私の大冒険 Watashi no Daibouken

Week 8: Kamakura (The Week After the Week After, part 2)

2006-09-30T11:48:00.000+09:00

Cats In Japan

Tea Party

Asking for directions

Pretty Flowers

The Tunnel

Counting Fish

Far Altar

Forest Ocean Vista

Mountain Pass

Lilly and Ladybug

One of the Three Beauties of the World

Week 8: The Week After the Week After, part 1

2006-09-28T12:27:00.000+09:00

I should have stayed in bed! It seemed that I was over the cold in a couple days, but I kept pushing my body to keep up with studies and extracurricular activites. I would get better, then relapse.

First Haircut in Japan!

I had my hair cut in California just before getting on the plane to Japan. By now it feels like I'm growing a mop. Japan has barber shops and hair salons just like America, but in Japan a haircut usually comes with a shampoo and a massage. It sounds wonderful, but it can costs anywhere from 4,000 yen, about $40 US, to over 10,000 yen, depending on the options. Most all barber shops and many of the salons are easy to locate because of the traditional barber pole out front. Sometimes they have three or four.

I found a shop with SEVEN barber poles that advertised a katto dake (cut only) for 1,300 yen. Having moved so many times in the past I have learned the terminology to request a specific haircut from nearly any barber. HOWEVER, this only works in America. (^-^);

The barber ended up bringing out some laminated flash cards with pictures of various hair styles. The pictures are numbered, so you just ask for a "S107b." All the styles were for people with "Asian hair" (as my senpai describes it), so I asked for a combination of two so I could keep my part. Once I explained that, the barber was willing to do the kombo katto dake. Still, they tried to give me a shampoo, and once you use a product or service in Japan you are morally obligated to pay for it (a slight hyperbole, but the exceptions are so uncommon as to make little difference).

It would end up being on my "Top 5 List of Worst Haircuts," but I shouldn't complain. The staff was friendly and they spent a reasonable amount of time. It was hot in Tokyo and my hair was short again.

/(0.0)
NOTE: The katto dake is a relatively new phenomenon here, possibly in response to the decade-long recession and/or the unwillingness of foreigners to pay for such extravagant services. QBcut is a chain that specializes in the katto dake and will have you in-and-out in 10 minutes at the incredibly low price of 1,000 yen. Options are extra...

New Eikai Student!

Imaizumi Yukie joined my eikai (English conversation) class. Technically, I have 6 students, but work sometimes keeps them from attending. Nikko Chemical is an intternational company and strongly encourages English language ability for employees, so aside from work itself or family, the conversation classes are priorities. An average class is two or three people. If you teach English in Japan you should expect this, even if they are highschool or college age, as most all Japanese work very hard at education and the extracurricular activites that dovetail into their educational and employment goals.

Cosplay Café!

Japan is the birthplace of manga, an artform that is the modern antecedent of ukio-e. Traditional wood block painting has a legacy in Japan that reaches back many centuries. Ukio-e started in the mid-18th century when one artist started putting individual e in chronologically sequential order, a bit like a slide show, to show people working or walking along a river or other aspects of everyday life. Manga was heavily influenced by the art of Walt Disney, which came to Japan during the occupation after the war. Japan has reversed that trend and for the past few years manga has been the fastest growing medium on the planet. FYI, anime, short for "animation, "also known as "Japanimation," is the movie analog to manga.

Fans of various manga and anime characters carry their hobby to a new level. They dress up as their favorite character. Cosplay, short for "costume-play", is very popular within some segments of Japanese society. One entrepreneurial expression of this is the cosplay café, a coffee or sandwich shop where the wait staff dresses up. European-style maids are probably the most common theme, but cat-girls, magic girls (think of Sabrina in the old TV series Bewitched!), bunny girls, and nurses are all represented. It's probably obvious, but the cosplay café typically caters to a male clientele. Food and drinks are typically twice as expensive as a non-themed café.

Here I am outside a small bento-ya near my classroom run by a Waseda student organization where the store clerks dress up as maids, or meedo-san as they are called in Japan. The food isn't especially great, but the staff is *cute* and occasionally it is a welcome change from rice and noodles.

My professor of Entrepreneurship recommended I keep an eye out for potential business opportunities, but the cosplay café would be difficult to import as-is because of the cultural context.

Interesting Things!

It's amazing how different a street can look one day to the next. I am constantly discovering new things even in the neighborhod where I live.

Here is a shrine of sorts that I discovered in a stairwell next to an apartment building in Takadanobaba. The design on the flags mark it as being Buddhist, rather than Shinto. The spiral design is often mistaken as a swastika by westerners, but the swastica rotates in the opposite direction. You can think of it as a reverse-swastika, but I think the Buddhist usage may predate even the germanic tribe from whom Hitler appropriated his notorious logo.

Temples are convenient landmarks and every map I have seen has them marked with the spiral design. Shrines are marked with a gate sign that looks a bit like an H with a bar on top.

Owning a car in Japan is quite expensive, especially if you live in a big city. Taxes favor newer and more energy-efficient models and the law requires everyone to have a parking space. Rent on a parking space is very expensive. Flat parking lots are so rare that I am surprized when I see one. I was also surprized to see this: a self service parking ticket payment machine. Apparently, while owning a car is expensive, many of the associated fines are quite low in comparison to those in American cities.

The honor system is evident in many aspects of Japanese society. As a convenience to citizens the municipal authority has conveniently placed these boxes next to the curb where you can take the parking ticket from your car, insert your ticket and pay your fine. They may have them, but I don't think I've ever seen a parking meter.

Classmates!

This is a picture of Darishe, Noah and Cortney (L to R). Darishe is from India and is in the same language classes as I. He is allways laughing and smiling. Noah is from Papua New Guinea. He is a talented acoustic guitarist and is in a more advanced language class than Darishe and I. Cortney is a classmate from USC and is also in a more advanced language class. During our mid-morning break or at the end of the day classmates or country-mates often gather in front of our classroom building (#22) to talk. Random people walking by may know one or two of the people you are with, so you often get the chance to meet new people.

Anahachimichu Shrine!

I was walking home after class on Friday and found a large sign-type local map with pictures and short descriptions of historical landmarks. I discovered that I had already seen all of them except for Anahachimichu Shrine and Ryochoin Temple. Both were just a few blocks north from where I stood, so it seemed like a Good Idea to cross them off my list.

I was just about to leave on my mini-adventure when a kind Japanese salaryman walking by saw me looking at the map. He stopped and - with great effort - asked if I needed any help. I was touched by his sicere effort, so I asked if he could show me on the map where I was and how to get to the shrine. I really was grateful for his willingness to help. I hope he is encouraged to speak with more foreigners in the future.

NOTE: If you are obviously a foreigner and not Asian or Black people often assume you speak English. I am sure it is at least mildly annoying to Europeans who often, but not always, speak English anyway. I was once asked (in Japanese) to correct a lady on the train for having her baby carriage in the aisle. "Eigo ga dekimasuka?" "Nein, Doitsu jin desu." "Saaa..." (-.-)

Sign Language: Don't leave home without it.

Even with the salaryman's directions I nearly walked by the shrine without noticing because it was on the top of a small hill surrounded by weathered stone walls. The entrance was set back from the road and I had reading the neighborhood/block/building marker on the doorpost and looking around for likely landmarks for a minute or two before I realized that what I was looking for was right in front of me.

Flanking either side of the steps to the shrine itself were two sets of ancient-seeming guardians. One was this stone gentleman who seemed to epitomize stoic endurance.

We often have certain mental "icons" we use to represent things. This is a heart-shape, it means "love." "Meow" is the sound a cat makes. It is very interesting to discover someone else's "heart" or "meow" or, in this case, "lion-dog."

I'm sure that in the eye of the long ago (?) sculptor the lion-dogs that guard Anahachimichu Shrine are both noble and ferocious. I, with my rather western upbringing see a panting Boston Terrier with dreadlocks.

Japan has in many respects become a very cosmopolitan culture. It is with these artifacts that predate modern western influences that we can catch a glimpse of a very different way of seeing the world.

I was taking pictures of this little dragon fountain while the gardener was working nearby. He stopped what he was doing and came over to turn on the faucet so I could take pictures with water in the basin. Doumo arigatou gozaimashita!

This, I believe, is one of those purification fountains where one symbolically rinses their hands and mouth before praying.

Ryochoin Temple!

In comparison to Anahachimichu Shrine, Ryochoin Temple seems quite plain.

Surrounding the temple are hundreds and hundreds of stone markers for the deceased. Some are large, some are small, some are new and well-tended, others are ancient and nearly-illegible from moss and weather. Recently cut flowers and burnt incense are here and there.

The bell tower which forms the main gate for the temple is the most striking and elaborate structure around. I'm fairly certain they ring the bell periodically, but I have yet to see it. I wonder what it sounds like, you know, close up. (((*o*)))

As seen in the pictures it has started raining.

I was a bit concerned that walking home in the rain might bring back the flu, but I was completely "all better now." Some of it was owing to a classmate who gave me some of his American-strength cold medicine. Some of it was because I slept instead of staying up late studying Japanese. "If you don't have your health..."

Japanese Maple Sunlight!

It is Saturday morning, the sun is shining, the birds are singing, it is a beautiful day. With the rain gone everything seems especially bright and fresh.

On my way to meet up with some friends to go on a day trip I took this shot of morining sunlight filtering through the leaves of a Japanese maple. It's kind of a visual metaphor for having confidence that good times will overtake the bad.

Kamakura! (To Be Continued...)

Week 7: The Week After

2006-09-27T20:51:00.000+09:00

This week, what I unaffectionately refer to as "The Week After," I came down with the flu. For details, please refer to the blog entry about Japanese Health Care. I attended all my classes in hope that even ten percent would seep in past the congestion and pills. In hindsight, I should have stayed in bed for two or three days.

On Thursday I made my first trip from Shinjuku to Narita Airport. I was surprised to find it was so expensive or would take so long. I did my best to research the fastest schedule at the cheapest price, but the route I chose changed at the time of day I actually went.

The stationmaster directed me to take two transfers I had not planned in order to make it to the airport. The first transfer put me on a "local" train, one that makes every stop on the line. The second transfer was to a "limited express," which skips a third to half of the local stops. An "express," on the other hand, only stops at major terminals. The trip took about three hours longer than planned.

The short of the story is I got stuck in Narita after the trains stopped for the day and had to stay the night in an overpriced hotel. In Japan, ATM machines close earlier than the train stations. I ran out of money about 2/3 the way home. The picture of the bronze gentleman with a top hat is from Nippori, the town where I wandered around until I found an open ATM machine with English instructions.

Notice how the samurai on horseback has a yumi, a katana and a musket. I may have mentioned that historically speaking, samurai trained in both yumi and katana. There is a similar statue near Waseda eki where the man on horseback looks like a pony express rider except he has a katana and yumi in place of the six-shooter. The musket makes me think the person is from the late 16th, 17th, or early 18th century. Firearms were in use prior to 1570, but Oda Nobunga was the first to heavily equip his army with such. Cap and ball and cartridge weapons would not be available until the Meiji restoration reopened Japan to foreign trade.

Friday after lunch I discovered the small park next to the cafeteria. As you can see, it is very popular with students. Some couples were obviously on lunch dates. (^3^)

There is also a very large bell pagoda, similar to what I have found at Buddhist temples. Most that I have seen are very plain, relying on architectural elements of the construction and occasional wood engravings for ornamentation. A few are painted, which might indicate its significance or perhaps the wealth of the supporters.

By the way, the Japanese word for temple is o-te-ra and the Japanese word for bathroom (toilet) is o-te-a-ra-i. Don't mix them up!

Aside from the spacious and well kept lawn there were numerous walking paths through the trees and beside a rather extensive koi pond. Try as I might, I could never figure out what the white one (probably a girl) was trying to say.

On my way home I took a detour and explored a neighborhood behind the shops that line busy Shin Mejiro Douri by the university. As soon as I crossed a small bridge it was like I stepped through a magic door to a different time and place. I'm sure there was some kind of acoustic trick to it, but the sounds of a very busy modern Tokyo dissapeared. Instead there were birds, wind, and the casual chatter of people at open store fronts. It was like some small rural town one might find 30 years ago.

At one end of the neighborhood I found a fox shrine. I call it that, but the foxes were guarding the shrine, much like the lion-dogs do at temples. The shrine was decorated in banners and flags, so I imagine there was an upcomming special event of some kind.

Most neighborhoods have a local shrine or ten. I am not exaggerating! Some are obvious, but others fill a small corner or a dark nook. The minor ones stay hidden until the lighting and perspective is just right. The bustle of city life carrys you past without noticing most of the time.

Most Japanese gardens have a stone pillar shaped like a mushroom with four little windows under the cap. I have always heard it called a lantern, but I think they are more of an incense burner, if used at all. The ones at this shrine showed signs of incense and each held a small fox fetish.

If anyone spends any amount of time in and around Tokyo I an sure they will notice how significantly the character of a neighborhood can change in just a few blocks. Tokyo may be a mega-city, but often it seems to be a honeycomb collection of small towns.

While at the fox shrine I was reminded of a Bible passage that mentions principalities and authorities. I wonder if there is a correlation between the distinct personalites of different neighborhoods and the spiritual nature of the shrines and other places of worship.

We had a birthday party at the Kyuudou circle nomikai. This one was a bit different from previous otanjoubi paati in that we smuggled in a Pooh that could play back a voice recording. Here we are in our impromptu recording studio - the entry landing of the izakaya (Japanese-stype tavern).

And this is just after unwrapping Pooh.

One thing I really enjoy about this group is how everyone works so hard to be a part of each other. I just recently noticed that the dynamics are very similar to some of the home groups I have experienced in the past.

Natsukashii yo! (^-^)

Week 6: Golden Week, Part 2c

2006-08-09T20:46:00.000+09:00

Blogger is still a bit, er, finicky with pictures. It took a while to get these loaded. You'll have to invent your own story to go along with the pictures until I can enter the text. (^-^)

Breakfast on our last day in Sendagaya was another sparsely attended affair. We were served rice, fish, miso soup and omuretsu - Japanese omlette, which is just plain scrambled eggs folded over and over until it resembles a fluffy yellow pastry. It's sweet, too.

There are lots of rules about footwear in Japan. The reasons for this are based on historical and cultural factors. Some of the rules continue out of tradition, like taking off your shoes as the genkan the raised step found at many entryways. Ryokans, being an artifact of traditional Japanese culture, provide house slippers for guests. Even if they don't fit, you still have to wear them.

At the otearai, also known as a toire or WC, you will find another set of slippers, usually in a contrasting color or obviously marked as belonging to the room with toilets. As I demonstrate in the picture, you have to change once again, even if they don't fit. Walking on tip-toes becomes easier with practice.

Today is the day of the big shiai, which is translated as a game or match, but everyone says "game" instead of "match" and I have a strong impression that to everyone it is just that, a game, somthing they do because it's fun.

After the traditional opening prayer ceremony the first group of kyūdōka line up and in unison yu to the mato, the target, and advance with three gliding steps to the shooting position.

A yu is a short bow of about 5°, while the rei is a normal bow, which is usually about 15°, but can be as deep as 45°.

The kyūdōka on the far right starts by selecting an arrow, inspecting it in the process of knocking it and assuming a resting position with the yumi in front and the right hand akimbo on the right hip. The others follow, one after the other in a wave-like motion.

The first kyūdōka starts the hassetsu and after the first ya is released everyone goes at their own pace. They have four ya each. Observers will often call out a kyudokas name and "ippon" just before the hanare as a way of cheering each other. With each target strike a sharp pop is heard, echoed by a loud "JOUSH!" from everyone watching.

After everyone's ya are spent the designated field judges for that turn call out the number of hits per mato, or zannen, "too bad," if there were no hits.

A new line of kyūdōkas yu to the mato and the process continues.

This is an interesting picture because it is the only one where I was able to catch the ya in flight. Notice that Sakai-san is wearing a headband.

NOTE: Headbands in Japan are usually a sign of determination or devotion to completing a task. They often have slogans like "Victory" or "Definitely will pass (this exam)!"

There are always people to cheer their friends as people rotate through shooting and service positions.

Or pose for pictures.

After several hours everyone has shot and there is a mad scramble for the scores. It's almost a dog pile as everyone tries to look over everyone elses shoulder as the scores are tallied and the finalists decided.

The finalists follow a slightly different protocol. All line up to shoot, but each takes one shot and returns to a seiza (formal sitting) postion as the others continue to shoot.

If everyone hits the target then the process is repeated, but if one misses then they are out of the competition. The game continues until there is only one left.

I was genuinely surprised at the good will evident among players. Everyone was cheering each other on.

The finalists themselves were having fun, even when one "hit" and one "missed."

Typical for this group, the awards ceremony is a formal affair with senior members presenting awards on the top of matos to the best two, three or four players in each category.

Winners were required to unwrap the prize in front of everyone. People would call out "kawaii!" (cute), or the Japanese equivalent to "user" or "keeper" when they saw what was inside.

Some of the prizes were very nice. Others were hilarious gags. It was one of these gag prizes that set the stage for The Incident, as I like to call it.

THE INCIDENT

During the final round of awards, a masked finalist (the mask was a gag gift from a previous round of awards) claims his prize. He opens his prize and finds a large toy mallet.

He looks at his sempai and everyone waits expectantly, if unbelivingly, at what will happen next.

After a very pregnant moment he decides not to hit his sempai with the mallet and walks back to the audience.

Then... He stops.

The battle behind the mask is visible to everyone.

Suddenly! He strikes!

Below the himo (belt)!

It was several minutes before everyone could stop rolling on the floor and laughing hilariously.

Eventually, sanity returned and we started cleaning up the dojo in preparation for our departure.

The used matos were gathered up and the old target paper removed. One group cleaned the target rims of scrap paper and another prepared sheets of newspaper to recover the rims. Two layers of newspaper were glued to the rims with what looked like the flour-based goop used with papier mâchè. The target paper itself was the last item glued to the rim.

Those that were sweeping the dojo and shuttering the main doors took a break and entertained us with a brief "historical drama.

NOTE: Historical dramas in Japan almost always feature samurai, to the point that the two are synonymous of the genre.

With everything done, people left in twos and threes for the walk back to the ryokan. Here we see a highly illegal form of riding double. If you notice in the background, there is another pair with the passenger actually standing on the rear package tray of the bicycle. (^-^);

*** DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME ***

In a reverse of the first day protocols we thank our hostess for taking care of us.

I don't follow all what is said (try nothing), but I imagine we are thanking her for the good food and warm beds, and apologizing for being such inconsiderate guests. The hostess in turn apologizes for the poor conditions of the ryokan and thanks us for being such gracious, considerate guests.

I just bow and say doumo arigatou gozaimashita along with everyone else. (^-^)

We have at least a half hour before the train comes, so some go for ice cream or a cold drink while others find shade and a conversation.

After what seems like forever we take turns buying our tickets and passing through the turnstile. The station is so rural that they don't have ticket vending machines or electronic ticket gates. We buy our ticket at the window and hand it to a gentleman who stamps it by hand and lets us step through the dooway.

We gather again on the far platform to catch the train back to Tokyo. Why didn't we just go to the platform at first? No vending machines. It is almost torture to wait for a train without the refreshing convenience of an array of cold beverages on demand. Even if you're not thirsty, you start to worry "but what if..."

Our train eventually arrives. To me it seems a well-restored antique, it seems to reek of nostalgia and maintenance. In a way it is actually beautiful in comparison to newer cars seen in more metropolitan areas.

I had mentioned previously about Boy's Day and Koinobori. I was only able to get one picture of the huge colorful fish-like wind socks on our return, and a very bad one at that.

In this picture you can see over the rooftops the tip of the flagpole in the center of the town. It is hung with koinobori from top to almost touching the ground. I'm very sorry, as it was an amazingly beautiful sight to see schools of gilded fish the color of the rainbow leaping and diving in the strong afternoon wind.

There isn't much left to tell of Golden Week. Everyone slept on the way back. We woke up in time to make a transfer, and once we got to Narita we were already saying goodbye to people heading in other directions. I was so tired, I think I sleepwalked home from Shin Ookubo eki.

Week 6: Golden Week, part 2b

2006-06-17T21:00:00.000+09:00

The morning arrived very early.

I found my way to breakfast, but less than a third of the seats were taken. Those that were there were already eating, so I helped myself. It was a typical Japanese breakfast in that it included grilled fish, miso soup and rice. It was very good, but very different from a lighter, sweeter western-style breakfast. A few others trickled in while I was eating. For some reason everyone was moving slowly. /(#_#)
We were apparently on our own to find our way to the dojo (training hall). I used the opportunity to take a scenic route along the river. There were small boats of different kinds moored along both banks of the small river that flows through our neighborhood. A few locals were out strolling along river in the early morning light. Someone was fishing with a cane pole off a pier where the small river met the much larger river 70 or 80 meters downstream. The air was very cool and had that distinct tang that makes waking up in the country enjoyable.

Along the way I found a few others who were also enjoying a leisurely walk to the dojo.

When we arrived, we found a handful of others already sending ya (arrows) downfield. We also found some napping...

While waiting for the opening ceremony and the breakout into rotational groups I noticed how the personality of each kyūdō player showed through their hassetsu.

The hassetsu are the eight principle stages of playing kyūdō. The steps are interrelated and individually necessary to correctly use the Japanese yumi (bow). The forms are prescribed and very exact. Each move flows smoothly into the next, some steps taking a full breath to complete. It's easy to compare the hassetsu to the poise and balance of ballet. Each graceful step seems so effortless that one forgets the incredible amount of internal discipline and focus it requires.

Lunch was catered obento, literally a "box lunch." The Japanese word for breakfast is asa gohan, morning rice. The words for lunch is hiru gohan, noon rice, or bento. Bento comes in various regional and seasonal styles, but rice is almost always the chief item. Our obento had kurogomi, black sesame seeds, usually with coarse salt, on the rice. There was deep fried flounder with a small green salad, pasta salad and sukemono. Sukemono means pickled things and is usually some kind of cucumber. However, all kinds of vegetables and even seaweed can be used for sukemono. It's very tangy and one of my favorites in Japanese cuisine.

All the boys took their obento and ate on the lawn between the dojo and the targets. The girls likewise stayed under the cover of the dojo.

The Waseda Kyudo Circle is about 60 percent male and 40 percent female, definitely a strong selling point when recruiting new members.

NOTE: Japanese martial arts are not exclusively male or female, but I believe kyūdō has the highest level of female participation with the exception of naginata, a form of halberd that according to the All Japan Naginata Federation was first used by warrior priests in 750 AD and later adopted by the warrior class until the 1500 when musketry limited its' use to warrior priests and women. Sumo was solely the domain of men, but with its' recent world wide popularity I understand even that longstanding tradition has ended.

After lunch some were entranced by the beckoning warm afternoon sunlight. They fell prey to more than a nap, though, as others took the opportunity to catch them unawares...

Getting tackled might be an abrupt way to end a siesta, but "boys will be boys," as the saying goes.

The girls were much better behaved than the boys...

Practice after lunch was a casual affair. Even though we kept busy with the rotations between target practice, training and other responsibilities there was lots of time to spend time with friends.

But by the end of practice everyone was tired. I was exhausted not only from learning the hassetsu but also the additional effort of listening and speaking in Japanese. I was seriously looking forward to the sento!

Supper was a new experience for me. We were having nabe, which describes any stew-like dish which is usually cooked at the table in a tall skillet or pot. Sukiaki is a specific kind of nabe that features thinly sliced beef. Our nabe included seafood, different vegetables and mushrooms.

Being clueless, I followed everyone else's example. The small stove is lit and the pot covered while the ingredients simmer. Occasionally one lifts the lid to turn the food so it cooks evenly.

While we are waiting we have several other things to taste. After a while one can start eating the nabe as diffferent parts finish cooking. Nabe is definitely a social food. The process is so drawn out it is easy to find yourself in different conversations. I found it interesting that the fuel for the stove ran out minutes after the nabe was done.

After supper and a bath everyone was waiting for the evening's nomikai to start. Some of my room mates started an improvised takkyuu, or table tennis, match. I was very impressed with their skill. They even had time to pose for a picture in the middle of a volley. They kept it up for a long time, too.

The nomikai started with an announcement of the randomly-selected teams for the next day's kyūdō match. It generated a lot of excitement and people were commenting among themselves about the different teams. Slips of paper were also handed out and we were to select the best performers in different categories for the match, kind of like an office pool during football season.

Another remarkable event was the appearance of several racoons.

NOTE: Japanese racoons can get quite large and are supposed to have special powers. They also have a reputation for playing tricks on unsuspecting travelers.

During the nomikai we also had a otanjoubi (birthday) celebration.

This may be an ancient Japanese custom handed down through the centuries... or not!

Week 6: Golden Week, part 2a

2006-06-12T22:30:00.000+09:00

Minna-san, I apologize for the missing pictures and segmented story. Blogger is still working on some problems related to uploading pictures.

The Kyūdō gasshuku (training camp) was held in Chiba ken Sasagawa machi (town).

We did the Japanese version of a carpool and met with all our clothes and gear at the train station. Our group left from Nippori eki (station). As we left Tokyo we saw fewer and fewer high-rise buildings and huge manshons (apartment buildings with three or more floors) and more and more trees and open places.

Sasagawa is out in the country. We passed several farming towns and lots of rice fields (Please ignore my finger...). I was very surprised to see that the layout of farm buildings and equipment was identical to the many I have seen in the southern and western United States. If not for the architecture I could easily imagine myself in east Texas.

The trip was interesting because of everyone I got to chat with and - to a lesser extent - the scenery.

It took two hours and a change in train lines at Narita eki to make it to Sasagawa. I would have been hopelessly lost if not for everyone looking out for me! Here we are getting our gear ready for the bus trip to the ryokan, a traditional Japanese inn, where we will spend two nights and three days.

Oh. It's the gear which gets the bus trip. The rest of us walk to the ryokan. It's not far, though. Sasagawa isn't that big. And it is a beautiful clear day. Kuuki ga oishii desu! The air is delicious!

We meet the lady in charge of the ryokan at the front door and she formally welcomes us. We in turn thank her for her hospitality. We quickly unpack - most senior get the room closest to the dining hall, underclassmen are off down the hall. Girls have their own section - closest to the ofuro (baths). I bunk with the younger guys in a huge washitsu (Japan-style "harmony room," usually with tatami floors and sliding doors). We each get a futon with a huge fluffy comforter on which to sleep. Everyone changes into dougi and hakama - except me, because I don't have one yet - and takes off for the kyūdō dojo on the other side of town.

kyūdōka (kyūdō players) are very serious about caring for equipment. Individuals inspect their bow for warping and excessive bending. When everyone has their gear unlimbered we line up by rank and file and go through our opening ceremony which includes bowing to our leaders and bowing to some symbol. In our dojo "back home" there are only flags, so it was easy for me to see this as honoring the tradition, the heritage, of this sport. In this dojo there is a little Shinto shrine to the god of the dojo, and as a Christian I have a mild panic attack.

The inspiration that seized me was the Bible passage about eating meat sacrificed to idols. In my heart there is only One God, and in this case faith and action are - to me - completely separate. Even as I write this I know some will question my integrity as a Christian, but realize also that there are probably more Japanese reading this page than Americans. That said, I cherish your counsel and prayers - even if you think I've gone heathen. (^-^)

They divide into teams to rotate through playing kyūdō, retrieving ya (arrows) and training the newbies. This one group of attractive young people are not fighter pilots. They are seniors from one team handing off a trainee to the next team at a shift change. In this case they are discussing the trainees flaws so the next team knows what to watch. The trainee in question is *me*. (T0T)

I am not alone in this lavish attention. To either side people are practicing with gomuyumi (rubber bow) and boya (fletchless arrow) under the watchful eye of experienced and skillful kyūdōka.

The gomuyumi is a large loop of heavy surgical tubing attached to a short handle to simulate the grip and tension of a full-sided bow. Practicing with the gomuyumi seemed a bit childish at first, until I realized how it was the most effective tool for safely and inexpensively teaching basic motions.

As a trainee progresses in ability, difficulty is added, usually in the way of making it one step more realistic. As one masters one step they can progress to another. Here kyūdōka are shooting real arrows at real targets with seniors watching their form and offering suggestions. From an outside perspective this may seem bothersome or restrictive, but everyone takes turns taking care of each other, and everyone watches over the newbies. It not only ensures skills are passed down correctly from generation to generation, but also builds a deep sense of interdependence.

We practice until 5PM and then head back to the ryokan. I am dead tired! We all - except for the women - bag it until supper time. The ladies help with the ryokan staff to set the dining hall for supper. When I found out there were people working I tried to help, but was *kindly* pushed aside. This was their job, and they did it happily - without male interference.

NOTE: Gender roles are much more defined and go much much deeper in Japan than in America. Japanese society is so interwoven with these interlocking systems of responsibility it is difficult (nigh impossible) to change one thread of behavior without regard for the entire tapestry of society. This difficulty is often seen in the workplace when progressive western methods are attempted - then discarded when less than successful - without comprehensive consideration of the corporate culture and the cultural context of the workforce.

Supper is served and we all give thanks, which in Japanese is itadakimasu!, I am about to humbly partake. People in the US often grumble about food served at functions like this, but this food was excellent! Notice how we are all sitting on small pillows on the floor. The tables are so low that I have great difficulty sitting cross-legged with my knees under the table. (^-^);

After supper people head for the bath rooms. The guys have the ofuro tonight but trade with the girls for the sento tomorrow. An ofuro is a bath tub. A single-person ofuro would be taller - and shorter - than a standard tub in the US. This ofuro would fit six or eight and is about 38°C. A sento is a "public" bath house, usually with several styles of ofuro. As I would find out later, the sento here had two large ofuro, each about 42°C - what Tokyo-ites consider "ideal." _(@-@)_

NOTE: Convert °C to °F by multiplying °C by 9/5 then adding 32.

At this point I realize I forgot to bring a towel. The other foreigner with us also forgot to bring a towel. Together we go and find the ryokan staff to ask for help. They don't have towels for us to borrow, but as a saabisu (service) we are given a hand towel and a toilet kit. Service in Japan means "something extra for free." It is similar to the Louisiana expression lagniappe. I check out the toilet kit and find a tooth brush, tooth paste and a razor... which I suddenly realize I have also forgotten! "Thankful" would be an understatement!

But the towel is too small, WAAAY too small. It is after 7PM and we decide to go on a quest for bath towels. There is a small conbini near us, but it is already closed. We trek all the way back to the train station and find a conbini still open - but with only one large towel. That *stupid* towel cost me sen'en (ten bucks)!

Towel in hand, I have my first experience with public bathing in Japan.

NOTE: In Japan one washes and rinses thoroughly - usually while sitting on a short stool in front of an equally short shower - and THEN one bathes. NEVER EVER EVER get in an ofuro without washing and rinseing first! People often shower again after bathing.

At 9PM we assemble in the dining hall for the nomikai, literally "(to)drink meeting." As with any social event where food and drink is involved, a kampai is required. Here Fujiki san, as leader of Honjin, is giving the short speech that precedes the kampai.

NOTE: Don't drink anything until the kampai.

Nomikais and similar social events are opportunities for nomunication (nomu, to drink + communication). This time - whether or not it involves alcohol - is an unique moment in Japanese social hierarchy where the rules regarding age and rank are relaxed and people communicate. And have fun... LOTS of fun.

Here I am with Sano san. Sano san is an O.B., an "Old Boy" (alumnus) in Japanese terminology, but takes time from work to spend time at the dojo and special events like this. He is universally respected by Honjin members, and I have heard several affectionately refer to him as the father of the Waseda kyūdō circle. Nomunication gives us the opportunity to meet and talk with a degree of informality that in other social situations would be inappropriate.

The nomikai lasts for hours. I go to bed at 1AM with about 2/3 of everyone still going strong...

Week 6: Golden Week, part 1

2006-06-05T23:26:00.000+09:00

This is the long-overdue Golden Week installment.

Golden Week is a series of holidays that take up most of a week. I'm a bit uncertain about the history of the separate holidays, but I think the names (and purposes) have changed over time. Right now we have Constitution Day on Wednesday, National Day on Thursday and Childeren's Day on Friday. Boy's Day, also known as Koinobori, is Friday. No one seems to do much on Monday or Tuesday and, like Ohanami, everyone seems to have a place to go or something to do for the five day weekend.

Because of the short week there were really only two significant events, a welcome dinner party for new IMBA Japanese Trackers and a trip to Chiba-ken with Honjin, the Waseda University Kyūdō Circle.

Cave Escoffier

The dinner party was hosted by Sekine shachou and his wife at Cave Escoffier, a very nice French restaurant in Ginza. Did I mention it was a formal event? Each course and corresponding drink was a separate work of art. The etiquette training we had during our first year of the IMBA program and the time with the IMBA Wine Society proved very useful.

I can't recall all of what we ate but one unique dish was a seafood custard, a seafood/vegetable flan with prawns. It was very good, but unlike anything I have eaten in the US.

Sekine shachou is a former graduate of what is now called the International MBA program at the University of South Carolina and a strong supporter of the Japanese Track. In the picture he and his wife are seated in the middle on the left.

I suppose this is as good a place as any to mention Japanese honorifics. In Japanese society everyone is addressed by their last name, followed by the suffix -san which is roughly equivalent to "Mr." or "Ms." It doesn't matter if they are male or female, everyone is -san. Shop clerks often call their customers 0-kyaku-sama, which is "honorable customer sir/ma'am."

There are two categories of exceptions of which I am aware. One pertains to familiarity or relationship and the other to titles and advanced learning.

Very young boys are addressed using the -kun suffix with the first name and girls using -chan. By junior high or high school most boys drop the -kun in favor of -san, but girls may keep the -chan until college or they start work. Using -san shows respect, while the -kun and -chan suffixes are somewhat diminuative.

The -kun and -chan suffixes may also be used by close or childhood friends while other, less familiar individuals would use -san when addressing a young man or woman. If a couple is dating, they may start off using -san with the last name, then progress to using -san with the first name, and -kun or -chan in informal settings. A variation of -chan is -tan, but it is not mainstream Japanese terminology; use it out of place and people will think you are really weird.

If a group is mixed in terms of familiarity it is best to use -san, even if a more personal or informal suffix is acceptable in private. Using the first name with the honorific shows a significant degree of familiarity. I am told many Japanese feel uncofortable being addressed by their first name.

Suffixes related to title or advanced learning are usually used within a company, the govornment, doctors and teachers. Doctors and teachers - including martial arts instructors - are addressed as -sensei, but medical doctors may also be addressed as -isha. In some cases the name is dropped and a person is addressed by the honorific alone.

Japan is also quite unique with respect to the sempai/kouhai relationship. It is a kind of mentoring relationship and is found throughout Japanese society. In general terms sempai are upperclassmen or seniors and kouhai are underclassmen or juniors. There is a great deal of obedience and respect expected from the kouhai and the sempai is responsible for the kouhai's development and general well-being within the organization. As I learned in the Cadet Corps, RHIP (Rank Hath It's Privileges), but RHIR (Rank Hath It's Responsibilities). Kouhai often address sempai as -sempai or just plain "sempai." Sempai may address kouhai as -kun or -san, depending on the organization and situation.

Within a company, for example, a section chief or general manager would properly be addressed by last name followed by title. Sekine-san is President of Nikko Chemicals Co., Ltd., therefore he is addressed as Sekine-shachou (President Sekine).

After the dinner we had the opportunity to stroll through the Ginza, a very famous and historic shopping district in Tokyo. This is the IMBA Japanese Track, Class of 2008. From the left is Dan, Ryan, Peter, Andrew, (Me) and Courney. In front is Eli's wife Amy and Eli. Amy is a professional artist studying pottery at a famous school in Japan.

Even the food sold by vendors on the street was worthy of the reputation. These are plain and matcha (Japanese green tea) mochi (rice paste) filled with adzuki (sweet red bean) and picture-perfect giant ichigo (strawberries).

It is not uncommon to find a shop of some kind in Tokyo that predates the founding of America. One I found was established in the mid-seventeenth century. I am told there is a sake-ya in Takadanobaba that has been at that same location for over 600 years. That is older than most countries!

This Ginza landmark clock tower is a good reminder that one needs to be where one wants to be by 10PM or plan on staying until the morning. The JR (Japan Railway) lines usually shut down within a few minutes of midnight and stay shut down until 5:30AM or so. Local lines and subways start shutting down after 10PM.

I've made the mistake twice. Once I got caught in Shinjuku during a transfer between lines. I was able to walk home, but it took some time. The second time I was on the other side of Tokyo and had to stay in a hotel. A taxi ride home would have cost more!

つづく。。。　TO BE CONTINUED...

PS: Blogger is having technical problems. I understand the servers were down for a while, now many people can not upload pictures. *sigh* including me. Hopefully my writing will spark your imagination and you will see Japan through the eyes of your heart...

PPS: Until now we have had short rain showers every other day or two or three, followed by the same number of clear days. The cool crisp days of Ohanami are just a memory as it gets warmer - and warmer... Tsuyu, the rainy season, is about two weeks in the middle of Summer where it rains all day long. Already we can feel tsuyu approaching in longer, heavier rain storms. It is not tsuyu yet, but it is starting to feels like it.

INTERMISSION: Japan Has Layers

2006-05-27T21:39:00.000+09:00

I am always searching for new ways to describe Japan to others. My explanations are usually anecdotal, but I have stumbled across an archetype that has been very useful for not only providing a common referent to others, but also helping me personally find an emotional and intellectual handle for what I am experiencing.

You may have seen the 2001 animated movie Shrek with voice actors Mike Myers and Eddie Murphie. Here is an excerpt from the script I found on the Internet Movie Script Database:

SHREK
Written by William Steig & Ted Elliott

Donkey and Shrek are now walking through the field heading away from DuLoc. Shrek is munching on an onion.

DONKEY: Let me get this straight. You're gonna go fight a dragon and rescue a princess just so Farquaad will give you back a swamp which you only don't have because he filled it full of freaks in the first place. Is that about right?

SHREK: You know, maybe there's a good reason donkeys shouldn't talk.

DONKEY: I don't get it. Why don't you just pull some of that ogre stuff on him? Throttle him, lay siege to his fortress, grinds his bones to make your bread, the whole ogre trip.

SHREK: Oh, I know what. Maybe I could have decapitated an entire village and put their heads on a pike, gotten a knife, cut open their spleen and drink their fluids. Does that sound good to you?

DONKEY: Uh, no, not really, no.

SHREK: For your information, there's a lot more to ogres than people think.

DONKEY: Example?

SHREK: Example? Okay, um, ogres are like onions. (he holds out his onion)

DONKEY: (sniffs the onion) They stink?

SHREK: Yes - - No!

DONKEY: They make you cry?

SHREK: No!

DONKEY: You leave them in the sun, they get all brown, start sproutin' little white hairs.

SHREK: No! Layers! Onions have layers. Ogres have layers! Onions have layers. You get it? We both have layers. (he heaves a sigh and then walks off)

DONKEY: (trailing after Shrek) Oh, you both have layers. Oh. {Sniffs} You know, not everybody likes onions. Cake! Everybody loves cakes! Cakes have layers.

SHREK: I don't care... what everyone likes. Ogres are not like cakes.

DONKEY: You know what else everybody likes? Parfaits. Have you ever met a person, you say, "Let's get some parfait," they say, "Hell no, I don't like no parfait"? Parfaits are delicious.

SHREK: No! You dense, irritating, miniature beast of burden! Ogres are like onions! End of story. Bye-bye. See ya later.

DONKEY: Parfaits may be the most delicious thing on the whole damn planet.

SHREK: You know, I think I preferred your humming.

DONKEY: Do you have a tissue or something? I'm making a mess. Just the word parfait make me start slobbering.

# # #

The illustration works like this: Japan has layers. Japanese culture, Japanese people, everything. They all have layers.

Many people come to Japan and avoid "going deeper." They tend to isolate themselves and complain about how this or that is different where they come from. In my experience they tend to be arrogant, bitter people and no fun at all. I suppose everyone has a reason. For myself, I found that the trauma of experiencing what heretofore had been the domain of books and Internet articles had made me a bit gun shy of trying new things.

I have always enjoyed animated films and Shrek especially for it's the depth of story and character. In working through some of the high context attributes of Japanese culture it was natural to think of the issues in terms of layers.

By high context I mean that because so much is culturally ingrained - and I mean everything from gender roles to going shopping - behavior, responsibilities, expectations are simply understood from the situation and therefore there is no need for questions or explanations. By contrast American culture is low context. Questions and explanations are a part of life.

Well, once I started thinking about layers...

People can look at situations as onions or parfaits. Life hands us an onion instead of a parfait. Sometimes we have to eat our veggies, but there's always room for dessert!

Since applying the Shrek illustration to living in Japan I have come to realize I actually have the power to choose parfaits over onions. I can make the deliberate decision whether or not I will have a bad time or a good time, whether I will despise or cherish, whether I will shrink back or lay hold of the day in faith and courage.

I'm already starting to slobber...

Healthcare in Japan (Week 6 +)

2006-05-25T21:03:00.000+09:00

I missed my regular post - and the two after that - because of a cold I caught just after the Golden Week vacation. I wasn't alone, as maybe one in five people I saw after the following week had the sniffles, a cough or something like that. In most cases Japanese will wear a mask, which is only proper, so as to not give others their germs. There are exceptions, but it is rare. At first it's a bit odd seeing people in masks, but after a while you silently praise their upbringing for being such conscientious individuals.

It took two weeks to shake the cold, partly because I never let myself mend properly and partly because of the state of Japanese retail pharmacology. When I noticed the symptoms I immediately went to the kusuri-ya, or drug store, near my house.

NOTE: Drug stores in Japan are as common as conbinis and sakeyas, which is to say they are very common. They sell hair care products, beauty supplies, bandages, sun tan lotion, vitamins and such, just like the drug stores in the US, but anything stronger herbal tea and cough drops is behind the counter.

I described my symptoms to the kusuri-ya-san and he picked out a box from among the cornucopia of medicine behind the counter. The package was entirely labeled in Japanese, but the kusuriya-san explained the proper dosage - in Japanese.

Thank you Wada sensei for making sure our conversational Japanese included a trip to the doctor!

NOTE: Japanese medicine is usually packaged in smaller units than in the US. For instance, the package of 40 tablets I purchased at the kusuriya were only 20mg each. Consider aspirin in the US, which comes in 200mg and even 500mg tablets. The dosing is also different. Japanese products will list several age and weight ranges for each additional unit, whereas in the US it is usually "one for children, two for adults."

I reread the instructions - which were mostly in kanji - and after converting my weight to metric realized I was to take six pills every four hours. Let's see... six pills times four or five times a day... I just spent 12 bucks for 40 pills... I would need a refill in a day and a half. /(>_<)
I tried the medicine for a full day and my symptoms worsened. I went back to the package and hacked through the list of ingredients (Latin/English chemical names rendered into Japanese via katakana) and discovered that the "medicine" was 85 percent acetomenophin... which is the active ingredient in Tylenol. (ò_ó)9

NOTE: Most over-the-counter cold medicine in Japan is significanly weaker than similarly available products in the US. Stronger medicine is only available by prescription in Japan. Because of this, many Japanese skip the drug store and go directly to the hospital when they catch a cold.

NOTE: Japanese National Health Insurance Scheme will cover 70 percent of medical care, but requires an application in person at the ward office after completion of Gaikoukujin Tourokusho (Alien Registration) and an intent to stay 12 months. It is also required if you plan to stay at least one year in Japan. The Government has a system where they will waive 70 percent of the premium if the applicant is a non-wage earner (i.e. student), but this requires an additional application. The premium waiver is easy to obtain when applying for the National Health Insurance. With the waiver the one year premium for a single adult is about ¥20,000.

The next day I went to a Don-Ki-o-te and spent about 45 minutes in their cold medicine section with a Japanese-English dictionary. Most of what I found was either an herbal-based product with no true medical claims, primarily aspirin, acetomenophin or ibuprofen, or made for children. I eventually found a product called minii kappsuru (mini-capsule) - apparently because it is a tiny liquid filled capsule - that listed the kanji for "cold" and included a cross-sectional cartoon of an adult with the head, nose and throat highlighted in red.

This medicine was effective, but only for a couple of days. Classmates from America offered some of their personal stash when the minii kappsuru stopped working. Thanks to them I was able to attend class again.

LESSON 1: If it is legal, bring your own stuff. Some of the medicine you are used to in the US may not be legal in Japan.

LESSON 2: Get over any "It's not serious enough to go to the hospital" ideas. Unless you have exactly what you need or are fluent in Japanese, skip the hassle and see the professionals. Besides, nurses in Japan have a reputation for being *amazingly* cute. (It sure beats a poke in the eye...)

Incidentally, I got my Gaikoukujin Tourokusho about two weeks before getting sick, but didn't put a priority on going downtown to the Shinjuku ward office (The ward office is in Kabukicho and I strongly dislike Kabukicho). Once I was sick I was too sick to get the Kenkou Houken Sho, the National Health Insurance Card. I have it now. []\(^-^);

NOTE TO FUTURE PROGRAM CANDIDATES:

The insurance fee you pay as a part of your registration, the Gakusei Kenkou Houken Kumiai, will cover 20 percent of out-of-pocket medical expenses, which is 6 percent of the total. There is a Medical Care Assistance Scheme for Foreign Students which will reimburse 80 percent of medical expenses not covered by the kenkou houken, or the remaining 24 percent of total medical expenses. Reimbursement requires an application at the Center for International Education (WaDai building 22, 4th floor, next to the Center for Japanese Language) by the 5th of the following month. Go there with a Kenkou Houken Sho, bank information and an invoice from the hospital.

NOTE-NOTE: The Gakusei Kenkou Houken Kumiai will make reimbursement to a Japanese bank account, dake. A post office savings account will not satisfy these requirements.

With the three separate coverage systems foreign students at Waseda have 100 percent coverage, except in the case of a traffic accident where the assailant is cleary known, normal pregnancy, cosmetic surgery and general health check-ups. Remember to turn in the Kenkou Houken Sho to the ward office when you move. They have a system for reimbursing unused premium, but it may be discounted for transaction fees, etc. You will need to reapply at the new ward office, but if you are working as an intern at that point you may not qualify for the low income fee waiver (yet to be discovered).

Week 5: How to Study Japanese Culture

2006-05-12T19:28:00.000+09:00

One thing I am very conscious of is the inconvenience I am to others by being a semi-functional semi-illiterate in a country renouned for literacy. I'm very grateful to the people who are gracious and patient as I hack through grade school level concepts like they are rocket science. I can't even put into words my regard for those who both encourage me and challenge me to learn.

I've come to peace with store clerks who are so lackadaisical that they mumble through everything with a half-hearted sing-song, not even bothering to look at the person. I now consider those who smile kindly and clearly state the total price in standard Japanese as a special treat. \(^-^)/

Week 5 is the last full week before the Golden Week holidays. This picture is of the Nishi Waseda Campus during lunchtime. I sometimes take a bento (box lunch) and sit on the benches seen on the right.

Kendō is also becoming an anticipated activity. Two days a week may not seem like much, but my muscles have officially filed a protest. I'm told we may be ready for full bogu (armor) in another six weeks or so. I had the opportunity to watch a practice at the Waseda University dojo and realized I still have a long, long way to go. At this point we're still learning to walk in a straight line... (-.-);

Teaching English

This week also marks the start of teaching English for Nikko Chemicals, Ltd. My first class had three students. I had a curriculum prepared, but it looks like I will have to modify it considerably to meet their needs. I believe it's an old military adage that "no plan of battle survives contact with the enemy." Chalk one down for old sayings...

Gauging were everyone was in terms of English language ability took most of the class. It would not be an understatement though, to say their English is better than my Japanese.

After the class they took me out to dinner at a neighborhood Chinese restaurant. The food was excellent. They wouldn't let me chip in at the end because I haven't received my first paycheck. I guess it will be my turn soon! From left to right is Fukuda-san, Yoko-san and Shibata-san.

Japanese Classes for me are improving, but there's still a lot of studying to do. My number one nemesis is listening. The school has native Japanese speakers volunteer to sit with us in class one or two days a week to help with the lessons. Arai sensei took this picture of us after doing an exercise where we took turns asking people to stand in front of / behind/ next to/ between/ different people. The volunteers are another group of people for whom I am grateful.

Banking

I finally found a bank that will do business with me. The first bank I tried had very convenient branches. It had a posted requirement that I must have proof of my intent to stay in Japan for more than six months in order to open an account. I wait in line and when my turn comes the bank manager tells the assistant manager to tell me that what they meant was that I had to be a permanent resident for at least six months before I could open an account. The assistant manager was sincerely apologetic and recommended CitiBank which has English speaking staff at all branches, but not many branches.

The next bank I tried would let me open an account, but would only let me withdraw funds in person from that one branch. I would need a registered hanko to use the services of other branches. A hanko is an official stamp that works like a signature and is patterned off a person's name.

I made a few inquiries and found that Shinsei Bank has a moderate number of branches, very western-like service policies, and English language instructions. "Very western-like service policies" means basic services are free and there are almost no service charges. Their branch in Shinjuku is only a fifteen minute walk from my house. Along the way I start to photograph tall things. Shinjuku is FILLED with tall things! I like this picture because if I look at the sky long enough I can imagine myself on some space station looking down at Earth.

Cultural Exchange at Kansen-en Park

On Friday Honda sensei quizzes us on our intensions for studying over the weekend. I say I am going to study Japanese culture through meeting various Japanese people. It was my way of saying I would be staying away from the books and looking for fun. >(^-^)< After class Eli tells me Peter found a pond by a temple near the campus and he was going to take a bike trip to check it out. It turns out that Kansen-en Park is only a block from the campus and completely surrounded by tall buildings and mass transportation.

Even so, the densely wooded park behind the temple is peacefully quiet and the entire city seems to disappear like a fog.

The pond in the middle of the park is beautiful. Small dirt and stone paths meander between flowering trees and shrubs.

There is an incredible relaxing sense of solitude.

Suddenly, a band of giggling children run up on us!

"Nan jin desu ka?" They ask. Eli says, "Amerika jin desu." They shout to their friends, "Amerika jin da yo! Amerika jin da yo!"

In moments we're stampeded by children all trying to tell us their name and say "hello" - in English!

Their mothers soon follow and we introduce ourselves. By the way, business cards are excellent tools for cross cultural communication.

The next half hour was constant motion as kids did kid things and we just tried to keep up.

At one point an older gentleman came down to the pond to feed the huge koi bread crumbs. For a few moments we lost our fan club as they flocked to this new source of excitement.

Eli persisted in trying to strike up a conversation. He found that they had been to a park famed for the deer, so he tried asking them about the deer. He couldn't remember the Japanese word for "deer" so he tried acting out the part.

I have really good pictures of Eli hopping around with his hands like antlers on his head!

Eli wouldn't give up, though. He eventually discovered they liked to count.

Ichi, ni, san, shi, go... roku... nana, hachi, kyuu... juu!

Ni-juu! San-juu! Yon-juu! Go-Juu!

And soon he was surrounded by hilariously laughing children as they tried to teach each other to count.

One, two, three, four. Twenty, thirty, forty... More!

Anyone who likes Dr. Seuss would have enjoyed Eli's repertoire.

But kids being kids, they soon found other things to do and were galloping about the park chasing each other, climbing rocks and laughing.

I guess I really did end up doing Japanese homework...

Kyūdō

On Sunday I meet with some of the Honjin members at Kanda station, which is between Akihabara and Tokyo stations. Honjin is the name of the Waseda University Kyūdō Circle. The word honjin dates back to the Warring States period and refers to the general's camp or command post on the battle front. In this picture they are taking ichi nen sei (first year students, i.e. freshmen) to a shop specializing in Japanese archery equipment in preparation for the shinkan gasshuku, the new-member-welcome-party-training-camp to be held during gourudenuiiku yasumi next week.

With a lot of help from the Honjin members and the staff I bought a kake with two kakeshita, a ropponzoro with matching makiwara and a yazutsu.

When I first visited a Kyūdō practice I asked different people why they chose this sport rather than any of the others. Everyone had a different reason but nearly everyone said that they enjoyed the good feeling. At first I thought this was some kind of Zen meditation phenomena. But at practice this time I think I discovered what they meant:

Pulling that huge bow takes effort. If you have bad form, it takes a lot of effort. If you have good form it is like... well... things glide into place as if they were always meant to do so. It really does feel really good.

Practice is hugely crowded, but still a lot of fun. The circle actively works as a team to mentor one another. I wish others could experience the unique dynamics of this group.

The nomikai is at a more traditional Japanese restaurant. We take over their washitsu, or Japanese-style room with sliding doors and tatami floors with short short tables where you have to sit on the floor. At first sitting on the floor is awkward. My knees may disagree, but after a while it becomes very natural.

The food is very good, and I am introduced to a new favorite drink called yuzu. Yuzu is a Japanese lime. It was described as being round like an orange but yellow like a lemon. The picture is from Trade Winds Fruit Tropical Fruit Database.

I'm still having some difficulty with trains, usually with transfers. Here Midori-san and Keiko-san make sure I get on the right train.

Notice the bangles on the keitai (cell phone)? Called keitai sutorappu, most all Japanese have them as a way to personalize this ubiquitous appliance. I have yet to pick one out for mine. The concept carries over to the yazutsu. With everyone's equipment stacked along the wall it makes it very convenient to spot your own.

I'm still two weeks behind in my posts. I will try to get caught up soon... (^-^);

Week 4: Tokyo Metropolitan Government Office

2006-05-07T19:54:00.000+09:00

Week four starts with a bike trip to the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Office in Shinjuku with Eli and Peter.

There's lots of beautiful architecture and Eli and Peter are filled with awe at the sight (actually, they are looking at blue sky and just look like they are admiring the architecture).

NOTE: Tokyo is a place where I can look like a tourist without fear of being mugged. Even natives go from place to place with maps and guidebooks. The thing that seems to separate true locals from out-of-towners is the use of keitai even when walking.

The Tokyo Metropolitan Center has two towers, both with observation platforms open to the public. We try the North tower first. Peter's Japanese is much better than mine and he has Security direct us to the express elevator to the observation deck, which is down one floor from the street level.

The North tower is filled with gift shops. It's a bit overcast, but you can see a long ways in nearly all directions. We have time so we go back down and try the South tower. The South tower rocks. It has a cafe perfect for a romantic date (Pete and Eli are both married, so I overhear them planning special evenings for their wives), and the observation towers are open until 11PM. I bet it's absolutely gorgeous being surrounded by an ocean of lights...

Tokyo is such a fascinating city. There is so much visual pandemonium. It's an electrified hodgepodge of architectural this-and-that. I can only describe it as "nothing matches, but everything fits." A friend from New Dehli agreed with my observation, adding "In India, nothing matches - and nothing fits!" I like this picture because Tokyo Tower is just visible (a bit left of center) and the entire city seems to rise up to form a bowl around Yoyogi Koen (Yoyogi Park).

At the base of the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Office is Shinjuku Central Park. The park has beautiful winding pathways, ancient trees and spacious lawns. At the very foot of the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Office is a huge plaza. The plaza seems to be a magnet for performers of all types. There was a dance troupe dressed up as samurai doing a stylized jazz routine with wooden swords by the waterfall at the end of the plaza. It looks like they are practicing their routine for a later formal production.

There was also a group of young people with bokken, or wooden swords. They would spar one-on-one, one-on-two and two-on-two in mock battles. They would never trade blows, just act menacing and try to maneuver their opponent into an exposed position. It was very entertaining, which I think was the entire point.

Peter brought a frisbee, so we proceed to wear ourselves out running and jumping and chasing the thing around the plaza. I made a bad shot (one of many) and it looked like I would hit a lady walking her dogs. But she thought it was good sport and tried to chase it down. She nearly caught it! She laughed and laughed and everyone applauded her effort. Eli noticed a young boy with his mother watching us play, and he invited him to try it too.

At the end of the day I go with Eli to his favorite ramen shop. Ramen is Chinese noodles, altogether different from Japanese udon or soba noodles. The place has a real homey welcome atmoshpere. Eli recommends the pork, which I thoroughly enjoy. There's a plastic container at the back of the kitchen of what looks like hardboiled eggs soaking in soy sauce. I ask the ramen-ya-san and between their bad English and our bad Japanese, I discover they are softboiled eggs soaking in soy sauce. A person sitting next to me offers to let me eat half of one from his order. I'm grateful for the offer, but decline. Next time I'm there I will definitely order it!

Shin sensei posed for this picture. She sent it to her husband in South Korea and he (jokingly) replied "You're teaching English?" The "V for Victory" you see is an indigenous (and infectous) phenomenon.

Classes still have a "new" feel to them, but I think I'm starting to adjust. There's still a lot of frustration and confusion when someone says something in a conversational tone or speed and I don't understand the object, the verb, or the entire context. Ganbarimasu.

It rained one day this week, and I took this picture of the o-bento-ya across the street from the Japanese Language Center. It's popular with students even when it is raining. It seems to rain for a day or two then quit for a day or two. I tried several Internet weather channels, but until recently could not find one with accurate forecasts. I would check four different sites and get four different forecasts. I eventually stumbled upon "pinpoint" weather forecasts in Japanese which break Tokyo into individual wards. It was surprising to see how much the weather would differ between wards.

Here is a picture of Matsuda-san in front of Koinobori. Koinobori are carp (koi) flags shaped a bit like wind socks. It isn't very windy at the moment and the koinobori are a ways in the distance so it's hard to see the bright blue, green, red and orange scales. These koinobori are at least 3m long. The longer ones are twice that size.

Koinobori are only flown in this short season before the end of Golden Week, which is March 3-5 this year. They have their origin in an ancient story about a carp that swims up river and becomes stronger along the way. Eventually the carp reaches the headwater and becomes a dragon. The flags represent parents' wishes for their sons to grow up strong and full of endurance, just like the carp that struggles and overcomes and eventually becomes a dragon.

I forgot to mention, but we usually stop at a combini to buy lunch on our way from Kinshicho station to the Sports Center. We eat lunch together at the Sports Center before starting practice. Notice the "V for Victory."

My first three weeks were very difficult. The fourth week is primarily different because I am starting to feel comfortable being in environments where I understand very little. A lot of the anxiety has left and I find I can actually follow some conversations. I still have a long way to go, but at least now it doesn't feel impossible.

I've also learned to duck before going through doorways...
/(@_@)\

Week 3: Rain Puddles to Relationships

2006-04-29T18:57:00.000+09:00

My third week in Japan starts with a dinner party for new IMBA students in Japan, hosted by Nikko Chemical Company, Ltd. We have a wonderful time trying Japanese-styled pizza, different Chinese dishes, and meeting some of the people from Nikko and its subsidiaries. A number of USC IMBA alumni work for Nikko and there is a longstanding relationship we hope to continue.

One opportunity Nikko makes for us new IMBA students is the opportunity to teach English to employees. I may try it if my schedule allows.

Aside from the crust and the pizza box, Japanese pizza is radically different from stuff in America. I tried pizza with corn, mayonaise, squid, broccoli, and a few other toppings. They were all *suprisingly* good. The only exception was the tuna pizza, but that is probably just a personal preference. You should go ahead and try it, just to make sure.

The next day I had the opportunity to try a Japanese/Chinese/French fusion-cuisine baikingu, or smorgasbord, at a restaurant in Ikebukuro. It was the treat of Arai-san, the good friend of a good friend from South Carolina. I was very impressed with the atmosphere and the presentation. The most remarkable dish in my opinion was a pumpkin mousse with nuts. Food aside, it was a good time to build relationships.

Wednesday was the first day of classes. I mentioned previously that I was a little discouraged at starting at Level 1, but Honda sensei did a very good job of getting us motivated to learn Japanese. By second period I was greatly encouraged.

The first class was mostly spent learning about each other through jikoushoukai, or self-introduction, a very Japanese protocol that includes company and/or name, nationality or hometown, occupation, major or specialization, and hobbies. Here I am about to give my jikoushoukai.

It takes 15 minutes to bike to school, 30 minutes by train, and 45 minutes walking. On days that it rains I take the train because I have not yet developed the skill of riding a bike while holding an umbrella. Natives do it all the time.

Thursday it rained in the morning but was pleasant enough for a nice walk back. On my way through Toyama park I met a girl playing in the rain puddles. Her mother was there, so I took a few pictures.

This is Wang-chan in her new rain gear.

The sakura are persistent in blooming, even though most the trees are full of leaves now. At first I considered it a rivalry, but now I think they are complementary expressions of the season. Sakura represents beauty, courage and persistance, the green leaves represent stamina and longsuffering. It's as if the fleeting flower is teaching the slower but enduring leaf how to fulfill its unique role.

The morning rain had knocked down much of the sakura blossoms, giving a snow-like pink frosting to the park.

All my teachers are enthusiastic and encouraging. Kawaguchi sensei is director of Level 1 and Level 2 programs, and a friend of our Japanese teacher in South Carolina. Here he is going over proper pronunciation methods for different kana. I am never bored in class.

Watching him and the others teach I was reminded how much influence a leader has on an organization. If you watch carefully you can see how the personality and passion of the leader colors the organization. Another way to describe it is as an inaudable drum beat that creates a rhythm and cadence to to inspire and guide others. It is especially evident in the way people form the organization relate to others.

NOTE: Goma o suru, to grind sesame seeds, is the Japanese expression equivalent to "brown noseing."

I tried to get at least one picture from each class, but unfortunately some did not turn out. I will try to fill in the blanks in a future post.

I go back to the Shinjuku-ku Sports Center for the beginner-level kendo lessons. Remember what I said about being piñatas for the kids?

This is what I found when I got there...

Fortunately, three other people my size were also starting lessons with me. Izawa sensei is really good with kids, and he manages to keep eight more-or-less corraled and keeping up with the practice. The practice itself is fairly grueling for the larger beginners. Izawa sensei may be good with kids, but he is relentless with us big people! I don't understand about 95 percent of what is said, but Izawa sensei is patient and explains things through body language well.

The three other adults are also Japanese language students. Amin' is an MBA candidate on scholarship at Waseda University who is studying at the Japanese Language Center like me, but at a higher level. Noh and Kim are studying Japanese at a different school. Amin' is from Malaysia and both Noh and Kim are from South Korea (listed in order, L to R). We all speak English, but since we're here to study Japanese we make a conscious effort to converse in Nihongo dake, Japanese only.

We make plans to meet on Friday to go to a Kendo gear shop in Ikebukuro that has a reputation for quality and good prices. The basic equipment for a beginner is the kendogi, or heavy woven top garment, the hakama, the traditional bottom garment of warriors, and shinai, a proportionally-correct version of a katana "samurai sword" but made from four slats of bamboo. It is also necessary to buy the tsuba (hand guard) and a case or bag for the shinai. Bogu, or armor, will have to wait.

I am told carrying an un-cased training weapon in public will get you arrested.

Here is a pictue of Honda sensei. Honda sensei and Honda sensei have similar sounding names, but in Japanese their names are spelled differently. This is probably the clearest picture I can take of her. She may be part humming bird or part Tigger, because she is constantly in motion. I don't know if I have ever met a more energetic person.

¡NOTE! Sensei! You are not "flighty" like a bird, and you don't look like Tigger one bit!

Sunday means Kyudo practice. I really look forward to it because of the people I get to meet.

Here is a picture of Fujiki Junichi-san, leader of the Waseda University Kyudo Circle, by the genkan, or entrance, to the training hall in formal dress. He self-titled the picture "A Really Cool Guy."

Remember what I said about leaders and their effect on the group?

The practice ends with another dinner party at the restaurant by the station.

Most all Japanese names have a meaning associated with it. I've never been very good at remembering names, but I found it helps if I ask them the meaning behind their name. It's incredibly fascinating and educational, and opens a window into the heart of the person.

Of course I have had to share the meaning of mine, including my current nickname... >(^-^)<

Week 2: Piñatas, Shibuya and Kyudo

2006-04-23T21:03:00.000+09:00

Waseda University has several cafeterias, one of which is a short walk my classroom. It wasn't long after our placement exam results were released that I had an opportunity to have lunch with some new friends who would be in more advanced sections. Almost everyone I have met enjoys having their picture taken. Americans, in contrast, sometimes get cantankerous. The picture is from in front of the cafeteria with the (original) clock tower in the background.

Classes won't start until next Wednesday, so I have a few days to learn more about my surroundings. Even though I have a bicycle, sometimes it is nice to walk. I can take time to look in shop windows and linger by the restaurants where they cook the food right by the sidewalk where you can smell it. Excellent advertising if you ask me.

Thursday afternoon I go to the Shinjuku-ku Sports Center to watch the Waseda Kendo Circle practice. I sit seiza style on the hardwood floor with a couple of other prospective members for the first part of the practice. The practice is led by several older gentlemen who proceed to take on five or six college-aged combatants one after the other - for an hour and a half! I soon realized that even the worst of the Kendo circle was light years ahead of me in skill and ability, and that Kendo practice was not the best place to strike up a conversation.

After the practice one of the sensei leading the practice asked me about my interest and experience. Together we worked out that the Kendo circle was not for beginners and that if I wanted to learn I would have to start in the community class with children. I was still interested in Kendo, but it sounded like I might be a piñata at these community classes.

One evening some of my USC classmates and I go to Shibuya for dinner. I had thought I knew what crowded meant until I saw the intersection at the Hachiko exit of Shibuya station. This intersection is supposedly the most photographed intersection on the planet. Three huge television screens literally the size of large buildings loom over the intersection. The intersection itself - the space between street corners - seems to be about as wide as a football field.

The walk light turns green and it as if several thousand people suddenly rush out into the street and stand still. There are so many people crossing the intersection that it's hard to see movement. The walk light starts to blink, and the mass of people thins to the point where you can see several hundred still rushing across. The light turns red and the sidewalks start to fill with people waiting for the next walk light. No one seems upset at missing the light and having to wait. They are usually in groups and small parties seem to form while the intersection fills with cars and taxis. There's always the huge televisions to watch.

We try a few restaurants, but they are already full. We ended up at a sushi restaurant in the famous 109 Building. We ordered a lot of different things, my favorite being the conger eel makizushi and the grilled unagi nigirizushi. Unagi is freshwater eel, and probably the only meat that doesn't "taste like chicken."

NOTE: Sushi is marinated rice that is either patted into a small loaf and topped with some kind of meat and/or vegetable or rolled with meat and/or vegetables with a dried seaweed wrapper to keep it neat. Sashimi is raw fish.

There was a very nice Japanese couple next to us who were curious about what we thought of nihonshoku, Japanese food. My reply: Unagi ga subarashii desu! Unagi is wonderful!

Our last stop for the evening is a techno club near on "love hotel hill" not far from Ryan's apartment. I had never been to one before, especially in Japan, and it was an unique experience. Gaijin bars like this are like small oases for many expatriates in Japan. They are small nooks of imported culture that host a sense of familiarity. They are also popular with Japanese interested in experiencing Western culture or meeting Westerners.

NOTE: Gaijin is pejorative and literally means "outsider." It is a bit stronger than the Spanish word gringo. While it is often used by expatriates in Japan and sometimes by Japanese, it is generally considered rude. The word gaikokujin, or "outside country person," is suitable for polite company. Even so, gaijin bars are called gaijin bars or sometime expatriate bars, but not gaikokujin bars.

Sunday is my first practice with the Waseda Kyudo (pronounced kyuudou) Circle. We meet at Kinshichou eki minami guchi, or South exit, Kinshicho station and then walk to the local community sports center for practice. Right away I start meeting people like Ishiguro Yuri-san who volunteers at the Waseda University Center for Japanese Language to help English speakers learn Japanese. It's quite a hike to the practice, but the time goes quickly as I meet new people.

Practice is very interactive. All the inexperienced people are gathered at one end of the hall and the rest of the circle is divided into teams to rotate through their own practice and with helping train the newbies. In this picture Ishiguro-san is sitting seiza style with some others at the start of practice.

Seiza takes a bit of practice. If you are not careful your feet fall asleep and when it comes time to stand up you fall over (been there, done that).

Kyudo practice itself was a lot of fun, but even more enjoyable was the opportunity to meet the members. At this point about 20 percent of my converstation is in Japanese, 40 or 50 percent in English, and the rest in sign language. But regardless of the language, I feel these are genuinely wonderful people who really want me to learn their culture.

Moriyama Chie-san and Hirose Sou-san let me snap this picture before practice ends. The white shirt is a dogi, and the black skirt-like pants are hakama. The yumi, or bow, is about seven feet tall.

I learned a new word too: Yamato Nadeshiko. Yamato is an ancient word for Japan and Nadeshiko is one of the Seven Flowers of Autumn, a delicate lavender pink in color. Together, the words mean Traditional Japanese Beauty and describe a woman who exemplifies the highest qualities of traditional Japanese culture. Like the flower, a Yamato Nadeshiko may seem delicate and fragile but her meek and graceful demeanor hide considerable inner strength.

The best equivalent to the Yamato Nadeshiko that may be familiar to Westerners is not the American Beauty, but the Proverbs 31 Woman described in the Bible. The picture is from the Nagoya Port Wildflower Garden Wildflower Database.

The weekly Kyudo practice ends with a long walk back to the station and a dinner party at a nearby restaurant. I'm the one in the red shirt. And yes, we had a lot of fun!

Day 9: A Bike for Andrew

2006-04-22T20:57:00.000+09:00

Our placement exam results won't be ready until the afternoon, so I try shopping in the neighborhood. Shopping and cooking are probably the hardest day-to-day tasks for me. Packaged foods have pictures on the front which may or may not represent what is inside. Labels are often written in a sloppy brush stroke or highly-stylized kana that takes a long time to read. Instructions are written almost entirely in kanji. Sometimes there are English lables and/or pictures with the instructions; I tend to gravitate toward those products. I understand why there is so much bilingual packaging in the US now.

There are several nice produce shops in my neighborhood, but most of the vegetables are presently unidentifiable by me, and I don't know how to prepare them. There are probably six or eight common varieties of white rice at any grocery store. The stuff contains a lot of glucose, which makes it almost impossible to cook in a pot like American long grain rice. My roommate explained the kanji on our rice maker which is capable of making rice seven different ways, so I at least have rice to eat.

NOTE: In the US junk food is cheap and health food expensive. In Japan it is cheap to eat healthy and expensive to eat junk - usually American-style - food.

My ride to school usually lets me cross paths with interesting people. I would have to say that the most popular color in Japan is black. Second place isn't even close. If there is a second place, I think it is pink. Pink is sakura and girls. This little girl has a new bike. The picture loses a bit of the context. It's a very busy street lined with gray buildings. People dressed in black and charcoal bustle hither and thither. There is just one small mote of color in the midst of all this drab confusion...

The placement results were in, and I did worse than I had hoped. I'm now Nihongo leberu 1 (Japanese level 1). One of my classmates from USC is also level 1. Someone remarked that we placed relative to prior experience in Japan. The longer one had lived in the country, the higher they placed. At first I was discouraged, but it will give me the opportunity to build a broader foundation for my Japanese.

NOTE: In Japan everything is synchronized. All schools start at the semester and take vacations at the same time. Graduation happens at the same time across the country, so new employees start work at the same too.

Japan is famous for school entrance examinations and the competetive process of attending a preferred school. An eskareeda sukuuru, or "escalator" school is private school where one automatically is accepted to the next grade level. They are very expensive. Waseda has a high school a middle school, and prep school in addition to the university and the several campuses. Here are what I think are middle school students involved in some start of the new year event. The banner backward, but the "W" is for "Waseda" followed by the kanji for "school," "entrance" and I think "new." Some schools allow western dress but many have uniforms. The boys are organized by class and probably year.

Peter had discovered a used bike shop near the campus, and most all of the USC people ended up buying one there. I bought mine at the shop earlier, but this day a group of us went to help Andrew buy his. The husband and wife made a cute team. They are very friendly, the kind of people you could visit with all day. I would recommend their shop to anyone. Anyone nice, that is.

Day 8: Bike Trip to Ueno Park

2006-04-22T13:18:00.001+09:00

Although Ohanami was officially a few days ago, the sakura are still beautiful. Spring foliage is starting to creep in and the spectacular snow-pink now has competition with the shades of green found only in springtime. Toyama Park is about halfway on my bike route from the apartment and school.

Today we took a Japanese language proficiency test. Based on the results we will be placed in classes with a suitable difficulty level. The test was hard, but in an unexpected way. I would find myself reading an entire sentance but because I didn't understand just one word out of the lot I couldn't answer the question.

There are several different curriculum for teaching Japanese to English speakers. The problem is, they all start out with a different base vocablulary and people tend to have an expectation based on the curriculum with which they are familiar. For instance, The Tokyo Times system starts off with greetings, how to ask for things and how to count. The Japanese for Busy People system, I understand, addresses weather early on and to a greater degree. The curriculum is also geared to fit with the standardized Japanese Language Proficiency Exams. I think that whatever system is used, new language students end up strong in some areas and weak in others.

That afternoon I invite myself on a bike trip with Peter to Ueno Park. Ueno Park is a very famous park on the north side of central Tokyo. It was a big challenge to follow Peter through traffic. At this point I am still very clumsy on the bike and have to stop frequently to avoid running into people and things.

This picture is of a pretty quiet strech of road near the Tokyo Dome. On the way we went through a quaint little town that somehow seemed miles from the bustle of Tokyo. It was on a hill, and full of all kinds of boutiques, bakeries, coffee shops and restaurants. It smelled wonderful; I could have spent the whole day there with my eyes closed, just drinking in the atmosphere. I think the place is called Kagurazaka.

We make it to Ueno Park and find people feeding ducks, a flea market, a festival, and like a bajillion people. Peter and I split up, and I park the bike to experience the park on foot.

The flea market was small but interesting. There were some good deals, but most things were priced way too high. There was one shop that sold old china and wood carvings. Another sold beads and Buddhist iconry. At one shop I found a bunch of tsuba or tuba, the hand guard disk found on Japanese swords. Most on display were made of iron and fairly basic. Others were pierced with intricate designs and murals. In our mutual pidgin I was able to work out with the shopkeeper the purpose of a pair of little holes found in the solid disk designs. When sheathed, wire pokes through the holes so it can be twisted like a bread tie, locking the blade in the sheath.

There is a temple set out on what seems like and island in the middle of the marsh. The walk to the island is lined with food stalls creating a riot of sounds and smells. There was the Japanese version of a corndog, whole fish on a stick, yakisoba of various kinds, cotton candy, takoyaki, baked sweet potatoes, all kinds of rice crackers all kinds of peanuts, candied fruit, grilled vegetables, barbequed this-and-that, the list goes on. I wished I hadn't eaten such a big lunch!

Not far from the food was an arcade of game booths. The picture is of the classic Japanese matsuri event the Goldfish Scoop. The idea is to scoop fish into a bowl with a flat spoon. The trick is that the flat part of the spoon is paper and breaks under the weight of the fish if you are too rough or too slow. It was a lot of fun watching the kids; they were surrounded by a crowd of onlookers vicariously reliving their childhood and trying not to make too many suggestions or not to cheer too loud when a fish was properly scooped.

Across the road from the island was a huge set of stairs. The steps were originally rough cut for traction, but time and visitors have worn them smooth. At the top of the stairs I found a wide path full of people, a small stream dappled with sakura petals, and more stairs. The path wound around the hillside to a wide plaza adjacent to the zoo. every clear space of lawn was checkerboarded with dropcloths by had people continuing to celebrate Ohanami. Some of the groups were obviously work-related, but others were families and what looked like university students. The side of the walk closest to the grass was corded off and subivided into individual There was music, food, karaoke and drinking. Little kids were running about trying to scoop up handfulls of sakura petals.

NOTE: It is apparently taboo for foreigners to acknowledge each other on the street. This is a bit odd for someone who lived almost 20 years in the shadow of Texas A&M where it is considered rude not to greet strangers. The funny thing is, the lighter their complection, the more effort they seem to put into ignoring other pale-skins. I think it's hilarious - hilariously stupid. A couple of times I have been on a crouded train and made eye contact with a dark-skinned foreigner. We give each other a quick nod and smile, probably sharing a moment of satisfaction knowing we've bucked the system by acknowleging a perfect stranger in public.

At the top of the hill is a shrine or temple and small plaza. The steep path is treacherous because generations of pilgrims have worn ruts in the steps. I am rewarded for my efforts when I reach the top and two young ladies in beautiful kimonos have me take a picture of them under the sakura.

I understand that wearing a kimono is so involved that there are classes you take in order to do it properly.

There is a big statue of a large stocky man and a dog at the far end of the plaza. Lots of people are taking pictures of the statue, but the plaque is in kanji so I can only guess what it's about. It must be significant, because the statue faces an overlook of the city.

I take a few more pictures and bike home. The whole trip took about five hours, so I figure the bike could get me to most of the nearby tourist-worthy places for a day trip.

Day 7: Waseda Orientation

2006-04-19T19:07:00.000+09:00

Orientation at the Waseda University Center for Japanese Language is almost entirely in Japanese. Fortunately, they have a PowerPoint presentation with pictures and I can follow along.

We break for lunch, which is mostly sushi and some other popular Japanese, Korean and Chinese dishes. I met only one other American in the group of about 80, not including the six others from the Moore School of Business IMBA Japanese Track like myself. They were from places like Denmark, Poland, New Zealand, Australia, South Korea and China.

It was interesting to find that nearly everyone was at least conversationally fluent in English.

After lunch we tour the library and the student coop which is pronounced "co-o-pe" in Japanese. We have our student ID cards. I am now an official Waseda University student.

At this point I get separated from my group, then lost. I figure I'll make the being lost usefull, so I tour the plaza visiting various student organizations. I'm specifically interested in the Kendo and Kyudo circles. Kendo is Japanese fencing, and Kyudo, pronounced "Kyuudou," is Japanese archery.

I had been interested in Kendo for a while, but Kyudo was recommended by a Japanese classmate at USC. His rationale for Kyudo was "maahketing" (imitating the accent of one of our professors). One of my classmates from USC who in Japan at this moment iss already involved in Judo. Another is into Karate. I needed to "distinguish myself in the marketplace" through an unique activity. Preferrably it would be an activity that would get me publicity and let me meet eligible ladies. Kyudo is popular with women as well as men. He also recommended Sumo, pronounced "suMO," but I think he was joking... I hope he was joking! I think I would die of embarassment if I had to wrestle large men dressed only in a loincloth.

My priority here is to learn Japanese and to have fun meeting people and learning the culture. -- Although I have to admit, if a pretty young lady does somehow find her way into the picture I won't complain. As my dad has said, "It sure beats a poke in the eye."

Anyway, I run into someone carrying a very tall bow. A VERY tall bow. It's the Kyudo circle, and they welcome the opportunity for me to join one of their practices. They meet every Sunday afternoon at Kinshicho station. They seem like a fun group of people.

I can't find the Kendo circle, so I ask the Traditional Japanese Dance Club for directions. They also seem like a wonderful group of people.

NOTE: In Japan students don't join varsity or junior varsity sports, they join clubs. Clubs are very hierarchical in terms of upperclasment, senpai, and underclassmen, kouhai. People who join clubs are very serious about their sport, and they compete with other schools in their area and across the country. Waseda University Rugby Field Club (WURFC) has a famous and long-standing rivalry with Keio University, I understand. Circles, on the other hand, are much more relaxed and are preferred by people who like a certain activity but have other priorities too.

The folks at the Traditional Japanese Dance Club knew a young lady from the Kendo Club, who in turn showed me where the Kendo Circle was recruiting for members. No one spoke English, but we worked out an exchange of information and agreed to meet for one of their regular practices at the Shijuku-ku Sports Center. Their practice is on the day of the Fire, the Tree and the Earth, or Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday.

NOTE: A ku is a ward, one of 23 governmental subdivisions of Tokyo-to, or Tokyo prefecture. A prefecture is roughly akin to a State in the US and all prefectures in Japan are known as ken, except for outstanding historical cases like Tokyo.

I also met the Monster Movie Club (I may have their official name wrong, gomen!). They produce movies and puppet shows. While I know amost nothing about theater, this looks like fun! If I understood their literature, they put on several performances each year and are very popular with children. I can see why!

If I keep meeting wonderful and fascinating clubs and circles I will "extracurricular" myself right out of school!

I found a used bike shop near the university a man and his wife. He first offers me his best bike, for a fair but still high price. I tell him "Totemo kireina jitensha ga, chotto takai..." or, "It's a very pretty bicycle, but the price is a bit high..." He starts lifting tarps and showing me other bikes that show a bit more age and use. I point out the features I would prefer, and it turns out he has one he is just finishing up that has most of the needed items. He won't come down on the price, but he agrees to throw in a used basket for the handle bars and a new bell.

Don't laugh. BOTH are near-critical items for anyone living in Tokyo. How would you get home from the suupaa, or supermarket, without a basket for your groceries? And how would you politely ask pedestrians to make way for you on the sidewalk without a cute little bell? I like the bell. brrring! brrring! You really don't feel like saying sumimasen or gomennasai with the proper degree of politeness after an hour or so navigating through Tokyo traffic.

An other 500 yen and he helps me complete the registration. For some bizzare reason, I decide to call it Fang. It's a silver 27-inch "girls bike" with straight handle bars and a wheel generator-type headlamp, and is identical to about 60 percent of all bikes in Japan.

NOTE: You can get arrested and deported for riding a bike that is not registered to you.

I haven't ridden a bike in nearly twenty years. The experience is a bit unnerving and I nearly run into several people and one or two fixed objects. But I am no longer a slave to Japanese public transportation! I feel like I can tackle the whole city!

Near the campus I find an interesting building, but I'm not sure if it's a Buddhist temple or a Shinto shrine. Behind the brightly painted building is another more sedate but elegant structure guarded by two massive "foo" dogs.

They really look ferocious!

Not far from Toyama park I find myself following a mother trailed by two daughters on smaller bicycles. There's a special seat on the back of her bike with an even smaller child riding tandem. To me she looked like a mother goose being trailed by goslings. It was a cute scene but I don't think my picture captured the moment.

Later that evening my roommate takes me on the shortcut to the part of Shinjuku that is gaining a reputation for being "little Korea." He points out a few good restaurants and a few to avoid, and Don Kiote (doan kee-oh-tay). Don Kiote is a trainwreck between a Wallmart, a Big Lots and a kaliedescope. They have a little bit of everything at very low prices and almost no order to anything. There are handwritten signs and display models everyhwere. Bins and stacks and shelfs and racks, stuff inside, stuff outside, stuff next door. It seems like they just started to fill the space with inventory based on some esoteric rhyme lost to the ages. It took me two trips to find toilet paper.

We took a shortcut through Kabukicho to get to Shinjuku station. Most of the mainstream movie theaters in the area happen to be in Kabukicho.

He pointed out the three Starbucks around Shinjuku station, all within sight of one another, a good Tex-Mex restaurant, and a few of the popular landmarks used for rendevous with friends. If there isn't something big, bright or famous to use as a landmark, directions are given in reference to the train station exit, for example, Exit B2 or Minami Exit (South Exit).

The land marks are really important because there are no street addresses as there are in the US. If you don't meet up at a common reference point and walk to the destination together, it's likely that someone will get lost. It's also common to try a few places to see if there is room. If it's too crouded there's usually no accomodation for waiting.

And so ends my first week in Japan.

Day 6: Down Time

2006-04-19T07:21:00.000+09:00

On the sixth day it rained.

I pretty much stayed indoors until the afternoon when the weather let up, then I went out to forage for food. Japanese have two amazing conveniences: the konbini and the hyaku-en.

The konbini is a convenience store, hence the Japan-ized name, but it really a micro grocery store with less junk food and more real food than American stores. They have fresh ready made meals that the store clerk will offer to microwave for you. Without my local konbini I probably would have starved by now. Konbini's like KusKus, Family Mart and Lawson's can sometimes be found two or three to a block. And Japanese tend to be scrupulously honest. When I can't pick out the right change to pay for the purchase, the clerk will apologize/ask permission and pick the right coins from my hand.

The hyaku-en is literally a "hundred-yen" store with everything from snacks to cleaning supplies - snacks are up front, cleaning supplies in back - all for 100 yen apiece. There are at least four within ten minutes walk from my apartment. Each hyaku-en carries a slightly different variety of merchandize, so it pays to visit a few to find just the right item. Stocking is a bit irregular, but the savings over regluar stores can be considerable.

Day 5: Ohanami

2006-04-15T20:05:00.000+09:00

Ohanami, literally "honorable flower viewing," the time when the whole city seems to drop everything and head to the park, was officially on Sunday but bad weather forecast for Sunday and beautiful weather on Saturday moved things up a day.

There are holidays in the US that have traditional characteristics, like watermelon and fireworks on the Fourth of July and turkey and family for Thanksgiving. Ohanami means sakura like snow, picnics and revelry in the park, and women of all ages in kimonos.

I was to meet up with some friends at the clock tower at Nishi Waseda campus to go to a park for ohanami together but none of us knew that there were two clock towers at Nishi Waseda campus, just out of sight of one another. In short, we missed each other and I was on my own. Just across the street was the Waseda Sakura Matsuri, or cherry blossom festival. A little boy was watching me as I got to the park and his parents got him to wave and say "hello" (in English!).

Sakura hung over the banks of a small river, and the walk along the river was full of all kinds of people. Paper lanterns and wishes or poems were hung like ribbons lined the way. The lantern in the picture reads "Waseda Sakura Matsuri."

I saw couples, families, large groups, small groups, people escorting the very elderly (who were in a full kimono or "Sunday-best" suit, even if they were in a wheel chair), roasted potato vendors, and everywhere people taking pictures.

I've heard ohanami described as watching it snow, but it's hard to realize how simultaneously appropriate and inadequate that description is until you have seen it for yourself.

I was torn between wanting to see everything and wanting to just sit in the sun dappled shade and watch the cherry blossoms waft like fragrant pink kisses in the breeze.

After an hour or so of walking along the river I went back to Nishi campus.

Back on campus I heard taiko drums in the distance. I followed the sound an found myself in the middle of a huge Waseda University student pep rally - in front of a second clock tower.

The plaza and all the surrounding spaces between buildings were full of school clubs and school circles of nearly any kind of interest or hobby one could think of. There were cheerleaders and football players, all kinds of sports equipment and band instruments, people handing out fliers to recruit new students, proud parents taking pictures of their new Waseda students, people, people and more people.

It was easy to tell the new students from everyone else. They all wore black business suits and a tie. The older students were a bit less formal. Some, like the Traditional Japanese Dance Club, were in beautiful silk kimonos. Others, like someone from the Monster Movie Club, were dressed as a giant dinosaur-thing ready to trounce Tokyo. There was even someone dressed as a large pink rabbit.

After a bit I figured I would try ohanami at a big park. I took the train to Shinjuku, but got my bearings mixed up walking through the labyrinthine underground mall trying to find the best exit. I ended up further south than I realized and totally missed the park I was hoping to visit. I walked and walked, and ended up at Yoyogi station. By that time the sun was going down and shop signs were coming on. I got to Shijuku station and found that all the people who were at the park for ohanami were also heading home. The station was packed. Literally.

It was an ordeal getting through the croud to the right ticket vending machine, reading the rate map and then getting back throught the croud to the gate. It seemed that while it was incredibly crouded, everything was orderly and moving at a constant pace. Except for where I was.

I realize I was a bit bigger than most everyone else and it would be difficult to see around me, but I never seemed to move as quickly as the person behind me wanted. If I was in their way, they would push. I mean they would shove me from behind - hard. It happened a few times. And because I was a bit taller than everyone else I could see that I was the only person in around me getting shoved like that. And it wasn't just the shoving. People were coming back from their parties in the park and they were smiling and talking. Until they saw me. More often than not, they would not only stop talking and smiling, but make a face like they saw something unpleasant.

I eventually made it home.

I met my downstairs neighbors. I introduced myself according to Japanese etiquette, but instead of introducing themselves in kind, I was scolded and warned to not have loud parties or play my music loud. They never even told me their name. I think we had been talking two or three minutes when they had a change of expression like they just realized they weren't talking to the person they thought they were.

It turns out the person who had my room prior to me used to play his music loud. Not deafening, but with the windows open everyone can hear it. The people downstairs used to come up and complain, once almost starting a fight. There were acts of vandalism - petty stuff like having the name on our mailbox defaced regularly. I guess foreigners all seem alike. It is not a pleasant feeling, but I can understand what many international students experience when they come to the US.

The people across the street will close their window or go inside (most windows in neighborhoods like this are frosted for privacy) when they see me at mine. I often get reproving looks from the older ladies like I'm some kind of savage out to steal their daughters.

Being a good neighbor always takes effort but I didn't expect such an uphill battle, especially in Japan, a country famous for politeness and hospitality. The next two or three days were really bad as I struggled out from under a huge load of culture shock.

One of my roommates has a Japanese girlfriend. They invited me to breakfast the next day and over some really good banana pancakes we talked about my experiences. They gave really good feedback, but just talking it out helped. After a bit I was able to realize that if I have only one day a week like this I really wouldn't have much to complain about.

My other roommate remarked that living in one country is a lot like living in any other. You get up in the morning, go to work and come home just like anywhere else. After a while you stop being all-the-time conscious of being in a foreign country. I've found that all the strangeness becomes everyday-strangeness, and a part of the rhythm and order of everyday life. Even so, every day there are reminders that I'm not native to this land.

Day 4: Akihabara

2006-04-14T00:04:00.000+09:00

Most of Day 4 was spent unpacking, doing laundry, and grocery shopping. Later in the afternoon I decided to go to Akihabara to shop for a new camera. Akihabara is the legendary Mecca of electronics in Japan. It is also known as Electric Town. There is a slightly less-famous shrine to technology in Oosaka called Denki Town (Electric Town).

It only cost 130 yen for the train ride clear across metro Tokyo. As soon as you step out of the train station you're faced with a city block of small electonics shops. There's some kind of rhyme to the madness because one group of stalls will major in car stereo systems, the other personal portable electronics. Some will be manufacturer-specific and others will carry lines from several manufacturers. There's a section for electronic dictionaries, for LEDs, for cable, and even for spy cameras.

But that's not all. Electric Town extends for blocks. It looks a bit like Las Vegas, but no slots or tables. Many of the shops are small, but several have multiple stories, each dedicated to a particular range of goods. Usually cameras, cell phones, MP3 players and such were on the ground floor and the second floor would be home appliances of all kinds. Some stores had separate buildings, each specializing in something different. I found shops for computer software, for computer accessories, for computer cases, for residential electrical wiring, and even for flashlights.

NOTE: It is a long-standing myth that things in Akihabara are cheaper than elsewhere. Not so. All things have the same price. Duty-free shops abound, but the prices really aren't much different. If you look hard enough you can find places that post a discount, but it often requires a tourist visa. A friend from another country had mentioned that one might get a gaku-wari, or student discount, by asking.

I found a camera that was both shock proof and waterproof to 3m. Perfect! I would be ready for the next time I fell in an Osu-daki. I lucked out and ended up talking to the floor manager from the start. I asked, "Kono kamera wa waribiki ga arimasu ka," which means "Does this camera have a discount?" The manager looked at me kind of offended-like, shook his head as he hauled out his calculator and started punching buttons.

NOTE: They all do the calculator-thing in Japan. It will seem bizzare at first that they always show you what the price is on some kind of display even when a 5-year-old can do the math, but you'll get used to it.

Anyway, the price he showed me was a lot more than I expected. "Ichi ban waribiki desu ka?" "Is this the best discount?" He acted a bit more offended and explained how big it already was.

I decided to shop around but ended up coming back. This time I talked to a clerk and went through the same process. But the discount was much smaller! Aha! I asked for the floor manager and through him ended up getting the bigger discount.

In summary:
1. Shop around.
2. Find the most senior-looking person (by age or uniform).
3. Ask politely for a discount (Waribiki ga arimasu ka).
4. Ask for more, just in case (Ichi ban waribiki desu ka).

Also while in Akihabara I found a diner with no cash register. Theres a big vending machine with a bunch of buttons. You pick what you want to eat from the display (usually wax replicas) or a picture on the wall, put in your money and push the button with the same name as the display item. Out pops a ticket which you hand to the person behind the counter. It seems a bit odd from an American perspective, but it is really efficient once you figure out what you want to eat.

Akihabara is also a popular place for cosplay cafes. "Cosplay" is short for "costume play," where the wait staff dresses up as a character from a favorite manga or anime. French maids, little-bo-peeps, cat girls, and nurses with giant syringes seem to be among the more popular costumes, but there are also space rangers, space pirates, space generals and such.

On the way back to the station I found a panya, a bakery specializing in bread - all kinds of bread. They had melon bread for sale which is often described in Japanese manga and anime as being so delicious as to cause stampedes. I don't think I would start a fight over the last melon bread in the store, but it was delicious. It kind of reminded me of Hawiian bread with a sweet crumbly crust.

Day 3: Mountain Trip

2006-04-12T19:50:00.000+09:00

I got up early and found a train across town to where we were to meet. Michael, from Germany, was the only other tenant coming, as the third guy got the dates wrong. We "dashed" across town (Mike, stop laughing!) to the rental place and met up with Akari-chan, a dance instructor at Marika's studio.

Michael drove on the way out - it was his first time driving a car on the LEFT side of the road. We stopped at Marika's father's gravesite on the way.

We drove to Hinohara mura, which I understand is the last village in Tokyo, stopping along the way to take pictures at one of the mountain vistas. While the Kanto Plains were on the cusp of Spring with Ohanami just around the corner, the mountains were brisk with the scent of Winter-not-quite-past. It was a beautiful day for motorcycles. Several were playing Initial-D racing up and down the twisty mountain roads.

We stopped at a quaint diner overlooking Okutama Lake. It probably hasn't changed much in 30 years, and the curry rice was fantastic.

I was taking a picture of the lake when an elderly Japanese gentleman wanted to practice his English. Soon I was being invited to be in a picture with him and his wife. Very nice people. They took the picture of me by the lake.

Roads in Japan aren't that wide to start off with, but ours kept getting narrower and narrower as we continued into the mountains toward Kosuge mura. Kosuge mura is a tiny little place with large gardens dotting the hillside. I think their main product is lumber. The logs are very short, maybe 5 meters long. At first I wondered why they would cut such large timber into smaller pieces. Then I remembered the windy roads. If the logs were any longer, they couldn't haul them off the mountain!

We continued past Kosuge mura into a deep dark forest of tall, closely-spaced pine trees. The road turned to gravel and we kept going. The mountain was incredibly steep. We could look down on trees that were probably 70m tall. A few seemed to reach 100m! I lost count of the number of hairpins we encountered.

There were a few rockslides. The largest one blocked nearly half the road.

At one river crossing we found where the water was diverted over a wide flat shelf of rocks. Small green plants dotted the shallow water at regular intervals. This was a wasabi da, the "field" where they grow wasabi, which somehow becomes that fiery green paste you get with sushi. Aparently only the clearest mountain water is good for making wasabi.

The trail eventually ended and we took some pictures. There was one side trail with a recently posted warning sign stating that bears had been sighted in the area. We were looking for some waterfalls, but didn't see them on the way up. Yes, Marika is wearing a fur coat.

Backtracking, we found the walking trail that led to the main waterfalls. Down in the bottom of one of those deep valleys we found our first one. The water was so cold thick ice had formed around the edges.

There was another waterfall farther up into the valley, so we started hiking after it. I thought it would be a great picture to get a shot of everyone clambering over huge boulders from the perspective of the stream. It was a nice shot, but I slipped and fell in with my camera, smashing it on a rock.

Did I mention the water was cold? It was FREEZING!

From this point on photo credits belong to Michael and Marika.
Doumo Arigatou Gozaimashita!

After a good laugh (at me) we made it to the waterfall. It was gorgeous. Twin falls cascaded into a deep blue basin which poured into successively smaller pools before becomming the stream. The valley itself seemed ancient. The breeze whispered in the high branches and fallen leaves stirred in elegant whirls.

Marika pointed out a sign by the trail (written in kanji). This was Osu-daki, the Fountain of Male Sexual Power. So I took off my shoes and rolled up my pants and got in again, just to make sure. It was beyond mere cold. But belive it or not, I was toasty-warm by the time I got out.

On our way down the mountain we found the walking trail to yet another waterfall. This one was way back in a valley and we had to cross several bridges where the mountain became too steep for a trail. Akari-chan and Marika are reenacting one of their jazz performances in this picture and I can't resist being a goof.

This waterfall was huge, but it formed a shallow pool like a dark mirror. If you stand at the edge of the pool in front of the waterfall and inhale deeply the frozen spray mixes with the fragrant mountain air as it rushes into your lungs. The experience is so remarkable you almost regret exhaling.

On the way back to the car it started to snow. By the time we were half way through the forest it was coming down thick and sticking. It was a surreal experience to drive through a dense Japanese forest at dusk as it snowed. I kept looking for a cat waving to me from the woods.

Then we were out of the snow and the sun was warm and golden. The mountains were beautiful in the waning sun. The picture shows snow falling on the peaks.

Oh. This time I drove. I did alright, except for sidewalling a few curbs and shredding the hubcaps.

We stopped at a kaiten zushi restaurant on the way back to Shinjuku.

NOTE: Kaiten zushi, or converyor-belt sushi, is becoming poplular all over the world. Basically you sit at a bar or table and a conveyor belt glides by with plates of food. Some places have different colored plates for different prices, some charge one price for everything, and some are tabehodai, or all-you-can-eat.

I ate raw squid, these little things that looked like skinned minnows, egg custard with seafood, and some other things. The only thing I couldn't handle was the natto-okra pulp seaweed roll. Natto is fermented soybeans. It is slimy, sticky, stringy, and smells like used gym socks. Many people like it. It's supposed to be good for your skin.

When I got home I found my luggage in my room. One of my roommates just happened to be home when Kuroneko came to deliver.

Day 2: Lost in Transition

2006-04-10T21:51:00.000+09:00

The rest of the morning was full of packing my bags and lugging them downstairs to the front desk, which is called the furonto in Japan. If you remember, I said my apartment was totemo hosoi, very tall and slender, sandwiched between the various clubs. The elevator in the hotel was the same way. It would fit four, or two Americans. No kidding! I had to stack my duffel bags on end to fit them and myself in the elevator. It took two trips.

I had the address of my apartment written in English and the friendly hotel staff were able to fill out the bills of lading in Japanese. I said mata ne (see you later) to my luggage and took the train to my new apartment. The problem was that I knew the general area where my apartment should be, but I didn't have an exact map to the place.

NOTE: Japan doesn't use American-style street addresses. Only major roads have names. Mail addresses list the 7-digit Japanese ZIP code which is often marked by the "bar-T" symbol found on all mailboxes, the prefecture or ken, the ward or ku, then the city, followed by the neighborhood number or choumei, the block number, and the building number. Multi-tenant buildings also have an apartment number. There are some variations to this but everything follows a similar format.

I took the train to the correct city and found the correct choumei, but had to walk around until I found the right neigborhood and building. Many of the streets turn at odd angles, so N-S-E-W directions don't work well. Also, most of the roads are single lane and too small to show up on street maps. It took a while, but I made it.

My room is 6 jo with a tatami mat floor with a small window facing North. I sleep on a futon. The room also came with a boombox, TV/VCR, refridgerator and kotetsu (pictured next to the 'fridge). A kotetsu is a small table with a heater underneath. You throw a blanket over the table and your legs stay nice-n-toasty during the cold months. All the doors are Japanese style, which means they slide instead of push or pull open. Speaking of doors, they are all 5"9, which means I have to duck or be scalped when I move from room to room. My room is a bit drafty, but Japan has engineered gas space heaters to be nigh care free. What will Summer be like?

My apartment is walking distance from Shinjuku, a major city within Tokyo that is busy day and night. Since Shinjuku station was about a 15 minute walk from the apartment, I decided to include it in my neighborhood orientation. As with Ikebukuro, each exit from the train station seems to open on a totally different city.

There was a mass of people, more than I've seen anywhere else up until that time. Since then, I've experienced Akihabara, Ohanami and Shibuya at night. But at the time I must have looked like I was fresh from the country gawking at all the sights and sounds and motion. It's like standing inside a giant kaliedescope with a few thousand people rushing hither and thither. The picture is from the Northeast side of the station, one block away from the infamous Kabukicho red light district.

All foreigners living in Japan more than 90 days must register their place of residence at the ward office during the first 90 days. Since I was in the neighborhood, I tracked down the Shinjuku Ward Office. They were quite busy, but the process was about as painless as one could expect, even in the US. After a few hours waiting, I had my official notice of approval for a permanent resident alien card.

NOTE: As of April 1 this year several rules pertaining to the RA card have changed. It's a bit complicated to explain, but bank accounts and now cell phone contracts require the physical card. Previously, after registering and receiving the notice of approval one could buy an official notice of approval for cell phone companies for 300 yen. It may have been the case that some companies would accept the original notice, but I'm not sure. In any case, the notice which is issued immediately also states the date range in which the permanent RA card can be picked up from the ward office. The earliest one can pick up the card is three weeks from the date of application. In other words, new residents of Japan should expect to wait nearly a month before they can open bank accounts or get a cell phone.

NOTE: It seems every foriegner hears a different part of the story - and often from non-native English and/or Japanese speakers - so it's difficult to piece together the whole and precise truth of a matter.

Having a cell phone and some kind of bank account is immensely necessary for living in Japan. Period. Not having either kind of makes one feel like a non-person. But people have lived a long time without cell phones. It takes a bit of work, but there are ways to get by. If my apartment didn't already have Internet access, I'd be sunk, because I think the RA card is also required for a POTS phone line, DSL or cable service.

Marika the landlady invited me that evening to go on a trip the following day to the mountains with a couple of her other tenants and one of the dance instructors who works for her. She described her employee as very cute, and immediately the word go-kon came to mind. Go-kon is short for a much longer Japanese word that means marriage party, a kind of group blind date with the intention of finding a spouse. Sounds great - but I was still waiting for my baggage to be delivered.

I remembered the encouragement to have fun, and a trip to the mountains sounded a lot more fun than waiting for luggage!

Day 1: My Big Adventure Starts

2006-04-10T00:09:00.000+09:00

Tomorrow evening will mark two complete weeks living in Japan. If I had known about this blogging-stuff earlier there would have been a blow-by-blow commentary. Shikata ga arimasen (It can't be helped).

I started off knowing there was a lot I didn't know. For instance, after three months of casual searching and another three of serious inquiry I still did not have a place to live. The written and unwritten rules concerning apartment renting in Japan are legion, even more so for foreigners from outside the country. I also knew that because I had studied polite and business Japanese, basic communication and "essential living skills" would be difficult. There was also the expectation that at some time I would experience culture shock.

NOTE: In Japan "difficult" means "nigh impossible."

I had a very pleasant flight from San Francisco to Narita in no small part due to a very kind Japanese lady who encouraged me through conversing in Japanese. Arigatou gozaimashita! Customs was super-helpful, and minutes after landing I was standing in Japan.

Most public places have signs written in both kanji (Chinese-style picture-characters) and hiragana and/or katakana (phonetic characters). Many signs are also in romaji (phonetic spelling via roman alphabet). however, the farther one moves from public places frequented by foreigners, the less common Romaji becomes. I would say that English speakers not knowing Japanese writing miss out on at least 98 percent of all information. Understanding hiragana and katakana - but no kanji - means 80 percent of Japan is unintelligible.

On the positive side, Japan is a very convenient country. Most everything you could want is within walking distance of anywhere, and if it can fit, there's probably a vending machine for it. It is also a very colorful country: most everything is color-coded: Exits are green, men's bathrooms are blue (women's are pink), and so on. There are often cute little pictograms explaining whatever concept they think needs elucidification, but while the artwork is usually very detailed there doesn't seem to be a lot of standardization.

I found a hotel room in Ikebukuro. I got lost right out of the train station, but a kind kusuriya-san (drug store clerk) was able to point me in the right direction. Wow. I eventually found the place, but it was sandwiched between love hotels and "snack bars."

In my room there were five buttons, three knobs and a three-position switch to control the bathroom. Yes, there were instructions, but they were all in kanji (see above note).

I almost panicked, but I took a deep breath and reminded myself that this was an adventure. After all, if I screwed up the plumbing, what's the worst that could happen? (^_^); "Japanicon" of person sweating in nervousness or panic

The following morning I found a Japanese diner serving breakfast. I ordered by pointing to a picture on the wall and ate what was put in front of me. I think it was pork in gravy over rice with a raw egg on top with a side of seaweed and pickled vegetables and a bowl of miso soup. It was very good, but so filling I skipped lunch AND supper.

Afterwards I went apartment shopping, and through a series of coincidences ended up meeting Marika, a dance instructor who also managed apartments in the Shinjuku area. Because her cats liked me and I could talk intelligently about the influence of the Roman bath culture on western European tribes over tea and biscuits (mostly because of her cats), I was offered an apartment. I was told the shoukai - the introduction and the relationship that sponsored the introduction - was often more important than one's credentials, but this really surprised me.

I now have two roommates, both are American, who have lived in Japan for some time. They have helped considerably with such basic stuff as how to use basic household appliances, when to put what kind of garbage out and where to shop for different items.

But I get ahead of myself.

I got lost on my way back to the hotel room and ended up finding a beautiful park full of sakura (cherry trees). I almost passed on the opportunity to rest and enjoy the experience (viewing sakura is so much more than just looking at trees and flowers), when I was reminded of some friends' encouragement to have fun while in Japan.

It was almost silent in the park; everyone spoke softly, if at all. There was only the breeze, the sun, and the sakura.

I now had an apartment, but my luggage was in Ikebukuro. The hotel arranged for Kuroneko (Black Cat) - the ubiquitous Japanese package delivery service - to deliver the luggage to my new apartment. What I didn't realize (because the instructions were in kanji) was that one is supposed to specify date and time for delivery, otherwise it gets delivered when they get around to it.

So I had an apartment, a pocket full of cash, my camera, the clothes on my back, and no clue where my luggage was or how to expedite it.

My Blog, Take 1...

2006-04-08T16:26:00.000+09:00

I have a theory that blogging is a lot like tape recording your own voice. I remember the first time I held a microphone and not being able to say anything but nonsense. The second and third times had similar results. Come to think of it, I still make funny noises when in front of a microphone...

Well, blogging is like a microphone. Regardless of the eloquence planned, when you face that blank page your mind goes blank as well and all that comes out is gibberish.

Ahh. Now that that is out of the way, I can write about my Big Adventure living in Japan.