Impact of the Camera

Yesterday I met a friend in Tokyo. We had ramen at a "famous" place in Kabukicho, in Shinjuku, that he'd seen on TV. The distinctives were the atmosphere (clean, glass walls, well lit) and lots of green onions (a whole bowl that you add yourself). Unfortunately, the atmosphere (if you like that) was the best part. My friend wasn't too happy with the taste, and he made an urgent visit to the restroom afterwards which he blamed on the meal. I added tons of garlic and some chile sauce to my ramen, and then it tasted pretty good. My wife said the whole house reaked of garlic later than night, and she even professed trouble sleeping, plus it took an effort to get all those green onions out of my teeth. I don't think I'll be going back.

After we ate and my friend relieved himself, we went to Harajuku. It was my first time to really walk around there, and I enjoyed taking pictures. I'll post more of those later. We went into Yoyogi Park and saw a large group of high schoolers doing nothing, looking mildly strange but harmless. On the other side of the path, leaning against a tree, was a man playing a traditional string instrument. I veered over to take his picture as he nodded agreement. As I walked away a group of the high school girls separated and practically rushed over to him. In moments one was seated on his chair plucking away at the instrument, while everyone chatted happily and took pictures with their cell phones. I was happy that my forwardness gave them the opportunity to go and meet him.

Speaking of the camera's impact on people. I took a walk with my daugher to a park and saw this man playing with his daugher. She was trying to vault over some wooden pommel horses and tried gamely to jump over the highest one with no success. I wandered over and took this picture. Then her father started coaching her to jump over the highest pommel (the one she's sitting on here).

After a few attempts, perhaps conscious of my camera, he gave her a push. I was looking down at the LCD to take this picture, so I just heard the thud. I looked up and she was flat on the ground and crying. Her father quickly bent down and tried to cheer her up by laughing happily (mental note: this didn't work). She lifted her face and one whole side was brown with caked on dirt. I think she landed directly on it. I didn't take any more pictures and tried to put my camera away as unobtrusively as possible. The father was laughing steadily, probably embarrassed. Mom came running followed by more "encouraging" laughter and blood ensuing from the nose. Someone produced a wet rag, and peace was restored gradually. Later we crossed paths on the way home. The girl was trying hard to look OK despite her scraped up face. Father was still very "positive" but doing it quietly.

By the way, if you're down on dad, I'm reminding myself that he spends Saturday afternoons with his daughter, rather than playing pachinko or golf or something else. If he's like many fathers, then he may come home very late and not see her much on weekdays. It's tough, and...well, I'd better end this here. More later in time.