Hoppy McBathtime

This Coke machine takes payment via infrared transmission, cellular phone screen reader, or cellphone IC (prepaid?) card. This is in a city with no wi-fi access points.

Internet access has turned out to be another technical challenge out here in the countryside. I’d hoped to find a café or library with wireless access available, but even after inquiring at city hall we came up with nothing—the closest option is a MacDonald’s in a neighboring city, which is about a $10 train ride away. Actually, it turns out that I’m not even allowed to bring my laptop into the local library for some reason. The best we’ve been able to manage is an AOL Japan dialup account, which is free for the first month (which is as long as I need it anyway) but due to the high cost of landline phone calls here ends up costing a couple dollars an hour. Needless to say I will not be downloading American TV programs or playing any online games on this arrangement.

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Bathing via bicycle

Japanese gardens are known for their fine stone sculptures, such as this stunning rendition of Ultraman taking a dump.

Despite my best efforts to take advantage of staying in downtown Osaka that first night, I wasn’t ultimately able to make it much past 9:00 before turning in. I was up early the next morning though, during which time I was able to take a quiet walk through the neighborhood before the oppressive heat and crowds set in. The bus ride from Osaka to Saijo City took about five and a half hours and would almost have been pleasant had it not been for two kindergarten-age sisters sharing a seat next to their entirely oblivious and/or incompetent mother, shrieking and singing and fighting and babbling for the whole trip.

Saijo is located in Ehime Prefecture, on the island of Shikoku, itself off the southern coast of the main island. There are a lot of rice fields and waterways here, owing to the plentiful natural springs that provide cool, clear water even in the heat of summer. The water is so good that Asahi Beer has a major plant here, and decorative fountains adorn the downtown sidewalks, from which people fill up jugs to use at home.

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Next time, I’ll take the bus

Mt. Fuji as seen from the plane. I think.

I’m pretty sure it was Mt. Fuji that I saw poking through the clouds shortly after our plane came within sight of land after our trans-Pacific crossing. Unfortunately I had nobody to point it out to at the time, since my wife had come to Japan about a month earlier due to a family health emergency, leaving me to make the trip on my own. As much as I enjoy traveling alone from time to time, there’s something sad about seeing something so majestic but not having anyone to share it with.

Rather than embarking on the 14-hour marathon of taking the all-night ferry to Nana’s home island directly from the airport, I opted to spend a night in Osaka. It’s been a few years since I’ve spent any amount of time in Japan by myself, and I was looking forward to poking around the downtown Umeda district that evening. Upon clearing customs and immigration at Kansai International (remarkably quickly compared to what I’m used to at Tokyo’s Narita airport) I headed for the airport’s JR train station.

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Visit to fuseproject

I just got back from a short visit with fuseproject, the San Francisco design consultancy headed by Yves Behar. They gave our group from SFSU IDSA a quick tour of the 29-person office, which is (as one would expect) nicely laid out and clearly geared towards collaborative work, favoring long, shared tables over individual desks and cubicles. Following the tour we spent about an hour speaking with senior designer Bart Haney, who provided us with an insightful look at the inner workings of this new yet high-profile design firm.

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Cultural identity postcard

This is a project for one of my design seminars, for which we were asked to create a 5″x7″ postcard that reflects our “cultural identity”. Rather than taking the obvious route of addressing my mixed ethnicity, I decided instead to focus on the parts of my identity that relate to hacker culture.

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