Labrador newsletter put it:

Written in isolation and partly recorded in a church “Dare” still ends up their most uplifting song to date—imagine a Swedish equivalent of The National on a diet of speed, Planet Earth DVDs and Go-Betweens singles and you’ll have a vague idea of how wonderful this is!

The Mary Onettes are back, and I for one, couldn’t be happier.

The Shinkansen (aka, bullet train) is as bitchin’ as you might expect, and then some. Seeing one whip through the station at 70+ mph was enough to turn me into a giddy little seven-year-old boy all over again. When you’re actually in one, it’s like riding on a cloud, even moreso than an airplane. And yes, they’re on time—you really can set your watch to them (I did).

Kyoto is a beautiful city, but like much of Japan, can also be overwhelming. If/when you get off at Kyoto Station, make sure you spend about 15-20 minutes just wandering the station and getting your bearings. Also, be sure to check out the big board in the bus terminal that has brief descriptions of all of the major tourist attractions as well as all of the buses that go to each one. Once you do that, Kyoto will be much easier to explore, and you’ll appreciate the genius behind the city’s bus system. Seriously, it’s amazing.

All of the places we saw in Kyoto were great, but it’s always a little anti-climactic when you go to visit a centuries-old temple only to discover that it’s basically contained within a giant warehouse because it’s undergoing repairs. Don’t get me wrong, I understand that even temples need a little TLC from time to time, and the warehouses are impressive in their own way, but still, it’s a wee bit disappointing.

It’s hard to pick a favorite spot in Kyoto, but if pressed, I’d have to say either Ginkaku-ji or Fushimi Inari. The former is a beautiful temple built on the side of some forested hills, and as such, is surrounded by a number of sylvan paths and walkways. The latter is a network of temples and shrines connected by numerous pathways, all of which are lined by thousands of bright orange gates. The entire atmosphere is quite otherworldly and haunting as you walk through the gates, discovering little shrines at each and every turn; many of them have incense burning, literally in the middle of nowhere, which only adds to the sensation.

Speaking of Fushimi Inari, the paths stretch for several kilometers up and into the mountains, so it’s certainly no walk in the park. That’s doubly so when you’re carrying a one-year-old on your back (or so Renae tells me). However, once again, I was amazed at the apparent masochism of some Japanese; we saw numerous women assail the paths in high heels and miniskirts, and many men do it in business suits. It seemed that the only people dressed for actual hiking were the many westerners we saw.

For whatever reason, I was expecting a ryokan, or traditional Japanese hotel, to be akin to an American bed and breakfast. It’s not, really. Which is not to say that the ryokan was unpleasant, far from it. But it did take some getting used to. And no, we didn’t do the Japanese bath. Not because we were prudes or anything, but mainly because it was just too freakin’ hot.

If you’re like me and not inclined to wearing slippers, Japan can be a little confusing. In any given day, you’ll probably switch between three or four pairs of slippers, be they house slippers, hotel slippers, toilet slippers, or restaurant slippers.

Seeing a geisha was an odder experience than I thought it would be. On the one hand, you want to take a hundred photos because, well, they’re the quintessential Japanese symbol and because they’re absolutely stunning to behold, from the stylized makeup to their gorgeous kimonos. On the other hand, you feel ashamed of even lifting a camera in their general direction. You see, a geisha is immediately swarmed by people taking photos (including numerous Japanese, which struck me as a little strange for some reason), and you begin to feel sorry for these women who have to maintain such incredible poise and composure for so long. It’s as if they’re forced to stop being human beings and made to become human statues—statues that are elegant and graceful to a degree that’s hard to imagine, but statues nonetheless. As such, taking photos of them—even just one or two, like I did—feels somehow sacrilegious and cheapening.

Several of the department stores we visited had entire sections devoted to selling Studio Ghibli merchandise, which ranged from stuffed figures to scotch tape holders to calendars to toilet seat covers. If I were a weaker man, I could have easily spent several hundred dollars in one of these sections alone. Thankfully, I have some willpower, but it is awfully tempting. I have a feeling I’m going to lose it when we finally get to the Studio Ghibli museum.

Yes, we did go to McDonald’s while in Kyoto… twice. We also went to a Big Boy. Hey, when you’re tired from walking all day and have a sleeping kid, and standing in line for a “fancy” restaurant just isn’t going to work, sometimes all you can do is go for a quarter pounder with cheese. You may have sworn off fast food forever, but believe me, there will come a time if/when traveling overseas when you’ll cry tears of joy upon seeing those golden arches. And no, it doesn’t really taste any different here than in the States. The fries are better, though.

If you’re ever in Shizuoka, you must go to Giardino. We’ve had a lot of fantastic food in Japan and I’d place Giardino near the top of the list. It’s not a Japanese restaurant per se, but rather, has an eclectic menu that is a great mix of East and West. The food is incredible, both in terms of taste and presentation, and they have fantastic gelato. The restaurant, which feels like a swank European jazz club/coffeehouse with a distinct Japanese twist, has great atmosphere, and the owners—Shigeo and Koji—are the best of hosts.

As I’ve mentioned earlier, traveling with children changes the tourist experience quite a bit. That’s doubly true when traveling with sick children. It’s stressful enough when you’re in your home country, but in a foreign land where you don’t speak the language, they don’t have the same medicine that you’re accustomed to, and you find that you forgot to pack all of the basic kiddie medical supplies, it’s easy to quickly reach a state of panic. All of which is to say that when a family takes you under their wing, gives you the medicine and supplies you’re missing, lets you use their bathtub to bathe your sickly child, and even lends you their cellphone in case any emergencies arise later that night, well, words can’t really describe how much of a blessing it is.

Note to parents coming to Japan: be sure to bring your own children and infants’ Tylenol. You can’t get it here.

I used to think that the state of Washington at the height of berry season had the best fruit I’ve ever tasted. Now that I’ve been in Japan, I’m reassessing the opinion. Even the apple juice you buy in a carton from the neighborhood grocery store is so fresh, it tastes like the trees are growing next door. (But don’t worry, Washington: you’re still aces when it comes to blackberry pie. Noone’s ever going to take that from you.)