That’s All, Folks (the last post)

We fly back to the States tomorrow, and I have very mixed emotions. On the one hand, I think I’m ready to come home: I miss friends and family, can’t wait to pick Daniel up from camp, need to get my house in order, and am very eager to get back to work. It’s been a long time. On the other hand, I will miss Japan very, very much, although I think David is probably correct when he says it’s really Tokyo I’ll miss. He means that I’m a city girl, and I’ve absolutely adored living in a big city again. It does help to know we’ll be moving from Mississippi to New Jersey soon, and I’ll have regular access to Manhattan again.

The four-month stay in Japan has changed me somewhat, in both deep and superficial ways.

On the superficial level, here are some Japanese customs I’ve (temporarily) adopted:

* I automatically take my shoes off when I come into a house, and use separate slippers in the bathroom.

* I bow instead of shaking hands (and I have perfected three different “depths” of bow, depending on who I am addressing).

* I am very adept with chopsticks.

* I refill other people’s glasses at the table, and not my own.

* I place my money in a tray rather than hand it directly to a salesclerk when shopping.

* I walk on the left side (of sidewalks, escalators, etc.).

* I carry a small washcloth in my purse at all times, since many public restrooms don’t provide paper towels or hand dryers.

But there are more fundamental changes as well. I think I’ve changed my aesthetic sense a bit, and will have to get used to a Western sensibility again (although honestly I don’t think it will take long). I’ve also changed my idea of how well it’s possible for millions of people to live together in a big city. And I’ve changed my global perspective, my view of where the U.S. stands in the world, because as I’ve said before, this is the first place I’ve ever been that makes my home country look almost backward.

I remain impressed by the civility, hospitality, respect, and caring that we’ve encountered from the vast majority of people we’ve met. And I do hope that at least a few of them will come visit us in the U.S. so we can return that hospitality.

If we ever do return (and if David and Daniel have any say that will happen some day), I’ll need to study Japanese language a lot more. I remain surprised by how few Japanese people speak English, and how even fewer speak it well. The expectation is that foreigners in the country speak Japanese, which wasn’t always the case. When David was last here more than twenty years ago, he said Japanese people believed their language was too difficult for foreigners to learn, and were impressed and grateful for even an “arigato” (thank you). But that’s absolutely not true anymore, at least in not Tokyo. When I have interactions with Japanese people, whether it’s in a store or at a social gathering, it’s assumed that I speak the language. Outside of Tokyo people still seem surprised to hear David speak Japanese, or even for me to stumble along with my bits and pieces. But clearly in the last two decades many foreigners have moved to Tokyo and learned to speak Japanese. I’m managing better than I was four months ago, but I have a long way to go before I’m even comfortably conversational. But that’s a challenge for our next visit. . .

So sayonara Japan, at least for now. And I’ll see all of you at home soon. Th, th, th, that’s all, folks!

So Many Blog Topics, So Little Time

We’re leaving for home in three days. . . and I’m looking at a long list of blog topics I wanted to write about. It’s just not going to happen. And I’m not going to continue this blog once we leave Japan.

So instead, here’s part of my list, just to give you a taste of what I’d hoped to have time for.

*Our recent three-day cultural trip to Nikko on a Fulbright-sponsored tour. We stayed with an older Japanese couple in Utsanomiya, learned about the tea ceremony from a tea master, learned about indigo dyeing from a “Living National Treasure” (a Japanese designation for someone who is accomlished at traditional arts), made pottery in a famous pottery town (Mashiko), and visited Nikko, with its gorgeous shrines and temples, waterfalls, lake, etc,

Below: The tea master

Skeins of yarn at the indigo dyer’s studio (below):

Stone lanterns at Nikko (below):

*The weather: Hot and humid as hell. But signs in store windows say “weak air-conditioning,” which I didn’t understand until I walked in and the air-conditioning was indeed rather weak (just enough so you’re not miserable, but not really enough to get you cool). I think people are being encouraged to keep air-conditioning low to save energy, and to reduce the greenhouse effect that occurs in Tokyo when the city retains hot air from the sun and the millions of air-conditioners. Apparently the government conducted an experiment in one neighborhood where they asked residents to water the sidewalks each day, and the air temperature was actually lowered by several degrees. But it wasn’t considered feasible or affordable to use so much water all over the city, or to install any kind of cooling systems in the sidewalks, so nothing came of the experiment. And by the way, the Japanese eat eel in hot weather, which is supposed to give you sustenance and help you handle the heat.

Below: Hot weather matsuri (festival) attire for man and boy

*Another post on some of the strange food we’ve encountered, which now includes “ice bagels” (with ice cream in the center), coffee jelly (at Starbucks of all places), yuba (tofu skin) ice cream, soy-flavored Kit Kat bars, pork rectum and uterus (no, we didn’t try them), and an awful story about a dish made with tofu and tiny live eels that you’ll have to ask me about because it’s a bit too long to tell here. (By the way, Japanese eggs taste so much better than American eggs. I still haven’t found out why, but it must either have to do with the breed of chicken or the feed they’re given.)

*”Engrish”: The very funny ways English gets mangled in signs, T-shirts, brochures, etc. I’ve written about it before (actually, hundreds of people have written about it before) but it’s still funny. A few of my examples (photos) follow. For some more, visit Daniel’s favorite website, www.engrish.com.

*Japanese aesthetics: How tastes seem to veer towards extremes, either beautifully spare and minimal, or kitchy and cute. Think tatami (straw) mats and paper screens. . . versus Hello Kitty and giant video screens. This is an example of an ancient culture where everything is new. Example: People are expected to tear down their houses and rebuild every 30 years or so. Between earthquakes and fires, wars, and the craze for everything new, there’s very little old architecture here.

(Below: Three photos of old Japan. From top: A rice vending machine. Edo-era architecture in Kawagoe, a town near Tokyo. A tatami maker’s shop/studio.)

(And below, new Tokyo: Shibuya crossing, which is supposedly the busiest pedestrian crossing in the world.)

*Shopping: This has to be the most materialistic country I’ve ever visited, with a consumerism that puts the U.S.’s to shame. To meet the demand, there are more stores and more stuff for sale than I’ve ever seen. And the stores are amazing. They’re big, beautiful, appealing. Department stores are full of clothes, of course, but the big department stores also contain restaurants, food halls, travel agencies, bookstores. You’re greeted when entering stores and restaurants, and thanked profusely when leaving. And shopping here is vertical. In the States, a stores that was located on the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, or higher floors of a building would suffer greatly. But here people are so used to high rises full of stores and restaurants, that the crowd on the 8th floor is usually just as big as the crowd on the ground floor.

And I was also going to write a whole separate post on supermarkets. . .

(Above: Daikon, which are giant Japanese radishes.)

(Below: Japanese carrots, which are also giant!)

(Below: An assortment of pickles at our local supermarket.)

*Made in China: As you can imagine, the market here is flooded with cheap stuff from China, the same as it is in the States. But people here have an enormous suspicion of Chinese goods, and will happily pay a lot more money for domestic products. Example: In the supermarket, one head of garlic grown in Japan costs more than a huge bagful from China, but many consumers buy the Japanese garlic in spite of the price. An American man married to a Japanese woman told me his mother-in-law was so biased against Chinese goods that when she recently bought a pair of Italian shoes she grilled the sales clerk to be sure that no part of the shoes, not even the sole, had been made in China!

*Maid in Japan: “Maid cafes” are a strange and somewhat creepy phenomenon in the Akihabara (electronics) section of Tokyo. They’re like small restaurants or tea rooms staffed by young women who dress up as maids and treat customers (mostly male “otaku,” or nerds) as masters. The otaku, who are crazy about manga (comics), anime (cartoons) and electronics are generally not very suave with women, so these bars are especially appealing to them. They can have cute girls fawning all over them, offering them foot rubs, and even spoon-feeding (chopstick-feeding?) them if they desire. Apparently these cafes are not fronts for prostitution, but that doesn’t really make them more palatable. I think what’s most off-putting isn’t that these maid cafes exist. . . but that there are so many of them, and that they are inundated with women begging to work there.

*Japanese TV and women’s magazines: Both pretty bad.

*Japanese museums: Also (surprisingly) bad. The National Museum here is particularly shabby, and the art museums aren’t very impressive. I’d heard before I came to Japan that “Tokyo is for entertainment, and Kyoto is for culture.” It’s somewhat true, but Kyoto’s culture is shrines, not museums. We really haven’t found any world-class museums anywhere (except in Seoul, Korea, and Taipei, Taiwan, which had museums to put Tokyo’s to shame).

*More on earthquakes: We’ve had three of them within six days recently.

*A roundup of some strange (to Americans) customs and rules. Special slippers to wear in the bathroom. Ear-cleaning (considered extremely important, although I’m not sure why). Smoking allowed in restaurants and coffee shops, but not outside on streets or sidewalks (see photo below).

*Transportation: The Tokyo subways, the shinkansen (bullet trains), and bicycles everywhere (see below, a cycle commuter parking lot).

*The expatriate community: Who they are, what they’re like, what parts of the city they live in (Roppongi, Azubu-juban, Hiro-o), etc. And the incredible hoops that foreigners are forced to jump through by a large and rigid bureaucracy to get the proper documents to live here, open a bank account, get an apartment, travel freely overseas and return, etc.

*Health care: When we arrived in Japan we were told that if we became ill, even in an emergency, we should make our way to the hospital by taxi or subway, and not call an ambulance unless absolutely necessary. Apparently hospitals can turn away ambulances, but have to accept patients who walk in the door. Not only that, there’s no law requiring cars to make way for ambulances on the street.

*Generational differences: Japan has a higher percentage of elderly people in the population than anywhere else in the world. And there are huge differences between the generations. Younger people are much taller and more westernized, but they also seem shallower and more materialistic, less independent and individualistic. Older people seem more relaxed, more naturally expressive and emotional, and just more interesting in general. It may be unfair, or it may be a function of who we’ve met, but in many cases we’ve enjoyed talking with older Japanese people more than younger. One silly difference between the generations: Older people think it’s polite, and a sign of appreciation, to slurp their noodles noisily in restaurants, but younger people seem to think it kind of rude and sloppy!

*Plants and animals: The enormous Tokyo crows (or are they ravens?), the tiny bats, the koi (carp) ponds, and the snow monkeys and brown bears that like to bathe in the onsen (hot springs).

Oh I could go on and on. . . except I can’t. So many blog topics, so little time. . .

Peace

In this year’s Global Peace Index, released in May, Japan was ranked fifth of the 140 countries included. The Global Peace Index began in 2007 as a peace-promoting initiative by an international panel of experts including representatives from universities, think tanks, and not-for-profit organizations around the world. (If you’re wondering how the U.S. ranks this year, it’s a dismal 97th. The number 1 spot went to Iceland.)

At any rate, the GPI rankings are based on how countries measure up according to dozens of different criteria, including the level of trust among citizens, the crime rate, the percentage of jailed population, political instability, respect for human rights, gender inequality, percentage of government money spent on the military, percent spent on education, freedom of the press, adult literacy rate, potential for terrorism, amount of internal and external conflict, etc. etc. etc.

I can certainly understand Japan’s high ranking. Compared to the U.S. there’s remarkably little conflict here. The crime rate is far far lower than it is in the U.S., and even though there’s a death penalty, I believe it’s used only rarely, and only for really heinous cases. An American expat recently described Tokyo to me as the greatest city on earth because of the way its 35 million people interact so smoothly in a relatively small space. People are treated very respectfully.

As I’ve mentioned before, the city seems designed to make life easy. Besides the easy availability of clean public restrooms (which on its own raises the standard of living many percentage points!), there’s the ubiquity of convenience stores, the handing out of tissues during cold and allergy season (and lately, the handing out of paper fans–with advertising–now that the weather is hot and humid). Sidewalks all over the city have special paths with a raised pattern to help blind people navigate the streets (although I’ve only seen a few blind people since I’ve been here). Needs are anticipated and addressed.

(Special lanes with raised patterns help blind people navigate city sidewalks.)

But Japan has an advantage over many countries, including the U.S., in achieving this way of life. One thing most of the top-ranked countries in the GPI have in common is a homogenous population. In Japan’s case, that homogeneity is jealously guarded. Family registries–official records of births, parentage, and nationality–maintain national purity, since “blood” is considered part of an individual’s identity, and blood type can determine personality. “Blood” is so important that so far the country has managed to keep the use of donor egg, donor sperm, and gestational carriers/surrogates to a bare minimum. A few years ago the whole country watched as a well-known television announcer and her wrestler husband battled the government to allow their twins to be listed in the Family Registry as their legal children, and as Japanese citizens. The “problem” was that even though the children were biologically the couple’s–created from her egg and his sperm–the pregnancy was carried by a surrogate in the United States because the Japanese mother had had a hysterectomy after a diagnosis of uterine cancer. A court in Nevada ruled that the Japanese biological mother was the child’s legal mother, and that the American surrogate would not be listed on the birth certificate (which was exactly what all involved wanted). But the Japanese court ruled that the American surrogate was the legal mother, and refused to recognize the babies as belonging to the famous couple . . . or allow the babies to be listed in the Family Registry as Japanese citizens. The case went all the way to the Japanese Supreme Court. . . which confirmed that the American woman who carried the babies was the mother. So the couple has decided to raise their children as American citizens (which they are automatically), residing in Japan.

Anyway, all that is a digression (I have been compiling a lot of fascinating information about Japanese fertility treatments, adoption, surrogates, egg and sperm donors, etc.). The point is that the nation’s citizens are not a very diverse bunch, which makes it fairly easy to educate and socialize them to a kind of national “group think” which comes through in all sorts of ways. For instance, in many university classes, when a student is singled out and asked a question, he/she will consult with classmates before giving a consensus response.

(Schoolgirls in Tokyo.)

But the socialization also means that people identify with a common culture and a common cause, and almost all take great pride in their work, no matter how menial it may seem to an outsider. Bathroom cleaners do their job conscientiously and politely. Trains run on time–and there are very sincere apologies given when they are even two minutes late. Everyone has a stake in keeping their part of the machinery running smoothly so that things continue to function cleanly, safely, efficiently. I think one reason the Japanese are suspicious of outsiders (and particularly of the Koreans and Chinese who live here), is because they can never be sure that “gaijin” (non-Japanese) hold the same standards or have the same stake in the society.

For me living here that means several things. For one, that I am getting a bit of a free ride. I reap the benefits of this easy-to-live-in society without having been subjected to the same socialization process. But also, not having been educated in the Japanese system, I bristle at the repression even as I appreciate the niceties of the society. True there are few car horns honking in anger or altercations on the street. . . but there is also little exuberance or passion or raucous laughter. Everything is a bit restrained. Living in Japan longterm means adjusting to almost constant constriction. “Peace” describes a state of quietude, which is very much the feeling here.

If I ever came back here to live again, I’d need to have a job or something regular to do so I felt I was contributing to the functioning of the society. But I’d also need to find outlets for my enthusiasms and ways to release pent up emotions. One young American woman I met here, who had left her partner behind in the States for a few months, said that she found it difficult that friends didn’t hug here, because it left her without any “skin contact.” Her solution was to volunteer at an animal shelter. Another American woman makes frequent trips to Korea, where she’s developed closer friendships than she has in Japan.

I admire many many things about Japanese society. And I’ve never visited any other country that made me feel like the U.S. was somewhat backwards. In so many ways, Japan is showing a vision of a future that blends high-tech achievements and traditional values into a successful, well-functioning society. A lot of nations could learn from the example. But that doesn’t mean Japan doesn’t have a few things to learn, too: about tolerance, human nature, women’s rights, being part of a global society. There’s definitely peace here, but it comes at a price. And I can’t help but wonder if the price couldn’t be reduced to make life here even better.

Notes on Beauty

I just read an article in a Japanese magazine (in English, of course) saying that the red lip pigment worn by geishas might be the most expensive makeup in the world. It’s an iridescent paste called “beni,” and it’s made from the crushed petals of safflowers. Around 2000 safflowers are needed to make just a few grams of the product (way less than an ounce).

The safflowers are grown in only one prefecture in Japan, and they must be handpicked before sunrise in July. Then, to make beni, they’re soaked, fermented, and reconstituted to obtain the small amount of red pigment. This is how beni has been made since the 1600s, and it has traditionally been available only to geisha, and not to the general public. The paste is applied with a brush, and geisha use it on their cheeks, eyes, and nails as well as their lips. The color you get depends on how much you apply: one thin layer can create a pale pink shade, but a thick layer comes out a fiery scarlet.

Now a 160-year-old company has decided to make beni available to the public. The beni will cost from 70,000 to 300,000 yen (about $700 to $3000), depending on the exquisiteness of the pot it’s packaged in. But the pots hold less than a third of an ounce, which is just enough for 30-50 applications. If you do the math, that means one application can cost as much as $100!

I’m not planning on bringing home any beni as a souvenir, but the article made me stop and think about Japanese beauty products and trends I’ve noticed since I’ve been here. As in any country, some beauty standards are eternal, while others change according to whims and fads.

While things are slowly changing (and I guess making beni available to the public is one sign of it), it still seems as if Japanese women take a lot of their beauty cues and standards from the west. It’s truly a shame, since there are so many very beautiful Asian women. But a lot of ads here still feature tall, blonde, obviously western models. And women’s magazines are chock full of ads for skin-whitening concoctions offered by nearly every big cosmetic company. One woman student of David’s told him how offended she was that westerners think of the Japanese as “yellow,” since, she said, “we are white.” Her insistence, and the desire for pale skin here (many women carry parasols to protect their skin from the sun), betrays a prejudice about the value of skin color, or perhaps a reaction to others’ prejudice.

I hardly see any bleached-blond Japanese women, but brown hair is definitely “in.” Looking at the students in our university cafeteria, for instance, you notice a sea of (dyed) brunette women, and (natural) black-haired men.

Another western-influence trend is emphasizing eyelashes, either with false lashes or heavy mascara. It seems to be an attempt to make Asian eyes look wider and rounder. Pale skin, brown hair, and western-looking eyes seem to be the ideal that young women are striving for. So ironic, because so many western women would love to have the slim Japanese physique and thick shiny black hair!

But there are definitely signs of change, a bit like the “black is beautiful” movement in the U.S. in the 1960s. In addition to making geisha makeup available to the public, there’s evidence that Asian beauty is being more recognized and celebrated.

Shampoo advertising seems to be the harbinger. Earlier in this decade, a new shampoo called Asiance was introduced, with TV ads showing a beautiful Asian model with long swinging black hair getting all the attention on the runway as the blonde western models look on jealously. The company got some flack for its reverse racism, and a second generation of ads showed the blonde models looking happy for their Asian colleague, rather than jealous. But the point was made.

Now Shiseido has a new shampoo called Tsubaki which is also stressing the beauty of Asian hair. The shampoo is made with camellia oil, and the bottle has a distinctly eastern shape and style. All the models used in the print and television ads (mostly famous actresses) are Japanese. The shampoo is only one or two years old, but is already one of the top-selling drugstore brands here (in Japan, Shiseido makes mass-market products, too). Best of all, the ads don’t feature the usual stereotypes of Japanese women in advertising: the schoolgirl, the office lady, the mom. The women in these ads are more multi-dimensional, and the ads have been hailed as revolutionary (although to an American eye there’s really nothing unusual about them). The first round of ads featured a number of very famous Japanese actresses, engaged in all kinds of activities including sports, work, social things, etc. The background music is by the J-Pop group, SMAP, and the ads always end with the shampoo’s slogan: “Japanese women are beautiful.” The shampoo was an instant hit, and a later round of commercials featured the famous Japanese women all wearing beautiful kimonos and involved in more traditional activities like visiting Shinto shrines. The tagline–Japanese women are beautiful–remained, and the message was clear that Japanese fashion and traditions are beautiful, too.

I don’t know if Shiseido’s Tsubaki shampoo ads had any influence, but there are some signs here that traditional Japanese fashion is “cool” again, too. Apparently it used to be that you had to choose between traditional Japanese fashion (kimonos, yukatas, sandals, happi coats, etc.) or more modern western clothes. But now some cutting-edge designers are starting to use traditional elements in their fashions: for instance, using kimono fabric as trim, or putting an obi-style sash on a dress instead of a belt, etc. There’s even a very trendy new athletic shoe that’s styled like tabe socks (with a separation between the big toe and the rest of the toes). It’s a way for younger people who wear western clothes to incorporate their heritage into their overall look.

I’m sure that, as a westerner looking in from the outside, I’m missing are all sorts of fashion cues and messages. But I hope that girls here (and girls everywhere) grow up proud of their own heritage and their own “look.” Japanese IS beautiful. . . and so is black, Latina, Jewish, Indian, etc. etc. etc. Okay, I’ll get off the PC soapbox. Maybe it’s just a case of everyone wanting what they don’t have, the way that women with straight hair always wish that it were curly, and women with curly hair always wish that it were straight. If only it were just a case of the right shampoo solving everything. . .

News of the Weird, Japanese Style

I’ve just come back from four days in the States, taking Daniel to summer camp. It was very strange to be home so briefly (and I can’t write about the disgusting state of my house, or I’ll start crying). There was barely time to register the culture shock or deal with the jet lag (let alone get out the industrial strength cleansing solutions) before it was time to turn around and fly back to Japan. The G8 conference took place while I was away, and one of the first things I registered back in Tokyo is that all the extra police presence is now gone.

Coming back to the apartment, I noticed a sign posted on the building’s bulletin board by the maintenance department, letting tenants know that there would be no electricity for several hours while they did routine checkups and maintenance . . . on September 15th!!! I don’t even know when the water or electricity companies are doing maintenance in Mississippi until the lights go out or the taps stop flowing. It’s so Japanese.

Also very Japanese are little news items I’ve been collecting for the last few months, the kind of quirky stuff that would qualify for those syndicated “News of the Weird” columns you see in some newspapers in the U.S. So here, in no particular order, is a sampling of strangeness from the past three and a half months in Japan:

–A customs officer at Tokyo’s Narita Airport wanted to test his drug-sniffing dog, so he put $10,000 worth of marijuana in a randomly-chosen suitcase. Unfortunately, the dog couldn’t sniff out the drugs. . . and the officer couldn’t remember which piece of luggage he put them in. So far no one has returned the pot.

–Recently released documents have revealed that right after their defeat in WWII, Japan’s Imperial Navy re-designated so-called “comfort women” (sex slaves) as “auxiliary nurses.”

–An escaped pet parrot named Yosuke was picked up by police, who didn’t know who to return him to. The parrot was taken to a vet, where he announced, “I’m Mr. Yosuke Nakamura,” and then provided his home address.

–A small chain of restaurants in Japan, called Zauo, has taken the concept of choosing your fish fresh from a tank one step further. In this restaurant, patrons catch their fish from a stream that runs through the dining area; there are ten kinds of fish and shellfish available. Once caught, the fish are taken by the staff into the kitchen to be prepared. The restaurant warns customers to be patient, since it may take a while before they nab their dinner. If you’re really hungry, they say, the easiest fish to catch is mackerel.

–An 18-year-old man in Tokyo was arrested for lacing a co-worker’s whiskey with a pipe-cleaning solution. He said he did it because the other man “warned me about the way I disposed of garbage and ignored me when I greeted him.” Well, as I’ve mentioned before in this blog, disposing of garbage in Tokyo IS pretty complicated. . .

–Sanrio, creators of Hello Kitty, are introducing new characters. Cherinacherine is “a pair of female fairy friends who live in a cherry forest.” Think toy news is trivial? In Japan, domestic toys sales were 670 billion yen (about $6.7 billion) in 2007.

–More toy news: The Bandai Corporation (makers of such trendy, iconic Japanese toys as the Tamagotchi virtual electric pets, the electric bubble wrap popper, and this year’s poppable plastic edamame) is introducing a new “piggy” bank. The toy, shaped like a big pink plastic heart, is called the Ikemen Bank (which means “handsome man bank” or “cool guy bank” or something like that). Owners choose one of five male characters programmed into the bank’s LCD screen ( “cool model,” “witty comedian,” “gentle, public-school boy,” “young athlete,” and “older man with patience”), and then conduct a virtual love affair.

The bank holds one hundred 500-yen coins (for a total of $500), and the success of the love affair depends in part on the success of the savings. For instance, if the fashion model boyfriend is ignored for five days, he writes a letter breaking off the relationship and then disappears. The thrifty girlfriends have to respond to queries from their bank beaux, and when the bank is full, the ending of the love story is revealed, its happiness determined by how well they fielded the questions.

I’m assuming the bank is meant to encourage teenage girls to save their money. But since the “ikemen” also hand out compliments when a coin is inserted (Example: “You are the best!”), another message the bank transmits is that you can pay for sex. The bank will be introduced in Japan in September, and will cost about $45. I don’t know if Bandai plans to introduce an English-speaking version in the U.S., but I’d love to see what “cool guys” they’d introduce there. For instance, I think I’d save a lot of money for “very rich and handsome husband who also cooks and is a nice guy.” Oh wait, I have that already (except for the very rich part) . . .

Daniel: Monday, July 7: Last Day in Japan

As you may or may not know, today is my last day in Japan. We are catching an 11:50 airport bus to Narita airport, from which we will depart on a 3:45 airplane to arrive in Seattle at 8:45 in the morning on the same day. As I write this, it is 9:20. (Mom is coming with me, but is then flying back to Japan. She and Dad will come home on the 28th.)

From Seattle, we will go to Memphis. Once home, we will have less than a day to see our house and our cat, before we leave once again to drive down to Jackson.

I am now looking out over our terrace at the New Otani Hotel and Prudential Financial building which have defined our neighborhood since we arrived. By them are the Grand Prince Hotel Akasaka and the Akasaka Excel Hotel Tokyu. My last view of Japan before I leave is not a spectacular one, but it is one I know I will always remember. Goodbye.

Kappabashi Dori

While Akihabara is widely known as Tokyo’s Electric Town, the lesser-known but equally fascinating Kappabashi Dori (“dori” means street) is the city’s Kitchen Street. This is the place that chefs and restauranteurs visit for their supplies. The entrance to the main shopping street is marked by a giant chef wearing a toque (see photo above).

I went wandering there a couple of days ago, right before the weather shifted from pleasant and relatively cool (in the 70s), to high 80s and stultifyingly humid. It’s so hot right now that in addition to the people who hand out advertising tissue packets on the street (convenient for mopping up sweat), lots of stores are giving out promotional fans, and people are fanning themselves furiously all over the city. The chic people opt for the beautiful (and expensive) folding fans with painted designs. The rest of us take what we can get on the street.

Anyway, back to Kappabashi. If you’re a sushi lover and have ever eaten kappamaki, you probably assumed (as I did) that the “kappa” meant cucumber (the “maki” means roll). Wrong. A kappa is a creature from Japanese folklore, and its favorite food is cucumbers: the reason for the sushi’s whimsical name. Kappabashi (“bashi” means bridge) may or may not have been named after this creature, but the people who work there have made the kappa a sort of mascot.

I haven’t really gotten a handle on kappas. They’re alternately described as lovable but mischievous water sprites, or cruel and evil monsters who inhabit ponds and rivers in Japan. They are considered Shinto water gods who are exceedingly polite and help farmers irrigate fields. But they’re also frightening beings whose favorite food, after cucumbers, are children, who they capture and eat in a rather disgusting way (by sucking the insides out through the rectum). The various depictions of the kappa all over Kappabashi reflect this schizophrenic nature.

The kappas:

Kappas have a bowl-shaped depression on the top of their head containing the water that’s the source of their strength (and even their life). It’s also the source of their weakness. If you’re ever confronted by a carnivorous kappa, here’s how to defend yourself: Bow deeply toward the monster. Kappas are so very polite that they have no choice but to bow back, and when they do the water spills out of their head, leaving them weakened or dead.

I didn’t see any living kappas on Kappabashi, but I saw an incredible number of kitchen supply stores (actually, more than 160). There were establishments specializing in chopsticks, laquerware, china, cooking equipment, teapots, bamboo steamers, knives, bentos, paper lanterns, “noren” (those sectioned cloth banners that hang outside shops and restaurants in Japan), aprons, signs, display cases.

A store specializing in dishes:

And one with rice cookers big enough to feed hundreds of people:

But the real reason many “gaijin” (foreigners) come to Kappabashi is to ogle the fake food. This often incredibly realistic plastic food graces display cases outside restaurants all over the country.

The practice in Japan of displaying the ersatz edibles dates from the 1920s, when a Tokyo department store first put (real) items from their menu in a display case, and saw their business boom. The idea quickly caught on with other restaurants. The 3-D menu illustrations certainly make ordering easier for non-Japanese speakers (although photos on the menu would work just about as well). But real food had to be replaced several times a day so it didn’t look wilted or smell bad. So an industry was born to make replica food as real as possible. Now most of the models are made of meticulously molded and painted PVC. And many of the artists and factories are centered in or represented in Kappabashi. Chefs work with the fake food manufacturers to come up with models that look exactly like their own cooking. But samples and more generic ready-made dishes are for sale in several Kappabashi stores.

Most of the stores also offer smaller versions (such as keychains) for gaijin enamored of the realistic fare. Full-size cakes and main dishes can cost hundreds of dollars, but a small refrigerator magnet or keychain can be had for as little as $4. Daniel bought a tiny hamburger and I bought a piece of tekkamaki (a sushi tuna roll). And then we got hungry and left in search of some real food.

Mt. Fuji: Tourists for a Day

After more than three months in Japan, the closest we’d come to the famed Mt. Fuji was spotting it from a speeding bullet train window far away. We decided we wanted a closer look. And to get it we joined up with a day tour.

It was certainly strange to be in a bus full of people who’d obviously only recently arrived in the country. And it was weird to sit there as the cheerful English-speaking guide told people how to say “hello” and “thank you” in Japanese, and explained about customs that we’d learned about months before.

But the tour was efficient, and we drove straight from Tokyo to the Mt. Fuji Visitor Center, and then on to the so-called 5th station (out of 10, marked for climbers) at about 7,500 feet. Getting there on our own would have involved a succession of trains and buses. The two-month Fuji climbing season just began yesterday, so there were a lot of people gathered there, ready and anxious to scale the 12,385 peak.

Intermittent clouds and dramatic mist meant that picture-perfect postcard photos of the mountain weren’t possible. But there’s no question that the peak is an imposing presence. It is, of course, the highest in Japan. Mt. Fuji is (or was) a volcano, and the last eruption was in 1707. The mountain is quite beautifully shaped, and has been the subject of countless paintings and drawings. The Japanese call it “Fuji-san,” and a lot of people assume that the “san” (which is also used to address people, as in calling me Beth-san) is a sign of their love and respect for the mountain. In fact, “san” also means mountain, so Fuji-san just means Mt. Fuji in Japanese.

We walked around the mountainside, browsed through all the souvenir shops we were led through, ate our “traditional Japanese lunch” in a group-tour type hotel, and then took a short boat ride and cable car journey in the Fuji Five Lakes and Hakone region. It was nice to get out of the city, and the cool mountain air (there’s still some snow at the top of Fuji) was delightful. It was also kind of relaxing to let someone else worry about all the travel arrangements for a change. But we all agreed afterwards that for the rest of the trip we’d do what we usually do, and get around by ourselves.

 

 

Street Life and Summer Matsuris

This morning, David, Daniel, and I walked out of our apartment building on campus . . . as several policemen rushed in. They seemed to be following a well-dressed older woman, who we assumed was leading them to the scene of something. Concerned about what was happening in our building, we stopped to watch. As the police spoke on their walkie-talkies, reinforcements kept arriving until there were at least a dozen officers following the woman. Then we realized that the woman wasn’t leading them somewhere; SHE was the problem. But that was difficult to discern, because in spite of a dozen young policemen (and women) following one old lady, no one yelled at her, no one threatened her, no one even touched her. She merely walked around trying to elude them, and muttering (according to David, since she was speaking in Japanese), “Why are you following me? Why are you blocking my way?” And the police kept trying to form lines around her and sort of herd her off campus, the way a sheepdog would corral a wayward sheep into a pen. It was so sweet it was almost touching, and I assume the only reason so many police were involved at all was because of recent stabbing incidents here involving crazy people.

 

But that’s not the kind of street life I’m talking about in this blog.

 

I’ve said in the past that Tokyo doesn’t really have a very vibrant street life. There are few outdoor food stalls (like New York’s hot dog carts, for example), few street musicians, even few beggars. City streets here are full of people, but the scene tends to be very orderly and fairly quiet (there’s even a rule about not smoking on the street).

 

But all that changes in summer, which is the season for “matsuris.” A matsuri is a festival. Often the maturis are sponsored by local temples or shrines. A couple of weeks ago the Hie-Jinja shrine in our neighborhood held a matsuri complete with portable shrine parade.

 

 

 

 

But matsuris can be secular, too. Sometimes they’re seasonal, such as to celebrate the cherry blossoms or hydrangeas being in bloom. Sometimes they’re sports-related, such as a festival with archers on horseback. And sometimes they’re cultural, such as a festival to celebrate/publicize the food or drink of a specific region or country. And when there are festivals, there are also “yatais,” or food stalls, with offerings like takoyaki (fried octopus balls) and okonomiyaki (a pancake with egg, cabbage, and pork or seafood).

 

The good weather also brings out the street performers, who gather in parks and other public places.

 

 

 

 

 

There are so many festivals in Tokyo in the summer that you could surely find one every weekend if you wanted to. And they almost always draw a crowd.

 

This coming Friday is the fourth of July, and somehow I doubt there will be any matsuris here to commemorate U.S. Independence Day. But if David, Daniel, and I are in the mood to celebrate, we know we won’t have to go far to find a festival. Maybe there will even be fireworks.

Kamakura

Daniel and I took a day trip to Kamakura a few days ago, a small town about an hour out of Tokyo. It’s a pretty old village with lots of temples and shrines, and a gigantic 13^th century Buddha statue that you can go inside of and climb up a bit.

 

 

There were hydrangeas in bloom all over town, and people taking photos of them just as they did when the cherry blossoms came out in late spring.

 

 

Kamakura is on the coast, so we spent part of the day on the beach. Crowds would gather whenever the fishermen pulled in a net. The fishermen only wanted the fish; they’d caught lots of fugu (blowfish). They tossed out all the jellyfish. And then they let people grab handfuls of tiny transparent fish from the net, and eat them alive.

 

 

 

Daniel and I were offered some, but declined. We’re such wimps. . .