Happy New Year

New Years is an excuse to party in America.  To indulge in all of the things that you will totally NOT do next year because Resolutions and fitting into those jeans again.  By some stroke of luck, I celebrated the ushering in of 2017 in Mo-Fo TOKYO.  The biggest city in the world.  Obviously, that city would offer the biggest NYE parties in the world, right?

Yeah, I thought so too.

I don’t have a strong academic understanding of the history of Buddhism and New Years in Japan.  I can pretend to, because my only living grandparent, Nadine, has practiced Buddhism for several decades and what I’ve gleaned from her is harmony, peace, and a whole mess of wonderful things which I’ve experienced while living here.  But truth be told, I ain’t know shit and she is not wont to party.  But my understanding is that the New Year in Japan is a deeply spiritual holiday, which warrants the closing of many businesses even in a country full of tireless workers and business owners.

My husband and I don’t argue often, but when we do – we dig those heels in until we’re both waist-deep.  I mentioned that I had read that in Japan, New Years was more of a family holiday where people travel home (much like we do in America for Thanksgiving or Christmas) and that it wasn’t a party atmosphere in Tokyo like you might expect.  He countered that Tokyo is Tokyo and we would be assaulted by huge parties because Tokyo and stubborn. 

We both threw in the towel and agreed to be wrong (him) and right (me).  On New Year’s Eve, we decided we’d head to Meijijingu (Meiji Shrine) in central Tokyo.  It happens to be located between Shinjuku and Shibuya which are two of our favorite high-paced Tokyo neighborhoods, but I felt it would be appropriate to visit a shrine and pay my respects.  If for no other reason than to honor my grandmother, who would certainly relish in the opportunity to celebrate the new year at a shrine in Tokyo.

I’m not and have never been a religious person.  But Jesus Christ, Meijijingu on New Years Eve was like the Disneyland of Buddhism.  I went there hoping to experience some solitude, self-reflection, and peace.  Instead I experienced an onslaught of tourists, hourds of selfie-sticks, and a bastion of food carts including one that purported to be Mexican food but actually sold hot dogs wrapped in tortillas and deep fried, served with mustard.  I mean, don’t get me wrong… I obviously ate one.  But I was pissed off about it the whole time.  I was there for spiritual awakening, god damn it, and instead I got not-Mexican Mexican food and a bunch of gaijin doing pouty-faces in front of the Torii gate.

So my New Years spiritual journey was a bust.  I resolved to visit a completely obscure shrine on a completely obscure day, and we moved on with our New Years Eve as the godless heathens we are.

We’ve been to Shinjuku several times, and it can best be summarized by taking a handful of Legos and some glitter and eighteen million people and putting them in a blender and then dumping it all in your face.  On New Years Eve, we wandered through the back-alleys that are typically filled with tons of people and young girls in outrageously short skirts tempting you into whatever nightclub employs them.  On New Years Eve, it was… quiet.  There were grates over many of the doors.  The girls were nowhere to be found.  There were so many white people!  What is this sorcery?!

While I had hoped to experience solitude at a Buddhist shrine, I inexplicably experienced solitude in the heart of Tokyo.  It was eerily quiet, quizzically peaceful, and just… nice.

Tucked away in a back alley, Jan was smoking a cigarette.  Out of nowhere, he laughed.  

“What’s so funny?” I asked.

“We live here.”

Funny how the hustle and bustle had helped distract us.  On the most unlikely of quiet days, the noise 

disappeared.  It started to sink in.  

We journeyed back home on the Express train which requires a transfer at Machida Station to the local line which takes us home, but we decided to why-not just bum around Machida.  

At this point, the fact that it was a complete ghost town was a running joke.  Goddamn, I love being right.  I mean, it felt almost deserted.  We stopped in at a bar and it was almost entirely Westerners, clearly trying to figure out why everyone wasn’t out here partying.  For the first time since we’ve moved to Japan, I felt equal parts alone and accepted.  Especially when a white dude dressed as Captain Jack Sparrow showed up. 

Tokyo.  A city that never sleeps, populated by people who never take a day off.  But to celebrate the New Year, they migrate away from the Big City and spend the transition with the people who mean the most to them.  That’s a great way to usher in a new year, and a fresh start.

We’re thousands of miles away from everyone we love, but please know that you were in our hearts while we were taking shots of rum with Jack Sparrow at 1am in a random alleyway bar outside Tokyo.  When you can’t be with family, you make the most of what you’ve got at hand.  2017 is looikng good.