Chayamachi

Winter in the hood is dark and depressing – moreover the constant see-sawing between dry, harsh blowing winter winds and incessant torrential downpours is anything but nice to my hair. In a moment that made me seriously question my sexuality, I found myself looking up the Japanese phrase for “split ends” (“枝毛” – “edage” for those of you who care) the other day so I could go somewhere and have them trimmed – the big bushy pseduo mulfro (half mullet, half ‘fro) I have going on is starting to resemble a duct-taped racoon with more accuracy than I’m comfortable with.

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My quest for a healthier, less frightening panda mane not withstanding, I decided to try and do something to break out of my funk, and grabbed my camera earlier in the week and went down to one of the two teahouse districts in town and snapped a few pictures during a break from the all pervading gray gloom and sodden rainfall. You can view the rather unspectacular results here and after the jump. It’s frustrating, because you have to carefully frame each shot so as to avoid including the depressing mess of concrete, corrugated tin panels and power lines that this country has draped around every other corner. There’s nothing more depressing than looking at a wonderful glossy cover on a tourist brochure, then getting to the place and realizing what looked like a picturesque preserve of traditional beauty and isolation was actually a clever slight-of-lens obfuscating the hulking blights of modernity sprawled out all over the place. Sadly, in this country, one rather quickly comes to expect that sort of thing to be the rule, rather than the exception.

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That’s it for now. More pictures after the jump.

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Now listening to: Gigi D’Agostino – “L’Amour Toujours”