Since leaving America August 2006, I have traveled to sixteen countries. A great deal has happened. This site is to share my thoughts, photos, music, writings, travel experiences, and developing political/social commentary with you. I hope you find it interesting and informative.
Showing posts with label Live From Japan!. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Live From Japan!. Show all posts
It seems like here in Japan we're always having some holiday or festival. There sure is a lot going on to keep the smiles fresh and the video cameras rolling.
I've written before -- in fact feature it in LIVE FROM JAPAN! -- about the festival we just had this past weekend. This year, it was slightly scaled down from what has been held in the past, presumably because of Covid-19. We don't really have much of a crisis over the dread bioweapon but Japan plays on the side of cautious.
We spent most of our time on what's nicknamed "Merchant Street", a narrow and extremely charming roadway which looks the way it did a century ago, especially since the city last summer buried all of the electrical and communication cabling underground. Wheeled portable shrines (as opposed to ones carried by twenty to thirty inebriated celebrants) paraded up and down the street. In the carriage on top, children played flutes, chimes and various rhythm instruments. Since the vehicles have no steering mechanism -- true to a design that must go back a few centuries -- they have to be elevated and rotated by hand to change direction.
Rather than try to describe this unorthodox procedure, it'll be much easier to just show you.
After rolling up and down Merchant Street, the seven or eight wheeled shrines then headed toward the center of town, where they similarly paraded the greater length of our main street. People were in town from all over, both for the festival and to buy soybeans, an item Tambasasayama is famous across Japan for.
One final aside. Because the main street in town still has electrical wires criss-crossing its entire length, there is a tall crown which must be removed from the portable shrines. They are called 'hoko' and are displayed in storefronts along the way. They look like the one pictured here.
Yes, here we have another example of hard-core law enforcement here in my hometown.
Pictured is a local police officer and his wife. They’ve taken it upon themselves to make an Amabie doll for their Koban — their local community police station — and extend an open invitation to everyone in the neighborhood to stop by.
While much of the world appears to be reeling from Covid-19, with piles of bodies filling the streets and morgues in cities across the globe, life is pretty normal here. We do have a declared “state of emergency”, meaning some events have been canceled, a few restaurants are closed. But honestly, other than not being able to travel internationally, my life is quite normal. Deaths in Japan are not up from previous years. In fact, overall they are down!
What’s Japan’s secret?
Well, I’m not a medical expert nor am I here to give medical advice and risk the wrath of the WHO, Facebook, Dr. Anthony Fauci, and the CDC. If I get censored, the six people who normally would read this article won’t see it. That would be a tragedy of epic proportions. So I’m just reporting what’s happening here on the ground.
From Wikipedia: “Amabie (アマビエ) is a legendary Japanese mermaid or merman with a bird-beak like mouth and three legs or tail-fins, who allegedly emerges from the sea, prophesies either an abundant harvest or an epidemic, and instructed people to make copies of its likeness to defend against illness.”
You caught that last sentence?
“To defend against illness.”
Fact: We’ve had few people sick with Covid-19 here in Tambasasayama and no deaths!
You can’t argue with results. AMABIE!
While people in the U.S. are arguing about the effectiveness of Hydroxychloroquine and Ivermectin, ramping up to get everyone vaccinated — including now even kids — we have here a police officer making available to those visiting his Koban, a handmade doll based on a mythical mermaid, because legend has it that Amabie is the key to staying healthy.
But wait . . . what has this got to do with police work?
The short answer is nothing. But frankly, he’s not exactly busy. A crime wave here is a person parking their motorbike on the sidewalk. Even that doesn’t happen very often.
Being a news junkie of sorts and a U.S. citizen, I try to keep up with what’s going on in the homeland. I can’t say it’s encouraging or inspiring. Putting aside the circus/nightmare of the politics there; the appalling health care crisis exacerbated by the complete failure in properly handling Covid-19; the censorship and childish level of what is tolerated, even lauded, as debate and discussion of important issues; America’s compulsive meddling in the affairs of everyone else on Earth, while the U.S. itself falls apart; there’s the frightening rise of what can only be called a police state. Thus when I scan the headlines, I’m treated to a seemingly endless parade of stories about police harassing, beating, and shooting people, everyday citizens many unarmed, most of them with skin of the darker shades. It’s truly sickening and though I’m not one to easily succumb to paranoia, I can honestly say I have no desire to return in the foreseeable future just to see how good I am at dodging bullets or how well I handle pepper spray, zip ties, or being assaulted by thugs in or out of uniform.
It’s hard to exaggerate the contrast of what looks like the horror show of police brutality in the U.S. with what life is like here. But I’ve tried to capture it in a few stories. I wrote Police Power III back in March of this year.
Police Power I and Police Power II are part of my collection of 63 anecdotes about life in the REAL JAPAN for me as an expat. It’s getting fantastic reviews and I believe it will put a lot of smiles out into the world, as well as valuable insights into this fascinating country. Available across the globe for the asking, you are welcome to visit the dedicated page on my author website and get a copy from the online bookstore of your choice.
An interesting side note to close on: There are quite a few Koban here in town. By sheer coincidence, the Koban featured in the article pictured at the top happens to be one that I wrote about in my book. It’s right in front of the yurt where I used to teach English. Here’s what this police officer’s office/home looks like front and back.
That’s about it. Not very exciting, eh? But I’ll keep you posted if there are any shoot-outs, gang battles, drive-by killings, riots, or if some hardened criminal parks his motor scooter on the sidewalk.
I know it looks like I’ve already been hitting the sake, but I hadn’t opened it yet. It’s just that I’m very old.
I’ve written before about the uniquely wonderful national holidays Japan celebrates. It’s also talked about in my book LIVE FROM JAPAN!
This past Monday was 敬老の日, Keirō no Hi, Respect for the Aged Day here, my wife had the day off from teaching, and we had a barbecue celebration with her mother (definitely an aged person) and her older daughters. It was a splendid little party in the pergola I built a couple years ago.
Just before our festivities got fully rolling, I got a visit from one of my neighbors. The word had reached the highest government institutions. John Rachel turned 75 this summer, making me an official member of the “aged”. Not to diminish the prestige or importance of reaching this chronological benchmark, it’s not really a very exclusive club. People live very long lives here, and Japan this year recorded more people age 100 or above than ever in its history.
In any case, my neighbor brought with him gifts, those in the photo at the top.
The box of treats, including crackers and tea, was from the greater Tambasasayama area community. The bottle of expensive sake was from the mayor! He even wrote a letter of congratulations.
I suspect that this lovely gift-giving gesture was probably just a practice of my home town and other similar ones, modest size cities with more cohesion and sociability, and not the norm in the big cities.
But what a great touch on top of having a whole national holiday dedicated to us old folks!
And what a great way to make an “outsider” like me feel welcome in this charming and always amazing country, full of heart and adventure.
Finally, I have to draw attention to one of the treats.
My wife, Masumi, says these are really yummy!
Here is the rough translation of the messages on the package.
Life begins at 70.
When the angel comes for you at 70, tell him you’re not home.
When the angel comes for you at 80, tell him it’s too early.
When the angel comes for you at 90, tell him you’re not in a hurry.
When the angel comes for you at 100, tell him when the time comes you’ll be there.
Hmm. I assume the angel(s) speak Japanese. I think I better get cracking and make sure I’m up to speed with my command of the language!
Lots of buildings, cement, gaudy lights, flat-panel displays, high-tech dazzle.
The truth is that 70% of Japan is covered with forests.
As I describe in my book LIVE FROM JAPAN! and make vividly apparent with over 450 photos, my Japan is beautiful green fields of rice, soybeans, and many other vegetables, flowering and fruit trees, domesticated and occasional wild animals — monkeys, foxes, ferrets, raccoons, wild boar, even bears — countless varieties of birds.
But proof positive from my camping trip last week, after living here for almost 13 years, I still haven’t seen it all. Every time I venture into a new area of this relatively small country, I’m astonished by some side of Japan I couldn’t have imagined.
My wife and I just spent three days in the “Japanese Alps” — Kamikochi — a mountainous region in Nagano Prefecture. We hiked, checked out the scenery, breathed the refreshing clean mountain air, viewed the deep blue of a sky that is only rivaled by perhaps the Swiss Alps or the rich azure we experienced in Leh, Ladakh (northern India) some years back.
Words completely fail to capture the beauty of Kamikochi. So feast your eyes on some pics!
There’s a whole chapter in my book, LIVE FROM JAPAN!, devoted to Japan’s highway service areas. For anyone who hasn’t seen it, these are the equivalent to what we in the U.S. call ‘rest areas’. They provide a place during a long drive on a highway to pull off the road, stop, stretch your legs, go to the restroom, and for those which have the facilities, to buy some snacks and refreshments.
While functionally they are the same, Japan takes this convenience to a whole different level. Many highway service areas here are mini-malls! I have examples in my book of some typical ones to illustrate how elaborate and well-equipped they usually are.
Having said that, this past weekend my wife and I stopped at one on our way to camping in the Japanese Alps, which was really over the top!
Of course, it had the usual amenities: a restaurant, food court, fast food and ice cream stands, a souvenir shop, vending machines, beautiful clean restrooms.
However, on the inside court it was a spectacularly different story. Inside there was a small but adequate water playground!
This was not a paid admissions theme park. It was free and provided fountains and pools for the whole family to splash around and enjoy. Since this entire summer has been a real scorcher, I can’t overstate how welcome this surprise feature was for everyone stopping by this aptly named ‘highway oasis’.
What can I say? Japan goes out of its way to make life a pleasant adventure for everyone. Too bad this highway service area is not next to my house. Or I could be splashing around in the fountains every day to keep cool!
I can’t believe Tom Cruise didn’t put me in his movie!
Have you seen the James Bond film You Only Live Twice? At one point 007 was being given ninja training and those particular scenes were filmed at one of the most famous castles in Japan, Himeji Castle. It’s also known as the ‘White Egret Castle’ because its intensely white walls and majestic architecture apparently makes many folks think of a huge bird taking flight.
More recently, Himeji is associated with the Tom Cruise movie The Last Samurai, but that was actually shot at the nearby Engyoji Temple and Daikodo, a mountain village once used for training of priests.
In any event, the castle is almost seven centuries old, dating back to 1333 CE. I won’t begin to attempt summarizing its long, glorious history. I will, however, offer a few interesting facts and highlights.
Himeji Castle is the largest castle in Japan, its architecture is prototypical of all such castles, it is made of stone and wood, has extensive fortifications dating to Japan’s feudal times. From Wikipedia: “The castle complex comprises a network of 83 buildings such as storehouses, gates, corridors, and turrets (櫓, yagara). Of these 83 buildings, 74 are designated as Important Cultural Assets: 11 corridors, 16 turrets, 15 gates, and 32 earthen walls.” Registered December 1993, Himeji Castle was one of the first locations designated as a UNESCO World Heritage Site in Japan.
It has been remodeled and rebuilt a number of times. Significantly, however, it survived the massive firebombing campaign of WWII, which leveled the entire surrounding town. A firebomb actually landed on the top floor but failed to detonate. It also survived the Great Hanshin Earthquake — aka Kobe Earthquake — of 1995. Himeji is only 50 km (31 miles) west of Kobe.
Though it’s only about a 1 1/2 hour drive from my home here to Himeji, I’ve only visited the castle twice. It’s spectacular and deserves greater attention, for sure. Here are a few photos I took my first visit, then more recently when a friend from the Netherlands visited.
There’s a restroom I never noticed before behind this museum, the Aoyama Family Heritage Center.
Folks here in Japan will wonder about my obsession with public restrooms. They might suspect I had a traumatic potty training and it turned me into a toilet freak.
I plead innocent! Please understand, I just really appreciate the fact that having to take care of something so natural and normal is SO EASY here in Japan. Trust me when I say this — and my American readers will know exactly what I’m talking about — it’s not at all like that in the land of the stars-and-stripes. Half the time, if you can even find a restroom there, you have to buy something or sit down for a meal. A sign you’ll see way too often there reads . . .
Anyway, this particular article is not more evidence I’m in need of serious psychotherapy and/or multiple end-to-end Vipassana retreats in India. It’s merely an update to one of the chapters in my book, LIVE FROM JAPAN! Not surprisingly, that chapter is called ‘Public Restrooms’ and appears in the print version of the book on pages 108-109.
To get to the point, I found TWO MORE public restrooms right downtown, in addition to the eight I identified before.
And here is a map of our downtown area, including the businesses that serve both the local population and the tens of thousands of tourists who come here to enjoy the sights, feast on wild boar, buy soybeans, or participate in the festivals we host. This map will show you the availability of clean, well-maintained, publicly-accessible facilities for you-know-what.
I certainly am not suggesting that next time you hear nature’s call that you think: “Golly, I should go to Tambasasayama!” I’m not saying this is some main attraction. Frankly, this is not at all unusual anywhere in Japan. What it means is that if you come to town, this is not something you’ll even have to think about. Those of you in the U.S. who’ve tried to sneak by a concierge at a hotel or a maitre d’ at a restaurant, those of you who’ve surreptitiously gone around the back of a filling station and then found the rest room door locked, those of you driven by such desperation that you’ve slipped into an alley and secreted yourself behind a dumpster to seek relief, will appreciate how humane and decent it is that Japan takes such good care of people. It’s just one small way that this country shows its big heart.
‘My Pergola’ is not to be confused with My Sharona, a 1979 song by The Knack.
According to Wikipedia: “A pergola is an outdoor garden feature forming a shaded walkway, passageway, or sitting area of vertical posts or pillars that usually support cross-beams and a sturdy open lattice, often upon which woodyvines are trained.”
This is a story which will not make it into my epic new book, Live From Japan!, officially coming out Valentine’s Day 2021.
I’m merely posting here to “blow my own horn”, which according to the online Free Dictionary means: “To boast or brag about one’s own abilities, skills, success, achievements, etc.” I think that sums it up pretty well.
Last summer, I spent four weeks putting together a structure which provides in our very modest yard a pleasant place to relax, have fun, read a book, drink tea, eat lunch or barbecue.
Why did it take four weeks? Not making excuses, I improvised this the whole way. I had no blueprints, never even stopped to make any drawings myself . . . just made it up as I went.
This was actually fun! Seeing what I was imagining in my head gradually materialize was a real hoot. The downside was my having to make probably 40 or 50 trips to our three local home supply center/hardware stores — many on my bicycle — as I discovered along the way I needed some new bracket, set of screws, bolts, braces, tool, etc.
Since all the wood I bought was raw lumber, probably the most tedious chore was applying two coats of weatherproofing stain to every surface before assembling this monster. I call it a monster, because just the floor — as pictured at the beginning of this article — weighed in at 104 kg (229 lbs) and I had to get a muscular friend to help me move it to the spot in the garden where I would assemble the pergola, piece by piece.
Anyway, here’s what it looks like. Now we just have to see if it survives winter and typhoon season. Stay tuned!
The sub-title of my newest book begins “Anecdotes on the People and Culture of Contemporary Japan …”
Here are a few anecdotes which will give you phenomenal insights into the remarkably high ethical standards and general character of the Japanese people.
• • •
A friend of mine, originally from New Zealand but who lives in Japan, left her latest model Macbook Pro in a train station ladies room. For two hours! She had left it on the counter while she washed her hands and forgetfully walked out without it. By the way, this was one of the busiest hubs in Japan, the Umeda JR Station in Osaka. That restroom has hundreds of people going through it every hour. She got quite a ways along on her trip back here to Sasayama, remembered, jumped off, and immediately got on a train back to Osaka. She found her laptop right where she left it. Yes … two hours later!
• • •
Every year in October, we have here in Sasayama the Festival of the Portable Shrines. It’s one of my favorites!
A gentleman arrived here from Kobe, which is about an hour away. He came to purchase black beans, an item my home town is famous for, but when the moment came to pay, he discovered his wallet was missing.
There are no pickpockets around here, so obviously he had dropped his wallet somewhere in town.
He went to the nearest Koban. There are several here in Sasayama, as there are all over Japan. A Koban is a mini-police station. In Japan, it’s considered an integral part of a functioning community. The Koban is to make sure there are friendly cops in the neighborhood to address problems which come up in the local area, situations just like this.
The policeman on duty took a report, then got on the phone. He called all the other Kobans in the immediate area, anywhere close to where the gentleman had parked his car, before walking into the main part of town for the festivities.
He passed along the man’s name and a description of the wallet. Now get this …
While the officer was on the phone with another Koban, someone walked in with the wallet and handed it to the policeman on duty there.
The gentleman from Kobe then walked the short distance to the other Koban, and retrieved his wallet. The contents — credit cards, ID, cash — were intact. Not a single item had been taken.
• • •
One Sunday many months ago, we went to, Rurikei, our favorite local onsen. This is one of the great joys of living here in Japan and we try to go often (see next section).
Anyway, I left my hair brush in the mens locker room. This was not a family heirloom. This was an 89 cent piece of plastic, dirty and full of my hair from use over many months. The only thing it had going for it was that it was a pleasant shade of lavender.
Five weeks later, we returned to the hot springs. On some impulse — my synapses tend to fire randomly at times — I asked at the counter if they had a purple hair brush in their lost-and-found box. Stupid me. I was thinking they had a cardboard box behind the desk. The clerk asked when I thought I had lost it. That was easy. Maybe four or five weeks ago? He stepped into the facility’s main office, consulted with someone, then returned with my 89-cent hair brush, safely contained in a sealed plastic bag with a label. On the label was the date I left it in the locker room.
• • •
Masumi reminded me of this story, one I had forgotten. One day we went to Japan Post to mail a package to the U.S. — I think it was one of my novels, sent off for a review. Shortly after we returned, the phone rang. It was the clerk who had waited on me at the post office. She first apologized. She had made a mistake and overcharged me. She was so sorry this happened! It was an honest mistake and would be happy to refund the money. How much was it? 10 yen. Unbelievable! Do you know how much 10 yen is at current exchange rates? 9.44 cents!
What did I do? I did what any red-blooded American would do in the face of such incompetence! I went to the post office with my AR-15 and shot the place up. I didn’t kill anyone, though obviously I could hardly be blamed if I had. But when I got done, the place looked like one of the Twin Towers on September 12!
Okay. Obviously, I made that up. The truth was, I was speechless. 10 yen? After I stopped laughing — pleasant, joyful laughing — I had Masumi tell the clerk all was forgiven and she could keep the 10 yen. I think you can probably buy a lollipop somewhere for 10 yen.
• • •
I could go on and on. For example, in the news several months ago, there was the story of a person who had found a satchel on a park bench with over 5 million yen (that’s $50,000 cash) and no identification of any kind in or on the bag. It was promptly turned into the police.
I’m not going to moralize. Draw your own conclusions.
But by seeing such extreme honesty here, I see what has happened to my own country. I’m not pointing fingers. I see it in my own thinking. It’s been quite an adjustment for me. After all, I grew up in a tug-of-war between what I was taught at home, school and church, and real world a prioris: ‘Finders keepers losers weepers.’ ‘It’s every man for himself.’ ‘If I don’t take it someone else will.’
As a kid, often it wasn’t a question of right or wrong, but a question of whether we’d get caught.
I will say that dishonesty, regardless of how minor or seemingly insignificant, is a slippery slope. The Japanese have chosen to avoid taking even the first step.
I openly admit, it’s resulted in a huge paradigm shift for me. It’s required an enormous adjustment. But an extremely rewarding one. Just imagine … being able to trust other people. What a concept!
Understand: This extreme level of honesty and respect for the property of others I’m describing here is not an anomaly. It’s the norm. And it’s nothing new.
My American friend, Scott Burley, recently emailed me about his brief but rewarding experiences visiting Japan. He included this story:
My girlfriend who I met sophomore year … went on a student exchange program to Tokyo for her junior year and went to school over there. She was 1/2 Japanese and 1/2 Czech and her parents were both Japanese — her mother must have married a Czech before her step father. So around Christmas I flew to Tokyo when she had Christmas break and we spent three weeks traveling by train … my girlfriend left her purse at a bus stop. I went back to look for it and it was gone. After we got back to Tokyo, one day her purse arrived in the mail. Only in Japan!
That was back in 1973. Some things don’t change here.
I’ve written before about the uniquely wonderful national holidays Japan celebrates. It’s also talked about in my book LIVE FROM JAPAN!
This past Monday was 敬老の日, Keirō no Hi, Respect for the Aged Day here, my wife had the day off from teaching, and we had a barbecue celebration with her mother (definitely an aged person) and her older daughters. It was a splendid little party in the pergola I built a couple years ago.
Just before our festivities got fully rolling, I got a visit from one of my neighbors. The word had reached the highest government institutions. John Rachel turned 75 this summer, making me an official member of the “aged”. Not to diminish the prestige or importance of reaching this chronological benchmark, it’s not really a very exclusive club. People live very long lives here, and Japan this year recorded more people age 100 or above than ever in its history.
In any case, my neighbor brought with him gifts, those in the photo at the top.
The box of treats, including crackers and tea, was from the greater Tambasasayama area community. The bottle of expensive sake was from the mayor! He even wrote a letter of congratulations.
I suspect that this lovely gift-giving gesture was probably just a practice of my home town and other similar ones, modest size cities with more cohesion and sociability, and not the norm in the big cities.
But what a great touch on top of having a whole national holiday dedicated to us old folks!
And what a great way to make an “outsider” like me feel welcome in this charming and always amazing country, full of heart and adventure.
Finally, I have to draw attention to one of the treats.
Here is the rough translation of the messages on the package.
Life begins at 70.
When the angel comes for you at 70, tell him you’re not home.
When the angel comes for you at 80, tell him it’s too early.
When the angel comes for you at 90, tell him you’re not in a hurry.
When the angel comes for you at 100, tell him when the time comes you’ll be there.
Hmm. I assume the angel(s) speak Japanese. I think I better get cracking and make sure I’m up to speed with my command of the language!