Over the Internet one of our small band of Tokyo explorers had found a guide that we hired for the day. The plan was that he would take us to various art venues and to show us Tokyo architecture. It turned out to be one of the most surrealistic days of our lives. We have discussed the day over many Sakes and much wine, and we really don’t know what the truth is and what the fiction is. It is clear that our guide was an art hustler. It is also true he knows a lot about Tokyo and is well known in Tokyo. Here is what happened….
He picked us up and we headed out in his vehicle. He quickly informed us he was a Sephardic Jew, who has never eaten any meat or fish or chicken. He then informed us through story after story that he was gay. He then explained his family was from India, moved to Burma and lived in Rangoon, then to China and finally to Japan many years ago. He carries a Japanese passport but is clearly not-racially Japanese. He was born after World War II in Japan. Because of what he claimed was racial prejudice against non-racial Japanese, his parents sent him to India to a top school in the Himalayas. At the school he became friends with a fellow student who was the Prince of the Kingdom of Mustang located near Nepal.
He considers him self an underground art rebel and has according to him, a non-profit art foundation and has established an art investment hedge fund.
We learned all this has he drove us to a part of Tokyo we had never seen. It was all low buildings, much like Kyoto, and what Tokyo must have looked like before it was devastated in the war and rebuilt. We walked through and old Shinto Shrine, went to and exclusive Tea Emporium and then bought rice cookies from a vendor who clearly knew him and knew that the cookies would be given to his dog who loved them. He spoke fluent Japanese and talked to everyone. A gentleman from India walked down the street and our guide turned to him and started an elaborate conversation in Hindi. At the end of the conversation the Indian commented in English how good his Hindi was. Anyone would think he was an American – that is what he looks like, and are surprised when he speaks Japanese. In fact he doesn’t much care for Americans or Japanese.
We have all read Japanese books translated into English that were written by Murakami. We especially liked “Kafka on the Shore”. He related how Murakami has been a friend of his for 30 years. He then said that a major character in the book is him. We realized it was true - his life story is the character in the book. On reflection we don’t know if Murakami modeled the character on our guide, or our guide read the book and adopted the persona of the character of the book.
He talked a lot about his friend, the famous Japanese photographer Nobuyoshi Araki. He talked of their sexual lives, and a strange exploit when they tied a movie camera to his dog and went into whore houses and secretly made movies.
He drove threw the back alleys of Tokyo and clearly understood the winding, twisting narrow streets better then most of the taxi drivers we have used. He then proceeded to ask if we knew the British Expression: Wankers, he then explained it, then said there was a 1920’s Negro Spiritual about them and how wankers weren’t allowed on the train. Soon as we drove through Tokyo, where you never hear a car honk, his windows are down and the car stereo is playing a 1920’s Negro Spiritual about wankers on a train.
We then seemed to drive aimlessly from lunch restaurant to lunch restaurant, all being closed until Ferris declared she wanted Soba Noodles for Lunch. Soon we arrive at one of the oldest Soba Noodle restaurants in Tokyo and are having a great meal. A very strange and wonderful thing happens in this restaurant, as the orders are given, a woman sings the order to the kitchen in beautiful voice. It was really a treat to be there.
We then went to Ueno Royal Buddhist Museum where we visited the Horyo-ji Homotsu-kan. This sleek new gallery contains a selection of priceless treasures donated over the centuries to Nara's Horyu-ji temple . The most eye-catching display comprises 48 gilt-bronze Buddhist statues in various poses, each an island of light in the inky darkness, while there's also an eighth-century Chinese zither and an inkstand said to have been used by Prince Shotoku when annotating the lotus sutra. This was a beautiful museum we certainly wouldn’t have ever seen on our own. We went to several other great museums, he pointed some amazing architecture and took us to several galleries.
He would switch on Armed forces radio and play as we drove through the city streets. Armed forces radio is apparently the only English language radio in Tokyo. It is not to our taste. He was constantly on the phone doing art or real-estate deals or pretending to.
We went to several galleries and saw a lot of art. The wife of a diplomat from the EU stopped us on the street to talk to him.
He declared that because of his childhood friendship with the Prince of Mustang, he was made by the King of Mustang, the Ambassador from Mustang to Japan. He said that he was asked to give a gift to the Emperor of Japan and he flew to India, took another smaller plane that landed in a field. He was given a small horse and rode 5 days to Mustang where he was then given a rug to take back to the Emperor of Japan. He said he went to see the Princess of Mustang, who had an electric cable strung across the ceiling of her home to give the impression of have electricity, yet had bronze lamps hanging from the wire that lit the room with Yack Butter.
He also answered his cell phone “Shabbat Shalom”, although it was Tuesday. He related how his aunt was a platonic lover of James Baldwin and how Jimmy and him were friends. He related how is dog has always kept Kosher. He related that his parents lived in Shanghi and brought their Chinese servants to Japan and that when he went to school in India, his parents sent the Chinese cook (and his dog) with him to make sure he kept Kosher.
He talked and talked, about art, about his friendships with artists, low-lifes and investors and his sex life. He dropped names of everyone. He discussed everyone’s sexuality. He staged parties. He got the Empress of Japan to come to one of his art openings. How his electricity gets turned off because he can’t pay the bills because of his art foundation.
He was maddening to be around. Yet strangely intoxicating. He was racist (against Japanese) and condescending and rude and funny. He speaks in dialects and tells crude jokes. He is a character. We finally collectively decided we couldn’t take him much more and ended our tour about 7:30pm. It was a full day. We are all glad that he was able to show us a part of Tokyo we never would have seen. We drove back to the hotel crossing next to the Tokyo Tower that looks just like the Eiffel Tower, except it is painted orange. It looks great at night. We all went back to the hotel for a drink way up high in our hotel overlooking Tokyo. Cathy and I then went out and found a small Yokatori restaurant located underneath the elevated railroad tracks, where we grilled our own pork and had a Sake. We were ready for bed. We really like Tokyo!
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