Gooood Morning Vietnam!

Okay. I have to admit. I have been in Disneyland until now. It is another world here. And it started as soon as I stepped out of the airport. Cindy had arranged for the hotel driver to pick me up. And just like Anne the driver had no trouble recognizing me. I was white and my blue eyes were as big as saucers. I was looking at the traffic. I got into the car and we merged, and not a Japanese merge, into something I have never seen before. Trucks, cars, cows, bicycles, rickshaws and motorbikes all on the expressway. Yes expressway. The motorbikes and bicycles were loaded with everything imaginable and lots of it. One motorbike had chickens,lots of chickens. Chickens on the back in cages, chickens on the sides in bags and chickens hanging upside down on the handlebars ( their feet tied to make the loop). Motorbikes had construction materials on them; bricks, steel re-bar in ten foot lengths,marble slabs, or lumber enough to build a shed. Some motorbikes had three people, groceries and tonights not yet dead dinner. Cows were mostly on the sides of the road though not always. The drivers use their horns as turn signals. If any of them want to go around another car they honk until either the car moves over or, they themselves get past. They honk when they are turning a corner, or going through an intersection. Oh yeah intersections; no lights, no signs, no signals, no hesitation by any drivers, riders or cows. Yes that means that everyone is going all directions at one time. Left turns, right turns, u- turns and of course forward. It's kind of like stirring soup. At one point during the drive my driver could not pass on the right because there was to much traffic so he went into the on coming traffic lane (full of on coming traffic) beeped his horn the whole way, passed,and moved back into our lane. My eyes got bigger as I was dropped off at the hotel. The sidewalks were covered, absolutley covered with parked motorbikes, marble carvers, squatting construction workers, vendors, and sidewalk restauraunts, but no people, there wasn't any room. People walked in the streets with the "chaos", and that's exactly what I did next. I had almost a full day before Cindy arrived in Hanoi so I hit the streets trying to act like I knew what I was doing. Then I came to an intersection. I had to enter that intersection chaos. I was brave, undaunted, and I blended right in. I picked a little old lady to follow and when she stepped into the mess, so did I. Just when I thought my eyes could not be more telling, I walked into an open market. OH MY GAWD. Live things soon to be dead, dead things soon to be cut up, and dead things being cut up, their guts in the street. Tongues,livers,kidneys,hearts,legs and ears. Bowls of squirming maggots ready to be roasted, or squirming eels soon to be dinner. A whole roasted pig, no....Fido. I headed back to my room.

I`m ready.

I`m ready to leave Japan. It`s been nice, but I am on my way.

No language barrier here.

I had to break down my bike for the train ride back from Hiroshima. When I got back to Tokyo I needed to put it back together and try to sell it somewhere, somehow. When I tried to put my back wheel on I noticed the chain was all screwed up and the derailuer was a mess as well. I worked with it for awhile but did not have the appropriate tools for the repair. I remembered the store I bought it from had a bike repair shop, so I decide to carry the bike up there and get some help. The guy was gracious enough to take a look right away. He took the chain off, took the derailuer off and futzed around a bit. He signaled to me that the derailuer needed to be replaced. I tried to tell him okay but please put the chain back on, and I will ride the bike as a single speed. He signaled to me, no, that the derailuer needed to be replaced. We began an argument that really did not make any sense because neither one of us understood a word the other was saying. He kept putting up his arms in an X "telling" me nothing could be done. I knew the bike could be made a single speed and I kept signaling to him to PLEASE just PUUT the chain on so I can ride it out of here. He did put the chain on the bike... in a bag. He picked the bike up and carried it out to the street. I followed him. He set the bike down and stared at me, and then pointed down the street. I said with a smile " no really I think we can work this out". He stared at me and then pointed down the street more emphatically. I asked him if he wanted to but the bike. It was pretty clear. I picked up my bike and walked.

Tidbits on Japan

I pulled up to an intersection early one morning and a truck packed with 8 or 9 Japanese pulled up next to me. They were eyeing me cautiously. I smiled. A few of them raised their hands slowly,barely, their fingers just above the window opening.I bowed and said "ohiyo", or good morning. One girl claps her hands and says "ohiyo" back. Then the whole truck is in an uproar of good mornings and laughter. The light changes and they begin to pull away. I raise my hand and yell "syanora". Now their hands are above the window, out the window and they are bowing and yelling "syanora". Good chit man. Good chit. I am at a rest stop and I am frazzeled. I have been lost, I have been in terrible traffic and now ahead of me is construction. I am also looking at tunnels. Lots of them. Narrow tunnels. With trucks. Loud trucks. Fast trucks. Big trucks. Mean trucks that make mash potatoes out of cyclists. There is a woman at the rest stop making and handing out tea. She brings a cup over to me and "asks" me what I am doing. I show her on the map. She raises her eyebrows.....I "ask" her about the tunnels. Another woman comes over. They disscuss the tunnels. She brings a cup of tea. They assure me the tunnels will be okay but wave their hands behind their rear ends and then hold their nose. The first woman brings me a roll and places it my hands. The last supper? They again assure me the road is "okay, okay" for bikes. I am refreshed and am able to start out again. Of course they were wrong about the roads but their assurances got me started again. I was bicycling up a slope and passed several school boys about 11 years old. They start some kind of chatter that sounds like they are egging someone on to race me. I swing my arm around to signal "come on" and the race is on. One of them and I start up the hill neck and neck, the other boys are cheering from behind. We weave in and out of another crowd of kids. Of course he gets me on the weave. More cheers. I get cut off at a narrow place and he beats me to the light. These little stories and more are why I bike through the country side.

She had her eye on me too.

The Japanese are amazing cyclists. Everyone cycles. I regularly see men and women over 60 adeptly bicycling through the crowds. I see old men in suits, young men in suits, and middle aged men in suits riding their bicycles. Women in heels and in the latest fashion. Mothers ride with their front basket full of groceries, a kid in front of them, but behind the handle bars and a kid on the back. Amazing. Iv`e seen guys who collect cans with a load on their bike 4 foot wide and 2 feet above their head on the back and another bag about that big on the front. All the cyclists travel in,with and among each other with incredible agility,ease and predictability. That predictability thing is important. Yesterday I was headed for a bridge. The sidewalk on the bridge was for pedestrians AND cyclists. A concrete barrier was on the left and a guard rail on the right. Regular size sidewalk and people are going every which way at speed. I tried to merge onto the bridge with the crowd but at the very last minute... I chickened out. I stopped. Voided the merge. I also jammed up traffic five and six bikes back; created a pile up. I was thankful for the language barrier once again. I finally got on the bridge. People were passed each other within inches. I cringed as people on bikes passed walkers, came right at me and at the very last moment, with ease and grace, they glided on by. No facial expression,no cringe,no exchange of bows to indicate who should go first or stop or anything. I in the meantime involuntarily lifted my hand off the near side handle bar, flinched, sucked my shoulder in and tried not to say " whoa whoa whoa". Before I started across the bridge I had noticed a tiny tiny elderly woman on her bike in the middle of all this controlled chaos. She had to have been in her seventies and could not have weighed more than 85 pounds. She had a bunch of flowers in her front basket along with a few groceries. She had gone ahead of me on the bridge. I had opted to be the last rider onto the bridge so that I could wimper and flinch in relative obscurity. I lost sight of her on the bridge but as we all piled up at the end I noticed her again. She moved ahead of me; she was better on the merge. I caught up to her on a straight away, passed her, then had to stop to adjust my seat. She glided on by. I passed her again on a uphill only to have my load shift; so I stopped and she... glided on by. It got crowded at another intersection and I lost her. As the crowds thinned out further down the road there she was. Now I am not saying I was being competitive with an elderly woman on a Ozzie and Harriet bike but, well, she was impressive. And dammit she was ahead of me. I did pass her again only to have to stop. I pulled my bike close to me. I smiled and said "Gomen na sai" or " excuse I`m an idiot". She smiled and rolled on by. I watched her as she went. Incredible. She was so tiny and damn old to be on a bike but she was slow and steady for sure. She dissappeared beyond a curve and I figured she was gone. I took a drink, tied my shoes and started off again. I was going uphill on the sidewalk. It is a tight fit. It got crowded again. I weaved and cringed. Stop,go,stop,go, shuffle shuffle. As I came through a crowd there she was on the corner. She was shopping at an outdoor market. I began to pass and as I did she caught my eye, smiled,waved and said "bye bye".

I didn`t have much to write about;then it rained.

　I came into a town for the night and could not find a hotel( I could not find my own ass in Japan) so I opted for the beach. I found a park and headed to the far end near a sea wall. People were walking and running at the park so it seemed pretty safe. I was getting my stuff out, had leveled a place in the sand to sleep on and was beginning to cook dinner when a woman ran by and stopped at the wall to rest. In an attempt to "talk" with her I clapped my hands and said " good job". Now all conversations in Japan have really been a game of charades. The people who were supposed to have spoken English in Japan lived somewhere else. Any time I say " she or he said" they really just acted it out, and so did I. This leaves lots of room for assumption and misinterpretation. So any way. She "asked" what I was doing, I showed her on a map. She raised her eyebrows, made a surprised look on her face. She "asked" where I would sleep. I showed her my place on the beach. She cocked her head. I shrugged.　She left. I cooked. That is a "conversation". About an half hour later she came back with her mother and two of her mother`s friends. They were trying to tell me something. They all kept pointing to their noses and pointing somewhere down the beach. I had seen people point to their nose, actually touch or smash their nose while talking to me. I always thought, "I must have something in my nose" or " boy these people are not shy about telling you you have something in your nose". But this time they all were telling me I had something in my nose, and it must have been really big. Then it dawned on me. We point to our chest to indicate ourselves; they point to their nose. Thank God, I had not had a booger after all. They were adament about me going with them, somewhere. I stopped cooking dinner, packed up and followed them to a ...pavillion. Ahhh, I remembered it might rain sometime this week.　This pavillion was good but was very visible to the public. And I didn`t like it. But it was shelter and there were bathrooms nearby, so I stayed. Turned out this was the local place for truckers and the like to get some sleep, go to the bathroom and otherwise cavort around. I was up all night peering out of the screen on my tent. A car pulled in, the guy got out changed into pajamas and got back in to sleep. A van pulled in, very close to me, the guy got out, made a bed in the back, arranged some things and got back in,turned on the radio and closed the door. Cars pulled in, people got out; they went to the restrooms, they stretched, they walked around. One guy dissappeared then later tripped over my tent stake out strings. I jumped out and yelled at him; he "asked" me if I would like to take a shower with him. I put my forearms up in a big X and yelled "NO". Chit. As soon as dawn came, I got up and started my coffee. The guy in the van also got up about that time. He stretched, peed, scratched his... head and started his breakfast. I watched him. He had a van much like Stephens. He didn`t have it organized as well but he was ahead of his time in Japan. He was cooking out of the side of the van on top of the bed. He had things piled way to high and precariously. He had it all wrong. I was "changing" the design in his van when he started my way. Oh Chit. I had been staring. I had given him an opening. I smiled to hide my fear; and he asked me to... breakfast. "I`ll be damned this can`t be happening again." I accepted of course. Then it started raining. After breakfast he invited me to go for a ride to a park.. or somewhere. I stashed my bike, jumped in the van with him and his friend who had joined us for brekkie and we headed up into the mountains in the pouring down rain.They took me to the number one temple in Japan, the number one waterfall in Japan, and to a 1000 year old tree,all of which just happened to be in that area. Amazing chit mate. We spent about three hours walking around in the rain. Then of course it was "beer o`clock". We headed to the grocery. He came out with veggies,miso,noodles,chicken,sake... and beer. It was also lunch time. We parked underneath the expressway for shelter from the still pouring rain, and he proceeded to cook the most amazing Japanese meal. All I could do was shake my head. There I am at beer o`clock, underneath the expressway, with two people I just met,in a van, having a wonderful meal,drinking beer and sake and I am in; Japan. During lunch he tried to tell me something. He started with the nose thing, then pointed to town, then he made this gesture,undeniably a ....sexual gesture with his hands. I jumped up,crossed my forearms and said "NO". He put his head in his hands, shook his head and undoubtedly thought the exact same thing... NO. We finally worked out that he was going to be with his girlfriend that night and that, since it was raining, I could use his van for sleeping. (See what I mean about misinterpretations?) His girlfriend however it turned out wanted to meet me and wanted me to spend the night. After lunch and after a visit to a bar we headed over to his girlfriends house. More charades, more gesturing, but I do hear one word I recognize. "Onsen". Yeah we are going to go to the public bath house. The woman dissappears for awhile then comes out does the nose thing, points to me then the door. I gather up my underwear, socks, toothbrush and clean shirt and excitedly follow her out the door。We head down an alley, turn right to another alley, and left around the corner of a building and go in. I`m in the grocery store. Chit. I`m in the grocery store with my clean socks, underwear, shirt and toothbrush. I put my stuff in the basket, we pick up groceries and head back to the house and she makes the most delicious Japanese meal I have ever had. THEN we head to the onsen. When we get to the onsen she tells me to go on in like I know what I am doing. She has to stop at the toilet. I head down the hall,take a deep breath, turn right and push open a door and enter a room with about 6 half clad to naked ,tiny ,Japanese women. They stop talking and stare. I am immediately aware of how big I am. Big. I feel like Shrek. I bumble around. I take off my clothes, slowly, very slowly and stand big and naked at the edge of the room. My friend comes in, points me to the onsen and gets ready herself. I enter the onsen. More naked women. It is a long narrow room with the hot spring baths along one long wall and 4 feet away another long wall full of shower hoses and very tiny stools with soap and shampoo next to each. I sit down in full view of everyone.( The Japanese do not have the issues we have about nudity.) I take the shower hose off the wall and begin to wet myself down. It is not to long before my shower head falls off and I begin spraying everyone in the hot spring bath behind me. Chit. I slap my hand over the open end and promptly begin spraying everyone beside me. Chit! I take my hand back off the hose and while spraying everyone behind me I get the water turned off. All in one rainy day.

In the meantime...

Here's some foot tappin' entertainment for y'all...

The Language Barrier

Hi all, Cindy here. Tracy wanted me to let you all know that she is fine. She is making her way SouthWest through Japan by bicycle. When she last called she was just outside of Hamamatsu (I may be spelling that wrong, sorry), which is on the the Southern coast. She is having quite a challenge navigating the roads when she can't read the signs or the map. It is truly difficult matching up those symbols.
She said "As technologically advanced as Japan is there aren't any internet cafes around... or at least if there are I can't tell."
In true Tracy form though, she is meeting some wonderful people. But she is spending a lot of energy staying off of expressways and avoiding trucks (they don't seem to know the meaning of "ding, ding").
She plans to continue on to Hiroshima (through Osaka) where she will then take a train back to Tokyo. She wanted you to know she will spend October 26 blogging and emailing aplenty. Then October 27th it's on to Vietnam! "Yea!!", I say since I will be meeting her there for 3 weeks. We're not sure how updating will go. We will try to update often. I believe you may get both Japan and Vietnam pictures together.

p.s. If you click on the map below to see it bigger Hamamatsu is where the number 23 is, Osaka, I believe, is to the right of orange dot number 2 (or therebouts anyway) with Hiroshima to the left of orange dot number 2, and Tokyo is just south of the number 4 in that little crook of a bay area, just to give you an idea of the ground Tracy is covering.

Last glimpse.

Cindy put the last set of photos on the "Australia" blog I just recently posted. She as usual did a great job.

If you want to see the last batch of Australia photos just click on the post titled "Australia" in the blog archive to the right.

Lesson 7: Not everyone has ice cream trucks.

Anne and I spent the day in the city. It was hot. I have not yet experienced a seasonal change so my brain registered this hot day as a summer day. On our last stop we had to hunt for a spot to park and to do so we made our way through a neighborhood. Children were playing and hustle and bustle was all around. We got out of the car and were walking down the street; sweating, talking and moving our way to the store. All of the sudden I heard an ice cream truck. Unbelievable. They have ice cream trucks in Japan? Now I thought this was strictly an American thing. I listened again. Yes, it was that music box sound. High pitched,crackly,and recognizable only as the ice cream truck music. Then I smelled wood smoke. Wow did that smell good. But my brain was thinking ice cream,and it was counting yen. It was arguing with itself over chocolate and vanilla bars or soft and creamy cones, maybe a popsicle. I hadn`t had a popsicle from a truck in years. Then I spotted the truck, it was on our street and coming at me. Hot damn, I`m going to get a soft cream twist. Then I smelled wood smoke. The truck was just as you would imagine; small with those sides that are up, open and ready for business. I waved the truck down; big smile, appreciative bow. As the truck turned the corner and stopped,I saw an open fire in the back, a stack of wood on the side, and a grill full of foil wrapped somethings. "Kon-ni-chi-wa" "Kon-ni-chi- wa" Bow. Bow. He hands me one, takes his 500 yen, and I walk away with a... potato. Chit. A potato truck.

Lesson 6: More on Toileting

1. I was right, it IS a backsplash. 2. In Japan, don`t look under the door to see if someone is in the stall.

Lesson Five: I really can`t read this chit.

I am going to bike from Tokyo to Hiroshima, I think. I got the maps out and I can see there are roads I should be following, but I can`t read the map. Oh yeah, there is a number on the road, but quite often there are two roads with the same number. There is an explaination but I can`t read that either. Chit I thought, instead I should try to go to the city and figure my way for a bit, see what happens. Do you know what it is like to not understand a word, let alone a syllable of someone`s language? Well it was never so poignant to me than when I was in Tokyo. A stupified look though, is universal.

Lesson Four: Standard Equipment

I got my bike fixed up and ready to go about 6 this eve. It was about dark, Anne had to leave the house for a few hours and I wanted to go for a ride. Anne told me where a park was, the old Olympic park of 1964, told me there was a 2k path around the park and said it would be safe. Good enough for me. On the way there I met a woman feeding cats. She spoke English enough to tell me that she was feeding and trying to spay and nueter 50 cats and had had a garage sale all weekend to raise money. I was able to pet a few catties and then of course gave a minor donation and was on my way. Got to the park and it was crowded. Japanese crowded. People everywhere, going every which way. The first thing I do is run into somebody`s dog who had walked out in front of me. (No worries mates, no damage done.) I was grateful for the language barrier. Not 3 minutes down the path someone else pulls out in front of me on a bike. Alright I think, I`ll start saying something. I clear my throat. They don`t notice. I say " on your left"( oh yeah they understood that). I say "hi". Well that means yes in Japanese, so that doesn`t work. None of it was working very well. Then I noticed they were all using bells. "Chit", I thought, I should have bought one of those. So I start saying "ding ding". People are everywhere remember. I am quite often saying " ding ding". This works but people are looking at me funny. (I don`t have a bell alright? No bell.) A half hour of "ding ding" goes by and I think " I am definitely getting one of those bells". I had seen a Hello Kitty bell at the shop earlier and I thought about getting that one " ding ding ". I thought about when I would have time "ding ding" to go back to the shop. One more purchase and I would be ready "ding ding " for the road. As I was thinking all this, I started to relax on my bike "ding ding" and explore it`s gears and gadgets. It was dark and I was fumbling around. I found a reflector and decided it should be on the back of my bike, I found the shifter cable and thought maybe I should adjust it for easier shifting, then I found this little black ball with a lever. I hit the lever...."ding". Oh. Ding ding:standard equipment.

Lesson Three: I`m big. Japan is small.

I bought a bike in Tokyo so that I could tour here in Japan. I found it in a Japanese K-Mart kind of store. Now this store is "like" a K-Mart. Same amount of stuff, one fifth the floor space. Packed. With the help of Anne I was able to ask a few questions, get some added gear and pick out a particular bike. The guy was very helpful, spent a fair amount of time with me and even gave me some tools for free. We closed the deal and made arrangements to pick up the bike after he added the front basket and rear rack. ( Yes I said basket. Wait until you see this bike.)We do the bowing, thank you and more bowing thing and I picked up my back pack and turned to go. It was at that moment, I don`t know how it happened, but I guess when I turned to go my backpack hit a row of bikes. There were about fifteen bikes in this row. They all went down. Crap. More bowing, apologizing, bowing, thank you`s and more bowing. My seat post is to short on this bike ( surprise surprise) and the " K-Mart " does not have a longer seat tube. So Anne and I have to head to a local bike shop. She explains to the bike shop guy what I need and he scratches his chin, thinks, then gestures to go by me. I step back, directly into a box that grabs my foot and hangs on. I, of course, begin to fall and take two or three giant steps with the box on my foot. As I turn to catch my balance I begin knocking things off shelves with my backpack. More bowing, apologizing, bowing, and picking up.

Japan: Lesson two. Toileting

I did not anticipate this being a lesson.I had done my research and I had a plan.I would tackle the problem in the Tokyo airport. Turns out in the airport you are given a choice: Western or Japanese style. (They break us in gently.) I chose the japanese style,patted myself on the back for bravery and stepped in ready to go. The toilet is just a shallow trench on the floor, oblong; but not what you think. The hole goes ACROSS the stall. In addition on one end there is a .... hump. It is as if there is half an empty walnut shell sitting there. So I wondered; which way does ol` one eye go? I tried both ways. What was most weird about it all; I was sideways in the stall. I decided to use the walnut shell as a "backsplash" and wa la it was done. Until the coins fell out of my pocket. Damn. I read about this. I gave Japan the 250 yen. I think it is a conspiracy. Then came the flush. It was so weird to watch a toilet flush sideways across the ..... floor. No swirl,no rim,no protection. I mean, what if you had a wild one? No wonder they take their shoes off at the door. Luckily I had a long wait for the bus at the airport so I got to pratice this ritual several times. I got relatively comfortable with the whole thing and was ready for my stay in Japan. By the time I got to Anne`s apartment it was late. We did the chit chat thing and then they showed me my bed and the toilet. I looked in. Hot damn! A western style toilet. They head to bed and I head to the bathroom. I sit down. I notice the toilet seat is warm. Very warm. That`s when I remembered. Japanese take their western style automated toilets very seriously. Yes I said automated. And the automation can be sophisticated. Very sophisticated. I got nervous. I sighed. I slowly turned to the wall on my right.I looked up. It looked like NASA control center. All in Japanese. I got more nervous. I looked down. Another panel. CHIT! I count the options. Thirty one buttons! Two readable screens. I stand up. I remember some of those options and I`m not having it. I back away, I pause, close one eye and begin pushing. First button; nothing happens. I wondered what I missed. I feel lucky. I push another. I hear wind chimes but get no flush. Next button; I hear a flush but don`t get one. I look for clues and notice the control panel opens. I pull up the flap. Pictures! Fan spray. Narrow spray. Jet spray. Interesting. Air dry. Air dry? Oh my gawd; air dry. I give up and go to bed.

Japan: Lesson One. We are not the only ones in this world.

I was fortunate enough to have someone meet in Tokyo. Cindy had a family member named Anne that lives in Tokyo and was kind enough to not only meet me but to let me stay with her and her husband. Cindy went to lengths to make sure things went well. Anne was patient with my many changes of plans. She eventually, once I had a confirmed flight, was able to tell me what public transportation to take to her apartment once in Tokyo. Cindy sent Anne pictures of me so that Anne could easily recognize me when I got off what was promised to be a crowded bus. I was happy about that because, well, I was a little nervous without my gypsies around. What Anne later told me was she could not understand why we thought she needed pictures of me, she said I was easy to recognize. It was then that I realized I was the ONLY big, tall, white, blue eyed, blonde on the bus. Thank God Anne had pictures.

Australia

Autralia was a backdrop to my experience with the gypsies. Kaya,Jack,Melanie,Antony,Sylvan,Christoph, Yuka and of course Stephen. I only saw a fraction of the country with them but in that I saw another world. I saw croc`s and coral,heard cockies and kookabooros,learned about roo`s and rainforests and learned more about friendships. It`s funny how you can refine revelations time and again. Who would I be writing to if it weren`t for you guys back home? Who would I tell these stories to? Who would I think about during a beautiful sunset or a poignant moment if it were not for my friends and family? Australia was more than I thought it could be. Sharing this experience with all of you has been even bigger.I have dreamt of traveling for years; I can`t thank you guys enough for sharing this with me. It is all of you that has made the difference.

More Australia photos

It has proven to be a challenge for Tracy to find a computer in Tokyo with an english operating system and keyboard. You think you know your menus... Anyway, until she can get to a computer that understands her I will entertain you with still more photos from Australia. Here are Steven's photos from Cairns and the Daintree forest. He is quite a good photographer and there are some gems in this batch, so even though some of the subject matter is the same the photos are really nice to see (and there are a few more with Tracy in them). Also, here are photos from the dive trip. Really cool. And finally, if you remember Tracy talking about a guy named George she met who gave her a CD of his sunset photos now you can see those sunsets. They are amazing. All of the slideshows need to be started by hand since there are a few here together. Same with the music. Just click the play arrow above the slideshow you are looking at. (And as always you can click on the slideshow to go see the photos larger and longer.)

Tokyo bound

Tracy's flying to Tokyo right now. (10:30pm our time).