8月20日--8月22日
Osaka, Days 4, 5, and 6:
I woke up (***flawless), had breakfast, said goodbye to Happy-chan (such an adorable dog ugh) and my friend’s mother so kindly offered to drive me to my hostel. Once we got there, my friend helped carry my luggage to the hostel as I checked in, and we parted ways.
They were so kind to me during this entire trip, and even offered to drive me back to Kansai International Airport when I eventually leave Osaka on the 24th. I will always be grateful for their warm, accepting attitude and homey environment that they provided to me as I was thousands of miles from my own. They really helped me feel like a part of the family (arguably better so, as they often tended to me and my needs without expecting me to return any of the favors)—a few songs and a box of pineapple cakes will never compare to the amount of gratitude I have for my friend’s family.
As my Japanese skills are very limited (even more so than my Korean, and I just had a Korean phrase book to go off of), my friend had written in a notebook phrases in Japanese characters for things I would eventually need. Things like “where is the bathroom,” “can you help me purchase a subway ticket,” “do you have an English menu,” etc. etc.
Unfortunately, my first few days at the hostel were pretty uneventful. With only a small number of phrases to my disposal, I mainly kept myself to the touristy area of Dotonbori, a fifteen minute walk from my hostel. I would usually just go to convenience stores to pick up beverages, look inside stores to “shop” (use their air conditioning), and a few times I bought some street food like takoyaki and japanese fried chicken.
Osaka, Days 4, 5, and 6:
I woke up (***flawless), had breakfast, said goodbye to Happy-chan (such an adorable dog ugh) and my friend’s mother so kindly offered to drive me to my hostel. Once we got there, my friend helped carry my luggage to the hostel as I checked in, and we parted ways.
They were so kind to me during this entire trip, and even offered to drive me back to Kansai International Airport when I eventually leave Osaka on the 24th. I will always be grateful for their warm, accepting attitude and homey environment that they provided to me as I was thousands of miles from my own. They really helped me feel like a part of the family (arguably better so, as they often tended to me and my needs without expecting me to return any of the favors)—a few songs and a box of pineapple cakes will never compare to the amount of gratitude I have for my friend’s family.
As my Japanese skills are very limited (even more so than my Korean, and I just had a Korean phrase book to go off of), my friend had written in a notebook phrases in Japanese characters for things I would eventually need. Things like “where is the bathroom,” “can you help me purchase a subway ticket,” “do you have an English menu,” etc. etc.
Unfortunately, my first few days at the hostel were pretty uneventful. With only a small number of phrases to my disposal, I mainly kept myself to the touristy area of Dotonbori, a fifteen minute walk from my hostel. I would usually just go to convenience stores to pick up beverages, look inside stores to “shop” (use their air conditioning), and a few times I bought some street food like takoyaki and japanese fried chicken.
There was also a nice grocery store next door to the hostel I was staying at, so I would sometimes buy ingredients to cook at our hostel. I debated visiting Tennoji, but seeing as I had already visited Shinsekai with my friend and already tried kushi-katsu, I didn’t really see the point. I was also nervous because I didn’t know whether or not the subway would be accommodating of silly foreigners like me (I eventually found out that they did).
The first night I ever did anything outside of Dotonbori was on Friday taking the train to Doyama to visit a gay bar.
It was my first gay bar experience (seeing as I’m not old enough yet to frequent bars in the States) and got there reaaallllly early. Like between 8 and 9.
I was the first one there and greeted by the owner, a 44 year old Canadian man who looked like a 22 year old dude from California? But not in a creepy botox-y way. He just looked hella young.
Anyways, I ended up spending the most of my night there as I chatted with him, waiting for more patrons to enter the bar. I originally thought he was in his 20’s, but then he told me he first came to Osaka seventeen years ago (17!). I didn’t have the heart to immediately mention the fact that I was a fresh-faced twenty year old.
Whatever.
More people entered the bar, and even though I haven’t been to too many bars in my life, it just seemed like a regular bar to me? Like nothing about it screamed homosexual to me, besides the pride flag outside. When other patrons came in, we just sat around the bar and ordered drinks and shot the sh*t, so to speak. The guy sitting next to me was a Japanese guy who used to live in San Francisco, and he seemed pretty interested in linguistics as when I told him that I was Filipino, he immediately started talking about the interesting grammar structure of the Tagalog language.
It was pretty cool. A lot of foreigners, though, which is to be expected of a foreigner-friendly gay bar. I kinda side-eyed a couple of white dudes who came in wearing poorly tied yukata… (whatever).
It was my first gay bar experience (seeing as I’m not old enough yet to frequent bars in the States) and got there reaaallllly early. Like between 8 and 9.
I was the first one there and greeted by the owner, a 44 year old Canadian man who looked like a 22 year old dude from California? But not in a creepy botox-y way. He just looked hella young.
Anyways, I ended up spending the most of my night there as I chatted with him, waiting for more patrons to enter the bar. I originally thought he was in his 20’s, but then he told me he first came to Osaka seventeen years ago (17!). I didn’t have the heart to immediately mention the fact that I was a fresh-faced twenty year old.
Whatever.
More people entered the bar, and even though I haven’t been to too many bars in my life, it just seemed like a regular bar to me? Like nothing about it screamed homosexual to me, besides the pride flag outside. When other patrons came in, we just sat around the bar and ordered drinks and shot the sh*t, so to speak. The guy sitting next to me was a Japanese guy who used to live in San Francisco, and he seemed pretty interested in linguistics as when I told him that I was Filipino, he immediately started talking about the interesting grammar structure of the Tagalog language.
It was pretty cool. A lot of foreigners, though, which is to be expected of a foreigner-friendly gay bar. I kinda side-eyed a couple of white dudes who came in wearing poorly tied yukata… (whatever).
It was nice going out, though. I did have to cut the evening a little short as I wanted to catch the last train home, right when things were starting to get a little fun. I had to meet up with a friend for lunch the next day, and as I needed to take a 50 minute bus ride, I figured it would be best to get some rest. I tipped my bartender as one foreigner to another, said I’d try to visit Osaka again in the future, and sauntered to the nearest train station.
I did get hungry on the way back, and picked up some yakisoba at a convenience store. Midnight cravings, what can you do.
I brushed my teeth and knocked out, ready to take my last twenty four hours in Osaka in stride with my new alumnus friend to visit the school he teaches at.
I did get hungry on the way back, and picked up some yakisoba at a convenience store. Midnight cravings, what can you do.
I brushed my teeth and knocked out, ready to take my last twenty four hours in Osaka in stride with my new alumnus friend to visit the school he teaches at.