Life in Japan from a foreigner's perspective (video)

I don't agree with everything in this video, but I agree with a lot. I think there could've been less grumbling and more joy – come on, it's great to be here! – but it's quite balanced compared to many programmes I've seen about life in Japan. My only other criticism is the emphasis on Western foreigners, but then again, I assume your own background would colour your experience in a different environment.

The one section that really struck me was at 0:55, when the German woman (the same one who said she came to Japan because she'd fallen in love with a Japanese man) talks about paintings: "They learn this painting is by this painter, and from this year, but they don't learn to discuss it, they don't learn to have an opinion about it."

I see that every day with my students. I'm not talking about university, but eikaiwa, although even university students need prompting to get an argument going. Debating isn't a skill that comes naturally, and there seems to be a misconception that it's primarily because Japanese is a vague language. Rubbish. You can be brutally direct in Japanese and incomprehensibly inexplicit in English: frankness and equivocation are dictated by your culture, not your language. I've had to point out, on more than one occasion, that the English language doesn't magically bestow the ability to be a logical, persuasive and lethal orator.

The difference between university students and eikaiwa students is startling. Granted, I'm privileged to teach at a good university, but it still doesn't explain why it's relatively easy to get university students to express an opinion and to argue against different points of view, and so difficult to get anything but that vlakhaas-caught-in-a-Landrover's-headlights look with even a high-level eikaiwa group when you ask that very simple question, "What do you think?" Is it too much time spent in high school on memorizing the dots, and not enough focus on connecting those dots, or is it merely the effect that major corporations have on their adult employees? If it's the latter, unemployment has just become very attractive. (I should add that most of my eikaiwa students work at big companies. I assume that more creative, rebellious, opinionated individuals gravitate towards other jobs; or have learned to remain quiet to not rock the fune.)

I've made a few sweeping statements. I'm ready to be attacked! Grin.

PS: I've just realized I grumbled about the grumbling, and then spent the rest of the post grumbling.

Confíteor Deo omnipoténti
et vobis, fratres,

quia peccávi nimis
cogitatióne, verbo,
ópere et omissióne:
mea culpa, mea culpa,
mea máxima culpa.

Bonus

This video isn't on YouTube, so I can't embed it, but it's about mixed (or bi-cultural, or international, whichever you prefer) couples: one is Japanese, one is not. It's mostly Japanese woman and non-Japanese man, but I've long since accepted that this combination gets the most attention in Western media. Just to put things into perspective, this excerpt from Wikipedia:

In 2006 there were 735,132 marriages in Japan, of which 40,154 involved a foreign bride, and 8,708 involved a foreign groom. Foreign-born women who married a Japanese-born man were predominantly born in the Philippines (12,150), China (12,131), Korea (6,041), Thailand (1,676) and Brazil (285). Foreign-born men who married a Japanese-born woman were predominantly born in Korea (2,335), the United States (1,474), China (1,084), UK (386) and the Philippines (195).

Happy 1st anniversary, Sky Tree!

Tome-ishi, the stones that forbid entry

Every time I see one of these stones, I'm reminded of that famous scene in The Lord of the Rings in which Gandalf faces the Balrog on the the Bridge of Khazad-dûm. "You shall not pass!" Gandalf thunders, and the Balrog tumbles into the abyss.

Japan's solution is less dramatic: a stones is wrapped in rope and placed neatly in the middle of a path or in front of a gate. They're called "stop stones" (止め石 tome-ishi) or "barrier guarding stones" (sekimori-ishi  関守石), and they indicate that entry is forbidden. You'll usually find them at temples, near tea houses or in traditional Japanese gardens.

Only in Japan could a single stone fulfil that function! (Mind you, you might be stopped by a stone in South Africa as well, but it would be hurled at your head.)

Please pardon me for indulging myself for a few seconds. While I was researching it, I came across this Dutch website, and I enjoyed the Dutch so much that I want to repeat it here:

Een steen kruislings omwonden met touw en een mooie knoop bovenop, staat zomaar midden in de toegangsweg of splitsing van paden in deze klassieke Japanse theetuin. Wat nu te doen? Er overheen stappen of … Op deze manier maakt men op een subtiele wijze duidelijk dat het niet de bedoeling is de weg te vervolgen of het afgebakende pad in te slaan. Men zal een ander pad moeten kiezen.

Translation: "There, in the middle of a path, lies a stone wrapped in a rope with a beautiful knot on top. What are you supposed to do now? Step over it or … No, it's a subtle indication that you're not meant to follow this particular path. You'll just have to find another way."

I miss Dutch and Afrikaans. Anyway.

It's not difficult to make a tome-ishi. Ideally you should use a rock that's flat-ish at the bottom so that it remains stable, but nicely rounded at top. The rope should be made of bracken (蕨 warabi) or an indigenous hemp palm (シュロ shuro).

  

It's much nicer than a blunt NO ENTRY sign, isn't it? The only problem is that it isn't always effective. I took the photos below at Demboin, the residence of the head priest of Sensō-ji, which was created in the early seventeenth century by the tea master Kobori Enshū. The garden is private, but it was opened to the public in April this year.

This gentlemen blithely ignored stones, written signs and barriers. I know he's old and I respect his advanced years, but ai tog, oupa (oh dear, ojiisan), there are plenty of other places to sit in the garden!

I couldn't help grinning, though, after shaking my head and grimacing. I'm already looking forward to being insufferably rude when I'm an old woman, so I can't judge others, can I?

If you want to read more about tome-ishi, I found this delightful Japanese website.

Stalking Sky Tree

There's this tower. It's rather big. You can't not see it if you live in the shitamachi. If I turn my head 90 degrees as I type this, it's right there, looming on the eastern horizon.

You'd think that I see enough of it, but you'd be wrong. I like stalking it from different angles and shooting it. Oy. I'm from Africa. I'm a hunter.

Click on the photos to see much bigger versions.

During Golden Week I launched a south-eastern approach, attacking it from its flank, as it were. I started walking at Higashi-Ōjima Station in Kōtō-ku and followed the Kyūnakagawa (旧中川), which forms the border between Sumida-ku and Edogawa-ku. When it got a bit boring, in other words industrial, I veered off and returned to Hirai Station. It's a very easy, very pleasant walk along some of the shitamachi's lesser known waterways, and you can watch rowers practising along the rivers and canals. (Sarah, I don't know if they were paddling or rowing or canoeing. They were in an object that floated on water and they were propelling themselves along with sticks. OK?) [Sarah is from Canada. She knows about boaty matters.]

That's it. That's all I have to say. Let's look at more pictures.

PS: I wrote a more detailed post about Kōtō-ku's rivers here.

PS: You are allowed to tease me about my Sky Tree obsession. I will grin and agree with you.

This is how Sky Tree greeted me very early in the morning.

Getting ready for some action

Getting closer

Graffiti

I parked myself under a small tree and soaked up sun, silence and solitude.

Aren't we looking mighty fine this morning?

This is where the Kitajukkengawa (北十間川) joins the Kyūnakagawa.

It started getting a bit blah around here, but there were plenty of rowers to watch.

This factory made me decide to return home.

Last view

I think they're rowing, not paddling, but please ask Sarah.

Hi-tech rowing

View Kyunakagawa walk in a larger map

Kannon, the god that protects you against senility

Going a bit doolally, doddering and ditzy? Despair not. Kannon, deity of mercy and compassion, can help you.

Kannon (観音) is based on an Indian god called Valokitêśvara, a Sanskrit term that can be translated as "the lord who regards all". The originally male god gradually assumed characteristics of both genders, and eventually became associated with the divine feminine or divine mother. Nowadays, in Japan, Kannon statues usually have female features. That's why, mainly for simplicity's sake, I will use a female pronoun to refer to this deity.

Kannon statues usually have a beautiful, serene face.

She's one of the most popular gods in Japan, but I had zero interest in her, probably because I've never had much time for girly or motherly things. No, my attention was occupied by Inari and his fox messengers; as well as Jizō in his role as protector of travellers; but then I discovered a modern form of Kannon that's related to Japan's rapidly greying society. She's called Bokefūji¹ Kannon (呆け封じ観音), and she's supposed to protect you against senility, dementia and Alzheimer's.

As such, she often appears at so-called pokkuri-dera (ポックリ寺), temples where you can pray for a sudden or painless death.

The possibility of senility is a serious and growing problem in Japan, where 20% of the population is currently 65+. It's estimated that 40% of the population will be 65+ in 2055. This change²  is taking place in a shorter time span than in any other country. I try not to think about it,³ but it's super-scary: never mind the increase in sharp-elbowed obachan, how on earth will Japan provide pensions and health care for these multitudes?

It's easy to recognize a Bokefūji Kannon statue: if often has an elderly pair kneeling at its feet in a plea for mercy. The four photos below were taken at Tōfuku-ji (東福寺) in Higashi-Kawaguchi.

Kannon pilgrimages have an old history in Japan and remain very popular. They often comprise a visit to 33 Kannon temples in a certain area, because it's said that Kannon can appear in 33 different forms. The three most famous pilgrimages are probably the Saigoku Junrei in Kansai, the Bandō Junrei in Kanto and the Chichibu Junrei in Saitama.

It's too time-consuming to do such an official pilgrimage; instead, I rather haphazardly visited a few Kannon temples that aren't necessarily linked to a bigger circuit. I'll include photos taken at Saikō-in (西光院) and Tōfuku-ji (東福寺) in Higashi-Kawaguchi, and Tōfuku-ji (東福寺) in Higashi-Tokorozawa.

Saikō-in

Tōfuku-ji in Higashi-Kawaguchi

Plethora of statues at Tōfuku-ji in Higashi-Kawaguchi

The two Kawaguchi temples, and to a lesser extent the Tokorozawa one, made me grin. It's almost as if somebody had a check list of "stuff that should be present at any temple that wants to cover all possible calamities".

We start with Buddha in various forms.

We should have Niō, the muscular guardians of Buddha, because Buddha himself needs protection, probably against sharp-elbowed obachan. The ones below were photographed at Tōfuku-ji in Higashi-Kawaguchi.

Kannon for mercy is important.

We mustn't forget Jizō for mothers and children; as a matter of fact, let's go for lots and lots and lots of statues of Jizō, because he's cute.

Jizō at Saikō-in

Jizō at Tōfuku-ji in Higashi-Kawaguchi (above and below)

Kōbō-Daishi because, well, he's Kōbō-Daishi.4 Reason enough. 

 

Emma, lord of the underworld, because we need protection everywhere. Especially, I guess, in the underworld.

Emma, lord of the underworld, at Saikō-in 

We can't go wrong with the seven lucky gods for health, wealth, longevity, etc etc etc. I've highlighted Hotei, the god of laughter and happiness, because he's my favourite; and Ebisu, the god of fishermen, because there's one specific fisherman who's rather important to me. The stone ones at the top are at Saikō-in; the bronze ones at the bottom are at Tōfuku-ji in Higashi-Kawaguchi.

The seven lucky gods at Saikō-in

What about the four heavenly kings, the guardians of the four compass directions? We should include them.

The four heavenly kings at Tōfuku-ji in Higashi-Kawaguchi

Let's add frog statues, thanks to a play on words. Kaeru 蛙 is frog, but kaeru 帰る also means to return, in others words return home, return safely, return to youth, money will return to you, etc.

Saikō-in

Tōfuku-ji in Higashi-Kawaguchi

Finally, somebody at Saikō-in decided, "Oh, what the heck, let's throw in Ryōan-ji's tsukubai." This tsukubai or stone water basin is famous for its four kanji, 吾 唯 足 知 (ware tada taru shiru), which could be read to mean "what you have is all you need".

The tsukubai at Saikō-in

This statue at Tōfuku-ji in Higashi-Kawaguchi made me wince. It's a copy of the so-called Fasting Siddhartha (links here and here). He made me want to give him chocolate ice cream.

Fasting Siddhartha at Saikō-in

Tōfuku-ji in Higashi-Tokorozawa led me on a merry dance, which you can read about here. I finally hunted down the temple on my second attempt. It's a very quiet, slightly battered (or shall we say well-weathered?) temple that I found interesting mostly for its Fudō-myōō hill behind the main temple. All the photos below were taken at this temple.

  

Fudō-myōō (不動明王) means "immovable wisdom king". That "immovable" refers to his ability to remain unmoved by temptation, and his role is to teach self-control. He's a fierce guy who's often accompanied by 36 attendants called dōji (童子), and on this particular hill you can see statues of all 36. I didn't count them, but if the temple says there are 36, I bet that's exactly how many there are.

I've startled rambling in seven different directions, as I tend to do. Let's stop right here with a reminder that if you want to remain compos mentis, Kannon is the go-to guy. Girl. I fear it's too late for me, but you young 'uns should consider a little pilgrimage.

Important question

Why are Kannon statues so often so big? Does anybody know? Incidentally, if I made a mistake in identifying any of these statues, please yell. I'm not an expert!

Reminder to self

Maybe each temple deserves its own post. They're quite quirky.

Notes

1) Bokefūji roughly means "Alzheimer's containment".

2) It's referred to as kōreikashakai (高齢化社会) in Japanese.

3) So, apparently, do politicians, who are doing everything possible to protect pensions and hence the elderly vote instead of making it easier for younger people to have children. Sometimes I look at my students, and I shudder when I think of the world that awaits them.

4) These statues, ubiquitous at temples, are referred to as "warding off evil" or "good luck" Daishi statues (厄除大師像 yakuyoke Daishi zō).