Fam Jams in Tokyo

I’m Gem. 

When I hear those three letters, I know that someone in my family – Mom, Dad, uncles, aunts, cousins or the little ones – are beckoning. (My brother still calls me by my full given name. No reason, we just like it like that). 

Most recently, I have noticed that two or three friends out here in Japan have started calling me “Gem,” too, so it’s nice to hear some times! But overall, I feel most comfortable when I hear my fam call me "Gem."

[My given name includes five letters - a combination coined from my parents first names. I divulged this information to some of my students last month, writing "G+Emma" on the blackboard. They hissed, "Kakkoiii" or something to that effect.]

Last weekend, I got back to my roots. I had a touch of nostalgia after spending the weekend with one of my cousins. He now lives in Tokyo, so I quickly took up his invitation to come visit his new place tucked away in Harajuku. 

I am extremely happy to have some family in Japan! If you know me, you fully understand that I love famjams. The food. The inside jokes. The munchkins crawling your lap, begging you to play DS with them. (Actually, the older munchkins must be 11 or 12 now. Time flies, eh). It’s a beautiful thing. So, I was craving a “cousin weekend.”

After hopping on a shink and a subway, I finally got to his local subway station on Saturday afternoon. Amidst the crowds, I heard: “Hey, Gem! It looks like Japan has been treating you well!” I never fathomed I’d be walking down Tokyo streets with my cousin. Life is great like that, eh. 

It was such a breath of fresh air to reminisce with a family member, someone who knew me during my awkward stages in childhood. I haven’t seen M. in years, especially since we are only second-degree cousins. But over the weekend, we were able to delve way back into our memories.

We recalled that we have the same birthday. His family gave me a birthday present when I was a kid – I distinctly remember it was a white long-sleeved shirt, emblazoned with a cartoon picture of Quebec pop sensation, Mitsou. He tutored me in high school calculus, a course that I took for “fun.” (I didn’t need the math credit, but my guidance counselor highly recommended that I take calculus so that I could take math for “fun.”) I think I went through two or three tutors, including my cousin, but I still barely passed that course. Yay.

I asked him an innocent question: “Do you like cats?” And he answered positively, even mentioning he wanted to visit a cat café. When I was about to suggest a place in his neighbourhood, he was already on the ball and told me that the business had closed down. Obviously, I knew of another one and so we checked the cat café in Ikebukuro instead. My favourite cat had to be a short, stumpy orange-whitish cat. He bears a striking resemblance to Garfield. He was really low to the ground, and his face looked like it was smushed. How adorable, right?

Before setting out for dinner, I insisted on taking photos of us posing around his new house. And he was like “Wow, this is so Filipino!” HAHA! NATSUKASHII. And I was to see that my signature peace pose (the very Asian trend of flipping up the peace sign at every photo op) has caught on with my cousin. So much win.

In the evening, we tucked into our steaks at the Outback Steakhouse in Shibuya. We even sat at the same table where Roretta-chan , Jam C. and I dug into our steaks in the fall. And this point, I joked with him that our conversation had turned into one of those motivational after school specials. But he did share some wise words, and I guess you could say his talk rubbed off on me. I mean, I dusted off my old study guides for the French language proficiency test. (I haven't quite cracked them open, though.) And I even started looking up practice tests for the public service jobs back home. 

The night progressed as we ran into my friends walking down Center Gai in Shibuya. We ended up climbing seven flights of stairs, complete with rickety handrailings and precariously open picture windows. We indulged in 90 minutes of nomihoudai, thusly showing my cousin that FuJETs (and a couple of straggler Aussie boys from my friends' hostel) know how to party. 

We capped off the night with a quick venture into the seedy club, Gas Panic. It was hot and smoky, but it at least introduced me to the Black Eyed Peas' latest tune: "The Time."


Thanks for the good times, Tokyo.