Category: experiences

It was a wonderful day today, the warmest so far, with a peak of 20 degrees. It seems there is a little heatwave this week, that’s fine with me – it will make the spring come a bit faster, so far there is not much to see about it… As I had to pick up something in the city, I went out and along the river, and there were many people enjoying the sun, even though it was a normal working day.

But, when I was walking along the river and enjoying the sun I suddenly realized that my feelings had changed. Nothing to do with spring though 😉 but more with the fact that now I’m approaching the whole Japan thing more seriously. I have a plan now, and things to do to put it in action. I have regular appointments, not just casual ones with friends who won’t mind if I show up later. I have places I need to go to, people I need to see, not just days where I walk around aimlessly to see what awaits me or sit at Yoshida shrine reading for hours. It feels very different from last year, but it also feels good to have a purpose and a goal again. I do not regret spending all the time last year on and with myself, it was necessary to find out what I wanted, and I think I should have done it much earlier.

But now, honeymoon is over. The realities of marriage can begin.

On the train to Osaka last week, I sat opposite a young woman. She was casually dressed and carried a large shoulder bag that she had placed on her lap. As such, it was nothing out of the ordinary, and I did not pay much attention to her at first.

When I put down my book, however, I noticed the writing on her bag – it appeared to be from the front page of an old French newspaper – and I felt oddly offended. The article said something about von Ribbentrop signing the non-aggression pact with Russia and I went “HUH?”. It’s history of WWII, or rather its beginnings, August 24th, 1939 to be precise, and it felt very odd seeing any such reference being used to spruce up an accessory. I realize that the young woman probably did not know the meaning of the French and the historical significance behind the headline, and probably neither did the bag’s designer. Hence, I would assume that there was no offense intended by either of them.

For myself, I cannot explain what exactly caused the uneasy feeling about the bag: Is it that talking about WWII is still somewhat taboo in Austria and always comes with mixed feelings? That my grandparents lived through it and the few tales they did tell about it were no pretty ones? Or was it simply the thoughtlessness behind the act? I thought about that for a while and I still have no answer…

One thing that keeps baffling me after all the years in Asia are working hours. I’m not talking about those seemingly 12 hour days you have to spend in the office. Seemingly they are indeed, because often it is a question of “warm body on chair” rather than being productive throughout. A colleague of mine, for example, upon returning from lunch, would reach for the large pillow in his drawer, put it on the desk and then take a nap for an hour or so, all openly and undisturbed by anybody else in the office. Surely there is a huge peer pressure going on in such a case – you have to be there before your supervisor and cannot leave before she does. In Japan, there is even a fixed phrase that is employed when leaving before anyone else: Minna-san, osaki ni shitsurei shimasu, which essentially means that you are sorry to be so rude to leave early.

Anyway, these are big companies. But even small businesses seem to have interesting hours. For example, when I returned to Ebisu’s from Europe, one of the faucets in the bathroom was leaking badly. I informed the landlady and she called a plumber to come by and at least have a look at the problem. For a week nothing happened, except that we had to keep the front door unlocked so the plumber could enter at any time. Finally, when I left the house yesterday afternoon to go the library, there he was, rummaging around in the bathroom, fixing the faucet – on a Sunday afternoon at 1:30 pm… Strange working hours indeed…

I had a most exciting afternoon today…

First I went to an appointment with my (future) business partner, and for about 2 hours we were discussing how, when, and what, and if we needed a plan B and what it would be. Afterwards he asked me whether I was free in the afternoon, and when I said yes, we went to see a friend of his in town.

The friend turned out to be a woodblock print artist – and, just so that you know: I love woodblock prints!

The idea of a woodblock print is simple: You carve a design into a block of wood, paint it in a single colour and print the design (or rather, its negative) onto paper. Each colour of the picture gets its own carving, so you need at least as many woodblocks as you want colours in the finished image, and the image slowly grows layer by layer, colour by colour during the printing process.

We spent several hours in the gallery/workshop, and I got to ask all sorts of questions: How exactly does he make the prints, how many carved blocks does he need for one finished image, what is the colour he is using, how long does it take for a design to be completely finished, can he really recreate a print he has made before, how does he trace the design onto the woodblocks, what paper is he using… I was very eager to ask all those questions and find out all the details and he seemed to be equally happy to answer them. Finally I was so bold as to ask whether I could see some of his actual carved woodblocks – and he picked up a whole package of an old design from his storage in the first floor. I was – and still am – extremely excited, as I said, I love woodblock prints!

By the way, the artist’s name is Masahiko Honjo and his homepage is here: http://www.eonet.ne.jp/~marugo/index.html

I will not go into further details about woodblock printing in this post – this topic deserves an elaborate and well researched Saturday posting – but here is one of my favourite prints from one of my favourite artists, Hashiguchi Goyo.

When I first came here, I wrote about the difficulties in finding my way around in the tiny little alleys of the neighborhood and remarked about the problems of finding a particular address without a map or detailed directions. Since then I have found out that there are actually maps posted at various, seemingly random, places that show the immediate neighborhood. They depict – often in a charming, apparently handdrawn style – street names and houses and temple boundaries, and the name of the family occupying a particular house. They are often posted next to a signboard with (local) advertisements or event posters and other information.So, to find your way around in a strange neighborhood when looking for a particular address, all you have to do is to locate the appropriate neighborhood map. How to accomplish that is something I will find out eventually.

Japanese people of all ages spend an enormous amount of money to learn English. Hundreds, if not thousands of (native!) English speakers are sought every year to teach the language – from pre-school immersion kindergarden song-and-games to specialized classes for employees of a certain company. And still, when you go out and about, the amount of Engrish you will encounter is striking.

Engrish is the noun describing the English – or rather the mistakes – that many Asian people make; so chosen because it is very hard for Japanese and Chinese to distinguish between the sounds of L and R. Some people even say they cannot hear the difference at all – which makes correct pronunciation virtually impossible. Katakana – the way of writing foreign words – which often has to insert unnecessary U’s and O’s to keep the syllables intact – is no help either. But I don’t want to talk about spoken English, most people, once they dare talking to you, are perfectly understandable.

Engrish (here also Japlish) is more often used to describe written English that can be found on many signs all over the place. It can range from the occasionally switched L/R to the literally translated sign; from the advertisement in Engrish-gibberish to the funnily offending T-shirt. Here is only one example: A common mistake that has since become a personal pet-peeve of mine is the sign OPEN – CLOSE at shop entrances… I have seriously considered patronizing only those where the final D is correctly in place, but that would limit my choices too much. One thing I have made my peace with by now is the sign at my favourite French bakery (and many others) which advertises “Chou a la creme” in Katakata that are pronounced “shoe cream”… It helps to assume that this is simply the way those things are called over here.

Other translations and loan words can be funny too. Arubaito (often shortened to baito) means part-time work, and comes from Arbeit, the German word for (full-time) work. A bike is always a motorized two-wheeler, the ones where you have to pedal yourself are called jitensha. A sign saying Happy Merry Christmas I considered almost embarrassing, but the funniest sign I have ever seen was in the window of a small shop advertising “obi body bags“. Remember that an obi is the wide belt worn with kimono, often made from exquisite cloth that can be very expensive. A friend of mine later explained that a body bag is not something containing a recently deceased, but is rather a type of obi that has a zipper somewhere so it can be put on more easily, much like a western style belt. Isn’t it nice to enlarge your horizon…

Often, English signs are simply a way to attract attention. The majority of the writing is still done in Kanji and Katakana, so English advertisements in Romaji stand out much more. I have heard that many Japanese are aware of the mistakes, but they deem them unimportant and ignore them, they don’t even read the signs. I still do, however, and what annoys me greatly – and probably will for the rest of my life – are signs like this one: This is a sign advertising rice cookers. Each of the different models has a sign like this, and let me assure you: none of them make sense in English, nor do they make sense in Chinese (according to a friend). All you can hope for is that they make sense in Japanese… Such things infuriate me because this is not a tiny shop in some back street, this is a sign at Yodobashi Camera, a national electronics chain with 22 stores. I have found numbers that in 2011 they had a revenue of about 9 billion US$ – and with all that money they cannot afford two freelancers doing their translations?

Anyway, to end this post on a nice and positive note, there are lots of funny examples of Engrish all over the internet. Here is only one page: Engrish.com, with pictures of real, live Engrish from all over Asia. The webpage is a major time suck though – beware! Don’t say I didn’t warn you!

When I took the photos of the newlyweds last Sunday at Heian shrine, something strange happened: At some point the groom took out a mask of a white fox and held it in front of the bride’s face. In her white robes, it had a quite striking effect: A bit later, he put the mask on the back of his own head. Not knowing what to make of this, I asked the father of the bride for the meaning of this. He explained that the (white) fox was the messenger of Inari, the god of rice (read: wealth, read: money) and as such, this gesture is meant to bring wealth to the couple. The main shrine dedicated to Inari – Fushimi Inari Taisha – lies in the South of Kyoto, so this explanation does make sense, but to be honest, I am unconvinced.

In Japanese folklore, the fox is generally considered a rather mischievous fellow, although he is capable of good deeds as well. A housemate said there was a story of a man marrying a beautiful woman – who in the end turned out to be a fox in disguise, with not so healthy consequences for the husband. The internet is surprisingly quiet about this though, I could find only find the old story The foxes’ wedding, but this is about a happpy wedding of two “real” foxes leading to lots of offspring – in a sense supporting the wealth theory. I could also find a saying that a foxes’ wedding takes place when there is rain during sunshine. Finally, a friend of mine from Tokyo sent an email to a local shrine asking for clarification, but there the custom appears to be unknown.

If anybody has a suggestion as to the meaning of the fox mask, please do let me know!