Ten Days in Tokyo

On Friday, I woke up in Sumida City, a suburb of Tokyo, and after something close to 20 plus hours of travel, I fell asleep again in my own bed in Virginia. After ten days in Tokyo, I was back home and back to Eastern Standard Time.

The time difference between Tokyo and Virginia is 13-hours, so when my partner and I did our video calls via WhatsApp, I had to consider my time, minus one hour, and then flip from either AM or PM. So, 6AM in Tokyo is 5PM in Virginia. Clint and I talked twice a day: when I woke up on his way home from work, and when he woke up as his daughter and I were searching for a place to eat dinner. Normally I can adjust to a time difference in just one hard push to stay awake until 9PM in my visiting city, but a 13-hour day/night flip was hard. It wasn't until my second to last night in Tokyo that I finally slept through the night and even got 9 hours of sleep. For days, I was hungry for lunch at midnight and confused about being awake at noon. How I was able to comprehend the metro system is simultaneously a testament to Google Maps but also my own sense of grit and determination. My sleep-addled brain and my will-power were in a constant battle. It was exhausting.

Japan, however, was worth it.

As anyone who knows me knows, I have an almost annoying love of France. Though my ancestors are Italian and other things, my soul, I'm pretty sure, is French.

If my soul is French, though, my spirit is Japanese. Suffice to say, I felt very comfortable in that country so much so that I experienced a kind of reverse culture shock.

Let me first explain why I was there. It's simple. Star Wars.

Every so often, and rather inconsistently, Disney and Lucasfilm hold Star Wars Celebrations. These are conventions that coincide with big Star Wars news or a big movie or show release. It's a big deal for Star Wars nerds. We show off whatever our flavor of fandom is - tattoos, cosplay, t-shirts, artwork, Yoda-dressed small offspring, etc. and generally enjoy the feeling of belonging. It's an emotional thing to feel in place insted of out of place. Safe instead of scared. Smiled at instead of mocked. Only around Star Wars nerds do I feel understood when I explain why I cried when Ahsoka left the Jedi Temple and why I can't even talk about little kids dressed like Jedi and Darth Vader. There was that one time at Star Wars in Concert when I saw a little 2 foot tall Vader walk up to the 7 foot tall Vader from the 501st so he could show him is light saber. Oh, Jesus. My eyes are leaking just remembering it.

Ahem. Anyway.

The last two Celebrations were in Anaheim. This one, announced last year, was (obviously) in Tokyo. Without hesitation, I texted Clint's oldest daughter and asked if she wanted to go with me. She texted back, "Hell yeah." Clint, on the other hand, couldn't come along because he's got a boring system conversion happening and all vacations are on lockdown until June 2025. That was a big relationship moment for me. He told me he couldn't go and I felt this tug between my love of Star Wars and a sense of solidarity with the man I love.

I don't need to tell you how that all shook out. And look, that doesn't mean I love Star Wars more than I love Clint. I'm sure of it. It just means that my schedule is more flexible right now and my love of Star Wars is so strong it pushed me through a challenging moment.

(As an aside, I would argue that Star Wars or Star Wars adjacent stuff, encouraged me to make other big changes in my life. Changes that encouraged me to move from Columbus, Ohio to Missoula, Montana. That's a whole book's worth of story, though.)

So, his daughter and I bought our tickets to Celebration, our plane tickets, and booked the AirBnB all before the end of day on May 4th, 2024. (For you non-Star Wars people, May 4th is Star Wars Day. May the 4th be with you. Get it? May the Force be with you? Ok. You either get it or you don't. Let's move on.)

Here's some irony, though.

In May of 2024, I had already signed my lease for my wine shop. As a matter of fact, I signed the least in August of 2023. At the time, I was learning about the natural wine industry and looked at the Raw Wine fairs that happen all over the world. One being in Tokyo in May 2025.

Again, I don't need to tell you how that shook out.

It wasn't wine that got me to Tokyo, it was Star Wars.

Me at the Japan 2025 Star Wars Celebration. Outside at the food truck court (the food line inside was too long). I'm wearing my old Yoga Rebels t-shirt from the podcast I used to have with a friend in Columbus. The logo, created by Aaron Ijams, is a mash-up of the Om and Jedi Rebellion symbols. Seemed apropos for the event.

Primary artwork for the Japan 2025 Star Wars Celebration. Much of the artwork was samurai themed.

But, back to the culture shock.

Dear Gentle Readers, I adore Japan.

It's clean. It's quiet. It's orderly. Law abiding. The people are self-aware and concerned with how they impact others' lives. They incorporate nature in nearly everything. Buddhism and Shintoism are more than just religions but a way of life. Walking and riding bikes is the norm. Cars and trucks are electric. They seamlessly blend traditional and modern. They somehow simultaneously have no trash on the ground and no trash cans on the streets. They have bidets on every toilet and free public toilets every other block.

My culture shock was coming from the chaos of the States to the quiet order of Japan.

Here's an example:

Everyone should know that you keep your cell phone on silent on the subway in Japan. (We should do that in the States, too.) You don't talk on the phone on the subway, nor, really, anywhere else. If you do, it's discreet. Certainly not on speaker.

Well, to get from the train station to the AirBnB I needed to use Google Maps. The path was wiggly and took me past tightly packed yet potted plant lined houses. I went past elementary schools, wood shops, vegetable markets, and food stalls with all kinds of ready-to-eat chicken on a a stick, noodles, and other things I couldn't quickly identify. Gentle music played along the route down the narrow street lined with shops and stalls, but otherwise, people walked on the left side in complete silence. At first, it was unnerving. And then, I realized just how traumatized I was by the constant visual and auditory noise of the U.S. Can you even imagine walking down a city street and not even really hearing the cars go by?

Also, you don't have to bother with smiling at everyone you pass. There was no expectation of false positivity among strangers. It didn't feel impolite, it felt freeing. There was no voice in my head getting prepared to acknowledge a stranger walking the other direction. No voice that said, "Ok! Let's act happy for that stranger's sake even though your cat just died."

Emotions were expressed at appropriate times. In actual social situations. And also in ridiculous ads for disaster preparedness backpacks. (The country is an island with the potential for tsunami and earthquakes. Being prepared with three days of water and snacks is legit. But that doesn't mean the backpack can't be cute and fashionable!)

Before I went to Japan, I did my research, and that research paid off. No matter where I go, I want to be aware of customs and cultural expectations so that I don't accidentally offend anyone. It's my nature to maybe offend someone intentionally, but I avoid doing it accidentally. After all, I don't want to be "that person". That tourist. That American. And, I think I successfully wasn't.

Since this is a blog associated with a wine shop, you may be wondering if I'll make a connection to wine, or even sake, even though the catalyst for the trip was Star Wars. It's not much, but here you go.

On our third night there, we decided we were too tired from Star Wars-ing all day, and ended up getting dinner from a 24-hour convenience store type market a few doors down from our apartment. Though the food was all packaged, it was fresh and super tasty. Based on the clientele shopping with us, it was geared toward single people, bachelors, and those who might not regularly cook for themselves. After picking out my pot stickers, ready made noodles, red bean paste buns, and mochi for dessert, I looked at the selection of sake.

I'll be very honest, there was more sake selection in that convenience store than I know I'll be able to have at my wine shop.

Without bothering to use the Google Translate lens to read the labels (which also came in handy at restaurants even if they had pictures, by the way) I chose a small box covered in cherry blossoms that had a small straw attached to the back. Yes. A sake juice box. It was adorable and, I was surprised, good. Though I was a little put off by drinking out of a box, through a straw, and basically getting a shot of sake every time I took a sip, it was still good sake.

Sake Juice Box

That said, with a screwed up sleep schedule and a state of constant sleep deprivation, I only had a few sips of sake my entire trip. I've come to a point in my life where sleep is far more important to me than just about anything else.

The other wine/sake related thing was on our last day. We took the train about an hour west of Tokyo proper to Meiji Jingu, a shinto shrine in Shibuya City. The shrine is located in the center of a lush forested area with gravel paths and even more serenity than what I'd theretofore experienced, which was impossible to imagine yet happened nonetheless. Despite the throng of visitors and tourists, the weight of time, tradition, and arboreal beauty created a stillness that my bones needed. I'll be honest, the peace I experienced in Japan was more healing than I realized I needed and more than I bothered to expect. I could have wandered and sat and wandered and sat in that forest for days.

Me on the tree-line path to the Meiji Jingu shinto shrine.

But alas. Life and itineraries intervene.

After finding the shrine and donating 100 yen to receive a poem from an ancient Empress that was said to have meaning only I would understand (it did), we chose a different path and wound up in a place lined with barrels.

Path outside of the shrine lined with wine and sake barrels

Knowing that I'm one to think I know something when sometimes I don't, I was hesitant to acknowledge that the hundred or so wooden barrels on one side of the path were all wine barrels, even though the metal plaques read "Domaine XYZ, Bourgone, France." I mean, maybe they were something else? I didn't want to be that wine shop owner hammer assuming everything was a wine related nail. And yet, it was!

Instead of summarizing the sign, I'll let you read it for yourself.

It took me a while to accept that what I was looking at were barrels of wine.

On the other side of the path was a long row of sake barrels. Again, I'll let you read it.

Had I not been weary and surrounded by gaggles of obnoxious tourists who didn't have the quiet Japanese spirit I self-righteously..I mean...humbly embodied, I would have wept a bit at the sentiment of the relationship celebrated here between France and Japan. East meets West. The joining of my spirit and my soul, apparently. But also, the remembrance of relationships, friendships, and joint sharing of cultures and knowledge between countries. A poignant loss I've been mourning recently in the midst of our current political turmoil.

Walking down the aisle of wine and sake barrels, I couldn't help but be reminded of the whole point of why I wanted to open a wine shop. Yes, I want good wine near me, but there's so much more to wine and alcoholic beverages than simply the drinking of it. There's a ceremony to it all. A communion. And I write these words with the awareness of being in the wake of the death of the pope, though my days of attempting Catholicism are long gone.

I'm not one for religion. I am one for community. For a place and a reason to gather.

You know by now that the theme or mission statement for my wine shop is "Community. Creativity. Conversation." and I draw inspiration for that from all the places that I travel. What I want above all right now is those three things. Yes, peace and quiet, but community, creativity, and conversation, too.

The ways I felt at home in Japan were legion. I eat with chopsticks at every meal but breakfast. We sit on the floor as much as possible. If I can't be a Jedi than I'll settle for studying Buddhism. The large influence of Japan on Star Wars. And so on. But those are just the Japanese things. At first I thought I noticed all the French stuff because of my love for France but there are patisseries, restaurants and cafes with French names, French words and sayings on t-shirts, and the list goes on. It turns out that, more than just this wine and sake thing, Japan loves all things Parisian (except, apparently, Paris itself. Look up Paris Syndrome.) It was strange at first to read French words in Japan but then it became comfortable and common.

After all those days in Tokyo with lots of French stuff, I returned from Japan by way of Montreal which allowed me to be around French-speaking people for a couple of hours.

What I mean to say is that I came home exhausted to the core but also deeply refreshed. Renewed. Filled up by all my favorite stuff.

Like I'd say to my yoga students, "You can't pour water out of an empty pitcher". I suppose you also can't pour wine out of an empty pitcher. Either way, my pitcher is no longer empty. Before my trip, I questioned whether or not I even had a pitcher left to fill anymore. All of everything had become too much. I needed to take a break from America for a while. Find my center. Find peace again. Be reminded that quiet is possible.

For ten days, I had my phone on vibrate and, you know, I think I'm going to leave it that way. I admit that I read the news and it got my shoulders all bunched up when I did, but then I'd walk out onto quiet, azelia lined streets and that stress melted away.

I know I can't recreate Japan or France in my wine shop, but I've got memories that I can draw from to at least recreate the needed feeling in my bones.

With just weeks now until I'll finally be able to open my shop, I'm getting more nervous and excited for the change to my lifestyle that this wine shop will require. I loved having a yoga studio for the very same reason. In creating a space for others, I created that space for myself. I can tell others all day long that they can't pour water from an empty pitcher - meaning you need to take care of yourself so that you can take care of others - but I know I'm probably the worst at making that happen for myself. So, because I'm too lazy to go to someone else's yoga class, I had to open a business and create the environment for myself. It's ridiculous, I know. And I'm doing the same thing with this wine shop.

As of this writing, Monday April 28, ABC (Alcohol Beverage Control) is scheduled to visit at 3:30 for a final visit. Next Monday, my POS system is getting installed. Of course, we've got a trip back to Missoula scheduled for May 8-17, which will probably do the trick to totally top off my pitcher, but that means any soft opening isn't likely until later in May.

So be it.

I'm as ready as I'll ever be and excited for all the unknowns.

The force is with me. I am one with the force. And may the force be with us all.

Me at the Samurai Ninja Museum