A new experience - the most international district of Tokyo and a meeting place for gaijins looking for a party. Lots of clubs and a slightly different atmosphere. Not so safe anymore - some bums on the streets or aggressive Americans dripping with hormones. On my way to the meeting place I was actually approached by four huge marines asking for directions. '-Excuse me sir, are you American?'. 'No' was obviously a wrong answer: I could see from their faces that they didn't like Europeans. '-Do you know where Roppongi is? Some cubs? Are the girls good?'. These questions gave me a bad feeling about the upcoming night. I met with other Vulcanuses traditionally at Shibuya by the Hachiko statue. Then we were accidentally joined by a Switz and Spanish group some of us had encountered a few days before. Some really nice people working here or travelling around Japan. Then we met with our host: a former Vulcanus student Kuba, now living in Tokyo, and his Japanese and American friends. We started partying at Shibuya, in a European-style restaurant. A few beers later we integrated pretty well and the conversations were led in almost all major world languages. Imagine a drunk and extremely loud group of American, Japanese, English, Scottish, Switz, Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, French and Polish people. Crazy. Moreover, we were sitting by a huge table with da Vinci's 'Last supper' painted on the wall behind us. Must have looked hilarious. Finally we left for Roppongi, where the main course party was about to take place. No night trains in Japan - we had to take taxis.
At the site we were joined by other Polish and Japanese friends. The huge group of people entered an even bigger club. A four storey party palace with its main dance floor in the basement, a bar on each floor and a special quiet roof terrace with sofas for smooth and private conversations. Fountains, sculptures, lights and music. Each room with it's own giant black bodyguard in a perfect suit. Most of them from USA or Jamaica. The prices were sky high and we spent a small fortune on entrance fees and other pleasures. Speaking of which, the place was stuffed with Japanese women with the sole purpose of meeting a handsome rich gaijin, preferably American, but some of my non-American friends were quite popular too. There were also some Russian girls hanging out with Japanese and Korean 'playboys'. The club seemed like an expensive and exclusive commercial product with no atmosphere of it's own and a soundtrack of original "Nirvana vs. Beyonce vs. Samba de Janeiro" remixes. The whole place was addressed to a specific target audience and I felt I didn't belong. A night of frustration and struggling with my moral backbone. How I missed Cracow's clubs, the small, quiet and stylish works of art. I will definitely not forget the night. Lesson learned. Oh, and no pictures from the party, my camera died at the TGS and I had no time to recharge it. Anyway, what happens in Roppongi, stays in Roppongi.