All Things Japanese – Page 34

Cat Cafe

I am sure you have heard about the Japanese speciality of cat cafes. They are normal cafes housing a number of cats that are allowed to roam freely and interact with the guests. The idea is to provide people who are not allowed to keep pets, with some sort of outlet and the possibility to feel like a cat owner for a short time.

Well, since I am a wannabe cat owner, and since I am not allowed to keep a cat in this apartment, and since I am thus feeling rather cat deprived, I went to one of Kyoto’s cat cafes this afternoon.

The first thing I noticed when I entered was the warmth – this must have been the most overheated place in Japan – and the rather distinctive smell of kitty litter. There was an extra door at the entrance to prevent the cats escaping through the main entrance. I had to take off my shoes, wash my hands, and indicate how long I was planning to stay before I could get further inside. When seated, I was shown a “how to behave” list: No flash photography allowed, no harassing of the cats (or other guests), and a warning that the cats may scratch and that there may be cat hair in my tea. And then, finally, I was left to roam around freely and to interact with the cats. The place was well adapted to the cats’ needs: fluffy cushions and blankets, boxes of all sizes, high shelves to hide upon, plenty of cat toys, and sufficient litter boxes. The only weird thing was the aquarium with the single goldfish inside. Cat TV, I presume?

The cats were gorgeous. There were three young kittens in a little extra stall with extra charge and 15 adult cats in the main part of the cafe. The animals were of all colours and races – Russian Blue, Scottish Fold, Persian, and an amazing Norwegian Forest cat, among others. Unfortunately, I arrived at nap time, and all the cats were asleep. They were friendly and could be petted still, but I prefered to let them rest. Only when my hour was over, did they come to life again – and I felt a bit cheated, to be honest.

It seemed that the cats were well taken care of. Their coats were shiny and well-groomed in case of the long-haired cats, and although one was allowed to feed them, this was only possible with the food provided by the shop, a wise decision. Behind the counter there were some crates into which the cats would be placed at times to avoid overstimulation by the patrons. As for those, I expected the guests to be a bunch of elderly cat ladies like myself, but there were mostly young couples, which surprised me.

I spent a pleasant hour there, but next time I will go a bit later, after nap time. It is rather expensive – 1 hour there costs 1500 YEN, including one set of drinks and sweets – but if you’re really into cats, this is the place to go:
http://animalcafes.com/v/25475.html

Kenkoku Kinen No Hi

Today is a national holiday, the National Foundation Day. I have written about this last year, so instead of repeating the details, I give you a beautiful image instead, made by Eitaku Kobayashi (1843 – 1890). It shows how the gods Izanami and Izanagi churn the waters of the ocean with a spear to make the very first island of Japan. Those two are among Japanese earliest deities, and their union eventually produced the whole Japanese archipelago as well as most of the other Japanese gods.

Nioi Bukuro

I recently received a Japanese nioi bukuro scent bag as a gift. The name, literally “bag of odors”, says it all: it’s a little bag made from cloth containing a variety of herbs.

Nioi bukuro were introduced to Japan – like so many other things – by Buddhist priests some time in the 8th century. At this time, Buddhist rituals began to spread, and the use of incense and other fragrances became popular in the nobility. Soon enough, cloth bags were filled with mixtures of incense and herbs that would emit a pleasant fragrance even at room temperature.

Depending on the herbal mixture, the nioi bukuro were used for different purposes: Small ones were worn around the neck or tucked into a kimono sleeve as sort of personal perfume. Larger ones containing sandalwood and cloves were put into clothing storage to scent the clothing and repel insects. Yet others, called kakeko (literally “hanging aroma”) were hung on walls in rooms, also with the intention of eliminating mosquitos and, according to an old belief, to protect that room from ill fortune.

Nioi bukuro are very easy to make. All you need is a small bag, preferably of silk, and the right number and type of herbs. A typical mix is the following:

sandalwood (3-4 tablespoons)
cloves (1 tablespoon)
star anise (1 tablespoon)
cinnamon (1 tablespoon)
camphor (1/2 – 1 tablespoon)
spikenard (a type of valerian from the Himalayas, 1/3 tablespoon)
galangal (a ginger-like plant, 1/3 tablespoon)
mint (Japanese perilla, 1/3 tablespoon)

Mix the herbs together and fill the bag with the mixture. Tie the bag with a string, and your nioi bukuro is ready for use. The smell will last for about a year.

Most nioi bukuro are simple bags, but they also come shaped like little kimono. To the right is the one I got as a present. It is special, since it consists of cloth-covered sea shells, with the bag of incense inside.

Interestingly, nioi bukuro are still popular today. For example, kabuki actors are wearing the little bags in their kimono, but in a more modern twist, school girls like to put them in their gym bags.

Genji Monogatari

The Tale of Genji
Murasaki Shikibu

He is the son of the emperor’s favourite concubine. As such, he is too far down in the line of succession to every ascend to the throne, so his father removes him completely by making him a commoner and bestowing the name “Genji” onto him. Genji is nevertheless raised in the palace and is almost unanimously loved at court. Growing up, he shows many talents in writing poetry, calligraphy, music, and in charming women of all ranks. His numerous conquests get him banned from court twice. Twice does he have to settle in a remote area, twice even there women fall for his charms, and twice is he reinstated at court after a while. Genji is a lovable character, and although a womanizer, he always takes care of his lovers in one way or the other, even after the end of their relationship. Only the lady Murasaki (meaning purple) can capture his affections throughout her life, and Genji is heartbroken at her death and dies soon afterwards.

Genji Monogatari can be called a biography of a Japanese courtier of the 10th century. Although fictional, it depicts court life in great detail: its intricate politeness (never use personal names), its unbelievable etiquette (unrelated men and women are always separated by screens), and its numerous festivals and ceremonies. The Tale of Genji is considered the earliest and finest example of Japanese literature.

The book was written by a lady-in-waiting of the Heian court in Kyoto. Not much is certain about her, not even her real name, so she is named after the main female character in the book, Murasaki Shikibu.

I found Genji Monogatari a worthwhile book, but rather difficult to read, it took me about three months. There is not much going on, it is a biography after all, but the immense number of characters, most of which are never referred to by name, but rather by their ever changing ranks at court, makes the story difficult to follow at times. I have read the unabridged translation by Royall Tyler from 2001 containing lots of footnotes that help understanding the implicit intricacies of the time, but sometimes you still have to remind yourself that the conversation recorded could not have taken place like this, but was conducted either in written letters or with servants as go-betweens.

Check this book out on amazon.

Nabe

On Christmas Day, which I spent in Nagoya, my friend’s mother prepared nabe, a typical Japanese winter dish. It is a hot pot, where you start out with water and kelp or maybe a thin soup, boil it on the table and add various other ingredients. Similar to cheese fondue, the finished meal is eaten directly from the pot.

Obviously, there are many different types of nabe, but I have chosen a fish-vegetable nabe that I prepared with another friend a while ago for you to try out.

Recipe for Nabe à la Junko san
(for 2 people)

– 750 ml water – 1 piece of kelp
Put the water into the pot, add the kelp and start heating the water.

– 1/2 Chinese cabbage
– 2 spring onions
– 1 carrot
– 1 medium-sized Japanese white radish
Cut the above in small pieces and add to the pot. Let them boil slowly – at about 160 degrees – for a while.

– 1 pack of konyaku noodles
Add to the pot when the vegetables are about half done.

– 2 medium-sized pieces of codfish (any white fish is good, since it has no strong taste and does not smell)
– 4 large shrimp
– 1 pack of tofu
Cut the fish and tofu in smaller pieces, add to the pot when the vegetables are almost done.

When the shrimp have turned red and the fish is cooked, you can start eating. Nabe is usually served with rice, and the vegetables and fish are dipped in ponzu (soy sauce mixed with vinegar or lemon juice) before eating, partly as seasoning and partly to cool them off. The noodles are eaten last, together with the soup resulting from the cooking.

Kagami Biraki

As promised a week ago, I actually did eat the kagami mochi yesterday, on the day of kagami biraki, the breaking of the mirror. When I opened the package, the mochi appeared clean with a shiny surface and a consistency a bit like that of a wax candle. It also had a similar taste, so that did not bode well for my cooking experiment.

Friends suggested that I cut off the hard outer shell of the mochi, but since I had left it in the package, it was clean and comparatively soft, so I did not do this. I did cut the two layers apart though, although I have read somewhere that cutting the mochi at all should be avoided for some reasons clouded in superstition. As I have a gas range, I could at least cook the mochi the recommended way – by simply frying it over open fire. In the beginning it was too hard to put a chopstick through, so I just stuck it onto a knife and held it over the flames.

For a while nothing happened, but then I could hear some crackling sound and the outer shell started to crack and crumble. Small pieces could be torn off and they were nice and crisp – and hot – and the inner part of the mochi was soft and sticky. Soon this part dried out and became crispy as well, so it was a little like eating chips.

While the consistency did improve, the taste did not, unfortunately. I had anticipated this and had prepared a nice salad to go with it, so it was fine. In hindsight, I should have probably put some soy sauce onto the mochi pieces before eating them, but obviously only a real Japanese would think of that. No photo of the finished meal this time, since I was busy frying and eating and I have not yet grown a third arm to hold a camera at the same time. Maybe next time…

Uji

Uji is a small city between Kyoto and Nara with about 185.000 inhabitants. It lies on the Uji river, an important waterway of olden times, which one can travel up until Lake Biwa. The first settlement in Uji was established in the 4th century, and in the 7th century the first bridge across the river was built.

The town, with its mountains coming up to the river, was a popular destination for outings of the nobility that lived in Kyoto and served in the palace there. The last ten chapters of the most famous Japanese novel – the Genji Monogatari, which was written around 1000 CE – take place in Uji. Some people claim it was even written there when Murasaki Shikibu retreated to a monastery for a while, but then others dispute her having written those chapters altogether. There are at least two statues of Murasaki near the river, and a museum devoted entirely to the Genji Monogatari.The most famous attraction of Uji, however, is Byodo-in temple. It was originally a villa, built in 998 by a high-ranking court official, but only some 50 years later it was turned into a Buddhist temple by his son. The main hall or Phoenix hall, is supposed to resemble the palace in the Land of Happiness. It is a bit hard to see in the photo below, but the building is essentially a T-shaped structure, where the left and right parts of the horizontal stroke represent the wings, and the vertical stroke the tail of a phoenix. Where the two strokes meet, the head of the bird is supposed to be, and there is placed a large statue of Amida Buddha.Byodo-in was designated as UNESCO World Heritage in 1994, and an image of it is prominently featured on the 10 YEN coin. One of the phoenixes on the roof – national treasures, by the way – is depicted on the 10.000 YEN bill of Japan. There is a large museum in Byodo-in showing Buddhist art that was made for and used in the temple. Even if you don’t buy the extra ticked to get you into the main hall, you can still get a feeling for how it would look inside.On crossing the river, there are the two main shrines of Uji, the Uji shrine at the bank of the river, and the Ujigami shrine a bit up the hill. Until the Meiji restoration, they were a unit, but now they are separate entities; and in 1994, Ujigami shrine was also registered as UNESCO World Heritage.

Both the prayer hall of the shrine – the image right below – as well as the main hall are Japanese national treasures. Ujigami shrine, built around 1060 as a guardian shrine to Byodo-in temple, is the oldest original shinto shrine in Japan, quite a feat in a country where many so-called ancient buildings have burnt down and were rebuilt several times.

Another thing Uji is famous for its green tea. It is one of the first places of Japan where matcha green tea was cultivated, and from the 12th century until today, the quality is excellent. On the road from Uji station to Byodo-in temple, there are numerous shops that sell anything tea related, be it ever so vaguely: matcha chocolate and cookies, matcha Baumkuchen and soba,… but also utensils for Japanese tea ceremony, and cups and beakers. There are numerous different types of green tea, of course, from the cheap daily varieties to the expensive ones served only at tea ceremonies on special occasions. But, this is a topic for another time…

Cheap

My accountant visited my office today and finished taxes for last year. Japan seems to have a rather complicated system as to when you have to pay what and to whom:

There are corporate taxes to be paid to three different tax offices: the national, the prefectural, and the city tax office. The paperwork has to be filed one month after the end of the company’s fiscal year, and the money must be paid within 3 months of the end of the fiscal year, which in my case makes the latter date some time in May.

Then there is social security – health insurance and pension – for which you have to file the paperwork on 31st of July. Labour insurance is separate from this and has to be filed by the 10th of July. As I don’t have employees, I can choose whether I pay this myself or via the company; paying it myself means that this is cheaper for the time being, so I’ll keep doing this as long as possible.

And then there is personal or employee income tax which we have just finished to calculate. Just like everywhere else, there is an employer’s share and an employee’s share. Usually, the employer withholds both parts each month and the employee only gets the net amount and does not have to worry about anything. And usually, the employer pays those taxes to the tax office each month.

But, Japan is different! What is happening is that my company withholds the employer’s tax contribution each month from the salary of my employee – myself. The company now collects all those taxes and is only required to pay it to the tax office twice a year – on January 20th and July 10th. And the employee has to pay their share individually once a year, and again, there is the national tax due in February and the prefectural and city tax due in June.

Are you confused now? Me too! I’m very happy my accountant has it all under control. And I am even more happy about the results concerning the employer’s contribution for last year, since I only have to pay some 2000 YEN employer’s contribution, and some 4000 YEN employee’s contribution. Now, talk about cheap!

Japanese New Year Traditions

There must be a million and one New Year’s traditions in Japan, and I have resolved to try at least one new one each year. I did not ring any bells this (or rather: last) year, but I did go out to Shimogamo Shrine for hatsumode, and I bought a new general luck and happiness charm there for this year. On top of that, I have bought a kagami mochi this year:

It generally consists of two layers of flattened mochi rice cakes, a Japanese bitter orange called daidai on top, and is decorated at least with a two-coloured bow that is considered lucky. The two mochi pieces are supposed to symbolise the old and new year, the moon and the sun, or yin and yang; whereas the daidai symbolises the continuation of a family from one generation to the next. My friends simply said that the two layers of mochi are meant to double the luck that comes into the household.

Kagami mochi are sold at the end of the year and are usually displayed in the household’s shinto altar until January 11th, when they are ritually broken apart in a ceremony called kagami biraki and are eaten. This is meant to ask the gods for good fortune during the coming year. Yes, the mochi are edible and according to my friends you just cut off the hard (and probably dusty) outer part and then fry them and that they are quite tasty – as far as mochi go, I guess.

Kagami mochi can have different sizes, the largest ones are usually those placed at the altars of shrines. Mine is a rather small affair, and the daidai on top is made from plastic. As you can see, the whole thing is wrapped in plastic as well, which is a good thing because I placed it near my entrance (I don’t have a shinto altar in my home) and I do indeed intend to try and eat it!

With the new year comes a new format for the blog. Since I have started working and am rather busy, I have much less time to go out and have fun with the Japanese and their culture. And I think that writing about my daily routines is quite dull (one reason I never kept a diary), and so is reading about it. So, I will reduce my personal posts to two per week, on Tuesdays and Thursdays. However, I will restart my weekend posts about all things Japanese that are hopefully of more general interest. I hope you’ll keep enjoying the blog!

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year of the monkey everybody!
May the new year make all your dreams come true!

I continue to embrace Japanese traditions. The above is the nengajo New Year’s card I sent out this, or rather: last year. I cannot ascertain this, but apparently the long stroke leading to the right symbolises the tail of the monkey… It was hard to find a card that I considered serious enough, monkeys obviously inspire people’s silliness. For example, I found a nengajo showing a banana – and nothing else… A bit too much silliness for me, to be honest.

Since this year I also (had to) send nengajo to business connections (essentially my lawyer and my accountant), I asked a Japanese friend how to do them properly. Well, the right hand corner of the front has to show one of the standard phrases, and the addresses on the back (both mine and the one of the recipient) have to be written in Kanji as well… I only wrote eight cards this year, but for these reasons I laboured for more than 2 hours! I have received some nengajo today as well, and as I can see that my business connections printed their cards, I will consider this as an option for next year.