I don't understand what the point of tempura soba is.
You have a nice warming bowl of noodle soup, and some delicious, crispy, freshly-cooked tempura.
Then you ruin the tempura by serving it in the soup bowl, rendering it soggy and unappealing. Your soup is soon clogged up with large chunks of sodden batter.
No sir, I don't understand it.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Looking forward to the Big Opening!!
For the last few months, the lower floors of Kawasaki BE have been closed for renovation. (Kawasaki BE is the large department store directly connected to Kawasaki train station.)
This was pretty annoying because they had the closest ATM for my bank, and I also heard they had a shoe repair shop. (I've been waiting months for the store to come back, because I haven't had the gumption to go find another place that does repairs.) And they had a good food court for buying bento, a large pharmacy, a flower shop where we used to be able to buy gifts, and various other things I missed having ready access to.
The reopening was slated for November. It feels like forever - it's been around 6 months - but it's now imminent. And for the first time, this week we've been able to see over the scaffolding to see which stores might be in the new BE.
Surprise 1 - a Starbucks. Now, I *love* Starbucks, but this is bordering on the ridiculous. There are already four Starbucks within 5 minutes' walk from Kawasaki station. It must be one of the highest concentrations of Starbucks in Japan.
Surprise 2 - a KRISPY KREME. These are rare. I've only seen one in Japan, and it was very busy. In their Shinjuku store, Krispy Kreme was kind of famous for attracting ludicrously long queues of people. As far as I know, there are only seven Krispy Kreme stores in all of Japan
Now I am about to walk past one every day right here in Kawasaki! ^_^
Ureshii! (Happy!)
This was pretty annoying because they had the closest ATM for my bank, and I also heard they had a shoe repair shop. (I've been waiting months for the store to come back, because I haven't had the gumption to go find another place that does repairs.) And they had a good food court for buying bento, a large pharmacy, a flower shop where we used to be able to buy gifts, and various other things I missed having ready access to.
The reopening was slated for November. It feels like forever - it's been around 6 months - but it's now imminent. And for the first time, this week we've been able to see over the scaffolding to see which stores might be in the new BE.
Surprise 1 - a Starbucks. Now, I *love* Starbucks, but this is bordering on the ridiculous. There are already four Starbucks within 5 minutes' walk from Kawasaki station. It must be one of the highest concentrations of Starbucks in Japan.
Surprise 2 - a KRISPY KREME. These are rare. I've only seen one in Japan, and it was very busy. In their Shinjuku store, Krispy Kreme was kind of famous for attracting ludicrously long queues of people. As far as I know, there are only seven Krispy Kreme stores in all of Japan
Now I am about to walk past one every day right here in Kawasaki! ^_^
Ureshii! (Happy!)
Monday, October 27, 2008
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Nobody Sleeps Like The Japanese Do
I found this group on Facebook: Nobody Sleeps Like The Japanese Do.
Scroll down and take a look at some of these photos.
They are an entirely unremarkable sight in this country.
Scroll down and take a look at some of these photos.
They are an entirely unremarkable sight in this country.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Health check
In this country I see or experience numerous weird things. Most of them are tiny, inane things I immediately forget about, but I really should write in brief about our compulsory health check.
Now, if you work for a Japanese company you have to get a health check once a year. In some companies, these checks are quite intimidating (I had a student who gave up eating ramen for two weeks before his health check, and ran 10km on the morning of the check, and still failed...), including physical components, running and so on. I heard of cases where people were declared overweight and put on probation, and had to prove themselves healthier by the next check.
Fortunately, ours was nowhere near as scary. The day before the check, we were given a small plastic vial and a sheet of paper that could be folded into a box. The idea was to pee into the box and then 'pipette' the liquid out of the box into the vial. My manager showed me how the paper could be folded into a box. I was dumbfounded. Apparently, elementary school children do this once every year. I asked her what the test was for. She didn't know.
...
The clincher was when we got to the health check itself. Our building has its own in-house doctor and check-up room for the benefit of staff. When I say 'check-up room' I mean just a random carpeted room, next to a meeting room, with a series of people sitting at desks.
First we presented our vials. With a certain lack of ceremony, the lady took them and emptied them, one by one, into a cup, over a strip of paper. We assumed it might have been some kind of pH test. What I couldn't get over was that about twenty people's combined pee was sitting in a styrofoam cup on the desk. We later saw her walking nonchalantly down the corridor, cup in hand, to go empty it out.
The next test was eyes. I had to look through a microscope and say whether various circles were pointing ue, shita, hidari or migi (forward, back, left or right). The problem is my spatial awareness is dreadful and I always confuse left and right even in English. So I kept saying 'migi' where I meant 'hidari'. I think the guy knew I was getting the words wrong. But who cares. I think I still did better than Pete.
Doctor: Which way is number 6 facing?
Pete (not understanding a word): I can see all of them. No problem!
There were a couple of other tests, including an optional blood test. I learned that one of my co-workers actually likes blood tests. I don't just mean tolerate. I mean like. Weird. Anyway, then it was down to the x-ray department.
I use the word 'department' very loosely indeed. We followed signs around the labyrinth of our building's 'staff only' area, finally ending up in the loading and unloading bay. There were trucks and forklifts loading and unloading merchandise. We passed loads of umbrellas hanging ready to be taken to a retail store, and large, dirty piles of crates.
'Atta! (there it is!)' exclaimed one of my co-workers. Sure enough, there was a van in the car park with a collection of slippers on the ground outside it.
So I had my x-ray in a beat-up old van. The doctor gave me various instructions which I couldn't understand a word of; he had to move me into position, with my chin up, resting on a plate, and my arms and shoulders pressed against the block. He said only one English word, nice and clearly, 'embrace'. Slightly bewildered, I raised my arms and 'hugged' the block. The doctor had a strange look on his face, but he didn't correct me, so my x-ray was taken.
Afterwards, I mentioned this to Pete, who had gone in first. He said 'oh yeah! I did exactly the same thing! Then he said it again and I realised he was telling me 'deep breath'!'
That doctor will definitely be questioning his pronunciation after two people tried to hug the x-ray machine after being told to take a deep breath.
If the x-ray tells me I have some kind of hideous deformity, I'll know it's because I didn't breathe in.
And for the record, I have a clean bill of health. ^_^
Now, if you work for a Japanese company you have to get a health check once a year. In some companies, these checks are quite intimidating (I had a student who gave up eating ramen for two weeks before his health check, and ran 10km on the morning of the check, and still failed...), including physical components, running and so on. I heard of cases where people were declared overweight and put on probation, and had to prove themselves healthier by the next check.
Fortunately, ours was nowhere near as scary. The day before the check, we were given a small plastic vial and a sheet of paper that could be folded into a box. The idea was to pee into the box and then 'pipette' the liquid out of the box into the vial. My manager showed me how the paper could be folded into a box. I was dumbfounded. Apparently, elementary school children do this once every year. I asked her what the test was for. She didn't know.
...
The clincher was when we got to the health check itself. Our building has its own in-house doctor and check-up room for the benefit of staff. When I say 'check-up room' I mean just a random carpeted room, next to a meeting room, with a series of people sitting at desks.
First we presented our vials. With a certain lack of ceremony, the lady took them and emptied them, one by one, into a cup, over a strip of paper. We assumed it might have been some kind of pH test. What I couldn't get over was that about twenty people's combined pee was sitting in a styrofoam cup on the desk. We later saw her walking nonchalantly down the corridor, cup in hand, to go empty it out.
The next test was eyes. I had to look through a microscope and say whether various circles were pointing ue, shita, hidari or migi (forward, back, left or right). The problem is my spatial awareness is dreadful and I always confuse left and right even in English. So I kept saying 'migi' where I meant 'hidari'. I think the guy knew I was getting the words wrong. But who cares. I think I still did better than Pete.
Doctor: Which way is number 6 facing?
Pete (not understanding a word): I can see all of them. No problem!
There were a couple of other tests, including an optional blood test. I learned that one of my co-workers actually likes blood tests. I don't just mean tolerate. I mean like. Weird. Anyway, then it was down to the x-ray department.
I use the word 'department' very loosely indeed. We followed signs around the labyrinth of our building's 'staff only' area, finally ending up in the loading and unloading bay. There were trucks and forklifts loading and unloading merchandise. We passed loads of umbrellas hanging ready to be taken to a retail store, and large, dirty piles of crates.
'Atta! (there it is!)' exclaimed one of my co-workers. Sure enough, there was a van in the car park with a collection of slippers on the ground outside it.
So I had my x-ray in a beat-up old van. The doctor gave me various instructions which I couldn't understand a word of; he had to move me into position, with my chin up, resting on a plate, and my arms and shoulders pressed against the block. He said only one English word, nice and clearly, 'embrace'. Slightly bewildered, I raised my arms and 'hugged' the block. The doctor had a strange look on his face, but he didn't correct me, so my x-ray was taken.
Afterwards, I mentioned this to Pete, who had gone in first. He said 'oh yeah! I did exactly the same thing! Then he said it again and I realised he was telling me 'deep breath'!'
That doctor will definitely be questioning his pronunciation after two people tried to hug the x-ray machine after being told to take a deep breath.
If the x-ray tells me I have some kind of hideous deformity, I'll know it's because I didn't breathe in.
And for the record, I have a clean bill of health. ^_^
Monday, October 20, 2008
Flying high in the sky...
I went into Tokyo today and went to a new place, Takadanobaba (tell me that ain't a mouthful). This area is a neighbourhood of Shinjuku. As I also discovered, it is famous for being the place where Astro Boy was born. (In the story, apparently the character was created in a factory in Takadanobaba.)
As I got out the train I was distracted by the 'doors are closing' song, which sounded very familiar somehow. Every JR train station has a 'doors are closing' chime, which often varies from station to station.
Then, leaving the bookstore, I saw a big mural featuring Astro Boy - and other characters of Osamu Tezuka - which I didn't really pay attention to, since I was more occupied trying to find the nearest Starbucks. In retrospect, if I'd known why it was there, I would've paid more attention to it.
And yes, the 'doors are closing' song was the Astro Boy theme...
As I got out the train I was distracted by the 'doors are closing' song, which sounded very familiar somehow. Every JR train station has a 'doors are closing' chime, which often varies from station to station.
Then, leaving the bookstore, I saw a big mural featuring Astro Boy - and other characters of Osamu Tezuka - which I didn't really pay attention to, since I was more occupied trying to find the nearest Starbucks. In retrospect, if I'd known why it was there, I would've paid more attention to it.
And yes, the 'doors are closing' song was the Astro Boy theme...
Sunday, October 19, 2008
O-mikoshi after-party
You should read the post below this one first.
After the festival proper, we returned to the shrine. It was about 3:30 by now, a good six hours after arriving. And after a great deal of cleaning up, it was time for the after-party. This was to prove a very illuminating experience!!
The party was in the building on the shrine grounds, and loads of sushi and other foods were brought in and laid on tables. Everyone went in and sat down and got drinks, and so on. However, according to the etiquette of these things, nobody could start until everyone was there, everyone had a drink, and everyone had listened to eight or nine different speeches.
It was clear this was a significant community event, and there were lots of people giving speeches about how much money had been donated to the shrine, how everyone gave their best efforts, how each year was better than the year before, and how today we had guests even from overseas! In Australia, if people gave speeches they would usually wait until people had eaten, rather than while everyone is sitting, hungry, eyeing the food laid out in front of them.
But eventually we got the all-clear, and everyone commenced eating, drinking, and being merry. With, perhaps, an emphasis on the 'drinking' part. Pete and I were treated like honoured guests. Various important community figures came over to us and introduced themselves, or poured sake for us, or something. We met the local member of Parliament, as well as the custodian of the shrine. When they brought dishes of soup in, they made a beeline for me and gave me one first.
Pete and I only had a couple of drinks (it helps that I really dislike sake, and this was my third time drinking it that day; various people tried to pour us some, so I made sure to drink mine really slowly so I could legitimately decline, 'thanks, I already have some!').
Then the entertainment starts, and some older guys start playing traditional Japanese music. It's really, really great. The guys sitting at our table with us speak some English; I also get to practice lots of Japanese.
Suddenly, Pete and I are brought up to the front to give speeches. I am not especially nervous about giving a speech in front of 80 people. Mind you, I completely forget to introduce myself. I speak in Japanese. Everything I say is greeted with wild applause and cheering. I love Japanese people when they're drunk.
Pete gives his speech. He speaks in simple English. A fireman calls out, 'I LOVE YOU!!', immediately followed by 'I'M STRAIGHT!!' We both fall about laughing. I'm sure most of the audience have no idea why.
The traditional music resumes, and this time, some dancers wearing hilarious masks do some traditional Japanese dancing. Pete and I are invited to try. Even wearing a mask, I refuse to dance in front of 80 people, but Pete has no such qualms and cracks everyone up by doing disco and kung fu moves to the beat of taiko drums and Japanese bamboo flute...
After this, they haul up all the guys who carried the mikoshi for the first time (Pete is exempt). I don't fully understand this, but the guys have to introduce themselves, eat karaage (fried chicken), and then scull sake from the bottle. It starts to become surreal. The room is full of people in orange happi coats, cheering loudly. The guys on stage are sculling that sake at an alarming rate. We are concerned. They finish with a song and hastily devised dance routine.
The madness has not finished yet, however. Now a drinking game commences where someone goes to the front and has to scull from the bottle until it is taken away from them. Then they have to call someone else's name, and that person has to go up and do the same. Pete remarks that he has never seen adults drink like this; only college students. A lot of people are going red in the face. Half a bottle of sake is spilled.
I have heard that a lot of salarymen drink too much at parties with co-workers because of the social pressure to drink. Being able to drink a lot is a sign of manliness (I guess it's the same in most cultures...). After witnessing this party I can certainly understand that. If someone called your name at that party, with everyone cheering and calling out encouragement, it would be very hard to demur and say you don't drink. Pete says that every time he sees a drunk salaryman on the train now, he will imagine that he's been to a party like this one.
A guy starts to come to the front. I nudge Pete and tell him 'that's the local MP'. We both crack up because at the moment I say that, the guy is sashaying across the room, and proceeds to slug sake in front of dozens of drunken constituents...
Pete comments, truly, that he has 'never seen so much drinking with children present'. The children are in a kind of side room, and I don't see them at any point; I had assumed they had gone home, but after everything wraps up, they come out.
The evening finishes with more brief speeches, everyone standing and pretending to carry the mikoshi, and then doing a kind of conga line dance around the room, chanting 'seiya seiya'. Then the party is declared over, and with astonishing alacrity, the hitherto drunken carousers immediately start cleaning up the room, moving tables and running around with mops!
When we leave it's like we're leaving long-lost friends and we have to say goodbye several times to each person. You have never seen anything like the friendliness of Japanese people when they are in a group. Everyone tried to elicit promises from us to return next year, everyone asked us questions and welcomed us, everyone treated us with great kindness and really included us in the event. Despite the weirdness of the evening, there were so many really nice people in that neighbourhood. Even as we were leaving, people were pressing leftovers and drinks in our hands. I don't know if it's normal, or if we were treated special, but we didn't have to pay for anything the whole day.
So that was a very unique cultural experience for me, and one of my best days in Japan!
After the festival proper, we returned to the shrine. It was about 3:30 by now, a good six hours after arriving. And after a great deal of cleaning up, it was time for the after-party. This was to prove a very illuminating experience!!
The party was in the building on the shrine grounds, and loads of sushi and other foods were brought in and laid on tables. Everyone went in and sat down and got drinks, and so on. However, according to the etiquette of these things, nobody could start until everyone was there, everyone had a drink, and everyone had listened to eight or nine different speeches.
It was clear this was a significant community event, and there were lots of people giving speeches about how much money had been donated to the shrine, how everyone gave their best efforts, how each year was better than the year before, and how today we had guests even from overseas! In Australia, if people gave speeches they would usually wait until people had eaten, rather than while everyone is sitting, hungry, eyeing the food laid out in front of them.
But eventually we got the all-clear, and everyone commenced eating, drinking, and being merry. With, perhaps, an emphasis on the 'drinking' part. Pete and I were treated like honoured guests. Various important community figures came over to us and introduced themselves, or poured sake for us, or something. We met the local member of Parliament, as well as the custodian of the shrine. When they brought dishes of soup in, they made a beeline for me and gave me one first.
Pete and I only had a couple of drinks (it helps that I really dislike sake, and this was my third time drinking it that day; various people tried to pour us some, so I made sure to drink mine really slowly so I could legitimately decline, 'thanks, I already have some!').
Then the entertainment starts, and some older guys start playing traditional Japanese music. It's really, really great. The guys sitting at our table with us speak some English; I also get to practice lots of Japanese.
Suddenly, Pete and I are brought up to the front to give speeches. I am not especially nervous about giving a speech in front of 80 people. Mind you, I completely forget to introduce myself. I speak in Japanese. Everything I say is greeted with wild applause and cheering. I love Japanese people when they're drunk.
Pete gives his speech. He speaks in simple English. A fireman calls out, 'I LOVE YOU!!', immediately followed by 'I'M STRAIGHT!!' We both fall about laughing. I'm sure most of the audience have no idea why.
The traditional music resumes, and this time, some dancers wearing hilarious masks do some traditional Japanese dancing. Pete and I are invited to try. Even wearing a mask, I refuse to dance in front of 80 people, but Pete has no such qualms and cracks everyone up by doing disco and kung fu moves to the beat of taiko drums and Japanese bamboo flute...
After this, they haul up all the guys who carried the mikoshi for the first time (Pete is exempt). I don't fully understand this, but the guys have to introduce themselves, eat karaage (fried chicken), and then scull sake from the bottle. It starts to become surreal. The room is full of people in orange happi coats, cheering loudly. The guys on stage are sculling that sake at an alarming rate. We are concerned. They finish with a song and hastily devised dance routine.
The madness has not finished yet, however. Now a drinking game commences where someone goes to the front and has to scull from the bottle until it is taken away from them. Then they have to call someone else's name, and that person has to go up and do the same. Pete remarks that he has never seen adults drink like this; only college students. A lot of people are going red in the face. Half a bottle of sake is spilled.
I have heard that a lot of salarymen drink too much at parties with co-workers because of the social pressure to drink. Being able to drink a lot is a sign of manliness (I guess it's the same in most cultures...). After witnessing this party I can certainly understand that. If someone called your name at that party, with everyone cheering and calling out encouragement, it would be very hard to demur and say you don't drink. Pete says that every time he sees a drunk salaryman on the train now, he will imagine that he's been to a party like this one.
A guy starts to come to the front. I nudge Pete and tell him 'that's the local MP'. We both crack up because at the moment I say that, the guy is sashaying across the room, and proceeds to slug sake in front of dozens of drunken constituents...
Pete comments, truly, that he has 'never seen so much drinking with children present'. The children are in a kind of side room, and I don't see them at any point; I had assumed they had gone home, but after everything wraps up, they come out.
The evening finishes with more brief speeches, everyone standing and pretending to carry the mikoshi, and then doing a kind of conga line dance around the room, chanting 'seiya seiya'. Then the party is declared over, and with astonishing alacrity, the hitherto drunken carousers immediately start cleaning up the room, moving tables and running around with mops!
When we leave it's like we're leaving long-lost friends and we have to say goodbye several times to each person. You have never seen anything like the friendliness of Japanese people when they are in a group. Everyone tried to elicit promises from us to return next year, everyone asked us questions and welcomed us, everyone treated us with great kindness and really included us in the event. Despite the weirdness of the evening, there were so many really nice people in that neighbourhood. Even as we were leaving, people were pressing leftovers and drinks in our hands. I don't know if it's normal, or if we were treated special, but we didn't have to pay for anything the whole day.
So that was a very unique cultural experience for me, and one of my best days in Japan!
O-mikoshi
Last weekend Pete and I participated in a neighbourhood festival. Our co-worker Aya invited us. It's the neighbourhood she has lived in all her life, so she knows a lot of people there. It was nice feeling a real community feeling, with lots of neighbours greeting each other.
So we congregated at the neighbourhood shrine just after 9:30am, for the start of a long day! We met some of Aya's neighbours, who were understandably a little surprised to see two foreigners rock up at their local neighbourhood festival. Everyone was very friendly and greeted us kindly.
The focal point of a lot of festivals in Japan is carrying a 'mikoshi'. This is a team effort. A mikoshi is a portable shrine. It is quite large and apparently very, very heavy. The shrine is attached to several long beams of timber. Men (and sometimes women) carry the mikoshi all around the neighbourhood while chanting the rallying cry of 'wasshoi wasshoi' or 'seiya seiya'.
We all donned happi coats, and many people also wore hachimaki*, which are special headbands, tied to indicate seriousness of purpose. Like, 'yoooosh, we're gonna DO THIS THING!' The MC of the day gave an introductory speech, and we did this kind of clapping routine together, and everyone drank a small bowl of sake. Many of the women, including me, had bells tied around our ankles, to enhance the noise we made.
*(I had to look up that word and correct it. First, I wrote, 'many people also wore harumaki', which means 'many people also wore spring rolls', hahaha...)
If you look at Google images you can see some examples of mikoshi, and happi coats, hachimaki, etc.
Then, we all did a dance to start the festival. Many of the women had fans, and we did a kind of dance using the fans. I say 'we' did a dance but of course I am hopeless at dancing of all kinds and I privately resolved not to participate in (and thus ruin) the subsequent ones, hahaha...
Then, around 10:10, the mikoshi procession began. The idea was to carry the mikoshi all around the neighbourhood. The mikoshi is traditionally carried by men only, but these days women often take a turn. However, mostly, the women just took short turns, and the men bore the brunt of it. Pete was put at the back with the other taller guys. Apparently, carrying a mikoshi is rough on tall guys (as you can imagine, if several guys of different height are carrying something together, the taller guys have to stoop a bit, or bend their knees more).
Most of the women had a go at carrying it but I opted not to. This was not for lack of opportunities, at least a dozen different people invited me to take a turn, eager that I shouldn't miss out. But I'd decided ahead of time that I wouldn't carry it, since it is essentially a religious activity (although most Japanese people don't consider themselves religious; this is also a cultural activity), transporting the local god around the neighbourhood.
So instead of carrying the mikoshi I worked on cheering on those carrying it. And this also takes a lot of energy!
So, when people carry a mikoshi, they don't just simply carry it. They carry with a lot of energy and spirit. The carriers chant different things according to neighbourhood (our group went for 'seiya seiya'. It doesn't really have any meaning, it's just something people chant, for energy. You could imagine it means something like 'heave ho, heave ho'.) Also, they kind of walk with a dancing gait, bouncing the mikoshi up and down. This puts a lot of pressure on knees and shoulders.
The people walking with the mikoshi procession cheer on the people carrying it. So if you are cheering, you have to be LOUD, a lot louder than those carrying. We walked in front, behind, or alongside the mikoshi, waving fans, and occasionally taking turns with the BIG fan which could take a person out if you weren't careful with your aim! We could also go and fan the people's faces, since the sun was warm and they were sweating a LOT.
The processsion lasted perhaps an hour before we had a lunch break. We did have a 'made it down the first street' break where people drank alcohol (I've never drunk my second serve of alcohol at 10:30 am before...). Then a bit later, we met at a busy intersection in the neighbourhood, where three mikoshi converged and had a kind of 'mikoshi competition'. Here, we ate onigiri, met some of Aya's nice neighbours, and drank more alcohol (but small amounts of low strength, nobody was getting drunk). Pete and I got a chance to beat on this giant taiko drum in accordance with some guy's instructions ('okay, left! left again! now, left-right-left-right!).
After the lunch break, though, the procession resumed with a vengeance! We had quite a long route, with a lot of neighbourhood people turning out to watch as we went down the street, and passing lots of stores, a school, an old folk's home, etc. I think we went for over 90 minutes without a break. All the time, we had to maintain the same energy levels, and screamed and exhorted and fanned and gestured, while walking backwards in a kind of energetic way, the whole time.
However, our efforts were nothing compared to the guys carrying a hugely heavy mikoshi! Guys would switch out for short periods when the strain got too much, but most of them quickly returned to continue. Your performance and stoicism on the mikoshi is a sign of manly strength and vigour. At the end I saw some guys had blood on their shoulders. I later learned that many of these guys had done another mikoshi procession on the previous day!
Anyway eventually we reached our destination, and the mikoshi was loaded onto a truck to be driven back to the original shrine! Any time we stopped or started for a significant period of time, there'd be this routine of clapping, dancing, and drinking sake.
At the destination point there was the usual festival set-up, with lots of stalls selling various food. We had some. ^_^ At this spot was a women's mikoshi and a children's mikoshi. The guys had done well, and I learned the Japanese word 'kata' (shoulder), since at least ten different guys asked Pete if his shoulder hurt. There was a real sense of cameraderie after completing the physically demanding challenge together, especially among the guys.
So we congregated at the neighbourhood shrine just after 9:30am, for the start of a long day! We met some of Aya's neighbours, who were understandably a little surprised to see two foreigners rock up at their local neighbourhood festival. Everyone was very friendly and greeted us kindly.
The focal point of a lot of festivals in Japan is carrying a 'mikoshi'. This is a team effort. A mikoshi is a portable shrine. It is quite large and apparently very, very heavy. The shrine is attached to several long beams of timber. Men (and sometimes women) carry the mikoshi all around the neighbourhood while chanting the rallying cry of 'wasshoi wasshoi' or 'seiya seiya'.
We all donned happi coats, and many people also wore hachimaki*, which are special headbands, tied to indicate seriousness of purpose. Like, 'yoooosh, we're gonna DO THIS THING!' The MC of the day gave an introductory speech, and we did this kind of clapping routine together, and everyone drank a small bowl of sake. Many of the women, including me, had bells tied around our ankles, to enhance the noise we made.
*(I had to look up that word and correct it. First, I wrote, 'many people also wore harumaki', which means 'many people also wore spring rolls', hahaha...)
If you look at Google images you can see some examples of mikoshi, and happi coats, hachimaki, etc.
Then, we all did a dance to start the festival. Many of the women had fans, and we did a kind of dance using the fans. I say 'we' did a dance but of course I am hopeless at dancing of all kinds and I privately resolved not to participate in (and thus ruin) the subsequent ones, hahaha...
Then, around 10:10, the mikoshi procession began. The idea was to carry the mikoshi all around the neighbourhood. The mikoshi is traditionally carried by men only, but these days women often take a turn. However, mostly, the women just took short turns, and the men bore the brunt of it. Pete was put at the back with the other taller guys. Apparently, carrying a mikoshi is rough on tall guys (as you can imagine, if several guys of different height are carrying something together, the taller guys have to stoop a bit, or bend their knees more).
Most of the women had a go at carrying it but I opted not to. This was not for lack of opportunities, at least a dozen different people invited me to take a turn, eager that I shouldn't miss out. But I'd decided ahead of time that I wouldn't carry it, since it is essentially a religious activity (although most Japanese people don't consider themselves religious; this is also a cultural activity), transporting the local god around the neighbourhood.
So instead of carrying the mikoshi I worked on cheering on those carrying it. And this also takes a lot of energy!
So, when people carry a mikoshi, they don't just simply carry it. They carry with a lot of energy and spirit. The carriers chant different things according to neighbourhood (our group went for 'seiya seiya'. It doesn't really have any meaning, it's just something people chant, for energy. You could imagine it means something like 'heave ho, heave ho'.) Also, they kind of walk with a dancing gait, bouncing the mikoshi up and down. This puts a lot of pressure on knees and shoulders.
The people walking with the mikoshi procession cheer on the people carrying it. So if you are cheering, you have to be LOUD, a lot louder than those carrying. We walked in front, behind, or alongside the mikoshi, waving fans, and occasionally taking turns with the BIG fan which could take a person out if you weren't careful with your aim! We could also go and fan the people's faces, since the sun was warm and they were sweating a LOT.
The processsion lasted perhaps an hour before we had a lunch break. We did have a 'made it down the first street' break where people drank alcohol (I've never drunk my second serve of alcohol at 10:30 am before...). Then a bit later, we met at a busy intersection in the neighbourhood, where three mikoshi converged and had a kind of 'mikoshi competition'. Here, we ate onigiri, met some of Aya's nice neighbours, and drank more alcohol (but small amounts of low strength, nobody was getting drunk). Pete and I got a chance to beat on this giant taiko drum in accordance with some guy's instructions ('okay, left! left again! now, left-right-left-right!).
After the lunch break, though, the procession resumed with a vengeance! We had quite a long route, with a lot of neighbourhood people turning out to watch as we went down the street, and passing lots of stores, a school, an old folk's home, etc. I think we went for over 90 minutes without a break. All the time, we had to maintain the same energy levels, and screamed and exhorted and fanned and gestured, while walking backwards in a kind of energetic way, the whole time.
However, our efforts were nothing compared to the guys carrying a hugely heavy mikoshi! Guys would switch out for short periods when the strain got too much, but most of them quickly returned to continue. Your performance and stoicism on the mikoshi is a sign of manly strength and vigour. At the end I saw some guys had blood on their shoulders. I later learned that many of these guys had done another mikoshi procession on the previous day!
Anyway eventually we reached our destination, and the mikoshi was loaded onto a truck to be driven back to the original shrine! Any time we stopped or started for a significant period of time, there'd be this routine of clapping, dancing, and drinking sake.
At the destination point there was the usual festival set-up, with lots of stalls selling various food. We had some. ^_^ At this spot was a women's mikoshi and a children's mikoshi. The guys had done well, and I learned the Japanese word 'kata' (shoulder), since at least ten different guys asked Pete if his shoulder hurt. There was a real sense of cameraderie after completing the physically demanding challenge together, especially among the guys.
Monday, October 6, 2008
すてき！
いいですね！！
これから日本語でかけます！iMacがすきです！
でも友建わぜんぶ日本語がわかりません。。。ざんえんですね。。。
さいきんいろいろでやくにたつことをおぼえました。。。たとえば、open と close の漢字。。。そして、一年あとで「横浜」およめます。。。
Okay, enough of my mangled Japanese. If you don't have Japanese characters enabled, you can't read it anyway... but I am rejoicing in the fact that after (almost) a year here, I can finally read the words 'open' and 'closed'. It's funny, the process of very very slowly becoming literate. For ages, everything is completely impenetrable; then gradually, you start to see bits and pieces you know. After I learned the kanji for seasons, I started seeing them everywhere. Summer special. Summer party. Summer campaign. And now I can know if a shop is open or closed! ^_^
I can also, after a year of living here, finally recognise the name of the city in which I live, 'Yokohama'...
これから日本語でかけます！iMacがすきです！
でも友建わぜんぶ日本語がわかりません。。。ざんえんですね。。。
さいきんいろいろでやくにたつことをおぼえました。。。たとえば、open と close の漢字。。。そして、一年あとで「横浜」およめます。。。
Okay, enough of my mangled Japanese. If you don't have Japanese characters enabled, you can't read it anyway... but I am rejoicing in the fact that after (almost) a year here, I can finally read the words 'open' and 'closed'. It's funny, the process of very very slowly becoming literate. For ages, everything is completely impenetrable; then gradually, you start to see bits and pieces you know. After I learned the kanji for seasons, I started seeing them everywhere. Summer special. Summer party. Summer campaign. And now I can know if a shop is open or closed! ^_^
I can also, after a year of living here, finally recognise the name of the city in which I live, 'Yokohama'...
Sumo
[I updated a couple of recent posts (one about Stace and one about the onsen) to add pictures.]
About three weeks ago Pete and I went to Ryogoku Kokugikan to see the sumo. One of my favourite students organised it for us and brought his friend along. It was the second Sunday of the 15-day tournament; right in the middle of the event.
So in we went. The sumo hall itself is extremely cool. The ring is in the center; surrounded by sumo officials and a number of other people sitting down* directly around the ring. These ringside seats in turn are surrounded by sumo box seats; these are boxes with four cushions, which people can buy tickets for and sit with their friends and eat, drink, etc. The tier above the box seats are the arena seats, which are the cheapest seats, like stadium seats.
*(Ringside is not a good place to sit. Sure, you can see very well, and that's important for referees. But look at how small that ring is. Now, recall that the idea of sumo is to push your opponent out of the ring. We saw sumo wrestlers plow into the officials at least two or three times. And being crushed by a sumo is no joke!)
Matches start from around midday, but all the earlier events are for lower-ranked sumo and therefore not of as much interest. We arrived a little while before the late afternoon matches, when all the highest-ranked sumo compete. The basic rules of sumo are not difficult to understand. A sumo loses if he steps outside the ring, or touches the ground with any part of his body apart from his feet.
Here you can see the o-sumo-san (sumo wrestlers) doing their entering ritual. The top ranking sumo, or yokozuna, get their own entering ritual. There are currently two yokozuna, both from Mongolia.
In Ryogoku Kokugikan you could buy bento (lunch boxes) 'themed' for sumo wrestlers. I bought an Asashoryu bento. Asashoryu is the longer-standing of the two yokozuna. He's a bit contentious though and has been in the press for having an aggressive attitude. Also, people say his form is starting to slip. A yokozuna cannot lose their top ranking once they've earned it - it's very difficult to attain this ranking in the first place, and there have been times when there has been no yokozuna at all - but yokozuna are expected to relinquish their position, or retire, once their abilities decline.
The matches themselves are very short, usually only a few seconds, and each is preceded by a ring entering ritual where the sumo throw salt into the ring etc. The yokozuna were the last to perform. Hakuho, the first, won his match effortlessly in about one second. Asashoryu, the second, lost. This was greeted by much excitement, and everyone in the box seats stood up and threw their cushions in towards the ring. I threw mine too, but I wasn't a very good shot, and hit some guy in the head.
After the sumo, we went to a nearby chanko nabe restaurant. Chanko nabe is the food that sumo wrestlers consume in large amounts in order to gain weight.
And you can see why. I would like to stress that we ordered a serving for three people. Three people. There is also an additional plate of minced meat, which you can't see in this photo.
Nabe is basically hotpot, so you put all the random meat, seafood and vegetables into boiling water, take them out, dip them in sauce and eat them. Chanko nabe itself is actually fairly healthy, but it has a lot of protein, and just look at that serving size!! The four of us couldn't finish ours.
Sumo wrestlers traditionally eat two meals of chanko nabe a day, and sleep right after eating, to increase weight gain.
Anyway, going to the sumo was terrific fun. ^_^
About three weeks ago Pete and I went to Ryogoku Kokugikan to see the sumo. One of my favourite students organised it for us and brought his friend along. It was the second Sunday of the 15-day tournament; right in the middle of the event.
So in we went. The sumo hall itself is extremely cool. The ring is in the center; surrounded by sumo officials and a number of other people sitting down* directly around the ring. These ringside seats in turn are surrounded by sumo box seats; these are boxes with four cushions, which people can buy tickets for and sit with their friends and eat, drink, etc. The tier above the box seats are the arena seats, which are the cheapest seats, like stadium seats.
*(Ringside is not a good place to sit. Sure, you can see very well, and that's important for referees. But look at how small that ring is. Now, recall that the idea of sumo is to push your opponent out of the ring. We saw sumo wrestlers plow into the officials at least two or three times. And being crushed by a sumo is no joke!)
Matches start from around midday, but all the earlier events are for lower-ranked sumo and therefore not of as much interest. We arrived a little while before the late afternoon matches, when all the highest-ranked sumo compete. The basic rules of sumo are not difficult to understand. A sumo loses if he steps outside the ring, or touches the ground with any part of his body apart from his feet.
Here you can see the o-sumo-san (sumo wrestlers) doing their entering ritual. The top ranking sumo, or yokozuna, get their own entering ritual. There are currently two yokozuna, both from Mongolia.
In Ryogoku Kokugikan you could buy bento (lunch boxes) 'themed' for sumo wrestlers. I bought an Asashoryu bento. Asashoryu is the longer-standing of the two yokozuna. He's a bit contentious though and has been in the press for having an aggressive attitude. Also, people say his form is starting to slip. A yokozuna cannot lose their top ranking once they've earned it - it's very difficult to attain this ranking in the first place, and there have been times when there has been no yokozuna at all - but yokozuna are expected to relinquish their position, or retire, once their abilities decline.
The matches themselves are very short, usually only a few seconds, and each is preceded by a ring entering ritual where the sumo throw salt into the ring etc. The yokozuna were the last to perform. Hakuho, the first, won his match effortlessly in about one second. Asashoryu, the second, lost. This was greeted by much excitement, and everyone in the box seats stood up and threw their cushions in towards the ring. I threw mine too, but I wasn't a very good shot, and hit some guy in the head.
After the sumo, we went to a nearby chanko nabe restaurant. Chanko nabe is the food that sumo wrestlers consume in large amounts in order to gain weight.
And you can see why. I would like to stress that we ordered a serving for three people. Three people. There is also an additional plate of minced meat, which you can't see in this photo.
Nabe is basically hotpot, so you put all the random meat, seafood and vegetables into boiling water, take them out, dip them in sauce and eat them. Chanko nabe itself is actually fairly healthy, but it has a lot of protein, and just look at that serving size!! The four of us couldn't finish ours.
Sumo wrestlers traditionally eat two meals of chanko nabe a day, and sleep right after eating, to increase weight gain.
Anyway, going to the sumo was terrific fun. ^_^
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