Archive for the ‘jamaican in japan’ Tag

Throwback Thursdays: My First Time in Tokyo   Leave a comment

This is the first of a series of “throwback thursday” posts, where I will share pictures from the past, in no particular order. The first time I went to Tokyo was pretty amazing in terms of the size of the city, the lights, the people and the places I saw. Depending on the photo, i’ll give a little bit of backstory. All these photos were taken with a Nikon D40, with the kit lens! I suggest clicking on the pictures to see the larger, sharper resolution versions. Enjoy and please comment!

throwbakthur101The first thing I saw coming into Tokyo was the tower. Awesome feeling.

throwbakthur103I can’t state how overwhelming it was to be at the Shibuya crossing. To see so many thousands of people just roaming about was interesting to say the least.

throwbakthur104Here’s a cool little game you can play. Can you count all the people looking at the camera as I took the picture?

throwbakthur105Big in Japan.

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throwbakthur108This is a  nighttime shot taken in Shinjuku. My friend and I did the “Shinjuku hustle”. Basically we went to an internet Cafe where you can pay 300 yen per hour to use internet. We chilled there for a bit, put our stuff in a locker and then came back in the morning and crashed for the same price. Cheap accomodations!

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throwbakthur119My first time in Harajuku and I meet this dude. He was cool enough to snap a picture with me.

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throwbakthur123That isn’t a mannequin. Well Batman is a mannequin, but the Power Ranger rocking the purple afro was quite human.

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throwbakthur129I love the crispness of Shinjuku architecture.

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This last picture is of me in the bus heading back to where I lived (before eventually moving to Tokyo). Of course if you want to get deeper into Tokyo, you can checkout my Tokyo based novel, Naked As The Day to dive deeper into  the city of lights.

I hope you liked this blog! Follow me on Twitter, watch my videos on YouTube and grab a copy of my novel Sex, Drugs and Jerk Chicken or my other novel, Naked As The Day

 

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Untitled Design: My tokyo Pecha Kucha Presentation   Leave a comment

I’m happy to announce, that my 2010 Tokyo Pecha Kucha Night presentation titled “Untitled Design” is now live at their official website. Do let me know your thoughts on the presentation when you get a chance to view it! Thanks in advance. You can check it out here. http://pecha-kucha.org/presentations/216 or you can click the images below.

If you haven’t already, please follow me on Facebook and Twitter!

Published!!   Leave a comment

To all who have been reading my blog over the last two or three years, some of you know I started this as an outlet for writing about the process of getting published. In fact, you read my very blog posts, it’s actually about getting a literary agent, sending out packets, etc… which i never really did that much hehe. Either way, I haven’t been updating at much because I’ve been spending a lot of time blogging while i”m in Japan at my other site, Jamaican in Japan dot com. But i am pleased to say that I have been published here in a literary journal called Yomimono! So it’s amazing for me to be able to share this with you guys. I will try to write the occasional anecdote every now and then.

You can also checkout an interview I did on her website here.

cheers!

5 Questions for Marcus Bird   Leave a comment

As some of you know, I’m a writer. I’ve been fortunate to have my short story “Gaijin Girl”, published in Suzanne Kamata’s 2010 edition of her Japan-based literary Journal, Yomimono.

This is a short interview I did for her blog.  Click the picture to read the interview! Please comment! Arigato!

Suzanne Kamata is the author of Losing Kei (Leapfrog Press, 2008), the editor of Love You to Pieces: Creative Writers on Raising a Child with Special Needs (Beacon Press, May 2008) and Call Me Okaasan: Adventures in Multicultural Mothering (Wyatt-Mackenzie Publishing, 2009)

Marcus Bird’s “GAIJIN GIRL” Ebook, Great in-flight reading   Leave a comment

This is a collection of short stories that span the globe from Jamaica to Japan. Please read the story when you get a chance, and feel free to e-mail me feedback at the address included in the ebook sampler. Thanks in advance.

http://www.scribd.com/doc/28255995/Gaijin-Girl-Ebook

Hot Japanese Mom & The Ribbon Girl   1 comment

A Daquiri, I say, Is a sweet drink. It usually has strawberries in it, or some kind of fruit. You blend it with vodka, ice and a little sugar. In front of me, nodding and somewhat understanding, is a bartender at Planet Café. I’ve been trying to explain for roughly twelve minutes what a Daquiri is.

I’m here on a Sunday, and I feel bored, even though my day has consisted of watching Terminator: Salvation at noon, passing through a barbeque with some friends and hitting up a video arcade. My city restlessness has a new face.
At the bar are a few people from the reggae parties I’ve seen around. A DJ from the T.P sound system crew, his girl and Gully. I order a gin and tonic after giving up on my Daquiri. As the bartender made my drink, he laughed and asked me to write down the ingredients for the Daquiri. I’m waiting on Ribbon girl, the one I met at the party last night. We chatted on the phone briefly after I went to my Barbeque. When I spoke to her, a twinge of excitement had trickled through me when her number popped up on my phone. At the time I was sitting on the sidewalk, chatting to a friend about nothing in particular.

 
I took a sip of my drink, when a flurry of activity beside me grabbed my attention. Two gorgeous girls with slim bodies and long brown hair came to the bar coasting on a sea of giggles. I thought one of them was a girl I met the night before, at the reggae party.

“Hug.” I said.

Nani?” (what?)she replied.

I said it again, more Japanesey. “HUG-OO.” I said. She hugged me, and then I realized I’d never met her. I also realized in the same thought she was very drunk. Japanese girls never hug guys they don’t know. Unless of course, you are famous.
“Hi.” She said exasperatedly.
“Hey.” I replied.
She was pretty, with movie actress looks and flawless skin. She wore a stylish outfit that screamed high fashion. Her friend smiled as I talked to her, but chatted to one of the bartenders and left us alone.
“Where you from?” she said.
“Jamaica.” I replied.
“Really?” she said.
She said this with absolute surprise, in the way a child who swore he failed a test  realizes he actually received an A. I told her I was a designer. Incidentally, I was wearing one of my own shirts.
“I want to buy one.” She said, rubbing my chest. “I am a mother!” she exclaimed triumphantly.
“Very cool.” I said. “One child?”
“Yes, I have one. But I am twenty-one!”
She said this with a bright expression. I held her hand and without getting up, beckoned her to twirl. “Very nice.” I said.
She was. If she hadn’t told me she had a kid, it would be impossible to tell.
“You think I am nice?” she asked. Her eyes were filled with desire.
“Yes, you are.” I replied.
A part of me wanted to exploit this situation, but as a rule, I never like drunk women. The only way it works is if I’m equally drunk when I meet them, but at present I was stone cold sober. Having a sexy mother of one on my speed dial would be cool, but alas, Ribbon girl would arrive any minute.
I was right. In the periphery of my vision, I glimpsed her. She was looking very cute, with huge designer glasses. She wore a black and white dress over a pair of tight jeans. I could see the taper of her body through the layers. She had lip gloss on and a purse that resembled a ribbon. The theme continued.
I saw her pause as she said hello to some of the people from last night. Her eyes were on me, but I didn’t move. I’m not the type to play too many headgames, I was just observing.
The hot mom disappeared with a guy onto the the dance floor, and I turned to Ribbon girl. “Hey! You been here long?” I said. She walked over. She gave me a weak hug and stood by the bar. Close up, I could see the glow of the bar lights on her lips. She put her bag down. She seemed a little nervous. I chatted to her about my day and ask her some questions about herself.
“I don’t do much.” She replied. ” I just like to dance.”
Ah, I said in my mind. She’s a party girl.
I’ve messed with party girls before. One word always comes to mind when I think of a party girl.

 
Dangerous.

 
Party girls always seem to have nothing to do, are often sexy and probably slept with a few guys you’ve met before if you go out a lot. This generally means it’s a bad idea to think you’re special if she likes you. Sometimes this can change after a few sexual encounters, but not always.
She reached into her bag and pulled out a small camera. The LCD flashed brightly as it came on. With her glasses and jeans, she looked like a shadow of herself the night before.  The image of her leaping on me, her face pressing against my neck and the smell of her shampoo flooded my senses quickly. It faded quickly, like a puff of cigarette smoke.
She showed me pictures of her in Jamaica. “Maji de??”(Really?) I said. Then I remembered somewhere between tequila shot eight or nine she had mentioned living in Jamaica for a month. Through her pictures I was catapulted back home. I saw the bright glowing faces of people with dark skin and short curly hair. She showed me the hot spots; Stone Love’s headquarters for Weddy Wednesdays, Lime Quay beach for Sunday afternoon, Devon house for tasty ice cream, and more. There were pictures with famous Jamaicans, and a few of her Japanese friends going wild at big parties, like Passa Passa.
I playfully joked with her, but she was shy, different. She ordered Chozou, a popular drink (sake mixed with water). I didn’t know why she was nervous. After she put the camera back into her bag, her entire focused drifted to the UNO game the people beside us were playing. I hinted a few times at going to dance, but she kept saying she was watching the game.
That’s an incredibly fascinating game of UNO, I thought to myself. Then I remembered. She was a party girl. I’m new to the scene. Disappearing with her on the dance floor might put her on the bad news bus. While we were looking at the pictures, she mentioned some party on Friday she was going to. She watched the UNO game, and I sat, bored on the stool. I got up and left.
As I exited the bar, before the door close I heard my name. In a movie-scene way, the door slammed in front of her as I glimpsed her looking at me.
“I see you Friday night?” she said.
“Yes.” I replied.
She went inside. I laughed a little, because she had practically chased me out of the bar. Party girls are different, I thought. I left the underground passage leading out of Planet and heading outside, back into the nighttime and towards the bowels of the city.

/* Blog reposted from my other site www.jamaicaninjapan.com */

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