Dreaming of Tokyo

5 days in Japan left me curious and wanting more

👋 Hi friends, it's Hesam with issue #31 of 4 bits. 4 bits is a biweekly newsletter where I share thoughts and musings on how to build memorable experiences.

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After a summer break, 4 bits is back. I disconnected (mostly) for 3 months. I visited the Netherlands with family, helped facilitate a workshop at my favorite design school with old friends while making new friends, and scoped out a new study abroad opportunity. For my first issue back, I wanted to share my experience seeing a new city: one that I can’t wait to go back to. 

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Tokyo Narita Airport August 2nd, 2:30 pm

I'm not sure what to expect as I step onto the shiny gray high speed train. I'm in Japan for the first time. Struggling to keep my eyes open after a sleepless 13 hour flight, I'm exhausted but excited for the unknown.

Sitting down in my assigned seat waiting for the train to leave, I notice how spacious and clean the train is. It’s different from the grimy surroundings one might expect from a train that serves thousands of airport passengers a day.

As more people start filing in, someone sits next to me. I’m drawn to the two triangles of seaweed wrapped in plastic that they pull out of their bag. Carefully, they open one package after another, finishing each triangle in 3-4 bites, revealing rice and fish in the middle. I can't bring myself to ask them what this triangle is (would they even speak English?), but I hope to try one while I'm here.

Shifting my view to the window, I’m intrigued by the countless large buildings and how the train weaves between them in mid-air. It feels like I'm in some futuristic sci-fi city. 

The days pass and I see more of Tokyo, but I'm still thinking about that triangle on the train. What was it and how do I get one?

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Outside of a 7-Eleven convenience store August 4th, sometime around 1 am

We get dropped off at the hotel after a night in Shinjuku, where bars can only hold 6-10 people at a time, making for an intimate and unusual experience. We’re still feeling electric after being surrounded by the bright neon lights and buzzing activity in Shinjuku. 

Shinjuku, where you’ll find hundreds of bars that seat less than ten people within a few narrow streets.

Compared to where we were moments ago, the dark, monotonous street we're standing in is a sharp contrast. The street is empty except for us.

Hungry for a snack, we head to the 7-Eleven down the street from the hotel. There's a 7-Eleven and Family Mart at nearly every street block. They’re both convenience stores that offer food, drinks, and other goods. While they are competitors, their offerings are relatively the same. I'm still trying to understand how they co-exist with each other.

I'm traveling with two people who lived in Japan before. Over the last few days they've peppered me with information about Japanese culture, traditions, and life. We’re scavenging 7-Eleven for snacks and drinks when suddenly I spot the triangles from the train. I grab a salmon one and meet the others outside. I start unwrapping the triangle when one of my fellow travelers stares at me and says:

Nooooo... what are you doing? That's wrong!

It turns out I was unwrapping the plastic wrapper the wrong way. In Japan, even convenience store food has thoughtful and efficient packaging.

Little did I know that the onigori, or Japanese rice balls, you buy from a convenience store is packaged for optimal taste and texture. The nori seaweed layer is wrapped separately from the rice ball, keeping the seaweed crisp and fresh until you unwrap it. 

But if you unwrap it the wrong way by not following the numbers on the plastic, you'll mess up the shape of the onigori. And I was failing at the task. 

Photo credit: Kisa Toyoshima. The numbers on the packaging indicate the unwrapping order.

After I finished unwrapping the onigori the wrong way, my fellow traveler began to wax poetic about how the Japanese approach is to design everything with precision and perfection in mind. He had a jittery, infectious energy. From the ticket kiosks at the train station to high tech toilets to vending machines to cars, he rattled off one example after another.

Do you know why Japanese cars here are boxy? Because they are engineered to optimize for as much interior space as possible.

Do you know that you can throw a bunch of coins into the train ticket kiosk and it will automatically sort the ones that are needed for your fare and give you back the rest? So you don't have to fumble for exact change when you're on the go.

The list goes on and on.

One might dismiss all these as trivial observations. But the stories behind the details and design decisions are fascinating. A culture with thousands of years of craftsmanship, Japan has so much to be inspired by.

By the time I left Tokyo, I was taken aback by how little I knew and how much was left unexplored.

But that's okay, because it looks like I'm headed back in May to teach a 2 week study abroad course for Rice undergraduate students. It'll be similar to the course I do in Amsterdam. 

Amsterdam and Tokyo within a month of each other? Pinch me, I’m dreaming. And while I’m there, I’ll be using every free moment I have in May to explore Tokyo like a video game, slowly leveling up along the way.

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✨ Special thanks to

Brooke Smith

for feedback and encouragement to help make this first issue back happen.

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