Sensei Takes Photo

 These girls were waiting nearby at the Metro subway station this evening.  I asked them if I may please take their photo.  They were very shy and did not understand my request.  After much giggling and shaking of heads in confusion, I finally said, "Sensei" (teacher) and pointed to myself.  Then I pointed to my iPhone camera and said, "For my students."  Suddenly they understood, lifted their hands, and posed.

In Japan teachers are given a great deal of respect.  Many students are closer to their teachers during their teenage years than to their own mothers because they spend so much time together during school hours and on weekends. 

Birth and Death

We took a Saturday trip by train outside of Tokyo to the town of Kamakura.  It has 65 Buddhist temples and 19 Shinto shrines.  It's a great place to learn how two complimentary religions have blended to shape Japanese culture.  In the early 12th C the Minamoto clan seized power and the Shogun set up his government in Kamakura.  He wanted to be far away from the Imperial city of Kyoto.  It was the capital of Japan for roughly 150 years.

First we visited the popular Shinto shrine (see left photo), Tsurugaoka Hachimangu, then we paid respects to the Great Buddha (see photo below).   This is the third largest Buddha statue in Japan and weighs a whopping 93 tons.  We offered up a few Yen and went inside the structure to learn how it was assembled in pieces using highly innovative, new metallurgy techniques.   At one time this Buddha was protected from the elements by a rooftop, but a tidal wave washed the structure away. Now it sits uncovered and alone, dramatically poised against wooded hillsides. 

 The indigineous religion of Shinto (literally, "the way of the gods"), is largely concerned with LIFE and cleanliness, preferring not to associate with death.  In contrast, Buddhism arrived after a considerable journey.  It left India, passing through China and Korea on its way to the shores of Japan.  Besides importing the beauty of Chinese civilization, it also brought the concept of withdrawal from the world and acceptance of DEATH.   Today approximately 80% of Japanese people who get married do so in a Shinto shrine (and many have a Christian wedding as well) and 90% have a Buddhist funeral.  (Although when asked, about 80% say they are "not religious though they might be Buddhist.")   While Shintoism and Buddhism provide the context for nearly all of society, they do NOT dictate morality.  Rather, the rules of human conduct are defined largely by Confucianism, a set of secular ideas including obedience to authority, loyalty to one's elders/superiors, and a life of introspection and simple-living.

As we strolled through a Tokugawa garden one day, I asked a friend how the Japanese deal with, say, the birth of a stillborn child.  "Since it includes both birth and death, is that part of Shintoism or Buddhism?" I asked.    He explained that the guardian diety of children, Jizo, historically played a role in these matters.  Unfortunately, my family and I did not make the 10-minute walk from Great Buddha to the Hase Kannon Temple whose entrance steps are lined with Jizo statues set up by parents long ago to resemble their children in the hopes that the deity would protect  them from harm.   But in recent years the Jizo statues have come to represent miscarried, stillborn, and aborted infants.  Tens of thousands of miniature Jizo statues, some wearing hand-knitted sweaters and hats, have been offered here.  Each statue remains approximately one year before it is burned or buried.  This is a politically-charged and chilling reminder of some very desperate situations.

 Historically, Japanese parents who also found themselves in dire straits, resorted to infanticide and child-prostitution.  After a poor harvest when many farmers had too little rice to pay their heavy tax burden and families were starving, infanticide and abortion became widespread.  This was necessary in order to reduce the number of mouths to feed.  (Frequently baby girls were smothered in the "birthing bowl" but sometimes that was to avoid the burden of eventual dowries.)  When pressed to repay debts, many fathers resorted to selling their daughters (or wives) to brothels and entertainment venues.  He received a loan in exchange for a set number of years for her services.  Often the terms of service were extended when another loan was required.  If the daughter was released, she became marriageable.  If she remained in service, it was possible for a man to purchase her for a wife or mistress.   During hard times, to fulfill one's filial duty to care for parents--and to feed the family-- poor fathers resorted to desperate actions.   And society largely accepted it as a necessary way of life. 

I promise to lighten the topic in the next text!   

Christianity in Past and Present Japan

Yesterday I visited a Roman Catholic K-12 school.  Headmistress Sister Margaret extended a very gracious, warm invitation to become part of her school community.  As a student of history, I find it amazing how Roman Catholicism managed to survive in a society that virtually closed itself to--and brutally persecuted--Christianity for roughly 200 years.  First, here is a little history lesson...

At the end of the 12th century a period of civil wars commenced. The Emperor and his Court lost power to feuding clans.  Through the military might of three men called Shoguns, Japan ultimately unified and the Edo (Tokugawa) Period began.   To remember each unifier,  I teach my ninth-grade students a little saying that most Japanese children learn in primary school.  It goes like this:  "Nobunaga piled the rice, Hideyoshi kneaded the dough, but Tokugawa Ieyasu ate the cake."  Each played a role in Japan's unification.

In 1573 the first powerful military lord, Oda Nobunaga, seized power over most of Japan but eight years later was slain while dancing in his temple.  His successor, Toyotomi Hideyoshi, further extended control over Japan and ruled from its then-capital of Kyoto.  Hideyoshi loved festive parties and celebrations.  He loved dancing, drama and art.  New entertainments developed, some of which continue today.  And this was a period of expanding trade, particularly with the West.  

Simultaneously, the Jesuit missionary, Francis Xavier, began a religious mission.  It became so successful that the city of Nagasaki soon came under control of Roman Catholics. (Some theorists think it was no coincidence that the US chose Nagasaki as the target for Fat Man, the second atomic bomb.)  But the government soon felt threatened by these foreigners and their strange, new ways.  So in response, Hideyoshi began the persecution of Christians while also promoting a great spirit of nationalism.  (Not unlike the current government's turn toward increasing nationalism, perhaps?)  Oddly, the presence of these foreigners had the effect of lifting public morale because it aroused in the Japanese people a new feeling of unity and loyalty to all things Japanese.  But in 1598 Hideyoshi died and with his passing, much of the gaiety died too, but not the persecutions.  

Under the third Unifier, Tokugawa Ieyasu, the spirit of the nation changed.  This heavy-weight military dictator tightened his grip on the country.  He expelled all foreigners except the Chinese and Dutch who were allowed to trade at Nagasaki a few weeks of the year. (Because the Dutch did not engage in religious activities they were allowed to continue.)   Severe persecution of Christians began and any revolts were squashed, largely for political reasons.    Tokugawa Ieyasu instituted a long period of isolation.  Japanese people were not allowed to leave the country, those abroad could not return under penalty of death, and large ocean-going vessels could not be built.  All of this changed in 1853 when U.S. Commodore Perry arrived and forced the Shogunate to open.  This feudal period continued for another fifteen years during which time the nation hotly debated the acceptance of outside ideas and practices.  Such discussion continues today.  

When Christianity was outlawed, Hideyoshi and Tokugawa issued great census-taking orders.  All villages and households were strictly organized in hierarchical order.   The Shogun's edict stated that each family must become registered parishioners of a Buddhist temple. Further, village officials had to declare that every person, from every strata of society, had been examined and that no persons suspected of Christianity were found.  The priest of the temple, along with village bureaucrats, sealed the survey.  It was official.  There were no Christians in Japan.  

But Christianity survived!  It is a living, vibrant institution with about 500,000 practitioners today. I visited one Catholic school and had a chat with its energetic headmistress, Sister Margaret.  She told me that, at present, many people fear an increasingly-nationalistic culture.  And in the midst of this political and social climate, the school trains young women (and its partner-school trains young men) to become global leaders.  Interestingly, it does not admit students who can otherwise attend Japanese public schools tuition-free.  Rather, its student-body is quite a global group.  They have many children with one Japanese parent and another parent of a different nationality.  For this latter bunch, Japanese public schools can be a brutal experience.  These not-totally-Japanese kids are frequently ostracized by the native children because they are not part of the tightly-knit classroom cohort called the kumi.  They do not speak with the proper dialect, display the proper manners, nor wear the proper attire.  Once Japanese children have lived abroad, they cannot be poured back into the national mold.  Therefore, their only choice is to attend a private school--and dream of leaving.

Concerning the future for her female graduates, Sister Margaret remarked, "Almost universally our young women leave Japan permanently after graduation and do not come back." Opportunities for women in business and academia are not nearly as great here as in the U.S. or Great Britain.  Expectations for having a family and a career are totally unrealistic.  For a nation with plummeting marriage and birth rates, government officials need to make some immediate and wise policy choices.  Their national goals must include plans that foster a more healthy, balanced life between work and family, while also reducing the onerous exam burdens placed upon the young.  (More on those cram schools later, I hope.)   

I don't know how much pressure these private school children experience with regard to national exams.  My tutoring will not have the explicit goal of preparing girls for the university examination.  Rather, I will tutor children in English with the goal increasing their fluency so that they can succeed in the English-speaking classrooms.   They spoke of one child in particular who was admitted to the school in January '13 but has made zero progress in any subject.  I asked if that is a language issue or a learning issue.  The principal replied,  "We aren't sure.  That is why we are very excited to have you here.  Perhaps with your expertise you can help us determine the underlying cause."  I will do my best to understand the root of the issue but I make no promises.  Sorting out a language issue versus a fundamental learning issue may require more than my expertise.  

A Crushing Experience

8:15 a.m. Morning Commute in Tokyo

This morning's visit to a high school required a trip on two subway lines.  The first subway ride was just terrifying.  I boarded nearest my home at Station #2 for the ride through Midtown Tokyo toward transfer Station #7.  Upon entering the car,  I stayed fairly near the sliding door so as to keep an eye on the scrolling electronic signboard and not miss my destination.  But I had a crushing experience that I will never forget and hope never to repeat.  

The car began to fill with more and more and more and more people until we were completely wedged together, intimately touching places that are highly improper for any society, especially one where PDAs are taboo.   Pushing, shoving and heaving were so powerful that I began to fall onto the laps of people beneath me.  I grabbed the overhead bar and a strap, and hung on with all my might, trying to withstand the force and avoid crushing those below.  I was the tallest person around and could look over this swaying, rocking, massive brick of humanity.   The crush was becoming physically painful but it did not stop.   How shocking that no one pushed back or yelled!  Rather, people silently heaved back and forth until the train abruptly halted.  Then people began jostling.  They scrambled over, around, and under one another toward the exit.  Passengers remaining on the train went into a sort of limp-body-state, allowing their torsos and limbs to flow with the waves of other torsos and limbs.   For my part, it took such great effort not to scream in panic that I shook frightfully as I exited at Station #7.  

White-gloved, blue-uniformed "pushers"/ announcers stand on the platform and keep the traffic flowing by shouting instructions and shoving passengers onto cars.  

The second leg of the journey was calm because I jumped onto a "Women's Only" car where men are not allowed before 9:20 a.m. (although two male riders ignored the directive.)   This is a place where women can ride without perverts who, in tightly-packed conditions, press themselves against female passengers in scurrilous ways.

Homeless in Tokyo

A small group of charitable women rise early every day of the week to assemble rice balls for Tokyo's homeless population.  Since Japan's economic downturn, the number of homeless has increased for young and old alike.   One park has a particularly large number of vagrants and on nice days visitors can see clotheslines with freshly-laundered articles hung out to dry.  As I walk by, I see men chatting, strumming instruments, and taking naps.  Transients typically occupy the same space every day.  And since green space is hard to come by in Tokyo, they must go at a premium rate.

This dedicated bunch of ladies invited me to join them in their good work; no prior rice-ball-making skilled required, they said.  The idea rolled around my head like a sticky rice ball as I explored yet another Tokyo neighborhood.  (How ironic if I help the destitute overseas and pretty much ignore them in my own city.  Is this the best use of my time in Tokyo?  What can I learn from this experience?  How essential is my help anyway?)   As I walked toward home, I decided to take a brief rest at a bench and think it over.  Most of the bench was covered with a pile of rubbish so I perched on the edge and watched chatty school kids who occupied the other benches  around.  

Presently, an older man approached and looked disapprovingly at me and at the trash.  I wasn't sure if he was more upset by the American or the rubbish.  The poor fellow appeared quite disheveled and carried two well-worn bags which he deposited at my feet.  After some time he took out a plastic bag and began to remove the rubbish with great care, making certain that not even the tiniest speck remained.  Having cleared the bench, he sat down, pulled out a sandwich and munched away.  I could see his reflection in a large-paned window across the way but not until I heard a whirring sound did I look directly at him.   Here was a homeless fellow with an electric razor!!  In the same way that he meticulously cleaned his bench, he shaved his stubble.  Not a whisker remained.  But my question remains:  Shall I serve the homeless in Japan?? 

Tsu Hard for Me

This Japanese language really has me in knots.  Mixing three writing systems into one language seems so unnecessarily complicated.  It flies in the face of Japan's cultural value of simplicity.  To ease the frustration, I resorted to using clever representations of each sound to help recall each symbol.  This is Augie Doggie, our happy little Shi Tsu that I miss so much.  His eyes and mouth make the symbol for Tsu.  Doug might better remember Tsu by turning it into a Tsunami.  

As you can see, I am practicing Katakana symbols.  I do so both for recognition and to learn their phonetic sounds.  To help, I purchased a phone app that shows each symbol, speaks it clearly, and offers a clever (very silly) way to remember.  For review, I grab a sheet of scratch paper and practice, practice, practice in order to memorize, memorize, memorize.  Both are highly valued attributes here.  I just wonder how helpful this will really be.  Thankfully there is no national examination before I am allowed to leave the country.

Good for the Heart

 Getting exercise in Japan is not a problem.  This was the first of several escalators in a row at just one subway stop.  Consider this:  I am already half way up this escalator before taking the photo!  And this is just one of several subway station climbs taken each day.   If the escalators are crowded, as they usually are, I much prefer to take the steps and avoid the crush.  I can get a pretty good heart rate going by the time I've briskly climbed 4 or more stories of stairs!   Maybe that is the reason the average life span for women is 86 (world's highest) and 79 for men (a decline from 80 last year).  The smoking rate here seems quite high compared with the U.S. (I need to check on the accuracy of this assumption.)   I wonder how that impacts-or will impact- life expectancy.  I see a lot of young people standing in the cold having a cigarette.   

Covering Up Books and Trees

 
Before iPhones, most Japanese read books on the subway.  Some still do.  (This is a country with 100% adult literacy.)  Interestingly, men and women alike cover their books using fancy paper, obscuring book titles.  If it were just men, I might suspect they were hiding something.  (More on popular reading materials later perhaps.)  If it were women only, I might suspect that they wanted something showy and pretty.   Perhaps the purpose is to preserve the books from wear and tear?  Or maybe it is just tradition and societal pressure exists to do so?   At this time, I am not sure what the precise purpose is.  But the books' covers and content are intriguing.  

Japanese books are typically smaller and shorter than books in the West.  They are read from back to front and down columns from right to left.  I am aware that we do not read in a smooth, constant progression.  Rather, our eyes jump and pause as we move across the text.  Depending upon word predictability and length, we skip words and linger on others.  This is how it works with Roman letters.  But how does it work with Japanese (and Chinese) characters?  The answer is:  I don't really know.  I suspect that since a singe character or ideogram represents an idea, not only are Japanese books shorter in length, but a reader's eye movements might differ from ours because of the language structure.  I suspect that the Japanese cannot skip ideograms or they would miss entire ideas.  I want to investigate that question further.  Take a look at the photo (above) that compares  Japanese and English-translation brochures of the famous Tokugawa garden we visited yesterday.  While the writings contain the same information, which is longer, the English or the Japanese?  The brochure is the same length.  Notice that the Japanese characters are much larger than the small English language font. 

Inside each of these straw structures is a tender tree.  Notice how carefully they have been wrapped for protection from the winter's cold?  Unlike our Western culture where nature reflects the Divine, at the heart of Japanese culture is the belief that nature IS the very embodiment of the Divine.  According to Shintoism, kamis are spirits that reside in the trees, rocks, water, and in all parts of nature.  Thus, when a precious 800 year-old tree dies, the nation's top horticultural specialists are called out to coax one of its off-shoots to life lest the enshrined kami no longer have a dwelling place. 

Beer and Burdock

For the second time this week I have eaten burdock.  Yes, burdock, that pesky weed that even cows won't eat--and sticks to your clothing. I fought patches of this wild plant every summer on the farm.  I don't know if it was the "common" burdock or the "giant" burdock (it looked pretty giant when I was a kid). I just know that I can't believe I'm eating it here.  Its root is used as a vegetable in various Japanese dishes.  I don't like its texture or taste unless deep-fried so it resembles french fries.  It is frequently served in pubs with beer.  Beer and Burdock.  I guess they go together.

Nuts!

 Yesterday the weather went from 59 degrees Fahrenheit down to the mid 30s with strong winds.  Brrrr!  (I know you Minnesota readers are scoffing.)  Doug and I walked to the neighborhood of Meguro which is a train and subway hub surrounded by all kinds of eating and drinking establishments.  In the cold, a Japanese fellow suddenly approached us holding a menu with English translations.  He pointed downstairs to the facility.   I paid no attention to the "Izakaya" sign above the door.  Wanting warmth and tasty, inexpensive food, we hurried down.  Ushered to the back corner table, the waiter promptly delivered a bowl of assorted nuts.  We ate them hungrily thinking they were complimentary munchies.  We noted that the wine and beer listings were three times the length of the scanty food menu, most of which were dishes of tripe (animal intestines).   Our food arrived on a gas burner and I was not happy about having to cook a $26 dish myself.    The dish was not inexpensive and the entrails too tough to chew.   Still feeling a bit hungry and somewhat irritated, we told the waiter that since we had not ordered the nuts, we did not want to pay the 700 yen ($7).  He deducted the amount. 

After some reading, I learned that an "Izakaya" is a casual place where Japanese go after work to eat and drink.  Not a pub, not a restaurant but something in-between.  After a warm towel is delivered for hand-washing (not face-washing!), nuts are set on the table and automatically charged to the bill in lieu of an entry fee.  Drinks and small plates (kind of like Spanish tapas) are to be ordered and delivered throughout the evening.  Some Izakaya allow customers to eat and drink all they want for two or three hours.  To be honest, the food at this Izakaya was so bad that one dish was plenty. 

Fill-out-this-form

 This little apartment meets our needs quite well.  While amenities are basic, it is peaceful, accessible, and easily maintained.  Plus, at a daily rental rate of 710 yen, or $7.10 (U.S.), it is perfect!  (Note:  It is located next to the University of Tokyo's medical school / hospital and is filled with all kinds of researchers and families.)  The instruction booklet that accompanies the apartment is 76 single-spaced pages, complete with diagrams and details about everything from water, trash, and mail service, to instructions for guests and overnight stays elsewhere.   These instructions read:  "You can invite visitors to your room (apartment).  Every visitor needs to fill in the prescribed form at the office.... If you plan to stay overnight outside the lodge, please fill in the form "Notice of Travel / Absence from Lodge" and submit it to the office in advance."  Seemingly everywhere there are "fill-out-this-form" directives. 

For this American couple, reared on large diets of pot roast and liberty, such requirements feel childish.  Why must we tell the "landlord" that we will have a friend for tea, or tell "the management" that we will take a weekend away at, say, a ski resort or hot springs??   In case of an emergency, our cell phones and email work just fine, thanks--unless the BIG one hits and, in such case, we are all toast.  Why this kind of keeping tabs on one another??  

After some reflection, this system appears to be part of the Japanese culture of amae which is an attitude that fosters attachment to one another in small concentric community circles i.e. family members, colleagues, neighbors, etc.  In case of a crisis, we will surely need a community in Japan!  And likewise, in America we rely upon community circles when there is a natural disaster, sickness, financial hardship or other crisis.   Admittedly, what feels like security to the Japanese feels like snooping to the American.  Perhaps I need to tweak my thinking.  Surely I have something valuable to learn.

Typical Tokyo

When asked where we live,  we answered "Shirokanedai" and that drew some scoffing.  "That's not Tokyo" was the reply.   It is true that our neighborhood is not jammed with crowded store-fronts like most.  Here is a more typical Tokyo street.  And note the great space-saving way to park bicycles below. 

Saturday on the Subway

Saturday on the Subway.  Not a particularly crowded day.  If the tall fellow's head were not in the way (and you were as tall as I), you could see all the way through many cars.  These subways move an impressive number of passengers hourly!  This photo is looking from one train car into another.

Campaign for Tokyo Mayor

We haven't figured out the purpose of these boards yet.  They appear in various places throughout the city including outside our apartment building.  Doug thinks they may serve a political purpose; perhaps these people are running for government office?  (I think they may be on Japan's most-wanted list.)  If these are candidates for political office, what an orderly and sane way to go about advertising! 
Update:  Yes, this is a political campaign, and it is a big one.  There are 16 candidates for mayor (governor) of Tokyo though these boards only show the top few. 

Boy's Prussian-Style School Uniform

This tired young man is wearing the Japanese boy's public school uniform.  Notice the high clerical-type collar.  The uniform consists of a well-fitted black jacket and black pants.  In this photo his arm obscures the front brass buttons.  Apparently this uniform dates back to 1868 when Japan was forced to open to the West (called "the Meiji Restoration" when the god-emperor once again held both political and religious power.) To modernize the country, the Emperor sent educators throughout Europe to learn about new teaching techniques and they were so impressed with the well-disciplined Prussian military academies that the Prussian uniform was adopted for all Japanese school boys.  I didn't pay much attention to his footwear though I think he was wearing leather shoes.  It is customary for each student to have several different pairs of footwear at school:  tennis schools, slip-on shoes for the classroom, slip-on shoes for the gymnasium, and special athletic shoes for their chosen sport (eg. soccer or baseball).  I don't know why this fellow is wearing his uniform on a Sunday.  Perhaps he is returning home from a weekend competition.  He had a book bag and a gym bag but no instrument case.  He is really tired--even my flash did not wake him. 

Bento Box

 A beautiful bento box dinner. Very delicious.  Sushimi, tempura, assorted pickled items, vegetables, tofu, miso, rice, fruit, tea and sake.   Such a pleasant evening after a visit to the Edo-Tokyo Museum.  (More history lessons later!)  

I need to be honest.   Amidst the dazzling glass and steel buildings of Tokyo there lurks a shadowy societal substructure.  Last evening during a subway ride I briefly witnessed a scene that reminded me of this evil dark side.  As a teacher, perhaps I have a heightened sensitivity to what's going on with people around me for the movement of a particular passenger snapped me to attention.  This is what I observed...

 On Japanese subways seated passengers ride on long benches facing the center aisle.  I had just taken a seat when a stocky young man with a notably un-Japanese physique wearing a backwards baseball cap, baggy jeans and tennis shoes, quickly approached a woman seated diagonally across from me.  He brusquely and silently handed her a hand-written note, then kept walking.  She quickly scanned it, grimaced slightly, and tucked it into a transparent envelope.  Nervously she put the envelope into her purse yet pulled it out numerous times to read it again through the plastic.  In my judgement, she was not older than 15 years.

Having lived for some time in a Chicago apartment building from which prostitutes plied their nightly business, I am fairly familiar with "the look."  And she certainly had it.  As she huddled on the corner seat,  she became aware that I was carefully observing her.  She did not look entirely Japanese but appeared to be trying to look so.  Under her bangs she wore thick, fake eyelashes.  She also wore thin baby-doll pajama shorts, over-the-knee black stockings, flimsy high-healed shoes, and a leopard-print jacket.  Clearly she was beginning her night's work.  I wanted to lean forward and whisper to her, "Come with me."  I am angry with every individual who supports and condones this abuse of young women-- and societies that looks the other way.  I recognize that these operations also exist in my hometown.  It is all evil.  Just evil.

Debbiedo

Bushido (the Way of the Warrior), Sado (the Way of Tea), Shodo (the Way of Calligraphy).  Debbiedo (the Way of Photography) or missed photos, that is.   My family jokes about how I do not take many photos; I live in the moment.  Again, I missed a great photo opp.      

Last evening a party was held in a tatami room to honor Doug's arrival as a visiting faculty and celebrate the successful defense of a student's PhD.  As is the tradition, an after-hours work party was held to honor special occasions.  Today they are usually held in a local restaurant but for this occasion, they opened the department's special tatami mat room.  

Before stepping up onto the raised tatami mat floor (made of rice straw) we took off our shoes.  Some guests properly pointed them toward the exit door. (Note: I am very glad for slip-on shoes!)   Low rectangular tables circled the room with floor cushions placed around.  Discussion was underway about where to seat the guests according to levels of seniority.  The issue was where to place me.  Apparently there was concern that I might be offended if not seated at the table of honor where Doug was supposed to sit but there were not enough cushions at the table.   In the end, Doug sat at the honored-guest table and I sat at the table with most-senior faculty members.  

The center of the room was filled with all kinds of delicious sushi and delicate Japanese delights, along with Domino's Pizza.  Apologies were made that the pizza was not as good as Domino's in the U.S.   I assured them that I rarely eat pizza anyway, that I prefer Japanese foods.  Soon speeches commenced beginning with Doug's.  Afterwards the eating and drinking began.  Lots of wine was available, including varieties of sake (rice wine) and plum wine (sold at the local Shinto shrine where students go to pray for good examination scores.)   Though my legs cramped and I broke the proper way for ladies to sit--kneeling (seiza), I relaxed and assumed a more comfortable side-ways recline.  Conversations were delightful.

The young woman who successfully defended her thesis came to have a talk with me.  She was flushed with excitement and very animated, eager to share stories about life in our respective countries.  She admitted that she did not pay attention to high school HISTORY lessons because, she said, "they did not matter for my university entrance exams."   Science was her chosen field and therefore she would not study the humanities at the university.   She asked about the history of St. Louis, Mizoooree.  I gave her a mini-lesson on its geography and the Lewis and Clark expedition's attempt to find an all-water route to China.  (Japan was still closed to Westerners at the time.)   She knew about the Arch but not what it symbolized.  She also knew about the California Gold Rush.  Then it was her turn to tell me about the long history of her hometown, Kamakura.  Many stories were shared before the evening wound down.  Everyone pitched in with clean-up and soon we were on the subway for the ten-stop ride home. 

Many of you have asked how my height is working out in Japan and many of you know that I wear these Dansko shoes nearly everywhere I go.  They are very comfortable but do add additional height, making me precisely 182 cm tall.  (You can do the conversion.) Yes, that can present problems in Japan.  The biggest issue has been the metro subway.  Sometimes I read a book and lose track of time, or I nod off to sleep. Suddenly I realize that the train has arrived at my station and I pop up like toast in a toaster, bolt for the door, politely nod and mumble, Sumimasen, Sumimasen (excuse me, excuse me). But with each nod, my head thumps the overhead hand-holds. (Thump-thump-thump-thump)  So, most of the time I leave the train bent over in a feeble imitation of a Japanese bow.  

 Shh!  Don't tell the Japanese that I am bragging about a KOREAN food item on my Tokyo blog but I simply could not believe what I experienced last evening while dining at a corner Korean cafe.  After we bumbled into the pleasantly-lit restaurant and settled ourselves upon a long bench with empty tables, the waiter delivered two cups of steaming tea.  I sipped the delicious drink while watching streams of men walk by on their way to girlie bars. (or perhaps restaurants?)  Like the view, the tea was different than anything I had ever experienced.  I had to learn about the latter.  So, after a meal of guessing ingredients and grimacing at the kimchi (fermented vegetables), we paid the tab and I inquired about the tea.  The waiter spoke unusually fluent English and was delighted by my interest in his restaurant's tea.  He plucked a for-sale mesh bag from the counter top and explained that the contents were not really tea at all!  It was sweet corn tea!  He was so pleased at my interest that he gave me the tea bags for free.  I grew up on an Iowa corn farm, lived outside a tiny town with a sweet corn factory, I never heard of sweet corn tea?!  Apparently it is a popular drink in eastern South Korea and is called oksusu cha.  The corn is dried, roasted, and brewed with boiling water. Then the tea is strained to rid of the kernels.  If you like kettle corn, this drink would probably delight you too!   It is naturally sweet and, for me, feels just like comfort food.  

Da-bu-ra (hypen-dot) Wa-e-n-su.  This is "Debra Wiens" in Katakana and the proper pronunciation.   Katakana is one of three writing systems in Japan.  It is used primarily for foreign names and words of foreign origin.  As you can see, its symbols are made of straight lines.  The Japanese language consists of using all three systems:  Kanji (Chinese characters), Hiragana (a phonetic system with symbols in curvilinear style), and Katakana.  Upon arrival in Japan, I was so cold that this symbol for wool was the first one I mastered as I hurried through clothing stores looking for a warm sweater.  Some of the choices still smelled faintly like sheep so I had a clue, but knowing this symbol made the task so much easier!   

 Surprise, surprise!! I really enjoyed watching sumo wrestling!  Today we attended the Grand Sumo Tournament here in Tokyo, one of the six big tournaments of the year.  The event is organized so that the best contestants compete at the end of the day.  I uploaded to YouTube a video (taken by Doug) of the reigning champion, Hakuho.  This win continued his undefeated record for this event. He has three more days of competition but I am betting he will hold the title. Take a look! 
Video:  Hakuho_January 23, 2014

The legend of how sumo wrestling began goes something like this...
In ancient times ownership of the Japanese islands was determined by  a sumo match between two gods.  And the current Emperor of Japan allegedly traces his ancestry back 2,500 years to the victor, the god Takeminakata!

Sumo was used to strengthen warriors for battle and also has meaning in the Shinto religion where humans are believed to sometimes wrestle with spirits called kami.  Eventually sumo became both a sport and an occupation of the Samurai warrior class.  Oda Nobunaga, the first great unifier of Japan, took a particularly keen interest in sumo and it became a highly-developed form of entertainment thereafter. 

The goal of sumo is to force one's opponent out of the circular ring or cause him to touch the ground with any part of body other than the soles of his feet.  A bout lasts anywhere between a few seconds and a few minutes.  Because weight classes do not exist, there is often a big difference in the weight of the two contestants but the smaller competitor can still win with greater skill and speed.   Prior to each bout, ancient rituals are still practiced and include much clapping, mouth-rinsing, salt-throwing (lots of it!), slapping, leg-lifting and squatting.  When contestants finally wash their faces and arm pits, the crowd goes wild with cheers and shouts because the bout is about to begin. 

I found this great little book in the Tokyo National Museum--and read it.  It has one chapter on each of the social classes in Tokugawa Japan.   I enjoy seeing how historical practices are still reflected in the culture today. 

Note to my former students:  We have this book in our Clayton High library!  When you write your spring research paper you might want to compare life as a warrior, farmer, or artisan in feudal Japan with life as a warrior, farmer, or artisan in a western country of the same time period.  This book is very informative and readable.  Check it out!

This guy is a samurai, a feudal warrior.  You probably already knew that, but you may not know that armies of these guys wreaked havoc upon Japan from the early 12th C until Tokugawa Ieyasu took control as a military dictator in 1600.  He declared himself the Shogun and set up his capital in Edo, known today as Tokyo. This Pax Tokugawa period is also called the Edo Era.    Relative peace lasted for over 250 years which pretty much meant that these fellows lost their livelihood (fighting) and had to find work elsewhere.  This was a giant step down for these warriors! 

Since 1586 the Shogun, Hideyosi, had decreed that saurai could not become townsmen and farmers could not leave their land.  Townspeople could carry only one short sword for protection and farmers could own none.  Only samurai were permitted two swords, a long one and one short, both protruding from his girdle on the left-hand side, ready for the right hand to grasp the handle in an emergency.  

The inequality of human beings was accepted in Japan and great effort was made to protect the lives and safety of those ranked above.  A very rigid class structure was created that went like this from top to bottom... Shogun (military dictator), Daimyo (land-lords), Samurai (warriors), Farmers (producers), Craftsmen (workers) and Merchants (viewed as parasites  because they produced nothing for society's benefit, only traded the products labored over by others.)  Outside of this structure was the Emperor in Kyoto who was a god-figure.  The unclean underclass known as the Eta (the name applied in western textbooks) or burakumin (as they are called in Japanese textbooks) was associated with the filthy jobs of tanning leather and slaughtering animals.  To this day it is unacceptable to bring the subject of Eta up in conversation. Some families even hire private detectives to guarantee that no burakumin-blood exists in the future marriage partner of their son or daughter! 

Ichi-go Ichi-e is an expression that Julia and I learned at the traditional tea ceremony (more on tea later).  It literally means "One-time, One-meeting."   This idea, with origins in Buddhism, is that each experience is only enjoyed once in a lifetime and is transcendent.  Each experience is unique in time and place.   This expression is applied to all settings but particularly to social gatherings involving food.  When applied to food preparation and the dining experience, ambiance and all details are perfectly orchestrated down to the tiniest detail.  

YouTube has several videos on the exquisite, painstaking food preparations of Japanese chefs.  One covers Kaiseki which is the ultimate expression of the culinary arts.  (To see the video:  Kaiseki)  Japan is truly the pinnacle of culinary experiences.  The photo below shows one of the first meals that Julia and I enjoyed.  It was a simple meal yet we reveled in its variety, flavors, and beauty.  (The photo does not do it justice.)