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June 30, 2008

Miya Jima JAPAN

Touring Oita's Seven Hells, Riding the Shinkansen off Kyushu Island, Arriving on Miya Jima Island, Discovering Mono no Aware, and Another Amazing Onsen Ryoukan

The only disadvantage of the Beppu Ryoukan at which I slept last night is that it is facing west out over the Pacific Ocean. Somewhat predictably, when the sun broke over the horizon at 4:45 a.m. I was left with little choice but to rise with it. I held out for as long as possible, pulling the pillow over my head and closing the blinds, but eventually I caved in and  headed down to the ONSEN on the ground floor.

In the movie Apocalypse Now, Lt. Colonel Bill Kilgore comments, "I love the smell of napalm in the morning." Although I do not share his affinity for the deadly substance, I do love the feel of an ONSEN in the morning, even if I am sharing it with half a dozen naked elderly Japanese men spread out over several hot baths. Although there was a private ONSEN in my bedroom, shown to the left, the small tub is nothing compared to the grander options in the main bathing area.

After a multi-course breakfast served in a private room (one of the biggest attractions of a Ryoukan is that first-class meals are included in the overall price), we set off for the morning. We had a few hours to kill before everyone headed their separate ways - some back to Tokyo while my mother and I would continue traveling by SHINKANSEN - so we decided to tour the infamous "Seven Hells of Oita." These are a collection of hot springs attractions that each have something unique about them. Presumably, the unifying theme is that the hot water is indicative of something deadly and hellish.

The first place we visited was probably my favorite as it most closely resembled what Dante's idea of Hell must look like. Although the entrance was charming enough, with a placid pond and an immaculate landscape, we soon reached the steamy bog where Hell was literally breaking loose.

The name of this particular tourist attraction means something like "Watery Hell," which may not have taken much time to come up with, but at least it does not miss the mark. As for the thick clouds of steam, which can be seen in the pictures below, it was continuously pouring out of rock openings, which must stretch deep into the earth's core - although I doubt there is anything resembling a "direct route" into which one could simply fall (or push a sibling.) Anyway, pictures are probably the easiest, and certainly the most interesting...

 

The next attraction on the agenda, "Blood Pond Hell" (the poor grammar is not my doing, for once), was not designed for those unlucky few who are colorblind. Indeed, such people would wonder what the big deal was about a pool of water with only a slight mist over it. The big deal is obviously that the water is blood red, although I wouldn't be surprised in the least if the water was dyed to look that way. A wise man once commented there is a pessimist in everyone (and if a wise man never said such a thing then he probably should have).

For a quick know-your-facts lesson, this pool of water was formed in 1945 (or 1946) when the pressure blew a massive boulder hundreds of meters in the air. According to the Japanese I could decipher, a scientific team was subsequently dispatched to compile a report on the newly formed bog of steaming water. I cannot imagine the work was all that challenging - interview a few locals, take a few measurements, fill out a few forms, and collect a check.

As a testament to those scientists, I took the time to jot down a few of the figures, and will use even more of my ever-so-valuable time to reproduce them on the internet for all the world to see. (By all the world, I actually mean only my mother and the weird stalker who won't stop emailing me.)

Time was starting to run out, so we crossed out the remaining attractions, including the "Crocodile Hell," and decided to finish with the nearby "Tornado Hell." This was basically a scaled down version of "Old Faithful," found in Yellowstone National Park. We had a 15 minute wait before the next "showing," or pressurized expulsion of water. I tried listening in on the Cantonese conversation of the Hong Kong family in front of me, but even at my peak I never would have understood more than the odd word. As it stands, I was happy to remember the basics like "can I help you?"

I am taking the time to mention the Hong Kong family because they turned out to be more interesting than the actual water spout, which was still taking its time in rewarding our patience. There was a young boy who was being pestered by his sister's attempts to create a new exercise routine using a mixture of karate and dance. Being the immature idiot that I am, I couldn't help jumping down to mimic her efforts until she finally joined me for a few pictures.

Oh, and the water spout finally went off. It was interesting for the first 2.2 seconds, but even that was pushing it. In all honesty, the little girl's smile saved the day.

We drove back to Oita City where I purchased my SHINKANSEN train tickets for Hiroshima, back on Japan's 'main' island of Honshu. My mother was traveling with a Japanese Rail Pass, but I was without such a luxury because it is only available for purchase outside of Japan.

At the train station, I said goodbye to everyone as they set off for the airport, and then proceeded to load up on necessities for the upcoming train ride. The two most important things when riding a long-distance train in Japan are:

(1) Buy a quality BENTO box

(2) Buy beer

We caught the 12:14 SONIC train from Oita to Kokura (133km), and after a 15 minute wait we transferred onto the 13:47 NOZOMI train bound for Hiroshima. Being the idiot that I am, I failed to realize that my mother's Rail Pass is not valid for NOZOMI trains, which are the fastest in the Japanese fleet. Strangely, there is only a 3 minute time difference between the two trains on the short Kokura/Hiroshima route, and there is only a 2$ price difference, but that did not matter to the woman checking tickets on the train. She made us stand for most of the 45 minute train ride, which I thought was fairly harsh. In Japan, rules are rules.

From Hiroshima Station we transferred onto the Sanyo Line for the 30 minute ride to Miyajimaguchi Station. I left the two small suitcases behind our seats near the doorway, knowing full well that no one in Japan would steal them, but my mother was not fully adjusted to Japan's incredible safety and was constantly turning around to check them. I cannot say I blame her - in the United States I fear the bags would be gone by the third stop.

Judging from those who alighted with us and the surrounding area, Miyajimaguchi Station is used primarily as the launching point for boats to Iwa Miya Jima (Miya Jima Island). We bought two ferry tickets and crossed the small channel separating Miya Jima from the mainland of Honshu.

On the boat ride over one of Japan's most identifiable sights came into view: the red gate (TORII) of Itsukushima Shrine. This is something I have seen in countless photographs and advertisements while in Japan. Although foreigners may associate Japanese tourism more with the likes of Tokyo and Mt Fuji, I believe Japanese associate it more with the likes of Kyoto and Miya Jima. Perhaps it is because I have been so curious about the Japanese culture, or perhaps the shrine really is that amazing, but from the moment I first saw the TORII I could not turn away. There is something special about the imposing gate, which appears to be floating on the surface of the water.

We disembarked on the island after a short 20 minute boat ride, and rather than taking a taxi as my mother wished I decided to walk to our RYOUKAN, called IWASO. After consulting with a friendly woman at the tourist information desk, I circled its location on a black-and-white print-out map and off we went. It was late in the afternoon on a Monday so there were nowhere near the number of tourists that exist on weekends at peak hours. Indeed, one of the greatest advantages to sleeping on the island, which is expensive and would never have been possible for me if my mother was not with me, is one has much of the island "to one's self" when the ferries finish.

As is evident from several of the surrounding pictures, the island is well protected and wild deer are everywhere. Despite a great deal of development, all growth has proceeded with the interests of the island given first priority and this shows: the island is not tacky, it does not feel touristy (despite it being a purely tourist attraction), and raw nature is always just around the corner. This is a theme I will bring up again when I explore the island. Anyway, here are a few photos of me being, well, me. Also, the peace sign means something like "happy!" and is done by nearly every Japanese (and East Asian) when taking a photograph. When my mom first saw this she had no idea what on earth I was doing, which shocked me, but perhaps she is not the only one who has never seen this before.

We checked into IWASO and were shown to a traditional Japanese room on the fifth floor, with an amazing view overlooking Istukushima Shrine. However, this prime real estate does not even scratch the surface of where I would be spending the night. IWASO is the most famous RYOUKAN on the island, and with its 150 year history it has was host to nearly all important dignitaries who slept on Miya Jima. As usual, an elaborate dinner and breakfast were included in the price as is use of the ONSEN facilities.

After sitting for a cup of tea and snacks served by our personal waiter, I hurried down to Itsukushima Shrine to explore before its 6:30 p.m. closing. I was not expecting to spend more than 30 minutes looking around, but after passing through the ticketing counter I was immediately entranced by the shrine. Painted with bright red paint, and built on pillars so the incoming tide does not drown the walkways or rooms, the shrine is unlike anything I have ever seen before. It dates back to the 6th Century, although it was finally "completed" by 1168 A.D., which roughly corresponds to the period in which Europe experienced its notorious Dark Ages.

There exists an important concept in Japan called MONO NO AWARE, which is widely recognized as the most important factor in understanding and appreciating Japanese style, art, and culture. To be honest, most Japanese I have talked to admit that even they do not fully understand what the concept means, such are the nuances involved. Although I am certainly no expert on the subject, the best explanation I can offer is that it is based upon an emotional response to the 'sadness' inspired by something beautiful. Sadness is the wrong word, which is why the concept is so difficult to explain, so perhaps a few examples will better illustrate the point:

In Western culture, one concept of beauty revolves around having a splendidly maintained garden that is vast and diverse, and that captivates its audience with its sheer grandeur. Versailles is perhaps the easiest example, although there are certainly no shortage of alternatives. What is important is that the emphasis is on the monumental scale of the beauty.

In Japanese culture, scale has no value whatsoever, except perhaps that less is always better. For example, there lived a very wealthy aristocrat during the Edo Era (Tokugawa Shogunate period) who maintained a gorgeous garden with rare Portuguese flowers, which were believed to be the only ones in Japan. One day, a DAIMYO (feudal ruler) heard about this magnificent garden and arranged to visit the home. When the aristocrat heard of the DAIMYO's impending visit, he had his servants prepare the house and gardens so that they looked flawless. Then, on the morning of the DAIMYO's visit, he did a very bizarre thing: he examined all the flowers and picked out the very best one, cutting all the other flowers, killing them. When the DAIMYO visited the garden and saw the dying stems and wilting flowers littering the ground, he immediately understood what the host had accomplished: he had created the concept of MONO NO AWARE. (This example demonstrates the importance placed on the pinnacle of beauty.)

Another example of MONO NO AWARE is fairly similar in that there lived another wealthy family with a splendid Japanese garden, and a DAIMYO was also coming to visit. The father of the household had his son toil day after day picking every last weed and twig from the lawn, trimming every blade of grass and taking great pains to ensure that everything looked perfect. This went on until the DAIMYO arrived, and the father finally told the boy to stop picking the leaves and other such things; the obedient son's job was finished. However, the father then did a strange thing: he walked over to a large tree that loomed over much of the garden and shook it rigorously, so that a small fluttering of leaves fell to the ground. Then, they were truly finished.

Hopefully those few paragraphs provide insight into the concept. If so, and if such a concept "speaks to you," then the best place to experience MONO NO AWARE is at Itsukushima Shrine. What makes it so special are, in my opinion, the following traits:

The transience of the changing tide underneath the shrine. - (Transient and dynamic beauty)

The beauty of the wood mixed with the threat of rotting. - ('Sadness' of beauty, appreciating the moment)

The subtle architecture supplemented by the gripping red paint. - (Combining different emotional techniques to captivate the viewer)

The sense of history behind this manmade structure in a completely natural environment. - (An "at one with natural" feel)

A photo gallery is the easiest because uploading all these pictures will slow the uploading time, which is already abnormally high.

I was the last person to leave the shrine for the day as a kind Shinto priest allowed me to stay and admire the sunset. He must have watched me for some time because he ushered out all the other guests, whereas he simply smiled and bowed to me, gesturing that I continue. I very humbly bowed lower in return, and continued savoring what was probably my most moving experience in Japan. As a side note, this is also how I was able to capture all the photos of an empty Itsukushima Shrine, which would be impossible otherwise.

After leaving, I embarked on a small tour of the surrounding village. To comment that the village could not have been more appropriate or charming would be a gross understatement. Again, a photo gallery is going to be necessary because my words cannot do justice to the reality.

Those pictures above only scratch the surface of the island. I decided to take a different route back to the RYOUKAN, one which led me through the forest that covers 95% of the mountainous island. Again, words cannot do justice, so please enjoy the pictures.

I made it back to the RYOUKAN at around 8:00 p.m., which was perfect timing because our formal dinner was to be served at 8:30 p.m. In the mean time, I was free to admire the sunset, shown to the left, which was a moving way to cap off the day. I exchanged stories with my mother, who also explored the island on her own, until a knock on our door signified it was time for dinner. I had already changed into my YUKATA (Japanese robe), so I simply slipped into a pair of slippers - dinner was not to be served in our room.

Instead, a young Japanese woman met us at the door and escorted us to another TATAMI room across the hall, where a dinner was laid out for us. As I mentioned earlier, the meals served at a Japanese RYOUKAN are always of the most exacting standards, as is the service. We were personally attended to by the young Japanese woman, who went to great pains to provide information about everything we were eating - from how it was prepared to where it comes from to its special style of presentation. All of this was in Japanese, so I did my best to translate as much as possible for my mother, but in truth I missed much of what the woman was saying.

Finally, one last collection of photos to give an idea of what a Japanese set meal looks like. Sets are brought out individually, numbering about six or so in total, with 3-4 dishes in each set.

After dinner I headed down to the ONSEN (hot springs) where I had the entire facility to myself. It is too early for Japan's travel season, but given that HONSHU is one of the most populated islands on the planet I can hardly complain about having a little extra privacy. As was to be expected at AWASO, the ONSEN was amazing: the architectural design was simplistic yet classy, and there was a running stream just outside the bathing area.

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June 29, 2008

Oita JAPAN

Touring Oita, Box Seats at a Trinita J-1 Football Game, A Hot Sand Bath, and an Onsen Ryoukan Overlooking the Ocean in Kyushu

It is a good indication of what a good time I am having that I willingly woke up at 6:30 this morning; I did not want to waste any time sleeping. I tip-toed out of the suite so as not to wake anyone and took the elevator down to the basement where the ONSEN is located. Alternating between hot and cold baths, showering repeatedly while scrubbing myself clean, and forgetting everything stressful in the world is the ideal way to begin any day. After 45 minutes of this, I headed back up to the room where I sat on the balcony and admired the surrounding scenery. By 8:15 a.m., everyone else was awake, and we all headed down to a gourmet breakfast on the second floor of the ryoukan. We checked out of the hotel shortly thereafter, and set off for another exciting day.

First on the agenda was admiring the many fine views of the volcanic island of KYUSHU, where many active volcanoes still exist. Mutu-san told me that 15-20 people recently died when one of the volcanoes flared up unexpectedly, causing the fatal landslide.

Deadly volcanoes aside, the landscape on the island of Kyushu is amazing, and makes me think of New Zealand (although I have never actually been there). The low cloud cover, the "wet feel", and the absence of Tokyo's omnipresent trains were a much welcomed change of scenery.

Juna-chan, the girl pictured to the left, recently returned from a year-long exchange in England and is quite possibly one of the kindest people I have ever met. There is not a bad bone in her body, which is of inestimable importance, and we spent much of the day chatting together.

Before breaking for lunch we toured a small town where we bought OMIYAGE (おみやげ, or souvenirs) and toured the local sights. For example, we walked around Kinrin Lake, which was recently made famous after being featured on NHK, Japan's national television network. I am not really sure why this particular lake was made famous, but it was nice enough so I have no real complaints about the choice. Below are a few pictures that should give a better idea of what it looks like. (As for the last picture, well, I couldn't help breaking into a sort of Irish jig that left other tourists shepherding their children away.)

There was a particularly nice handicrafts shop nearby where my mom spent an exorbitant amount of time looking around for things to buy. She is only in Japan for two weeks, so I had no real cause for complaint, but it was tiring nonetheless. After perusing through the various knick-knacks, I toured more of the surrounding area, which is still very traditional an impeccably preserved.

The roof shown to the right is made of bundled tree branches, and every few years it must be replaced with the help of 10-20 men. Japanese communities are very closely knit, so such repair work is taken on by members from across the community as part of a group approach. This is something I first saw on NHK six months back, but even so, I surprised myself with how excited I became at such a seemingly innocuous bit of architecture.

Lunch was served at an amazing Italian restaurant called Saihido, which is run by a nearby RYOUKAN, called Murata. The caliber of the food, service, design, and price (!) can best be explained by noting that Meryl Streep once visited Japan with the sole purpose of staying at this particular hotel. We were given a small tour of the RYOUKAN while we waited to be seated for our reservation, and the facilities were impressive. One of the biggest advantages to Japanese style is the understated classiness - and this particular place got everything right. There was even an art exhibit where I saw several famous artists, most notably a Pablo Picasso painting. The picture to the right was not taken by me, but it might as well have been because the gallery was that empty when I visited. It is not like just anyone happens across this kind of place, and even if someone does happen across it they will need some serious connections to get in. Not bad for an obscure place tucked away in the mountains, is it?

The only downside to the lunch was that the "young people" dining were priced out of ordering wine with the meal, so I settled with OCHA (green tea), water, and a strange vegetable concoction that reminded me of a scene from the movie, The Thomas Crown Affair: after spending the night at Thomas Crown's (Pierce Brosnan) house for the first time, and it was sleepless night at that, the butler served Catherine Banning (Rene Russo) a freshly made cup of God-knows-what to drink. Anyway, whatever was used in the movie was served to me for lunch. Perhaps Meryl Streep knew the recipe and shared it with the restaurant? Whatever the case, I am banking on the hope that it was at least somehow healthy for me.

Today was shaping up to be another enjoyable day on the island of Kyushu, and things would only get better. We drove 45 minutes to the stadium for the Oita Trinitas, J-1 team with a mid-table ranking, located in Oita City. The Trinitas play at the Kyushu Oil Dome, or "Big Eye" as it is locally known. We were greeted at the gates and presented with VIP passes that entitled us to unlimited stadium access, food, and alcohol drinks for the match against Vissel Kobe.

At half-time Junna-chan took me back through the executive box and into an elevator that brought us down to the ground floor of the stadium. From there, we walked down a couple of corridors before the green pitch opened up before me. With our VIP passes, we walked past the guards and out onto the track next to the field. Looking up at the fans in the stadium, I had my "this is awesome!" moment, so we headed back to the executive suite where I was introduced to the owner of the club. He was a friendly man who was not shy about speaking English, despite his limited vocabulary. After Maki-san commented that I am a footballer myself, the club owner took hold of my leg, feeling for my muscles, and dragged me around the room while introducing me to people. It would have been awkward if it was not so surprising! While I posed for a few pictures, Junna-chan cleverly took extra food and beer back to our seats.

The game was 0-0 until the second half when the Trinitas opened their scoring account. The goal itself was notable in that it came via a strange sequence of events whereby the ball bounced first off the post, then off the crossbar, and finally a Trinitas player made sure with a header that found the back of the net. Having had two false alarm just moments before, I was already on my feet screaming and waving my Trinitas towel as the stadium erupted in celebrations. For all the talk of the Japanese being a "quiet and reserved society," one needs only to attend a sporting event to see such a misleading theory rightfully disproved.

After the game we split into different groups as Takumi, Junna-chan, Meina-chan, and Shigo-san all set off to catch a flight back to Tokyo. I rode with Muu-san to BEPPU, which is one the most famous ONSEN towns in all of Japan. We had a booking at a Japanese ONSEN RYOUKAN that overlooks the Pacific Ocean. The picture to the left was the view from my room, and the picture to the right shows the private hot bath located in my private suite. Not a bad way to wake up or bathe in the morning, is it?

However, bathing would have to wait because there was a special SAND ONSEN that we decided to fit in before dinner. I had no idea what to expect, and I suspect most people are in a similar position, so I will go ahead and describe the process.

After entering the wooden ONSEN building, I first bought a ticket entitling me to a "sand bath" for 500 yen. Next, I removed my shoes at the entrance, placed them inside the nearby shoe rack, and headed into the men's changing area. I took off my YUKATA (the Japanese "robe" that I decided to wear through the town) and placed it in a locker. Instead, I put on a new, simplified YUKATA that was provided, and headed into the sand "bathing area."

In the naturally heated sand area, five elderly women with massive shovels were digging elongated holes in the ground, much in the way graves look before being filled in. One of the women gestured into the nearest hole, so I climbed in and laid on my back, with my head propped up on a wooden log. Next, the woman began filling in the hole with the scalding sand until I was covered from the neck down. I was still alone in the room, unsure of what to expect and unsure how long I would last because the sand was really hot - the point of this is to sweat excessively, thereby relaxing tired muscles. This "relaxing" period went on for 15-20 minutes, when one of the workers dug me out of my hole.

I headed back into the men's changing area where I first showered (I was desperate for an iced shower at this point) to remove all the sand, and then I climbed into a small hot bath.

We arrived back at the RYOUKAN just in time for our 20:00 dinner reservation. We sat on TATAMI mats and were served 10 different courses, ranging from SASHIMI to SOBA noodles to pickled vegetables to grilled fish, and of course a whole host of others I cannot recall - each serving consisted of 3-6 different different dishes.

Predictably, the longer the dinner went on the more it turned into an ENKAI (宴会, or Japanese drinking party). Predictably, I was the "last man standing," as I have developed a strong addiction to Japanese beer. In fact, my addiction is so strong that I even took one of the leftover bottles with me so I could drink it with dessert in the hotel bar (rules are very relaxed here because everything is so expensive to begin with.)

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June 28, 2008

Oita JAPAN

A Morning Flight to Oita (Island of Kyushu), Touring the Countryside, Amazing Onsen Architecture, Onsen Life, the Otsuribashi Suspension Bridge, and the Royal Deluxe Suite at a Japanese Ryoukan

At 3:50 a.m. I woke-up, and immediately recognized that I have a serious defect: I set alarms, but never have the chance to use them because I naturally wake up before they go off. It is the oddest quirk, especially considering it doesn't matter what time I go to sleep or decide to wake. This morning was even more bizarre because I managed less than two hours of sleep last night - surely there is an ingrained function to acquire enough rest? Even so, as I grabbed my dirty laundry and headed down to the washing machine on the ground floor, I passed Maki-san working away on her laptop computer. I made a couple cups of coffee, and joined her at the kitchen table as I mimicked her work ethic.

The house began coming to life at 5:00 a.m. as my mother joined us for breakfast - fresh fruit and pastries. I rushed to take care of all the last-minute chores, such as watering the plants (inside and on the roof), taking care of Niko-chan (the only cat I will ever like), and packing for the next six days. By 5:55 a.m. we were heading out the door, and soon thereafter we caught a taxi to the Monorail station near Shinagawa Harbor.

On the train to Haneda Airport, I was GENKI (feeling active and healthy) for the first five minutes, and then fatigue (and sleep) set in. The next thing I knew, we were at the end of the line, disembarking at Terminal 2. I was probably drooling all over myself for the ride, much to the amusement of my mother.

Our ANA flight landed in OITA (大分), on the southern island of KYUSHU (九州), at around 9:15 a.m. The flight was only one hour or so, which is paradoxical in that it demonstrates how small and large Japan is depending on one's perspective. For example, a one hour flight is not even enough to fly from Miami, Florida to the nearest state, Georgia. Yet, a one hour flight in Japan, or even a 30 minute flight for that matter, is like entering a whole new world. Such is the magic found in the "land of the rising sun."

We were met at the airport by Mutu-san and his wife, who is a friend of Maki-san's from her university days, 30+ years ago (she will probably poison my food for giving such hints as to her age). Our group for the weekend numbered 11 people in total, and it was basically a reunion for Maki-san and three of her friends from university: Mutu-san, Yoshiko-san, and Sai-san.  Sai-san's husband and their two daughters, Juna-chan (21) and Meina-chan (25), also came along for the weekend, as did Takumi.

We spent the morning touring the OITA area, but a strong mist and drizzly weather prevented us from seeing much. Well, that and the fact that I passed out in the backseat of the car, waking only for lunch and when Takumi woke me to point something out, such as Mount Aso (an active volcano)... With such uncooperative weather, we changed out touring plans in mid-course so that we could visit ONSEN and relax.

The first ONSEN we went to was designed by a Tokyo University professor who is famous for his captivating architectural style (his unique style should be obvious from the background of the photo the right). The highlight of this ONSEN was not only the architecture, but also the carbonated water. This was my first experience in a "bubbly" hot spring, and although the water was only moderately warm in temperature, the unique feel will have me coming back in the future - it was like taking a bath in hot San Pellegrino!

Afterward, we walked around the nearby town, where Japanese men wearing YUKATA (浴衣, or traditional men's kimonos) spend the day going from ONSEN to ONSEN. It was as peaceful a town as one will ever encounter and there were even public hot baths speckled in nooks and crannies. Fortunately, Mutu-san and his wife live in Oita, and were able to act as our guides (and drivers) for the weekend. They pointed out a variety of things we would have otherwise missed out on, such as the public ONSEN (shown below) that was built in the middle of a running river. If we had more time, I would have loved to give it a try, although only after the cleaning man finished his work.

The next place on the agenda was the Kokonoe Yume Otsuribashi Suspension Bridge, which at 390 meters in length and 173 meters in height is the longest footpath suspension bridge in Japan. It was built in 2006 at an enormous cost, but it has already attracted over 2 million visitors (at 400 yen/person), so it appears as if the investment is quickly being recovered. I could feel the bridge shaking slightly in the wind, but it felt stable enough to endure far more severe weather; only time will tell how well it withstands earthquakes. Nevertheless, the views from the bridge were amazing, which is why it has become so popular with tourists.

It was nearly 4:30 p.m. when we hopped back in the cars and set off to check into our hotel for the evening. Sai-san's husband is the head of the Entertainment Division for Morgan Stanley in Japan, so he arranged a number of unique experiences that would not have otherwise been possible. For example, we were staying in the Royal Deluxe Suite at an ONSEN-styled Ryoukan (旅館, or Japanese inn). In our suite there were half a dozen rooms, a kitchen, an amazing 15 meter wide balcony, and even a hot tub. After putting our bags down, Takumi and I immediately changed into the YUKATA provided, although I had to call down to the ground floor to request the largest size in stock, which still ended up being slightly small for me.

Dinner was served at 7:00 p.m. in a private room while we all sat on TATAMI mats. There were three hostesses who stayed with us the entire time, refilling glasses of beer/NIHONSHU/SHOCHU and bringing out dish-after-dish (over a dozen in all). The traditional-styled meals are one of the biggest highlights of staying at a Japanese Ryoukan - they are included in the price, while the food, presentation, and service are of the highest standard.

After finishing dinner, everyone was feeling the effects of alcohol, but no one wanted to call it a night so early. So, we moved the party up to our room on the top floor, buying party snacks (soy sauce-flavored chips, KAKIPI, sweets, dried fish, etc) and ordering more alcohol in the process. The party broke off at around 11:00 p.m. to leave time for everyone to have one last trip to the ONSEN downstairs, which closes at midnight. With a small hand towel in hand, I de-robed and entered the men's only bathing area. I sat on one of the showering stools to clean myself with soap and shampoo, and then headed for the sauna with Takumi. We rotated between the sauna and the ice-bath every 10 minutes, discussing our business plans for the future all the while. Lastly, I headed outside and sat underneath one of the ONSEN waterfalls while relaxing in the hot bath. Heavenly, and it made sleep easy to come by later that night.

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June 27, 2008

Tokyo JAPAN

Delivering Omiyage ("Twizz-la?!"), Football Practice, and Yakitori

As much as I try to make it seem otherwise, my life isn't all travel, fun, and mayhem. Today was one of those days: I spent the morning addressing emails from around the globe trying to keep my affairs in order - my upcoming return the United States requires a lot of preparation to ensure everything is in order - and then I spent the afternoon and evening at Tokyo Tech. Between classes and meeting with professors to hand in work for my week-long absence, I also spent a few hours in the laboratory working on my computer programs to finalize my test data. In early August I will make a capstone presentation, and as my schedule is eternally busy I am using every chance I can to inch closer.

Working in the laboratory gave me an opportunity to deliver the South Korean and American OMIYAGE (souvenirs) for my lab-mates. I brought back a dozen packs of KANKOKU NORI (dried Korean seaweed, famous for its use of vegetable oil and salt) while I had my mother bring Wal-Mart sized packs of Reeses Peanut Butter Cups, Sour Patch Kids, and Twizzlers. Everything was an instant success, with the exception of the Twizzlers, which the Japanese thought was incredibly "strange" (in Japanese-speak, this means "not tasty at all!") I suppose licorice, especially the oddly shaped licorice characteristic to Twizzlers, is an acquired taste.

At 5:00 p.m. I turned out for football practice and delivered the same gifts to the team, and once more the reaction to the food was great (except for the Twizzlers, obviously). I busted my ass in practice because I felt bad about missing the past few practices because of both my Korea trip and my mother's arrival, but I am popular enough on the team that no one minds at all. (That, or maybe everyone simply likes the OMIYAGE I bring back.) Regardless, at the end of practice I apologized once more because tomorrow morning I will fly to Japan's southern island of KYUSHU for six days of travel. I blamed everything on my mother, but in truth this is my first chance to travel extensively in Japan - the high cost of travel in Japan has previously ruled out such an option.

I bought beer for everyone on my way home, arriving back at the house at around 10:00 p.m. to find freshly grilled YAKITORI (焼き鳥, or grilled meat) waiting for me. Initially, I was more interested in drinking beer and relaxing as I was utterly wiped out, but Maki-san's cooking was too good to turn away. Unsurprisingly, I ended up finishing off everything at the table. I never would have thought I would eat such things as chicken heart or ox tongue without finding them at all strange...

I stayed up working at my computer and planning the upcoming trip with Maki-san until nearly 2:00 a.m., but I made sure to set my alarm before passing out... The wake-up call would go off at 4:00 a.m., only two hours later...

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June 26, 2008

Tokyo JAPAN

Ukiyo-e Exhibition in Harajuku, Meiji Shrine, My First Time Shopping for Clothes in Years (Omotesandou Hills, Nonetheless!), and Dinner at an Italian Restaurant

Today was my mother's first full day in Japan, so there was much on the agenda with nowhere near the required energy to accomplish it all. Nevertheless, I gave it a valiant go when I showed her around Harajuku Station for the afternoon/evening. We started with the UKIYO-E (浮世絵, or "pictures of the floating world") exhibition at the Ota Memorial Museum of Art. This genre is the main form of woodblock printing that is so famous to Japanese art. Most famous are the 36 Views of Mt Fuji, which most people have probably seen without ever realizing what they are looking at - the most popular print is shown to the right.

Afterward, I took her along Harajuku's notoriously strange back-streets where COSPLAY shops are in abundance, as are other semi-perverse oddities. Our destination was MEIJI JINGU (明治神宮), which is the most-frequented shrine in all of Tokyo. Shown to the left is one of the massive gates, made from Japanese cedar, through which one enters the park. Once inside, there exists roughly 700,000 sq. meters (175 acres) with some 100,000 trees and 365 different species.

It was a somewhat rainy day today so we missed out on the COSPLAY aficionados who typically hang out around the park's entrance, posing in photographs for ecstatic (shocked?) foreigners. Nevertheless, the rain also scared away most tourists, so the park was even more peaceful than usual.

Built for the Meiji Emperor and his wife nearly 100 years ago, this shrine is a forest of peace in what is otherwise the world's most hectic city (with the possible exception of New York City). I demonstrated how to perform the Shinto rituals, such as cleansing one's self and praying correctly at the inner shrine. Such serenity really is a pleasant thing to find in the mayhem of Tokyo - often foreigner's biggest complaint about the city is there is nowhere to simply escape.

The next item on the agenda for the afternoon was shopping, which "is a mother's prerogative." Embarrassingly enough, this is the first time I have been to a shopping mall to buy clothes in years. The clothes in my room all fall into one of three different categories: (1) they were purchased while I was living in the United States (2005 and earlier), (2) they were gifts, or (3) they were made in China. So, I was very appreciative for the motherly indulgence for what turned into a two-three hour shopping escapade at the incredibly chic Omotesandou Hills. We had to rush home as soon as we finished to drop off the bags because we were meeting Maki-san and Takumi at Shinagawa's Takanawa taxi stand at 8:45 p.m. for an Italian dinner at Davis.

Located in the exclusive Shirogane district, the Italian restaurant would have been impossible to find without the help of a printed map and GPS-equipped taxi (all Japanese taxis have an on-board GPS system, as do most personal vehicles). We made a late reservation, so for the first hour we were seated at an outdoor table where we drank wine and ordered half the appetizers on the menu, ranging from shellfish to carpaccio. Two bottles of wine later, we were sitting inside trying to find room for the main courses for the evening - a hopeless task considering the number one priority for the evening was the wine... We ended up walking, or stumbling, home after dinner on a 20 minute walk back to the house in Gotenyama.

Even back in the safe confines of the house the alcohol continued to flow as Maki-san opened a new bottle of Japanese UMESHU (梅酒, or plum wine), which my mother loved for its sweet taste. I decided to leave Maki-san and her to enjoy the alcohol by themselves while I tried to catch up on the sleep I have missed out on for the past week. (It should go without saying that I will never catch up, but with days as interesting as this why would I ever complain?)

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June 25, 2008

Tokyo JAPAN

Presentation on Japanese Alcohol, Picking My Mother Up at Narita Airport, and Dinner at Sakura Sakura

I forced myself out of bed at 4:00 a.m. this morning in order to finish up a presentation for my Japanese culture course. The topic was "Alcohol in Japan," and as the group leader I was charged with ensuring everything was in order. Never mind that I only just returned form Korea; never mind that my mother will fly into Japan later in the afternoon; and never mind that I have dozens of other obligations that also need attending; somebody has to do it.

I emailed out a final copy of the group's work by 9:00 a.m., and then hurried to campus to meet with my professor before the 10:40 start time. The presentation went off without a hitch, and a length 20 minute debate ensued as I led a debate over the merits of Japan's so-called "drinking society." I have been over this many times, but the main idea is important and thus worth repeating: drinking alcohol in a social environment, regardless of the stress that may exist in one's life, is an integral part of being accepted in Japan. Make no mistake about one thing: if you are not accepted in Japan you have little chance of succeeding because Japanese culture is group-oriented. Carrying this argument one step further implies that drinking alcohol is not for one's own benefit, but rather to demonstrate to peers that you are putting your own interests aside by often drinking far more than you would like.

By 11:40 a.m. I was hustling to Ookayama station, and by 1:30 p.m. I reached Narita Airport. I endured a slight roundabout when my mom called me using a payphone and assured me she was at Terminal 2, despite knowing she was in fact landing at Terminal 1. ("No, no, it says Terminal 1 here!")... Right, mother...

After such a long flight, she was understandably tired, so I taught her survival Japanese over a cup of coffee before returning to Shinagawa Station. I spent the train ride teaching her survival Japanese, laughing all the while because I remember when I was in her very shoes.

Back at the house, I showed her into her room on the ground floor and then gave a tour of the house. Predictably, my mother was impressed by the beautiful flowers (mini-jungles, in reality) on both the second floor and rooftop; it was with great pleasure when I explained that I have been taking care of these plants for the past ten months.

Maki-san returned home early from work, arriving at around 7:30 p.m. Reflecting back, this is honestly the earliest I have ever seen her come home from work, so I was somewhat jealous that my mother received such preferential treatment. Fortunately, I was also to benefit in the evening as we caught a taxi to Sakura Sakura, a terrific restaurant that took us 10 minutes to find even with the map. Japanese restaurants, at least the "good ones," are often like this: they are meant to be found only by people who mean to find them. The dinner consisted of enough variety for me to forget what it was we ate, but I do remember fresh beer, tender SASHIMI, hot and cold SOBA, a sampling of TEMPURA, various vegetables, MISO SHIRO, and all the other goodies that are associated with Japanese cuisine (GOHAN, pickled vegetables, etc).

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June 24, 2008

Tokyo JAPAN

Flying Back to Tokyo, a Picnic at Yoyogi Park, Cheese Ramen, and a Gokon (合コン, or Blind Date) at an Ebisu Izakaya

There is no under-estimating the importance of my internal alarm clock. I have no idea if it is a natural or developed talent, but I have an uncanny ability to wake up within 15 minutes of a desired time. Literally, I can go to sleep with the desire to wake up at an exact time, and my body somehow manages it. This morning was no different, and it was a good thing because I had no alarm clock (or even a clock to which I could refer) to set in the darkness of my room. After a quick shower and a last minute check of all my belongings, I caught a ride on the "limousine bus" heading for the airport.

Once more, I was flying exhausted, having only gotten three or four hours of sleep last night - guesthouses are notorious for having interesting people, and indeed I was up until 2:00 a.m. chatting (much of which revolved around future travel options). However, I was determined not to sleep on the short 2-2.5 hour return flight because I wanted to watch the movie Kite Runner, which was available for viewing. For anyone who has not seen the Afghanistan-related movie, it is certainly recommended - although, I have heard that the book is, predictably, even more moving.

I reached Japan's Narita airport at around 12:00, and received the all-important fresh 90 day tourist visa, which was the purpose of this whole trip. Then, I hustled through baggage claim and caught a 12:30 p.m. train back to Shinagawa Station, via Nippori. I had just enough time to drop off my luggage and take a quick shower before leaving to meet Fumiko Shogase at Yoyogi Park. I picked up a few sandwiches, bottles of water, CHU-HI, and a bag of WASABI KAKIPI from a convenience store before riding the Yamanote Line to Harajuku Station where Fumiko was waiting. We crossed the famous bridge where Tokyo's famous COSPLAY culture is often on display and took the long route through Meiji Shrine. After a 20 minute walk, we settled down onto the grass and spent the next few hours enjoying Tokyo's early-summer weather.

I got a call from Takumi Kumagai at around 6:00 p.m., and we arranged to meet at Ebisu Station in 30 minutes for dinner. Fumiko and I decided to walk through Shibuya to get there, which is a route I first discovered when I walked the entire Yamanote Line.

Also joining us for dinner was one of Takumi's TODAI (Tokyo University) friends, Koshi, who studies law. I followed Takumi's advice and we headed for a RAMENYA that specializes in Cheese Ramen. I was not expecting much from what, in all honesty, sounds like a disgusting combination, but in truth it was pretty damn good. The flaked cheese melted into the soup making for a filling meal - which was exactly what was needed to prepare for a night of drinking.

Koshi had a date later in the evening, so he headed back to the station while we met up with another friend named Taka at a nearby IZAKAYA. Between glasses of Kirin Beer and YAKITORI (grilled meat on a stick) we managed to share a few laughs - likely to the consternation to the rest of the restaurant. Soon afterward, another friend named Ken stopped by and joined the mayhem, while Fumiko had to leave at around 10:00 p.m. to catch the last bus home. We didn't have to wait long before another girl joined us, and this time it was in the form of a Japanese blind-date, or GOKON. The girl, whose name I have already forgotten, studies law at a Tokyo university. She seemed like a nice enough person, but sparks were not really flying so at around midnight everyone went their own ways and my long day finally came to a close.

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June 23, 2008

Tokyo JAPAN

Touring Seoul on the City's "Day-Off"

Silly me. Yesterday I did a great deal of planning to maximize every minute of my time in Seoul, thinking that I could visit most of the museums, palaces, and exhibitions in a whirlwind tour. It was not until late last night when So-Young commented that all tourist-related sights are closed on Mondays. Like I said: silly me. This is basically like visiting Washington D.C. on a national holiday when nothing is open for touring.

Naturally, I modified my plans to involve more "walking tours," and at 9:00 a.m. I set off in pleasant weather. It was a 4-5 kilometer walk to the INWANGSAN Hillside where a variety of Shamanist temples and shrines are located. Most of the walk was along main roads, such as the one pictured above, however as I escaped from downtown Seoul the sidewalk narrowed, and then disappeared altogether. At the same time, the once flat streets gave way to depressingly steep hills; there were signs warning of 30 degree inclines!

Purely by luck, I happened across a peaceful park that was once where ritual sacrifices were performed on altars. Now, there were only a few random couples walking pets, elderly men going for a stroll, and me resting on a bench reading the international edition of the New York Times.

By the time I reached the entrance to the hillside walk it was already 11:00 a.m., which was far later than I was anticipating. Between stopping to read the paper, resting in a shop while eating a popsicle, and trying to find my way on numerous occasions (my Korean is naturally atrocious), it is no surprise it took so long. As for the hillside walk, there were a couple of things that are definitely worth noting. Firstly, the view of the city was amazing, as should be obvious from the pictures below. These pictures should also give an idea of what I am talking about when I say the city has mini-mountains all over the place.

The second worthwhile event was purely coincidental, and I nearly missed it entirely. As I was preparing to leave, I decided to take a small side path; I have never been able to resist the temptation of exploring. Anyway, I happened across a Shaman ritual being performed by five women and one man. I wanted to be polite, and thus did not not take any pictures, but the scene looked like the following: the man was kneeling in front of a shrine while beating a drum and performing a chant, while one woman was standing straight with a folding fan spread in front of her face. The rest of the women were standing off to the side tending to a variety of goods they brought with them (mostly fruits). After a few minutes of quiet observation, I realized the woman was crying, and I was left to assume that she lost her husband and this was a kind of petition to the gods to look after him. (Shaman gods are different in that they need sustenance to survive.) I spent 30 minutes just watching this ceremony, and while my recount of it may not sound all that interesting the truth is far different.

I decided to take the train back to downtown Seoul, and ate lunch at a fairly standard restaurant serving normal Korean fare. I ordered kimchi bokkeumbap, which is kimchi served over fried rice, and tangsu mandu, or fried dumplings with sweet and sour sauce. Both were delicious, and at only a few dollars/dish I easily got my money's worth. (As a side note, Korea uses the won, which is currently trading at around 10,000 won/USD.)

The only other exciting thing to happen in the afternoon was when I stopped in an arcade to see DDR madness, and also a batting cage I passed on the side of the street. I paid 10,000 won for 20 balls, but only made contact half the time. The trouble is not my hand-eye coordination (...), but rather there is no time to sight the ball before it flies past: the pitching machine is only 10-12 meters away (roughly half the distance from a pitcher's mound to the plate).

The rest of my afternoon and evening were spent with a Serbian girl named Senka, which means "shadow" in Serbian. Senka recently spent a couple of months in Japan, but was not crazy about the country. For someone not to like Japan, especially considering how she claimed it was difficult to become close with Japanese, I was able to easily guess the reason: she does not drink alcohol. Honestly, there is no way anyone can integrate and make friends in Japan without being willing to ADAPT, and much of Japanese life revolves around alcohol. Traveling is about experiencing new cultures, not just seeing new things.

I ate a spicy seafood bibimbap dinner with Senka and an American photographer who lives in Madrid, Spain. Afterward, I spent the next hour or two shopping for OMIYAGE, or souvenirs, to bring back for my friends in Japan. Bringing back OMIYAGE is an essential part of Japanese culture, and I ended up with enough goods to fill my formerly empty suitcase.

The last item on my agenda for the evening was visiting a Korean hot bath. I enquired at the front desk of my guesthouse, and wrote down directions to a fairly nice one that was only a 20 minute walk. Located in the basement of a large commercial building, this hot bath was slightly more exclusive than what I was expecting: it cost 12,000 won ($12USD), whereas most are only 4-5,000 won. The slight price jump got me better facilities, greater variety of baths to choose from, and probably a better clientele around me.

The hot bath process is the same as in Japan: (1) pay at the front counter and receive a locker key, (2) remove your shoes at the entrance and place them inside a shoe locker, (3) fully undress in the locker area before heading into the bathing area, (4) grab a towel on the way into the baths and proceed to cleanse yourself at one of the mini-stools, (5) climb into one of the hot baths (there are different varieties to choose from, such as green tea, normal tea, normal water, "special" water, etc), (6) alternate to the cold bath to stimulate blood flow, (7) break the routine with a trip to the sauna/steam room/freezer room (where massive slabs of ice line the walls), (8) let the body unwind.

I spent three hours at the facility, but only two hours inside the actual bathing area. Afterward, I wore a robe and joined the late-aged businessmen in the lounging area, or jjimjilbang. This area is unique to Korea, and one can lounge on the chairs and watch television, or even climb upstairs into a bed for actual sleep. I wish I could have done this, but I was returning to Tokyo on a 9:00 a.m. flight the following morning, which meant I had to catch the 5:00 a.m. bus to the airport.

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June 22, 2008

Tokyo JAPAN

Welcome to Seoul, South Korea!

As I remarked in yesterday's post, I did not return to the house until 5:30 this morning. Considering I have yet to pack or make any kind of substantial plans for my upcoming trip to South Korea, I whizzed around trying to get everything in order - sending off last minute emails to a Korean friend in Seoul, confirming my hostel booking, looking up transport options from the airport, finding train departure times for Narita Airport, and so on and so forth. Within a few hours, I said goodbye to Maki-san and Takumi and caught a train for Nippori Station, where I would then transfer onto the the KEISEI Limited Express line for Narita airport. (Details on why I am going to South Korea this weekend.)

It was only a 2-2.5 hour flight from Tokyo to Seoul, but from the moment I hopped on my first train to the moment I landed in Seoul I was only awake for a handful of minutes. It was a real shame I slept so much because the air hostesses on Air Korea were gorgeous!

After clearing immigration control in Seoul, I caught a "limousine bus" downtown. It was an 80 minute ride, so I was able to coordinate all my plans and start learning the basics of the Korean language. At 5:00 p.m., I hopped off the bus at ANGOK Station and walked 15 minutes to the BEEWON Guesthouse. My immediate impressions of the city were of cleanliness and a shock at how mountainous the landscape is! I have long heard that if Korea was flattened, it would equal the size of its dominating neighbor, China, but I never imagined this could be true! In fact, there are actually mini-mountains scattered throughout the city, not to mention the chains of peaks engulfing the city in the distance.

I dumped my bags in my dormitory room, locked up my valuables in a locker, and took a quick shower. At 6:00 p.m., a Korean friend of mine named So-Young picked me up and took me around the city. So-Young and I first met in Taipei two years ago during Taiwan's National Day Celebrations. She is currently a graduate student at Korea's famous University of Seoul.

I picked this guesthouse because the location is smack in the middle of the city, and it was only a 10 minute walk to the famous tourist-street called INSADONG. We have not seen one another for two years now, so there was plenty of catching up to do - and in fact I was very grateful she met me on such short notice.

We stopped for dinner at a traditional restaurant that branched off from the main avenue pictured above and ordered several standard Korean dishes along with Korean's Cass beer. The food was exactly to my liking: diverse, spicy, and filling. Unlike the rest of Asia, Koreans use metal chopsticks that make it easier to deal with meat. I find the flat, shorter metal chopsticks more difficult to use, but perhaps it is only because they are fairly new to me. (On a side note, I never would have imagined that I would know the differences between different chopsticks in the world, but in Hong Kong, China, Japan, and South Korea they are all different.)

After dinner we continued touring the INSADONG area before heading deeper into the city to see Seoul's recent protests firsthand. For the past couple of weeks there have been around 80,000 protestors marching on the streets of Seoul in protest of the re-introduction of American beef in the Korean market. The fear is related to past incidents of Mad Cow Disease, which affected much of the United States' cattle market several years ago. I was assured by So-Young that there is little for me, an American, to fear because the protests are against the Korean president's apparent reluctance to "protect the Korean people from dangerous food."

The protests took a turn for the worse two days ago when riot police attempted to disperse the growing crowds using tear glass and batons, and ever since there has been a massive police presence dispersed throughout the city. There is currently a 20 block radius with groups of police standing on guard, and on the main avenue next to City Hall there were large police buses blocking the roads. I was cautioned against taking pictures of the police presence, but that didn't stop me from snapping a few discreetly.

Outside City Hall, which is pictured to the left, there is a large park that has subsequently become the main camp for the protestors. Large organizer tents, numerous food stalls, capitalistic vendors with anything they think may sell, and a variety of other protest-related things covered the ground. Although tonight there was only a "small" showing of 10,000 people, it still felt like a lot when they were all holding candles and chanting in unison. There is no way any protests will ever top this experience in Taiwan from two years ago.

We next headed toward the famous Cheoyyenge Stream, which is a man-made waterway cutting through the heart of Seoul. It is easily one of the most photographed places in Korea, so I do not feel ashamed for posing in the "I have been here!" photo shown to the left. In fairness, the stream and surrounding walkways were far nicer than I would have imagined for such a touristy area.

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June 21, 2008

Tokyo JAPAN

Walking Tour: Shinagawa to Ebisu and a Night Out in Tokyo

At 7:00 a.m. tomorrow morning I catch a train for Narita Airport where I will then fly to Seoul, South Korea. However, that is tomorrow, and seven hours into tomorrow at that! The point being: it does not yet concern me (although I did make sure to call a guest house and reserve a bed for two nights). What does concern me today are how I would fill the day, and as usual there is never a dull moment: After an hour-long run along the docks of Tokyo harbor, I met Maki-san at 1:00 p.m. and we went on a walking tour from Shinagawa, through Shirogane, and into the Ebisu area. These are some of the nicest parts of the city, as boutique shops and quiet residential areas keep out the massive development famous to Tokyo.

We ate lunch in Shirogane, which means "white gold" in Japanese, at a restaurant famous for its SOBA noodles (shown to the left) and TEMPURA (fried style of cooking). We probably looked like fish out of water considering we were dressed for a long walk, while the other diners were all wearing the kind of casual, up-scale fashion that I like so much in Tokyo.

Afterward, we continued onward to the Ebisu district, stopping only at a small bakery that is one of Maki-san's favorites. She ordered me a couple カーリパン (KA-RI PAN, or curry-stuffed croissants) that I would save for breakfast at the airport tomorrow morning.

We reached Ebisu Garden Place, an outdoor shopping area with European-styled shops and cafes, at 3:30 p.m. and sat down for a cup of coffee. People watching was the order of the day, and there was a never-ending supply passing by in front of us.

With our batteries re-charged, we walked over to the Tokyo Metropolitan Museum of Photography. The museum was hosting a special exhibition for the famous Japanese photographer, Daido Moriyama. His jarring, often blurred work signified a drastic change from the static, sort of precise photos characteristic to most photographers of his generation.

The subjects of his work, coupled with the often dark lighting and slightly out-of-focus shots (an intentional technique), conveyed a sense of quiet reflection at the chaos associated with life in the rapidly-industrializing Japan. Indeed, in the time following World War II, when Japan averaged 8-10% annual growth over a 40 year period, there was an often-overlooked dark element taking shape (something that, in my opinion, no longer exists). Personally, the picture to the left stuck with me the most because it characterizes someone trying to "survive" during this turbulent period. The dog is dirtied, but of good breed; hungry, but still on its feet searching; scowling, but willing to be subservient if it will bring a better life.

Obviously, taking photographs inside the museum were forbidden, so I have searched the internet for a few more photographs (shown below.)

By the time we finished touring the museum, it was already 6:00 p.m., and I had to meet friends in a couple of hours for a night out. Maki-san and I hustled back to the house, where she prepared MABO-TOFU, a Chinese-inspired tofu dish that is a combination of bean curd and minced meat in a spicy chili sauce. I stuffed it in pieces of lettuce, along with a small portion of white rice, and ate it like a taco. Delicious!

I left the house at 8:30 p.m. and headed back to Ebisu station where I was meeting 20 or so friends at a place called the Liquid Room. With a live band playing downstairs, the place was more of a music venue than an out-and-out bar, but there was nevertheless plenty of room for our group to spread out. As the night wore on we decided to change venues, so I searched out an IZAKAYA that could seat such a large group (by this time, we had grown to around 30 people). This wasn't that difficult, and within 10 minutes I made a reservation at a nearby IZAKAYA. Since not everyone likes IZAKAYAs, which guarantees you get drunk because it is only 1000 yen (under $10USD) for all-you-can-drink alcohol for 2 hours, half the group went to a small place called Bar New York (where it was 1000 yen for a single drink).

...(What happens inside an IZAKAYA stays inside in IZAKAYA)...

When midnight rolled around everyone met back up at a massive club called CAMELOT. There was a 2000 yen foreigner's and ladies discount on the 3000 yen entry charge, so I was in good spirits - perhaps that had more to do with my blood-alcohol content, though. Regardless, I partied at the club until catching the first train back at 5:00 a.m. the following morning.

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June 20, 2008

Tokyo JAPAN

In Two Days I Leave for South Korea!

For the past couple of weeks I have been working with Tokyo Tech and the Japanese immigration bureau in a vain effort to renew my Japanese visa. To cut a long story short, I am currently on a tourist visa, which is only valid for 90 days - and in only 10 days the visa will expire. Given that I am a student in Tokyo, a student visa is the obvious option, but there is a 30-60 day processing period and no extensions are granted to American citizens. (Apparently, the American government makes life difficult for Japanese citizens who want to extend their visas, and such inhospitality is returned in kind.)

So, when I finally received word this morning that I have no choice but to leave the country I immediately began scouring the internet and calling all the tour agents around Tokyo. The problem is that I am a busy man - my mother is visiting next Wednesday, I fly to southern Japan next Saturday, and I have numerous classes/presentations/experiments littering my schedule.

By 12:30 I narrowed my options down and decided on a Sunday morning flight that gave me two nights in Seoul, South Korea. Talk about unpredictability: I am going to South Korea in a couple of days, which is one of the few East Asian countries I have yet to visit (the others being Bangladesh, Mongolia, and Bhutan.)

After picking up my tickets at an office near Shibuya's Tower Records building, the biggest in the world, it was back to reality: work in the laboratory, prepping for my LSATs, and a grueling three hours for soccer practice.

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June 19, 2008

Tokyo JAPAN

Never a Dull Moment: Helping a Friend Deal with a Stalker

Perhaps it is the fact that I now keep track of the events in my life, but it feels like my life has turned into a series of short stories. And tonight was no different. At 11:00 p.m., just as I was sitting down for dinner with Takumi and Maki-san, I received a troubling phone call from a Chinese friend. She has been complaining about a stalker for the past month or so, and tonight she was especially worried because he was waiting outside the grocery store where she works until late in the evening. I decided to catch the train to Ookayama, where Tokyo Tech's campus is located, so I could help her deal with this guy and hopefully put an end to it.

Takumi came along with me so he could converse with the Japanese police, but in truth we probably didn't look like the most trustworthy people in the world - I was wearing long, black running pants with an un-tucked polo shirt, while Takumi had a do-rag tied around his head and the kind of baggy clothes that always cause elderly woman to give a wide berth when passing. (And yet, the reality of who we are could not be further from the truth: Takumi met with the head of Tokyo's Boston Consulting Group earlier in the day, and he will be meeting executives from Goldman Sachs tomorrow as they all vie for his signature. Me? Well, perhaps I am useless, but I certainly am not dangerous.)

When we reached the Tokyu grocery store she was standing outside the building arguing with a well dressed man sitting placidly on a bench. I was shocked by how normal the guy looked: he was wearing a pair of slacks, a well-ironed white Oxford, and had neatly trimmed hair parted over to the side - hardly the kind of mental image associated with a stalker. In many ways, his appearance and the way he never showed any emotions, despite QianQian's animated arguing, made him all the more disturbing.

The entire conversation took place in Mandarin Chinese, and much of it was spoken too quickly for me, but I was able to catch the gist of what was being said. Basically, QianQian was pleading with the man to stop bothering her because she did not like him and he was scaring her. The man found this strange because he only wanted to get to know her better, as they are both Chinese living in Japan and she is so kind/pretty etc. This angered QianQian even more because their common nationality is the primary reason she has yet to report him to the police: she does not want to cause trouble for another Chinese. Anyway, the conversation went back and forth like this for 15 minutes, and Takumi and I were forced to stand by the entire time. I tried speaking up at one point, but I am nowhere near proficient enough in Mandarin to have an extended conversation and convey everything I am thinking. (Although the guy's face noticeably changed when he realized I could speak in his mother tongue.)

Eventually, she got the guy to leave, and afterward I convinced QianQian that going to the police was in her best interests - at least they would be prepared if this should happen again. Takumi and QianQian spent 30 minutes answering the questions of the police and explaining everything that happened. Stalkers are taken very seriously in Japan because there was once a serious problem with girls being assaulted. After filling out reports and and providing as much background information as possible, the police discussed tactics in case it should happen again: I follow the guy (with my cell phone) while QianQian goes for the police.

It was well past midnight when we finished, so Takumi and I walked QianQian home along Tokyo's dark, quiet evening streets. As a carry-over from the Edo-era (Tokyo was formerly called Edo when it was ruled over by a Shogun, or samurai ruler), many of Tokyo's streets are narrow with minimal lighting and walls on either side - the perfect setting for an attack. It was a 20 minute walk from Ookayama to Senzoku-Ike, which is a beautiful park where I once hosted a HANAMI party. She was very thankful for all our help, but being two WAKAMUSHA (young samurai), we replied it was no problem at all (and so on).

In retrospect, it was a good thing we did not hang around much longer because 90 seconds after reaching Senzoku-Ike train station we caught the last train for the evening. Otherwise, it would have been either a long walk home or a costly taxi ride (a famous saying is that Tokyo meters rise with one's heartbeat).

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June 18, 2008

Kisarazu JAPAN

SONY Factory Tour: PS3, Blu-Ray Discs, and Other Audio/Visual Products

Every Wednesday someone in my laboratory is responsible to cook something for the 20 or so members, and today was my turn. The simplest dish I could think of was ratatouille, which only required chopping up a variety of vegetables and stuffing everything in a boiler. Sadly, I was not able to enjoy my own cooking because at 12:30 I boarded a chartered bus heading for Sony's Kisarazu production facility.

Over the past few months I have been coordinating this event with Toru Iwasaki, the head of operations for the facility. There were 40 or so other engineering graduate students who also joined the factory tour.

The bus ride to Kisarazu was interesting in that it was my first chance to ride through the 9.6 kilometer tunnel underneath Tokyo Harbor. And this was no ordinary tunnel: it was constructed in a straight line such that the tunnel looked infinite. Of course, it wasn't hard for me to imagine what would happen if a serious earthquake struck Tokyo: the tunnel would be swallowed under the tremendous pressure of the ocean, and I would suffer a very, very miserable death. (No matter what my Japanese friends/colleagues argue, there is no way the tunnel can withstand such tremendous pressure - it will yield somewhere.)

After emerging from the tunnel there was a small rest area where everyone climbed out to use the bathroom. A couple of friends and I jumped a cordoned-off area and climbed a staircase that rewarded us with a great view of the surrounding ocean. From six or seven stories up, the ocean currents were plainly visible, and they have always been fascinating to see from afar.

As we were leaving there was a funny moment when a young Japanese boy saw us and surprisingly commented, "DAME!," which means something like "That's bad!" I guess it wasn't so much the comment as the look of shock on his face: breaking the rules so ostentatiously is not something a Japanese person would normally do.

Upon reaching the facility, we were given time to explore the lobby area, where various electronics were on display, including: Play Station 3 consoles, video equipment, various flat screen televisions, cameras, headsets, and so on. The gold Play Station to the left was (supposedly) the 10,000,000th to roll off the production line, which is fairly impressive. What impacted me more is the knowledge that the original Play Station was released on the market nearly 15 years ago! It certainly does not feel like it has been that long though, does it?

Before touring the manufacturing and packaging parts of the facility we were treated to a 30 minute presentation detailing the operations of the facility. The more notable facts I have jotted down are the following: 1,500 employees work at the 60,000 square meter facility, and annual sales are over 2.7 billion US dollars. Current production includes: Play Station3, HDD/DVD recorders, Blu-Ray Disc players, Blu-Ray Disc recorders, Optical Disk Drivers, Home Audio Products, and CS Tuners (I have no idea what these actually are.)

As for the actual tour of the facility, cameras were strictly forbidden. As such, my recount of the technology probably interests very few people in the world, so I will refrain from too much elaboration. However, it is certainly worth mentioning that the automated process whereby a motherboard is assembled was unlike anything I have ever seen. There were over a dozen massive machines that turned a green silicone board into one of the most complex computing systems known to mankind in a matter of minutes. (It is no exaggeration to say that it was a proper Japanese experience in that it is exactly what one would imagine a hi-tech assembly process would look like, with robotic arms whizzing around and pinpoint accuracy underlining every movement.)

The tour was followed up by a 30 minute Q&A session with the heads of all the departments, but most of the answers were asked to be kept confidential. By far the highlight of the afternoon was when Toru Iwasaki came out to say hello. I was sitting in the back of the bus, completely oblivious, when people began calling me to the front. I popped out was greeted by Iwasaki-san who kindly posed for a few photos with me.

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June 16, 2008

Tokyo JAPAN

A Few Facts on Japanese Vending Machines

There exists one vending machine for every 23 people in Japan.

Items for sale include: beer, bottles of whiskey or sake, rice, eggs, umbrellas, rentable movies, flowers, rhinoceros beetles (300 yen for a male, 100 yen for a female), fishing supplies, condoms, and even used girl's panties (BURU-SERA culture).

Over $140 million USD is spent every day at vending machines.

Over $51 billion USD is spent every year at vending machines.

For great photos of many of the aforementioned vending machines, check out this website.

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June 13, 2008

Tokyo JAPAN

Kangeikai (歓迎会, Welcoming Party) with the Soccer Team: "Drink 'til You Vomit"

Tonight was an interesting night. While there were unpredictable things that happened (stories to be revealed later in this post), the unpredictability was somewhat predictable for a simple reason: all the new players on the team were required to drink until they vomited. Whereas other newcomers (mostly freshman) were more worried about the individual performance they had to give, it was the effects of excessive alcohol that made me so apprehensive. It is no fun going into the night knowing that you will throw up - the fun and excitement of drinking is pushing the limit while preventing yourself from reaching that threshold. But, perhaps I am getting ahead of myself.

Although I have already taken part in a KANGEIKAI with the team (drinking party), this event was more "formal" in the sense that it was held on campus and was attended by ex-players who have since graduated. The fun kicked off (pun intended) after practice ended at around 19:00 in a private room of one of the university cafeterias. Food was laid out on all the tables, as well as beer and other Japanese spirits. All the new players on the team, numbering seven in total, entered together, and we performed a mock-striptease for the amusement of the elder players. Then, we took our seats at the head table, sitting across from the ex-players.

In Japanese custom, one never refills their own glass. Typically, this poses somewhat of a problem for me because it takes me much longer to get drunk than my Japanese friends, so if they don't pay attention and refill my cup then it can take a while. However, tonight that was not a problem: we had 2.5 hours to reach the vomiting stage, and glasses were constantly being refilled.

The first two hours were fairly uneventful, with the exception of the freshman goalkeeper who was the first to vomit. I had already pounded through three large glass bottles of Asahi beer (seen above), but was feeling no more than a buzz. This worked to my advantage though because I had to make several speeches in Japanese that would have been butchered if I was too drunk.

At one point, I performed a skit whereby I taught everyone "How to pick up girls in Tokyo," or "東京にどうやってなんぺする." The basis of my skit was setting a scene, such as "on a train," or "walking around Shibuya," and then I demonstrated my expert technique. I started with "Tokyo Tech," where I went around the room studying everyone's faces, growing more and more agitated as I progressed. Finally, exasperated, I screamed out, "女の子はどこにいますか？！" ("Where the hell are all the girls?!") This had everyone cracking up (the school is roughly 80% men), as did my final skit, which took place in a foreigner-populated area of Tokyo called Roppongi. Basically, in all the skits I was unsuccessful, so finally I scooted close to one of the players and whispered, "いくらですか？" ("How much money will it cost?").

Below is video from the tail-end of another skit. To this day, I have no idea what he was doing...

Toward the end of the KANGEIKAI it was becoming obvious that I would need to move on from beer to something stronger. So, we were all lined up in the middle of the room while we passed around two 1.5 liter bottles of NIHONSHU (Japanese sake, 25% alcohol), and we could not stop until both bottles were finished. This was the worst part of my night because I had to finish one of the bottles by myself. I knew how dangerous this was, but I came to Japan to be a part of Japanese culture and there was no backing down.

Afterward, I was stumbling, gurgling my words, and seriously ready to pass out. Twelve of the senior players were charged with watching over us for the night, so they shepherded all of us to the team's room in the athletic facility where we all passed out on the floor. Lying on the ground as an unconscious oblivion descended upon me, my night could have ended right here and everything would have been fine. But instead...

The freshman goalkeeper, the one who threw up earlier, puked his brains out AGAIN. This time, he couldn't reach a trashcan and literally vomited all over my right arm and shoulder. I was left with no choice but to pull myself together and head down to the showers on the ground floor. This was the last thing I remember of the night. The rest was later shared by other member's of the team...

Apparently, I passed out naked on the floor of the showering room with the water running. The senior players found me an hour later and dressed me in a team jersey before carrying me back upstairs. However, later in the night I grew thirsty, and apparently decided to walk to a convenience store near campus. Sadly, I never reached the convenience store. Instead, I got lost and ended up on a park bench where I passed out again.

It was on the park bench that I woke up the next morning, completely unaware of where I was or how I got there. And my head felt like it was in the world's worst vice. Since Japan is probably the world's safest country, there was no danger and my wallet and money were all intact. I asked locals for directions until I reached the nearest train station, and returned home wearing the team's soccer jersey - I probably looked a mess! Reflecting back, it would have been better had I thrown up because then I could have cleared my system of all the toxins, but instead I spent the rest of the day overcoming a tremendous hangover.

The most important thing is that neither myself nor the other players on the team will forget what transpired that night, making it all worthwhile!

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June 12, 2008

Tokyo JAPAN

A Japanese Response Upon Hearing Someone Doesn't Drink Alcohol

[With a dead serious look]: "Why? Is it because they are Mormon?"

Those few words should give very strong insight into Japanese the drinking culture in Japan. Quite simply, alcohol carries none of the negative social stigmas it does in a country like the United States, where people have all kinds of ingrained stigmas regarding the concept of alcohol.

This is NOT to say the Japanese way is better because the societies are completely different. What IS important is that one does not just look at a concept like alcohol through the filtered perspective of one's native country, but rather with an objective approach.

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June 11, 2008

Tokyo JAPAN

Japanese Economic Policy: Government and Business Are on the Same Team

The Japanese and American governments' role in business can be summed up neatly using a baseball analogy. Consider two competing teams: one representing Japanese companies and the other representing American companies. When the two teams compete in the United States, the American government acts as a kind of regulator, or umpire, ensuring everyone plays by the same rules, but always maintaining objectivity (at least in theory). Conversely, when the game is played in Japan, the Japanese government sides with the home team and acts as a facilitator to artificially strengthen Japanese interests.

Japan is often criticized for being globally irresponsible (for lack of a better word) when it comes to international trade relations. Japanese markets are strongly protected, and often insulated, by the government in order to keep Japanese companies strong. Following World War II, the United States allowed such tactics because globalization was still wearing a diaper and a powerful Japan was viewed to be essential in staving off communism. However, times have obviously changed, and this kind of nationalistic approach to economics is at odds with a global marketplace.

However, is such openness to foreign competition really in a country's best interests? This is an important issue because now, possibly more than ever, there exist calls for government protection against the swell of cheaper imports. Personally, I think an open and fair marketplace is always the best route so long as a market/industry is adequately developed.

In order to better elucidate my reasoning, I have copied several emails I recently exchanged with an Australian friend of mine, Denton. This discussion first came up in one of my courses where I raised the above points about the Japanese marketplace being unfair and counterproductive to Japanese interests. Denton's writing is in red...

I've thought it over a little more and I generally agree with what you said. How it's better to break something and let it fix itself properly from scratch than to let it grow exponentially greater with flaws in its basic structure. That kind of thing, right? Please correct me if I'm wrong.

Yes, from a domestic standpoint, it is in the best interest of a country to open the market to fair competition. Otherwise, companies will become complacent, and with time, inefficient. The government is then forced to bail out the company more and more frequently, until the company eventually goes under because it can no longer compete. When global trends shift - i.e. cheaper goods are produced elsewhere and the disparity will only grow - a company should adapt and get out of that market. In the U.S., this recently happened when GE, the world's second largest company, put its $5-8 billion dollar appliances unit on the selling block because its future prospects were looking dim (cheaper goods from abroad). This means the loss of jobs and a massive write-off for lost assets, but the U.S. government will not get involved - better 30,000 jobs lost now than 60,000 later. Indeed, many would argue that GE should have seen this 5 years ago and escaped from the industry then. From a government stand point, I would prefer 30,000 jobs lost today than 30,000 jobs lost 5 years from now; those 5 years could have been used to re-train everyone.

One important fact underlies all of this: a company should be responsible for looking after its best interests, not a government. Other than ensuring companies are "playing by the rules", the less government intervention the better, and a company can better navigate its future than a government.

The second point I want to make comes through examining this from an international standpoint, whereby it is in the best interests of the international marketplace if all markets are open to free competition. I hate when people say "Buy American!" or "Don't buy Chinese!" because that is at odds with capitalistic efficiency. Such protestations ultimately come down to nationalistic feelings that do little long-term good (as is discussed above). However, there is also an important point to be made that EVERYONE PROSPERS when global markets are open to the free flow of goods. Without getting into too much detail, this ensures that the consumer has access to the cheapest goods. Such a process works its way up the ladder in that a domestic car company has access to cheaper steel, and can pass this benefit on to the consumers. For example, if GM must always buy American steel, Americans will pay far more for their cars, and GM will sell less internationally. This is entirely nonsensical: it hurts GM and American consumers. While it is advantageous to ASSIST domestic companies to become more competitive (i.e. tax breaks for research, incentives for domestic manufacturing, and so forth), the marketplace should be kept FAIR and COMPETITIVE.

The purpose of government support is to make a company more competitive; I fail to understand how prohibiting competition makes them more competitive. If a company wants to become successful in a globalized world, it cannot focus solely on domestic sales. Why insulate a company from foreign competition when this will make them less-competitive internationally, thereby losing out on far greater in potential profits? To make this point more succinctly, it is better for a domestic company to be internationally competitive (thereby becoming a global powerhouse) than for a domestic company to be domestically competitive (thereby signifying it can no longer compete with foreign companies).

However, in this case, I'm not so sure it applies to the Japanese as much as to other countries.
I agree that Japan is very unique, but arguments such as "capitalism won't work in such-and-such a place" or "globalization won't work because of so-and-so," have repeatedly proven short-sighted... Certain concepts work for good reason, and with time, there is no reason the same rules will not apply in Japan. On another note, I think Japan is especially unique in that ANYTHING CAN WORK HERE, so long as the people have leadership that directs it.

The Japanese market is no longer big enough to compete with the international market. In the past, this technique worked because companies primarily sold domestically, and foreign companies could not compete in Japan. However, by subsidizing Japanese companies (to the point of profligacy), they are doing the companies - and thus the country - a disservice. The company is losing its long-term competitiveness.

Especially in the Electronics Industry, I think Japan is undoubtedly still the best, but certainly not the cheapest. But I think everyone prefers to buy quality than some cheap Chinese knockoff which will stop working after a few days. And judging by the Japanese students here at TiTech, who mostly (don't quote me) go to the big companies in R&D, I think Japan will still be at the forefront for many years to come. I feel that's the way Japan is at the moment. Of course, eventually time will tell, but from the Japanese government's point of view, why change it now?

People prefer to buy quality, and that is unlikely to change. However, how much longer will it take for other countries, such as China, S. Korea, Vietnam, and Taiwan, to match Japanese quality with far lower costs? (I think it has already happened, in fact.) If past exponential growth is any indicator, Japan's advantage cannot be maintained much longer (similar to how the U.S. lost its electronic advantage to Japan in the 1970s).

The argument about quality engineers is valid, but misses the point: such engineers should move onto new products, above and beyond standard electronics. Many of the world's smartest students (and 50% are not American) go to American graduate schools for engineering. I promise: they do not flock to standard research and engineering departments. Instead, they are busy going in 1,000 different directions trying to find the next big thing. I prefer this kind of individualistic approach to the structured interests of bureaucratic guidance that occurs in Japan. I trust aspiring and ambitious engineers more than out-of-touch, heavily lobbied, and completely ignorant men sitting at desks in corporate offices. (One big difference between Japan and America is where the large companies came from: in Japan they came from big families with government support, whereas in the U.S. they came from people like you and me who took an idea and ran with it - everyone else be damned.) As to your later point, I am not convinced that Japanese students are superior to India's ITT grads, China's Tsinghua grads, and so on.

Why change it now? "Change. Before you have to." Japan has lost much of its competitive edge - that is an irrefutable fact that Japan, like many developed countries, has struggled to deal with. Of course, Japanese companies still hold a strong "brand image," but so did many companies before our generation. Now, who remembers the likes of Zenith or RCA (to name but two)?! If modern companies do not want to join this list, they must learn to always change, always adapt, and never settle... I am not arguing that change for the sake of change is a good idea - if it ain't broken don't fix it - but that clearly is not the case.

If a government does not support a struggling company then it could fail, resulting in the loss of jobs. This is not good for an economy, and the government should prevent it.

I agree the loss of jobs are not good for an economy, and a government should take steps to prevent this from happening. One such step is to create an open marketplace so that failing business are allowed to fail - and the quicker the better (if there is no sign of things improving). For example, even though many American companies went bankrupt in the 1980s (as was the case with TV sets, handheld electronics, and certain manufacturing industries), this served the country well in the long term: future graduates did not go into such industries, but instead developed new industries. The likes of Google, Microsoft, IBM, Apple, (etc!) would never have come about if older behemoths still existed. I suppose this could be categorized as creative destruction.

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June 09, 2008

Tokyo JAPAN

"What Do You Mean You Don't Drink?! You are in Japan!"

This afternoon I met a handful of American students who are taking part in a Japanese language immersion course. (I will withhold their university and individual names.) However, the students and I have much in common, so I offered to take them out with some of my other American friends so we could all get to know one another. As is Japanese custom, I invited them out to an IZAKAYA (Japanese restaurant) so we could eat and drink together.

Immediately, all three students looked hesitant, and eventually they informed me that of their 14 person group, "no one really drinks, so an IZAKAYA is not a good idea." (As a somewhat irrelevant side note, but perhaps an important one to understand these students, they did not want to go out Saturday night anyway because of an exam the following week.)  For people in their early 20s, I found this hesitance toward alcohol strange, so I asked them if it was because of religious reasons or something different entirely. I mean, it was not like we were going out to get drunk together! The answer was not readily clear, but I sensed it had something to do with the fact that they never drink in the United States and typically view it in a negative light.

My immediate reaction was to scream out, "Good lord, why on earth did you come to Japan if you won't drink alcohol?! How do you expect to meet people here or build any relationships?!" In fact, the group hangs out primarily with each other, the sole exception being the arranged one-on-one discussion sessions with Japanese students. Why not stay in the United States if you are going to learn a culture and a language out of a textbook anyway?! The point of traveling to countries is to EXPERIENCE them, to BRANCH OUT, and most importantly, to overcome STIGMATIC BRAINWASHING inherent to any country. (Puritans -> Alcohol is bad.)

Anyway, when I relayed this story to several of my Japanese friends, they were even more baffled than I was simply because it is incomprehensible to them that drinking is viewed in a negative light.

This is very similar to Chinese who cannot FOR THE LIFE OF THEM understand why someone is a vegetarian. As rude as it may be, I always break out laughing whenever a friend tells a Chinese restaurant not to put meat in their dish. The Chinese will often respond by saying, "Oh, you are afraid of the health conditions or bird flu. Well, don't worry, the meat is safe and properly cooked!" When the vegetarian continues trying to explain that they "just don't eat meat," the invariable response is always: "But the meat is the best part!"

** As an additional note to what is written above, I am not against people who don't drink - there are very sound logical reasons why excessive alcohol is a bad idea. What I am against are people who, despite being knowledgeable or well-traveled, fail to think for themselves and escape the concepts they were brought up with. If you drink from the fountain of knowledge, drink deep! (Pun intended.) **

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June 08, 2008

Tokyo JAPAN

Shinto Priests Visit the House While I Race Off for Football Practice

I was supposed to go out with friends last night, but ended up passing out from exhaustion. It was probably for the best because it wasn't until 10:30 a.m. this morning that I regained consciousness. I then had to hurry because I was supposed to take part in the Shinto procession that was coming to visit the house at 11:00 a.m.

Kumagai-san arranged for the Shinto priests to both cleanse the house from any lingering bad spirits and to bless it for the coming year. She prepared an offering of NIHONSHU (Japanese rice wine), SHIO (salt), and MIZU (water) on a tray that was offered to the KAMI (see photo to the right). There was also a packet of money that serves as a kind of donation to Kita-Shinagawa JINJA (shrine), which is where all the priests are affiliated - similar to paying for indulgences, I suppose.

There were 20 or so people taking part in the event, and most of them had a different role to play - making it an interesting experience. The priests (above and to the left) laid the offerings in front of the KAMI's portable shrine, or KAMIDANA (神棚), and proceeded to bless us with the TAMAGUSHI (玉ぐし) leaves and incomprehensible words. The musicians (above and to the right) played traditional instruments that date from around the 7th Century. (It is in such ways that I have been so impressed by Japan: here I am, living in an ultra-modern house in downtown Tokyo, and yet people are still very much in touch with culture dating back more than 1000 years.)

I posed for a few more photos (shown above), but I felt bad because I was clearly under-dressed for the occasion. I had football practice starting at 12:00 p.m., so I had to run to the train start to get there in time... Showing up late means spending the entire 3 hour practice running, which was not something I was particularly keen about doing.

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June 07, 2008

Tokyo JAPAN

Commuting Back to Tokyo, A Party at the House, and an OMATSURI (お祭り): Carrying the OMIKOSHI (お神輿, or Shinto Shrine) Around Kita-Shinagawa

Today was one of those rare capstone days that will live with me forever. However, the day definitely had modest beginnings...

Despite yesterday being chock-full of activities, and the night chock-full of drinking, I pulled myself together at 5:50 a.m. and set off for the local train station in SAITAMA. Fortunately, I had already made Shindo-san promise to take me, so I woke him from his drunken slumber and had him drive me to the nearest train station. (For anyone worried about drunken driving, which was possible considering the circumstances, we did not pass a soul on the way given that this is a very rural area.) Even the train station was deserted, and my SUICA card (magnetic card storing money for trains) was useless. I printed directions yesterday detailing the transfers necessary to reach Tokyo, but I was not looking forward to the 2.5 hour train ride to come...

In the end, I had to stand for two hours because it was a Saturday morning and seemingly everyone in Japan was heading into Tokyo. Given that I only got a few hours of sleep and was battling a tremendous hangover, this was far more painful than it sounds!

I reached the house at around 10:00 a.m., and as usual Kumagai-san hardly gave me a moment's rest - it was a new day and there were things to be done, including a house party and an OMATSURI. So, I quickly showered, pounded a cup of coffee, and set off with her to do some last minute grocery shopping in Old Shinagawa. (Basically, I was the slave with the unenviable task of carrying all the groceries home.) Nevertheless, it was an interesting walk because I caught Kumagai-san up on all of yesterday's activities, and we saw the start of the weekend's OMATSURI celebrations.

Basically, an OMATSURI is a traditional Japanese festival that is held at important times of the year. This weekend was a special occasion for the Kita-Shinagawa neighborhood because the local Shinto god, or KAMI, would be carried around the neighborhood by residents. Given that Kita-Shinagawa is located in inner-Tokyo, and there is a very famous, ancient shrine nearby, this particular OMATSURI is very unique. Most importantly, Kumagai-san arranged for me to take part in the festivities by helping other GOTENYAMA (the neighborhood in which we live) residents carry the OMIKOSHI, or portable Shinto shrine.

With the help of a cleaning lady who comes every Saturday, we finished our party preparations just before the first guests arrived at 1:00 p.m. In all, there were about 20 people (representing four continents) at the party, which is remarkable in Japan. Typically, even close friends never visit each other's homes because (1) the home (often an apartment) is not big enough, and (2) Japanese often prefer to keep their internal affairs private. However, Kumagai-san is no normal person, and her guest list indicated that: the guests ranged from lawyers to businessmen, and at any given time four or five different languages were being spoken (although everyone was also fluent in English).

I had a great time going around meeting everyone even though I looked like a SUSHI SHOKUNIN (すし職人, or sushi chef) in my traditional festive attire. The OMATSURI TABI (お祭りたび), shown to the right, are particularly fashionable, as is the dragon-styled HACHIMAKI (鉢巻, or bandana). A special thanks to Kumagai-san who purchased my outfit!

At 3:30 p.m. I excused myself and left to meet the other men who would carry the OMIKOSHI. Although I had been warned numerous times about the difficulties to come, I had no idea what was in store for me. I mean, how hard can carrying a portable shrine be?!

The only proper way to cover the event is to use a slideshow of photos. This will make it more interesting and give a semblance of order to what was otherwise a day of madness.

Money shot!		All things considered, it really was remarkable.	Start of the festivities. We are carrying an OMIKOSHI (portable Shinto shrine), which weighs roughly 500 kg (1100 lbs).	The point of this event is to carry the KAMI (Shinto god, see red masked figure on OMIKOSHI) through the neighborhood as part of a yearly tradition.
And the OMIKOSHI can never be allowed to touch the ground!	Japanese man playing traditional flute while another beats the drums. We march, in turn.	The technique is to position the wooden beam on your shoulder and swing your arm over the beam. (See man on left.)	Ichikawa-san, the man who leads our group. (In "real life," he is a head-hunter for corporate executives)	What cannot be seen from these photos is the rigorous shaking/bouncing we are doing.
I am still feeling good (5 minutes into the 3 hour ordeal).	Daniel, a Brazilian man who is working in SONY's Tokyo HQ. Interestingly, he speaks four languages (Portuguese, English, Spanish, and French)	Once more, demonstrating that we can handle anything... And at the time, we could because everyone was still fresh.	Elderly Japanese men who can no longer carry the OMIKOSHI	Walking through Old Shinagawa, 30 minutes into the ordeal.
This is starting to take a toll on me.	Catching my breath.	I feel no pain	Preparing to lift the OMIKOSHI.	The GOTENYAMA (neighborhood in which I live) group is famous for swinging the OMIKOSHI non-stop to demonstrate that we feel no pain.
	By this point, we had a massive crowd following us.	And men clearing our way through the streets.		When Daniel realized enough is enough, this is madness.
And yes, MADNESS it was!	Pinched nerves, bruised shoulders, and the blood vessels are starting to clog.	But we had to keep putting on a brave face.	Hell, a HAPPY face.	And on we went...
		Sweat was covering me from head to toe, by this point, 1 hour in.	Others have it EASY	But at least we get the attention and recognition!
Ichikawa-san leading the OMIKOSHI		More lifting...	A big part of the problem was that I was taller than everyone, and so bore more of the weight.
A still-frame from one of our many "let's show all we have got" demonstrations... Basically bouncing the OMIKOSHI and swinging it from side to side.	Naturally, this is the most painful thing you can do, which is why it is so important to do it and show our commitment to the KAMI	Young girl dressed as a GEISHA (although I doubt her teeth are dyed black, as was the custom in the past).	More strenuous lifting... I look like a beaver.	A French friend snapping photos.
Continuing to wind our way through Old Shinagawa on the way to Shinagawa Jinja (an important shrine).		The shrine is at the end of this road... At last!	But it took us 20 minutes to go down this road because we had to further demonstrate our commitment to the KAMI.	The shrine is up those steps across the street....
New people jump in to help... The people in the front were rotated every minute or so because they were tasked with shaking the OMIKOSHI non-stop.	While those of us in the middle had to bear the brunt of their lifting up and pulling down.	...Another lift...	...And holding it for over a minute...	Preparing to start climbing
What am I getting myself into?!	The police clear our way.	With the first step, I knew this was madness... We were all tripping over each other, meaning the OMIKOSHI was swaying violently.	And if this thing fell, it WOULD crush people to death (it happens every year).	15 hours ago I had finished a day of rafting and was happily drinking with my lab-mates.
Now, I am wondering if I will ever survive this.	The confusion continues.	Up FIFTY-TWO steps!!	And we were bouncing it on every step to show this was "easy"...	Every 5 steps we went down 3 to show that we could do this forever...
But we made it to the top, eventually.	And danced around in the courtyard of Shinagawa Jinja for 15 minutes of nonstop shaking and running - to the amazement of our ever-growing crowd.	Another lift!	More running and stampeding from side to side.	A moment's rest at the shrine while the priests blessed the shrine (it rested on supports so as not to touch the ground).
Needing to escape the madness to recollect myself.	Money shot.	But we are only half done - we still have to go BACK! And going down was FAR WORSE!!	By the end, I was literally DRENCHED in sweat. But beer awaited!!	This probably gave me an ulcer.
	Daniel and I	Friends posing while we took one of two rests (the second being at the shrine).	At least we had plenty of support!	A real cultural experience!

The festivities finished at around 7:00 p.m., but everyone hung around to eat and drink together outside the luxurious Hotel Laforet (which kindly supplied the beer and food). However, I only had a few cans to celebrate with the other men, despite their loud protestations - I was the only person who carried the OMIKOSHI the entire way (not getting changed out). However, I wanted to return to the house so I could re-join the other party. After a quick shower, I headed to the roof where a dozen of us spent the next couple of hours chatting, drinking, and eating. All in all, it was a tremendous day, and I count myself lucky for having had the opportunity to experience it.

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June 06, 2008

Saitama JAPAN

Bi-Annual Laboratory Trip: White Water Rafting in SAITAMA (埼玉県), Relaxing at an ONSEN (温泉), and a NOMIKAI (飲み会) at the Lodge

I reached my laboratory on Ookayama campus at 7:15 a.m., leaving me 30 minutes to catch up on emails before everyone arrived. Several members slept overnight in the laboratory, as is often their wont. I once found it strange that members' lives revolved around the laboratory, but as the year has gone by I have come to feel similarly. We often eat two meals a day together, and I have also spent the night at the lab to watch important football matches on the projector. It probably also helps that we have had numerous NOMIKAI drinking parties that are the primary way of strengthening relationships in Japan.

Today would include numerous activities that would bring us closer: white-water rafting together, stripping down to our birthright at an ONSEN (hot spring), a night of no-holds-bars drinking in a NOMIKAI celebration (professor's included), and sleeping the night off on the floor of the wooden lodge.

Back to this morning, though, when we piled into half a dozen cars for the 2.5 hour drive to Saitama Prefecture, which is North of Tokyo. I was riding with Shindo-san, who has a never-take-anything-too-seriously attitude, which is somewhat uncharacteristic for Japanese. Would you trust the guy, pictured to the left, driving you around Tokyo's narrow streets?

Before going rafting, we stopped at a traditional Japanese restaurant where all 23 of us sat on TATAMI (畳) mats and ordered dishes like TONKATSU (とんかつ, or pork cutlet) and UDON (うどん, or thick, wheat-based noodles). I have never been flexible enough to find a comfortable sitting position in such circumstances, so I broke custom and spread my legs flat underneath the table. I am fairly certain this is a big no-no - one should never point their feet in someone else's direction (I believe this has Buddhist origins) - but amongst friends it doesn't seem to matter. One thing that did matter during lunch was keeping track of the first game of the NBA play-offs, which were taking place in Boston, thousands of miles away. I was constantly refreshing the scoreboard on my mobile phone as I rooted on the Celtics from a somewhat poor vantage point. (The Celtics ended up winning the game 98-88.)

We reached the white-water rafting lodge complex at around 13:00, but there was about an hour's worth of waiting before we would set off. We unloaded most of our gear and left in the lodge, as this was where we would sleep later in the evening. Since everything was being arranged through a single operation and we had so many people, the price for the weekend was more than reasonable. However, rather than idling around doing nothing during the wait, we broke out the athletic equipment and started knocking balls around. I juggled a football with a few other guys while the less-skillful satisfied themselves with a volleyball.

The most exciting activity came when I pulled everyone aside and used my shoes to draw a ring in the middle of the gravel parking area. The competition was simple: a make-shift sumo tournament using only one's hips. (The only real rules were not to use your hands, and the first person to step out of the ring or fall down loses.)

I was half-expecting to get dominated as many of the lab members are black-belt martial artists, but I ended up going 6-0 before I was finally defeated by a newcomer to the game. Obviously, he was fully rested, whereas I was tiring by this point. Obviously.

Shortly afterward we prepared to go rafting, which amounted to a 20 minute speech on the dangers of the river. May has been a strange month in Tokyo as it has rained every other day, so the river was running 20 meters wider than normal. Coupled with the jagged nature of Japan's mountains - 70% of the country is considered mountainous - the rapids promised to fulfill everyone's expectations.

I immediately hopped in the front of our boat, but caught a fair bit of flack from the safety instructor when I could not understand his instructions, which were delivered in colloquial Japanese. As the "head of the boat," it was my responsibility to lead everyone, which would be fine when there are actual rapids (I have gone rafting a few times in the past, and it isn't like it is THAT hard). However, the guy decided to make an example of me, which nearly cost him an oar to the head.

As for the actual rafting, most of the rapids were only a level 1 or 2, but there was one section that featured level 3 rapids. Obviously, taking pictures was impossible.

After rafting, we were all freezing cold from the water and had three hours to kill before our evening BBQ. So, we headed for the local ONSEN (hot springs), which was a real steal at only 600 yen ($6USD). This is not the kind of place where one can walk around snapping photos, but I was able to snap a few shots from the outside - they should give a good indication to the high quality of Japanese ONSEN.

Inside, I took my shoes off at the door, placing them in an individual locker and slipping the key cord around my wrist. Then, I was handed a nylon bag containing towels, a robe, and another locker key where I could leave my clothes. (From here on, the men and women were divided into separate facilities.) I stripped down in the men's changing room, and headed into the bathing area where I spent 15 minutes washing myself with the provided soap and shampoo. The bathing area consists of a semi-partitioned space with a small stool, a wooden bucket, a faucet, and a shower head. Before anyone enters the hot springs they should clean their body to ensure the water is kept clean.

Like most ONSEN, there are several hot spring options: the electrically heated indoor bath, and the actual hot springs (usually 40cm deep, although there is usually an additional bath, only 20cm deep, that is meant for lying down). Additionally, there is usually a sauna with a cold-water bath outside. One of my favorite things to do is to endure the sauna for as long as possible before heading into the cold water bath and fully submerging myself. This usually slows my heart-rate down significantly, and after a while it actually becomes difficult to breath.

After 1.5 hours of total relaxation, I threw on my robe, shaved, brushed my teeth, and joined several friends for a beer on the TATAMI mats. Honestly, this was the highlight of my day: an ice-cold Asahi beer in a frosted mug. And on an empty stomach, with hardly an water in my body after rafting and sweating it out in the sauna, I was well on my way to getting drunk for the evening.

Dinner consisted of an Asian-styled BBQ, which basically means sitting around a table and cooking the food on burners built into the table. While this isn't the American concept of a barbeque (where a grill immediately springs to mind), there is still good food and plenty of alcohol. I sat with my professor and half a dozen other lab-mates, which may have been a mistake because we all deferred to Okuma-sensei so he could eat to his heart's content.

Afterward, at around 9:00 p.m., the real fun began. 22 people piled into the main floor of the lodge (Sarah-san, an Iranian graduate student, does not drink and so went to sleep early), and the OSAKE (alcohol) and TABEMONO (snacks) came out. As I have mentioned time and time again, there are NO STIGMAS against drinking in Japan. And truthfully, this mentality makes far more sense because it is a fun-loving atmosphere where people interact and enjoy themselves - professors included. I will not mention what was talked about or what went on, but I will go ahead and upload a few photos to give an idea what the venue was like...

The best part about the night was that no one had anywhere to hide. Since the party took place where everyone would later sleep (or pass out), it was guaranteed that everyone got suitably drunk, which is the purpose of the entire engagement. However, since this concept of drinking is not universally shared, I also want to point out that NO ONE threw up, which is absolutely remarkable considering the amount of alcohol consumed. I suppose this is why I am now so open about the concept of excessive drinking. In European countries, drinking is a part of the lifestyle, but it should never be done in excess. However, in Japan they take this one step further: drinking SHOULD be done to excess because that means you are fully opening up and enjoying yourself. However, there are never and fights or problems caused, and everyone looks out for each other, so this approach works better than any I have ever seen - it is somewhat counter-intuitive.

Read the following for a more detailed look into the background of Drinking in Japan.

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June 05, 2008

Tokyo JAPAN

Weekend Plans: White Water Rafting in Saitama (埼玉県) and Participating in a Japanese Festival (OMATSURI, or お祭り)

This is going to be a busy weekend, so if I fail to post at some point I apologize. However, there should be plenty of interesting stories to tell come Monday...

Tomorrow morning I am meeting at my laboratory at 7:30 a.m. for a "lab trip." All of the students, professors, and secretaries (totaling 20 people) are heading to Saitama, which is 3 hours North of Tokyo by train, for a day of rafting and other debauchery. Everyone will also stay around Saturday for mountain biking, but I will catch the first train back to Tokyo so I can participate in the local Japanese festival.

On Saturday, Kumagai-san is hosting a party at the house starting at 13:00. There will be 15 or so people coming, including half a dozen nationalities and ages ranging from 22 to... (It is more diplomatic if I don't state the upper limit!) I will be dressed out in my festival attire (photos to come later!!) because at 15:30 I will help carry the portable shrine around Kita-Shinagawa. This two hour process will be laced with rest-stops to drink alcohol and converse with the crowd. The march will end at Shinagawa-jinja, which is a shrine located nearby. The rest of the night will include more drinking and merriment. I do not want to write too much now because this will be my first Japanese festival so much of it is new to me.

On Sunday, I will have a day off. In the morning, a masked figure will come to the house and perform some kind of ceremony to ward off evil spirits. We will repay his efforts with servings of alcohol and so forth. Then, the afternoon will be spent relaxing on the roof and watching another nearby festival take place.

And truthfully, I could use a day-off: this morning I subjected myself to the infamous lash that broke the humped-one's back. I stupidly set off on a 13 mile run, which was my first run in months. (Granted, I play soccer on a daily basis, but somehow that works slightly different muscles.) I was only planning on going for 30 minutes - possibly to the docks or along the Meguro river - but I changed my mind en route and ended up returning a couple of hours later. My muscles are now in considerable pain. I met David and Neil at the Ebisu Beer Hall this evening for our weekly get-together, but even the four glasses of Premium Lager couldn't numb the aches.

** The great thing about a personal web-blog is I can share my own inconsequential stories. The bad thing about a personal weblog is nobody cares to read about my inconsequential stories (barring my very loyal mother). My apologies. **

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June 04, 2008

CHINA

A Typical "First Day" in Beijing for the Olympics

07:00 - "Chicken and Rice or Eggs and Toast?" (Quick mental debate: do I start eating Chinese meals? Nah, there will be enough of that after I land in China.) "Eggs and Toast please."

08:00 - Flight Enters Final Descent. Flying several hundred meters above China, all eyes are glued to the countryside below. For most on the flight, this is the first trip to China, so everyone is curious. Fortunately, the tower is inundated with flights and there is a 45 minute holding pattern in effect. Never before have so many people converged on Beijing. Typical thoughts during the wait include:

(1) [Looking out the window] Where are all the people I heard about?

      Answer: Just wait.

(2) Why is it so smoggy today?

      Answer: That isn't smog: it is pollution. Tonight when you blow your nose the snot will be black.

(3) Have I done anything that might get me turned away upon arrival?

      Answer: You better hope not!

08:45 - Plane "Hits" the Tarmac. Although I will not name them, several Chinese airlines are notorious for employing ex-military pilots who were not trained on airlines - such things happen when a country has the fastest growing airline industry, and none of the infrastructure to train enough pilots in time. Consequently, such flights tend to drop out of the sky like stones upon landing. Since most people will enter China on international airlines this will not be an issue.

09:00 - Gate Delays. There is a wait for your gate to open as there are too many planes on the tarmac.

09:30 - Smile for the Camera. Having stepped off the plane, with a vice-like grip on your passport, you pass the masked officials in white lab coats who are scanning you with advanced video equipment. Their concern? Bird flu. Don't worry, you come from a developed country that has not been plagued by bird flu.

10:00 - Holding Your Breath for Immigration. If you were one of those people who attended an anti-China protest, your stomach is doing flips while waiting to reach the immigration desk. There is no way of knowing who is on China's "black list" until you are denied entry and put on a return flight home.

10:30 - Lost Luggage at Baggage Claim. No city in China has ever seen such a massive influx of people, so there will be lost luggage. The first time I arrived in China both my bags were lost. What's worse is that the bags were lost separately. While one of my bags was "located" six days later, the second bag took six weeks. Pray this doesn't happen to you, but if it does, relax: everything is cheap in China and most of your belongings were manufactured here anyway.

11:00 - Standing in "Line" for a Taxi. Firstly, (and most importantly) ignore the black market taxis vying for your business. The government is always cracking down as these private cars are notorious for over-charging foreigners, but where there is money to be made (and people to be "had") there will be those looking to take advantage. Instead, head to the lengthy queue for registered taxis, but don't be surprised when people start cutting you in line.

11:15 - Directions to the Hotel. This is a critical moment, so hand over the printed page containing directions to your hotel. MAKE SURE your bags are in the trunk and it is closed properly. Then, climb into the taxi (it is normal to ride in the front seat) and insist on using the meter. Lastly, buckle your seat belt.

11:30 - Conversing with the Taxi Driver. Every taxi driver in China is preparing a list of useful English phrases, so sit back and relax as they display their long-heralded Chinese friendliness. However, don't be surprised when the driver doesn't understand your responses - especially if you are trying to speak Mandarin. Mandarin is a tonal language, which means that unless you were trained by a professional or used tapes, no one will understand what you are saying. Further, most people will never even realize you are trying to speak Chinese.

12:00 - Hotel Worries. Surprise, surprise: the hotel is over-booked. But don't worry, they have a room for you on the sixth floor. You now have a haven to which you can "escape" when the Beijing heat and madness becomes too much.

12:30 - Collecting Yourself. After putting down your bags and plopping down on the bed, you flip on the television and have your first look at Chinese television. Most people will settle on CCTV 5, which features (censored) English news. As you relax, you realize that the day hasn't been so bad. However, you have only seen the Chinese world through windows, so you decide to shower and head out to explore part of the city.

13:30 - Setting Out to Explore Beijing. Make sure to dress in loose clothes as Beijing will be unbearably hot in August. Stop by the front desk or the concierge to pick up a map. You decide on visiting the "Back Lakes" where there are many restaurants and a pleasant ambience. Have the concierge write the Chinese characters on a slip of paper, and before leaving make sure you have an hotel card on you.

13:45 - Picking a Taxi. When you walk outside you will be approached by private drivers speaking very good English. They will offer to take you on a tour of all the big sights and will wait for you every part of the way. But you will not fall victim to this, you will follow the rules from above and take only registered taxis.

14:30 - First Taste of Chinese Food. The driver drops you off in the midst of a mob of people. Welcome to the "Back Lakes," which are heralded as a quiet retreat, but are anything but that. Choose one of the many restaurants with English-speaking staff and English menus. You are feeling ambitious and excited about the prospect of being in China, so you eagerly decide on Chinese food for lunch. Sitting down to order, you take your first look at one of China's many hilarious menus. Then, order the kind of food you remember from the local Chinese take-out place back home. Or be adventurous, but be careful...

15:00 - Chopsticks, Bones, and Table Manners. Welcome to the world of chopsticks! They are brilliant, but it may be frustrating to use them at first. If so, use the large white spoon provided to help scoop the food. As for the bones in your food, learn your lesson! Next time order dishes without bones in them. As for today, do as the Chinese and simply spit the bones directly onto the table.

16:00 - Paying for Lunch. There is no need to tip, don't worry. However, cash is king in China.

16:15 - An Interactive Zoo. That is the best way to describe what it is like walking around Beijing for the first time. You are free to look, stare, gawk, and even laugh. Chances are good that the Chinese will be doing the same to you. Some may even approach you looking to take a picture together. Do not be shy, the Chinese are amazing in their friendliness. You will probably end up making a very good friend. (Yes, it is THAT easy.)

17:00 - Your First Purchase. No matter how much I stress this, everyone will ignore the following advice: there is no rush to buy on the first day. EVERYTHING you see today can be found tomorrow. The longer you wait, the more confident you become about how much it SHOULD cost, and the less likely you are to paying over the top. However, since things are so cheap anyway, most buy at will. Heed the following advice: divide all prices by four and be firm. Shocking, but effective.

18:00 - Starbucks. Call me a cynic, but most people will end up here. They can't help themselves, I guess.

19:30 - Jet Lag. The coffee didn't work. Time to return to the hotel.

20:30 - A Full Chinese Dinner. Probably served in bed via room service.

21:00 - Exhale.

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June 03, 2008

CHINA

The Beijing Olympics Are More Uncertain Than Ever

Over the past couple of years there have been numerous reports detailing Beijing's progress in its Olympics preparation, but that has all changed over the past couple of months. News on the preparatory efforts have dried up. Granted, Beijing is notoriously tight-lipped about its progress, reflecting a tendency to unveil massive projects when they are at (or very near) completion. However, it is strange that the government is not reassuring the world that everything is on schedule; it would be the first positive news about China in a long while.

As far as the preparatory efforts, there are two major components: making the necessary social adjustments and building sufficient infrastructure.

As for the former, there is a universal belief that people (on both sides) will be in for a massive cultural shock. Efforts are being made to improve the "imminently noticeable" things, like taxi drivers knowing a few words of English and keeping the city clean. This may sound simple, but it is a massive undertaking. I have visited Beijing four times over the past couple of years, and there have certainly been slight improvements, but there is an (impossibly) long way to go...

As any mother will testify, bad habits are hard to kick. Foreigners will be in for a shock with the spitting, the smoking, the pollution, and the millions of other daily tendencies that make the Chinese unique - just ask anyone who has visited China and they will ring off a dozen "only in China" stories. Likewise, exposure to people from all over the world will be mind-blowing for the Chinese populace. It is for the same reasons that I am trying to reach Beijing this August. My intent is not just to attend a sporting event (tickets are nearly impossible to obtain and I get a better view from the television), but rather to experience such a landmark event. Is there any other event that brings together so many everyday people from so many countries?

As for the the actual construction of new metro lines, sporting venues, and other necessary facilities, the earthquake has put a serious dent in Beijing's efforts. Current estimates from Xinhua (China's government-backed news agency) state that 70,000+ people are confirmed dead, 365,000+ are injured, and 15+ million people have been evacuated from the quake zones. Most of Beijing's attention has been focused on coping with the aftermath. To top this off, Sichuan (the area most affected) is China's most populous province. Consequently, many people from this region relocated to Beijing in search of better work opportunities (i.e. construction), but have since returned to their hometowns in search of their loved ones. How much of an effect does this shifting of focus have on the construction projects? Further, It does not help that the government is also fighting a publicity campaign against the many protestors advocating a boycott of the Olympics.

I have heard whispering that the earthquake has actually helped Beijing because it deflected attention away from the Tibet issue - people don't want to bash a country struck by such a horrific disaster. However, as the above paragraph should make clear, the crippling earthquake is having a more direct impact on the Olympics. Whether or not people protested, the Olympics would go forward as planned. With 100% certainty they will still go forward, but now Beijing has relinquished much of its power to control how everything will turn out.

The year 2008 was supposed to be China's coming out party. The Olympics were to be the unveiling of a "new, modern China," and with every news agency in the world centered in Beijing the world would all watch and cheer on, or so the theory went. However, with Tibetan riots, Olympic protests, Chinese animosity against "friends turned enemies," and the disastrous earthquake, this year has turned into a worst-case scenario.

There is still hope: eight is a propitious number in Chinese culture, and the start of the Olympics is 8/8/2008. Will the Olympics come through after all, and be the unifying event that brings the world together? Only time will tell, but with so much riding on the Olympics there is no place I would rather be come August.

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June 02, 2008

Tokyo (JAPAN)

The All-Too-Often Overlooked Strength of the United States

Just a quick post today as I am afraid my day was fairly routine. I thought about extracting the smallest minutiae of the day's happenings to string something together, but it would have been a resounding failure. (Although the way most of my posts turn out doing so would have been par for the course.)

Anyway, what I wanted to write about today is a response to the fears regarding the future of the United States. With the economies of the so-called BRICK countries (Brazil, Russia, India, China, and S. Korea) surging ahead, there exists never-ending speculation regarding a global shift of power. I don't want to turn this into another tit-for-tat debate on which countries "have what it takes over the long-term" because that only fuels animosity - I doubt there is a government in the world that thinks their long-term strategy is flawed. However, it is ridiculous to think that the waning power of the dollar or President Bush's lack of popularity signal a downward trend for the United States.

Simply put, the country was not built by such temporal issues; in one year there will be a new president, and in the next economic cycle the dollar will likely recover. However, the true engine that drives the country cannot be measured, tabulated, or polled, and so no one pays it any mind. What is this 'engine' that I am referring to? It is the United States' unparalleled capacity to empower its citizens.

I have no idea what my friends or I will go on to do with the rest of our lives, but I do know that we are all ambitious, well-educated, and are not afraid to dream big. No matter what happens in the world - be it changing prices at the pump, a surge in global conflicts, or even natural disasters - the core potential remains within every citizen. Many people criticize this "core potential" because it manifests itself in a populace who are seen as "competitive, ambitious, and indulgent" individuals. However, each of those traits ensure that the United States populace will not roll over when the going gets tough. In fact, I belief the opposite holds true: Americans show their true colors when the chips are stacked against them. History backs me up in such a claim, but more importantly than the past is that the future will soon back up such words.

(In fairness, I believe many countries share such attributes. Ambition, competition, and indulgence are not American inventions, but I cannot think of anywhere else on the planet where they thrive so much.)

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June 01, 2008

Tokyo (JAPAN)

Football Match near Shinagawa Harbor, Crying Tendencies in Japan, and a 'Wet' Japanese Movie: Always SANCHOME NO YUHI (三丁目の夕日)

At 10:15 a.m. I left the house and began walking toward Tokyo Maritime University’s campus (東京海洋大学), which is located in 5-Chome Shinagawa (5丁目北品川), for a soccer match. Kick-off was at 12:00, and the result would determine whether or not our team would progress in this pre-season tournament. Obviously, I was itching to play and win the game for the team (a confidence I cannot shake), but I knew it was not to be. Nevertheless, I still fervently support the team in their endeavors - not that it was particularly difficult today given that I could actually walk to the match, which is remarkable when one considers the size of Tokyo.

I coordinated my route to the campus so that I passed through the 1950s-looking part of Tokyo in Old Shinagawa. I actually made a similar tour last weekend with Kumagai-san when we toured Tokyo Harbor last weekend. The T.Y. Harbor Brewing Co., along with two (of the many) canals crisscrossing this part of Tokyo, can be seen in the picture to the left.

With the temperature nestling comfortably at 20C (70 degrees Fahrenheit) and hardly a cloud in the sky, this was a perfect day to be outdoors. In truth, this is the kind of early-Summer weather I have been looking forward to, rather than the dreary rain that plagued the month of May.

At the field, I abandoned the comfort of the bench and the shade of the team tent, preferring to sit out on the grass while cheering on the team. Despite a horror-show of refereeing (I doubt home field advantage could have been any more obvious), our team came from one goal down to tie the match, 1-1. Unfortunately, we could not add to that tally, and were eliminated from the tournament – despite never losing a match. If I could have been given a 15 minute run-out I would surely have put us through to the next round. Oh well, in the next life.

After being knocked out of the tournament, team moral was fairly low. I went around picking up player’s spirits, saying things like, “気にするな” (meaning “don’t mind”) and offering advice on things that can be improved. This was actually a lot more effective than I was anticipating: whereas Americans want to be left alone after a loss, Japanese are more inclined to come together as one. Further, they respond well to positive input.

Something else worth noting, and this is something I have witnessed on a variety of occasions, is a tendency for Japanese men to cry. I have always been startled by such occurrences because in Western culture crying is a definite sign of weakness. Conversely, in Japan, when a man sheds tears after trying (and failing) it does not carry any negative connotations. This is not to imply that I have seen “weak” men crying because it is has been the opposite – the ones who fight with the spirit of samurai are always the most distraught when things go badly. This kind of fighting spirit, or TOUKON (闘魂), is looked highly upon by Japanese because they see it as a sign that someone is committed and cares.

Personally, I remember as a boy when I would cry after pouring my heart into something and failing (be it baseball, basketball, or soccer), and it was always made very clear to me afterward that this was unacceptable – “men don’t cry,” and all that. Now, any feelings of sadness I might have are transformed into an even greater (almost unhealthy) desire to win next time. My friends refer to this as being TOSOSHIN (闘争心), which means having a strong fighting spirit and combative heart. However, repressed experiences aside, I think a strong case can be made for why men (actually, leaders in general) should not cry…

Leaders serve as models for others, and as such they must set an example. It is easy to tell who is committed when the battle is on and the tensions are running high, but when all is said and done, it is up to the leaders to maintain their composure. Indeed, one is not leading in a positive direction if they are emitting a sense of despair, which is essentially what crying is all about. Of course, the Japanese view on this is that the emotional low will make everyone fight that much harder next time, but even does not hold credence for me: a winning mentality should be maintained at all times. There should be no doubts in one’s ability, and allowing one’s self to slip into despair is a slippery slope…

Later in the afternoon I visited TSUTAYA (the Japanese equivalent of Blockbuster) to rent the two-part Japanese movie “Always三丁目の夕日” (Always SANCHOME NO YUHI), which is a prototypical Japanese film set in 1950s Tokyo. I watched this over dinner with Kumagai-san, although the 133 minute movie proved to be a real test for my bladder. This was the first Japanese-made movie I have ever watched, and if this standard is anything to go by I have been opened to a terrific genre. However, one word of caution: Japanese movies are very “wet,” in the sense that they are emotionally involved: the plot is less important than the minor day-to-day things that occur in one’s life.

I will watch Part II of the movie tomorrow night.

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Next month