I found a hip hop dance class meetup. I looked up how to get there with Apple Maps. An hour and a few buses and trains later, I was in a suburban area near Saitama. I asked some passersby for help, showing them the address on my phone. The place I was trying to get to was actually in Ikebukuro, not anywhere near I was now. It had already taken me some effort and time to find my way to this outer neighborhood. I had to ask for help from a few people before that. One guy was kind enough to walk me around a bus station to help me find the stop I needed. I was already late and there was no way I was going to get there before the end via public transit, so I hailed a taxi. I finally got there, asking for help a few more times on the way, with about 30 minutes left in the class. The other students had already been drilling a particular routine for almost an hour. Undaunted, I jumped in and tried to do what everyone else was doing.

In this video I was mirroring the guy in front of me, but he got the steps in the wrong order so we both got out of sync. A heartfelt thanks to all the Tokyoites who helped the poor lost foreigner.

After class, the students and the instructor went to a nearby konbini to get some adult beverages and hang out in the park. Friendly folks. The instructor said they usually go to an izakaya after class but tomorrow he’s going skiing near Kanazawa so he needed to get home to get some rest.

After we parted ways, I decided to check out a place my friend recommended: Night cafe OTTA. A few more trains and an hour later (I took some wrong turns) I finally found the cafe, but alas I didn’t have a reservation. Dejected but determined to have some fun, I surveyed the other night life options. I squeezed in to a tiny hooka karaoke bar full of other hakujin. They were complaining about the state of international relations vis a vi America and he who shall not be named. I sang American Idiot by Green Day. I wanted to find a more Japanese place, so I bid the gaikokujin farewell and kept wandering. I heard some echos of laughter outside a building with a dozen or so places on different floors. I wandered around until I found a door where the laughter seemed the loudest (the doors to Japanese-style bars are generally kept closed) and walked in.

They seemed pleasantly surprised to see a hakujin stroll in and gestured toward a seat at the bar. There were a few Japanese patrons on my left and a few on my right, and a few Japanese women behind the bar. One of the women behind the bar, an international relations student at the nearby university named Koume, asked where I’m from.

“San Francisco” I said.

“Ehhhhhhhhhhhh?? I want to go to San Francisco!” Koume’s English is much better than average. I was mixing in what Japanese I knew, but it was mostly for my own practice and so the other people could understand me. Koume always understood my English. “But the yen” she pointed down and frowned. Another reminder to be grateful that I’m able to travel like I am.

I started telling her about all the things to do and see and eat in The City. I also explained that we only have a few distinct transit systems, as opposed to the several operators in Tokyo, where I’m constantly getting confused and turned around in the stations.

“Ah, so simple!” She confided that even she often has difficulty navigating the train stations in Tokyo.

The people to my right were opening champagne to celebrate a birthday, and they poured me a glass.

They were excited to hear about my travel itinerary in Japan. One of them said she’s from Nagano. They said Kanazawa is amazing but the Osaka is just like Tokyo. They cautioned me that it would be cold in Nagano, and by the way were you not cold tonight in what you’re wearing now? I said that I like being cold. They seemed flabbergasted by that, so it became a sort of running joke where I just kept insisting that I enjoy being chilled. I do indeed prefer being a bit too cold than sweating because it’s a bit too hot. I explained that’s why I had to get out of Florida. Koume told me about her waterski trip to Pensacola.

I was having so much fun bantering with Koume that I hardly noticed when the other patrons left. I could sense that the other bartenders were starting to do their closing tasks, so I thanked them for a wonderful time and connected with Koume on Instagram. I hope you make it to the City by the Bay some day!