Tokyo (free-form)

So, here begins the Tokyo saga. I will be honest and say I initially had no clue how to approach this properly. Tokyo was simply too big, with too much to see, too many experiences, all crammed into a teeny tiny space (about the size I felt when I realized just how tall the buildings in Tokyo actually are). My conclusion - how about a series of posts with more pictures than words and varying topics. This post will be about Tokyo in general, and another will be for Disney, etc. The first thing I saw was this wonderful group of tourists posing - what does their pose mean? No clue. But there actually were not that many tourists while I was in Tokyo.

The second thing I saw was this...massive amounts of people, and tall, glittering buildings with movie screens. If it doesn't glow in Tokyo, it doesn't make it. 

The second thing was crosswalks like this, where hundreds of people rushed across at once (this was actually a relatively quite crossing) in a rather helter-skelter manner. 

The third thing was Starbucks. Need I say more? Excuse my camera - it hiccuped. 

As all good tourists must, we then headed to Tokyo tower. This is the view, or what I could capture of it with my camera. Everything closes early here, including the tower (10) and all of its gift shops - they were closed before I could buy anything. 

The up-her-skirt picture of the tower lit up at night. 

From a distance, the tower after it closed. The lights turned to gold. 

This was how it looked before it closed. 

Ah, the view from on high, or at least, from my hotel room. 

There is a museum in Ueno that hosts western works. This is the door from Dante's Inferno, opening to He*l, for those who don't know. Anyway, from what I hear, it is actually a seasonal portal between Alaska and Japan - those who fall through from Japan in the height of summer will surely succumb to the Alaskan winter on the other side, while those who fall through from Alaska will burn through when they hit August in Tokyo...

This lovely stuffed Akita-inu is actually Hachiko, the tragic hero of Japan who went to the station every morning to await his master (who had passed away) until the dog also passed 15 years later. I get tears on my eyes just thinking about it. On another note, the attendant came specifically to tell me this in English, which was very kind of her. The museum staff were all wonderful and very approachable. 

One of several famous Ueno Zoo pandas. More on the zoo will come later, but as an overview of Tokyo, I thought this should be included. Stop by and take a look if possible, and compare to the exhibit in Atlanta, GA. 

I will eventually remember what station this very large temple is at, but it is also a must-see. I will post a bit more on it later. Stop and get a Japanese sweet potato (the kind mixed with cream and butter) if you have the chance; they are scrumptious!

Only in Tokyo can you find a cat cafe like this....

I sincerely wanted to meet Professor Oak, but he was nowhere in sight. There were no pokemon either. Apparently, this place came first...

And, an American style mall (in Sunshine city as Shinjuku) with an amazing fountain. I will say this about Japan, nothing is ever halfway. Perhaps because many interesting traditions / holidays are imported, they are imported in a rather completed form - as a result, they tend not to change as quickly as they might in other countries, and then tend to be very specific. For example, the mall has a fountain with an entire water show, including lights. Halloween has a parade, a national theme song, a national dance (both song and dance inspired by Disney), etc. I can't say its a bad thing, but it's interesting. America is a melting pot of traditions, so most traditions are celebrated in a variety of ways, but in Japan, traditions tend to be relatively uniform (from what I have observed). I like it. 

And last but not least, I had my first real brownie in Japan at a Coldstone. They actually sang and danced to three different sons while they made our ice cream, one with a tune to "head, shoulders, knees, and toes." The ice cream was delicious, and the people never stopped smiling once. I do love Japanese customer service (they seem genuine, too). I think it's fun for them to be so into their jobs.

mata, ne...

Jidai Matsuri ni itta (fee form)

If you happen to be in Japan at the time of this parade through the imperial gardens, it is truly a sight to see. Two hours of processions with costumed people from each era of Japanese history attract hundreds of Japanese and foreign tourists. On another note, it is neither short nor does it move quickly, announcements are entirely in Japanese (as expected), and the seating situation probably varies by year - this year, the parade was postponed one day because of rain, and the seating area (blankets on the ground) seemed to have been set up despite the rain...In fact, today started out so glaringly sunny that I worried I wouldn't make it through the parade, and ended up raining by the end. I wasn't adverse to the shade. 

At any rate, I have far more pictures than I can place here, some of them blurry (thank you camera) and some quite interesting. I will post the ones that I like the most, or that caught my eye when I was scrolling through, or simply that I had a thought about - I didn't think through all of them, evidently. This horse was one of many, but was a particularly handsome fellow. He watched us as he walked by, and I could just see how curious he thought it that hundreds of people were lined up to watch him walk by. Unlike some of the other horses, he was neither slavering nor clearly unwilling to cooperate. 

In fact, he was strikingly unlike the horse pictured above, who was so unhappy that I had to include him. He yelled at us, turned around, and yelled at the rest of the crowd, too. I thought he was going to knock his handler over, but he seemed content enough with her. There was another horse that held up the parade for a good while, too - they couldn't get him to move, even with five people pushing!

Scenes like this one abounded before the start of the parade. I would recommend getting there early to walk around and see the grounds and the people, but not too early. It gets a bit long if you start out waiting - like me - sitting on the wet blanket for half an hour before it starts. I enjoyed myself though, especially since I ended up in conversation with two Japanese people sitting beside me, one a university teacher and one a monk...supposedly :)




The clothing was gorgeous. I sometimes had to laugh, though, such as here:

Whose train do you think they're holding? Maybe a very ornately clothed bride's, I would think.

But no, it's his. Haha. I giggled a bit. Sorry trendy Japanese people of the past. You can laugh at me, too, and I'm sure you wouldn't be alone considering my sense of fashion.

I also laughed a bit at this man after staring in disbelief. His horns, I'm pretty sure, were made of cardboard. I can only imagine the neck muscles on the man whose horns were made of metal. Impressive.

Unfortunately, seeing this made me more sad than anything else. I was thinking that there were probably boys this age sent off to war around the world in this era. Everyone walked in perfect step, and I wondered if their facial expressions weren't also fairly reminiscent of those of old - this is tough and long and why are we doing this again?
Or maybe they were cooler than that. There was one guy who came later holding a sign (among many others holding the same sign in the same clothes) and he was the only one smiling. It looked a bit awkward, but in a good way, like he was just so happy he didn't know what to do with himself, or he wasn't sure what he was supposed to be doing with his face. I giggled with that man. I liked him best.

I want a parasol. People actually use them here. She is a beautiful woman, and her kimono suits her well. What more can I say?

The outfits were all amazing. It was a joy to watch. There were people behind this guy carrying kyudou bows. I know kyudou is a very old sport in Japan, and they were from a very early age, so it was fun to see them dressed for a sport that I am learning as well. Their clothing was not that different from mine.

There were also many structures carried by the various performers, like this palaquin.

Then there were people like these who actually did perform. They sang and danced, performing impressive feats and waving their fans at the audience. It was fun.
 I enjoyed the parts of the procession accompanied by music the most although there were relatively few of them. The priests and warriors were fun to hear as well because of the clank of their staffs or armor - the monks in particular dragged their staffs through the gravel in a way that made a very neat noise. Anyway, it was fun. I bought yatsuhashi while I was there to eat on the bus to Tokyo. Most likely, my next post will be about the most sparkling, famous city in Japan. Look forward to it.

Asuka (serious)

And so here begins one of many back-logged adventures. Believe me, I back-log them not because I feel they are boring or unnecessary, but because I need an adventure-less (or less adventurous) day in which to log them. At any rate, my field trip to Asuka, or day trip as the case may be, originally began as a history class adventure to the country surrounding Nara. 

This area is particularly rich in some of the old culture of Japan, with remains dating back to before 600 A.D. (if I remember correctly). The trip was meant to give us a sense of that history, and did so by allowing us to see things like the kofun (looks like a grassy mound) in the image on the right. These are actually ancient tombs to some of the Korean founders of the Japanese nation. Most of the tombs have now been sealed up, or in most cases, wholly removed for storage elsewhere, because of the degrading affects of the humid and hot weather here in Japan. Anyway, the types of artifacts that would have been found within the tombs are pretty typical - pieces of metal, wall-paintings, etc. Note that many of them were typical of Korean tombs of a similar era (I thought this was interesting).

It was also possible to take a look at a replica mold of the displaced tomb, for a price, of course. Entry into the museum cost around 300 yen. We were told that this could be repaid to us, but I doubt I will ever see the money again (time is money, and it would take me 300 yen of time to get my 300 yen back, I bet). 

We were free for the rest of the afternoon to wander around, which left us open to a great many picture taking opportunities. So, I hopped on my bike with a group of friends and spent the afternoon shopping for omiyage (for my host family and people back home), checking out the local food selection, and wandering the countryside with the goal of eventually reaching the neighboring train station so that we could head back home. 

All in all, Asuka is a beautiful place to visit. It is far from the city, and the area sees a lot of tourism from Japanese as well as foreign people. 

The various attractions are simply out there, marked by a little wooden sign on a residential road, like the monkey rocks, for example. This is the scenery across from the rocks (which were behind a large fence and were overall difficult to appreciate because they were so carefully preserved). 

This old man appeared to be enjoying a nice day of fishing at the base of a man-made waterfall. I didn't notice him at first. 

Rice fields abound in this quiet, rural neighborhood. Growing along the edges of those rice fields are these deep crimson flowers that seem to be representative of Japan. Beneath the glow of the slowly sinking sun, they weave back and forth gently in the breeze, seeming to sigh with the contemplative peace of the country. 

In the end, I climbed a mountain for a better view of Asuka. Indeed, like the inked images of ancient Nara, the rollings hills spread into the distance on every side, lost in a cloudy haze. Buildings clumped into cities at the base of these hills, many of which were actually kofun (tombs) overgrown until they were beyond recognition. 

The sun was beautiful on this particular day. 

Perhaps because of this there were a large number of bugs out and about, including vast numbers of Japan's giant dragonflies. I do mean giant, by the way. The first time I saw one, I initially thought it was a bird, and not a small bird, that had become trapped in our kyudou dojo. Now imagine an entire field of these things, black, blue, red, gold, orange, green...darting and zipping to and fro, snapping up insects or simply peering curiously at tourists. It was a fantastic scene, but difficult to capture with a camera. Make due with another picture of Asuka instead...

Japan's insect population is actually somewhat startling. From giant dragonflies to killer wasps, they have everything. By killer wasps I refer to the susumebachi, which for those familiar with Bleach, is actually not a myth. This frightening wasp, roughly the size of one's thumb and a golden orange with black stripes, packs a sting so powerful that the first time takes you out, and the second time takes you down. That's right - two stings and you're dead. Unlike the special ability of the captain in Bleach, however, the stings do not have to be in the same place. It seems to be susumebachi season now, which has me a bit worried - I saw two this week. 

If one of these startling and extremely poisonous insects comes near, move slowly away, or run if necessary. Never hit it, as they are known to attack in large numbers as a result. Never attack their nest either, though you would probably die so fast it wouldn't matter...Now that I've thoroughly freaked out anyone planning to come to Japan, note that killer bees exist in America as well, and yet death by killer bee is not that common. You're as likely to get hit by a susumebachi as a car, I think, especially if you ride a bike.

To return to my discussion of Asuka, I rode back to an earlier station with a group of friends, as stated. Perhaps one of the most wonderful things about the countryside is that the people there are so friendly. Although tens of tourists likely ask them for directions everyday, they nod, smile, wave, and seem perfectly happy to have encountered another young snooper near their farm. Good people of Asuka, thank you for diligently pointing us in the direction of the proper eki (station)! We rode home with a wave out the window!

kyudou fuku (special - the clothes make the man)

I never really believed it until today (that the clothes make the man, that is, or woman as the case may be). However, I will say this: if you plan to become involved in a group activity in Japan where there is a uniform, spring for the uniform. For those who do not know, I have been studying kyudou (Japanese archery) in Japan since I arrived. Lessons are only twice a week, and many of the other participants are Japanese men and women between 30-50 or so with a few younger and older individuals sprinkled throughout, so I hadn't given much thought to the fact that I was basically viewed as "temporary" - particularly seeing as I am. Several people had talked to me in the past, sometimes throwing in English words to make me feel more at home, or offering helpful advice for my awful archery form. For the most part, however, I bowed and nodded and silently watched or practiced while everyone else spoke to me exactly as much as necessary.

After two long months, today I finally bought a kyudou uniform. To step aside for a moment, the kyudou uniform is made up of several important layers. Where I study, this includes a white keikogi ( special shirt similar to that worn beneath a kimono), black hakama (serve as pants, though my fellow students joked that it is a horse-riding skirt - I'm talking about the middle-aged Japanese students, btw), tabi (white socks), and an obi. Some people also wear a kimono, which is more formal and more difficult in my opinion, but of course, more beautiful. I left the purchase up to my sensei, silently hoping that I would get a red or purple obi rather than the teal or brown ones I had seen (even though you see about 1 cm of obi at any time, I still like the bright colors better). Thank you sensei for somehow knowing and buying me a beautiful red one that I will cherish! For all that I make the layers sound somewhat simple, they are rather far from simple for someone used to western style clothing to actually put on. And so my experience of being a little more than "temporary" began with my sensei and one other woman ushering me into a changing room (we had a changing room!?) to help me dress myself.

I would have never expected to have so much fun. It felt very much like a strange-coming-of-age ceremony,as sensei (also a woman, btw) was laughing and unwinding the obi, while the other woman giggled and compared fabrics (everyone had to touch everyone else's hakama to reassure themselves that the newer ones were indeed a different material) and commented about colors and ties and how which and what would suit me best. With much tying, twisting, and confusion on my part, I eventually stood fully kyudou pro in my outfit. The only stand out there was my black socks, since the white ones were a size too big.

Feeling like I had just stepped a little further into the kyudou world, I returned to the building where we practice in good spirits. I turned the corner, and I swear everyone looked over at once, just briefly enough that I could almost think I had imagined it, before most of them went back to what they were doing. Several of the others came to form an appreciative ring, however, saying that I was lucky it suited me, and I was looking nihon-jin (like a Japanese person) and the ensemble was all very beautiful. I was a bit surprised. Most of these were the same people who had briefly spoken to me in the past, but I had been somewhat under the impression that they didn't pay much attention to me in general (again, not that I blamed them at all - there are much better things to be done in the world than look after me!).
I hope I looked happy, because I certainly was. I was also trying to figure out the right words to use when I was suddenly the center of attention, and settled for "I'm a bit embarrassed" which caused a string of chuckles and nods. So I went to practice. Almost immediately, someone came to correct my posture. I nodded and fixed it, deciding that a tight obi is actually somewhat difficult to wear while drawing a bow. Two minutes later, someone else came by to push my back into alignment, and soon after, another came by to show me that I was now quite straight, but in fact a bit bent backwards. Amazed, I nodded and fixed my posture again and again (I have now decided that the most difficult part of kyudou is standing...), stunned at how easy people suddenly seemed to find it to approach me, talk to me, and even touch me! I could practically feel my personal bubble shrinking (in a good way).
When I resolutely stamped my socked foot down on one of the numerous mosquitos that attempt to each me alive while I shoot, I looked up to see three of my fellow students giggling and applauding "yes, you got that one. That's how we do it here." When it came time to clean up, someone came up to as me where I was from, and another to ask me about what I was studying in university.
All I did was change my clothes.
All I did was change my clothes....

All I did....ok, I said that already. Anyway, I was surprised. I was pleased. I hope it holds true in the future, particularly since I'm taking a week long break to go to Tokyo, and one more week afterward because sensei will be out of town. I would like to talk to them all, get to know them, and improve because of their advice. Of course, I think I've also become a bit of a doll to them, not that I mind. There was quite a stir at the end of practice when I asked if I could change out. "It's a pity to take it off, don't you think? All the young girls wear it home on their bikes. Where do you live again?" I reminded them that I lived half an hour away by bike, to which sensei smiled and laughed and nodded, clearly amused that I would be unable to change my mind for at least half an hour about wearing my clothing home. When I told her I wanted to go to the bathroom, she demonstrated how I could go without taking off my hakama. Now eager to take this new challenge (I refer here to the bike riding, though I must say there was more laughter when I said I would just wait until I got home to go to the bathroom) I bid them farewell and biked home in a nice gaijin ensemble of traditional kyudou clothing, leather boots, and bike helmet. :) Japan has never seen someone quite like me, I'm sure. It;s probably a good thing.

As for the pictures, they are again of a random nature when related to the content of this blog. They are, however, interesting, so I included them for various reasons (such as having no kyudou pictures). The first few are from a machiya, which is an old style Japanese house built around the Tokugawa period (1600-1800's). I had a class in one, and it was gorgeous and smelled like tatami - I love the smell of tatami! The second set of images is from a bowling alley, for those who hadn't guessed. The main point here was that the alley itself is very reminiscent of American ones, not surprisingly, but with a few extra gadgets. For example the shoe lockers pictured above. It was from these that I got my shoe size for the too-big socks, but at any rate, you simply walk up and push the button on the proper shoe size and shoes come out the bottom. That's right folks, its a shoe vending machine. Incidentally, shoes are returned to similar slots, one for half and one for whole sizes. I thought this was ingenious. More ingenious, or maybe just downright nice, were the shoe lockers beside the shoe vending machine that allow you to store your shoes for 100 yen, but give that 100 yen back once you retrieve your shoes. Is this a sign of a culture where people leave their shoes behind? I don't know, but I like it when I get my money back. 

Bara to hokano hana (serious)

I mentioned on the foods page that I ate the delectable looking waffles at a flower garden. Well, although these flowers are essentially no different from flowers anywhere else, I have decided to post the pictures. Enjoy and relax. You deserve it.

To the silvery sky,

Let these petals fall,

Swift like rain,

Or slow like snow,

As Autumn comes,

the fading light,

Like fairy dust,

will fall too,

and bury itself,

deep in the earth,

until the new spring.

Hopefully that was enjoyable. There were other plants as well, of course, like this thing that looked like it might be carnivorous.

I hope it hasn't eaten too many small children. To be safe, I did not allow my host brother to get too close...