Life In Japan: Monkeys

Meet some of my neighbors!

Yes, we have monkeys in Japan, right where I live.

There are an estimated 950 in Hyogo Prefecture -- a prefecture is the equivalent of a state and Japan has 47 total -- and 180 of the critters in Sasayama, Hyogo, my hometown.

Not that we see them that often.  But I have seen them.

Once on a bike ride very close to my house, I spotted one in a farmer's field, sitting in the midst of rows of beautiful, ripe vegetables, enjoying his own personal buffet. He was very mature, rather large, not a monkey I'd want to mess with.

Speaking of which, my step-daughter got into her car one morning, and a smaller but extremely upset macaque -- that's the variety we have here, pictured above -- jumped on her hood, issued all sorts of threatening gestures, screeches, and probably even monkey expletives, about some matter none of us have any clue about.  It might have been related to the presence in the house of my step-daughter's black labrador, as monkeys -- at least our local monkeys -- are fascinated with domesticated dogs. The incident ended without any damage to her car, the mirrors and windshield wipers still in place, with the monkey bounding off to its next soapbox to lodge complaints about whatever crises monkeys believe warrant their histrionic objections.
It's not as if we're not trying to coexist with our furry friends.  There's room for all.



There's a park in Kyoto -- the Iwayatama monkey park.  If you're ever in that city, I highly recommend it.  The park is a short walk across the Oi River from Arashiyama, a must-see district with many interesting temples, shrines, stores, a bamboo forest, the site for a number of wonderful festivals.  For about $100, you can get made up head-to-toe as a geisha, something I would love to do, even if it would understandably put my sexuality in serious question among my Western friends.  Here in Japan, they're not so hung up on such matters.  There are many celebrities, some of whom regularly appear on television, who are either transvestites or transexuals.



Anyway, getting back to the monkey park.  It's on top of a modest-size mountain.  The hike alone is worth it, up a splendid trail through the forest which covers the entire mountain until you reach the summit.  On top you'll find over 200 monkeys, hanging out, looking for food handouts -- you can buy appropriate nutritional items from the park station -- doing what monkeys on public display typically do.  You are cautioned to NEVER look them squarely in the eyes, as they take that as confrontation, a sign that you are threatening and are ready for battle.

I've taken this advice and extended it to all my human interactions, especially with anyone in the West.  I never look them in the eye.  If they're American, they probably are armed to the teeth and that would be the end of John Rachel.  No more monkey sightings or even my characteristic monkey business.

Banana anyone?



[ This originated at the author's personal webpage . . . http://jdrachel.com ]





Life In Japan: Monkeys

Life In Japan: Arthur the Celebrity Cat

As a novelist, satirist, essayist, political blogger, and someone who has not gotten beyond the I-want-my-oompa-loompa stage of human development, to say I crave attention is a vast understatement.

Of course I live in Japan, so while I continue my lifelong efforts to become a household name in America, I consider recognition here an important part of building my legend. Plus I've long been a believer that any press is good press, anywhere on the planet.

I can't say I'm making much headway.  I've tried countless ways to breach the media firewall that keeps me hidden from the Japanese public eye.  A while ago I tried burning down the largest wooden Buddha in Japan.  I couldn't get the damn thing lit.  Once I tried dressing up as a geisha.  All that happened was I got a lot of very strange looks and one comment from a young school boy in a baseball uniform -- その醜い女性を見てください。-- which my wife, Masumi, said basically translates as: "Look at that ugly woman."

I even entered an octopus eating contest and came in last!  But not before I started to hallucinate giant sea cucumbers dancing across the stage like an entire chorus line of Rockettes had turned into wart-infested pickles.

Yes, I've tried everything except running through the center of town dressed as a samurai, carrying a bamboo pole wrapped with flaming kelp leaves, while yelling, 'The Emperor has no oompa-loompa.'  I ruled that out when I found out he doesn't.

My most recent humiliation occurred the other day, early one morning. 

We still get a newspaper delivered to our house every day -- can you believe it? made of paper no less? -- which mentions one or two major news stories but mostly focuses on news from around our prefecture -- which is the equivalent of a state in the U.S.  Many human interest stories, local sports teams, city and school district events.

But . . .

There it was!  A brief mention to be sure, but no less humbling.

My cat upstaged me by getting in the news!

Now I love Arthur to pieces.  And I have no doubt he deserves any and all the great press he can get.  But let's be honest.  He didn't do a thing to deserve this.  He's just so cute, an old guy like me, regardless of how many books I write, web sites I put up, despite how funny I am, or "politically aware", how can I compete?  Let's be blunt:  I don't stand a canary's chance in a cat cafe.
O
kay.  Okay.  I sound like I'm bitter.  I'm not.  I'm so proud of Arthur!  If anything, I'm wondering why they didn't put him on the front page and do an exclusive feature story on the little guy, including an interview and a link to video footage of him being so darn cute!

At the same time . . .

That still leaves me in a quandary.  What do I have to do to get some press around here?  Dress up like an American soldier and fly an Osprey into the Tokyo Tower?


[ This originated at author's personal webpage . . . http://jdrachel.com ]




Life In Japan: Arthur the Celebrity Cat