Let’s put it this way – within 12 hours of being here we had already changed our plane ticket to stay an extra week. Tokyo is everything we imagined it to be and more. The vastness of this city is incomprehensible. Nothing in the US, not even Manhattan, is remotely comparable. Just check out this map of the subway system. Of course, getting to your stop is only half the battle. Many stations have over 100 different exits, so even if you get to the right one you could still be a mile away from where you are trying to go.

It is also the first place we’ve been that truly does not embrace English. Occasionally the English letters for a subway stop or store name might be included, but generally not. And almost never in restaurants, where it’s rare even to see a picture of the food. You’re basically on your own to point at the strange characters you think look the coolest and hope for the best.

So how does a city with nearly 13,000,000 people function? Perfectly. In a culture where politeness is held above all else, where people are impeccably dressed at all times, where cleanliness is godliness, and respect for others is uncompromised an urban utopia is created. It’s the exact opposite of Bangkok. Men offer subway seats to women and the elderly, litter and graffiti do not exist, cell phones are rarely spoken on in public (texting is king), and fashionable dress is the norm not the exception.

Which brings me to my day of shopping. The “dressy” black shoes I brought weren’t fitting me right so I ditched them in Australia somewhere. Plus I don’t have any decent pants for going out in. Since that is quite frowned upon here, I decided to take the day to wander around Shinjuku and see if I could remedy this situation. Apparently all Japanese men are actually born metrosexual. It’s not uncommon at all to see groups of straight guys giggling like schoolgirls over the latest spring lines. Unfortunately for me, they’re all built like Kate Moss. I went through dozens upon dozens of floors of shopping and did not once, not ONCE, see a waist size over 32. The vast majority of pants are size 28 – a size I haven’t been since I was four years old. I resorted to going up to store clerks and asking “you have fat man sizes?”, to which the answer was always a shake of the head no and then an akward glance down at the floor. One clerk was kind enough to go in the back and find me the one pair of something spandexy he thought might fit me, but I couldn’t get it on past my knees. I ended up at a Timberland store getting a pair of imported khakis.

Tonight we are staying with Yukiko and Ryo, friends of Dave and Belinda who are watching Hank while we are gone (and saving our butts). It will be great to spend some time with locals and learn more than we are able to pick up through the osmosis of being here and making mistakes. More on that later.