experiences – Page 59 – goinggaijin.com

Ring

Towards the end of the year, people all over the world like to reminiscence about the year that has passed. Of the Year is an important phrase in this time, and it is added to words like employee, woman, man, person, word, book, movie,… So, let me, without any further ado, present to you the Kanji of the Year 2013:

It means ring or wheel and is pronounced as rin or wa, depending on the context. The main reason this character was chosen was that this year, Tokyo has won the bid for the Summer Olympic Games in 2020, something the Japanese are extremely proud of.

Interestingly, choosing a Kanji of the Year is not something invented 1000 years ago! The first such event dates back only to 1995, yes, that’s not even 20 years; this ceremony must feel like the baby amongst all the others celebrated in Japan… 😉 However, it is a very nice ceremony sponsored and organised by the Japanese Kanji Proficiency Society, a private organisation that encourages the use and knowledge of Kanji. People are invited to send in their choice for the Kanji of the Year, and the one with the most votes (this year 9,518 out of 170,290 votes) is then announced, that is, written on a large white board, by the head priest of Kiyomizu temple in Kyoto each year on Kanji Day, December 12. I went there with a friend to see the ceremony, and it was virtually impossible. At 11:30, the best spots were already taken by journalists, and the not so good spots were guarded by a private security company that told people to move on… We finally secured a place on a viewing platform a little further away and waited in the cold until the ceremony began at 2 pm. Once again, everything was over very quickly. The head priest came, and quickly wrote down the kanji with a brush as thick as my arm (see the first photo above). After a short wait so all journalists could take their pictures, the board was brought into the temple where a small ceremony was conducted. Afterwards, the board was taken out again to take more pictures with the head priest and other celebrities (this was the time for me to sneak up and take my close ups) and then, after maybe half an hour, even before all the journalists had left, everything was taken away and cleaned up again. The whole event was broadcast live on TV; there were even two TVs set up at the temple so people could watch the ceremony at least second hand, and my friend, a distinguished but not unapproachable looking foreigner, was interviewed twice and asked for his opinion on the choice.

I enjoyed being there, despite the long wait and my frozen toes afterwards. I’m not sure if I’d want to come again next year as I hate being cold, but having my own photos of the event is certainly a nice thing.

Commerce

Today, I wrote Christmas cards to a (very small) number of my friends. It’s about two weeks to go and I’m not in any sort of Christmas mood, to be honest. Part of it is that I’m not religious and that for years already I didn’t receive any presents I hadn’t bought myself. Another part is that Japan does not really lend itself to the Christmas mood: It does not snow (here in Kyoto at least) until well into January if at all, the Japanese are not Christians, nor is there a sizable foreign community that is celebrating it, and the big Japanese thing – New Year’s – is just another week down the line.

It’s not completely ignored either though. A few private houses here do have Christmas decorations (of the gaudy American variety), and through an open window I could see a Christmas tree in a living room last week already. Stores are different of course. Even very small ones have at least some small Christmas decoration, and in the large shopping streets like Shijo or Teramachi or the big department stores like Daimaru and Takashimaya, they almost go overboard, again American style, including the annoying Christmas carols – I even heard the German “O Tannenbaum”…

Anyway, I didn’t even notice what was missing until my friend pointed it out while visiting the Loft yesterday when he said: “It’s all totally commercialized.” And he was right, there is no sense of tradition behind it all – because it is not a Japanese tradition. No baking cookies, no waiting for the snow, no hiding presents for the kids, no mulled wine, no “Adventskalender” or “Adventskranz” as we have it in Austria. It’s just about shopping and spending money. At least, they are totally honest about it…

Needles

I am not sure whether this is a genuinely Japanese thing, or if it is something of the Eastern culture in general, but I have to say, there are all sorts of … interesting religious ceremonies around… Yesterday I went to Horin-ji temple in the Arashiyama district of Kyoto, where a memorial service for needles was held, needles as in sewing needles. The ritual appears to date back to the Heian era, even today people bring their used or even broken needles to this temple and pray for better sewing skills and a happy family.

The ceremony took place in the main hall of the temple and started – after four women with colorful dresses and beautiful hair ornaments and a number of priests had entered and seated themselves – with a short performance of traditional music. Then, the head priest who was sitting in front of the altar started reading or rather chanting a long incantation or prayer in a loud voice. When he was finished the other priests placed themselves in front of the altar and, also chanting, threw little oval pieces of paper over their shoulders to the people sitting behind them. The paper was about the size of a palm and had an image of the Buddha on one side; apparently it is a charm and the way it is distributed is meant to resemble falling leaves. Anyway, those leaves were readily snatched up by the worshippers, and the dancers also distributed some. Their big performance was shortly afterwards, when they started dancing a very slow traditional dance to traditional music. When the dance was over – it started and ended with a bow to the altar – more chants were intonated, but all of a sudden and without warning, permission was given to start the actual needle ceremony: A number of large needles with colorful threads had been prepared as well as blocks of what I first thought was wax (it turned out to be much softer, like jelly, but I have no idea what it really was), and people were invited to take one of the needles and stick them into the blocks while saying their prayers. That was the main part of the ceremony, and most of the people left immediately afterwards. They did not hear the final piece of music or saw the women and priests clean up and leave. They also did not notice when two of the dancers returned to do their own needle ceremony. Once again, I found this very strange, but then again, the whole idea of a service for needles is a bit … special, isn’t it?

(T)issues

When I was studying last week in the library, I got reminded of one of the things I find most annoying about Japan (Asia in general to be fair). Libraries are quite popular in Japan, many people go there not only to borrow books and leave again, but also to read, study, or work there. It could be the attraction of warmth in winter and air condition in summer of course, but let’s not be cynical. Anyway, during my stay in the library there were a number of other students, some guy who seemed to do animation on his laptop, a couple of people reading. And there was this elderly man with a pile of very thick books in front of him doing what I would describe as “research”. And annoying the hell out of me…

While I was attempting to solve grammar puzzles in one of my timed tryout tests, he started sniffling, which is the most annoying sound imaginable, even if you’re not sitting only 3 metres away in what otherwise is total silence, trying to focus on something difficult. Clearly, the problem is not really a problem had the person been an (adult) Westerner: You simply blow your nose.

Unfortunately this is exactly the issue in Japan: Blowing your nose in public is on the same level as picking it in public in the Western world: completely rude and unacceptable. Thinking about it, I cannot help wondering why this is the case (for the blowing, I mean…) It’s not as if tissues were not readily available – they are often being offered for free as advertisement for shops or events. In winter, Kleenex are sold in large 6-packs, and readily snatched up by shoppers. I have admit that sometimes I have felt the sudden urge to yell “Don’t just buy them, use them too!” Also, especially the Japanese are very considerate and neat people where everything needs to be “just so” and offending others is a no-go. But this could be part of it: That everything coming out of the body, so to speak, is considered unclean and you cannot offend others with it, while making an effort (and annoying noise) not to blow your noise is considered less offensive.

Anyway, the solution could be so simple: Just go to the toilet, do your business and return – hopefully without sniffling for a while. Unfortunately again, the old Japanese man did not even dream of doing that, and probably even a Japanese would have difficulties finding a polite way of suggesting exactly that.

So, there I sat, trying to focus on my test rather than counting the seconds between the noise. I managed somehow not to explode (I am so proud) and after a while the sniffles were replaced with the rhythmic, almost inaudible sound of soft snoring – he had fallen asleep…

Afterthoughts

So, the big JLPT N4 test was yesterday, starting at 12:30 and ending at about 16:30. It took place a bit south of Kyoto in the Kyoto University of Education’s Fujinomori campus, but it was quite easy to reach. Two rooms were reserved for my level and there were 52 people in my room – a ratio of 50% Westerners 50% Asians by the way – so I guess there were 100 people on my level overall.

The test was conducted in a very strict, I’d almost say Japanese, manner. The room’s door was closed exactly on time, no way of being late even a single minute. First, general instructions were read: What was allowed on the table, phones off, etc. Then the answer sheets were handed out and afterwards the booklet with the questions for the first part. More instructions were given: “Check whether name and number on your answer sheet are correct. Now pick up your pencil and write your name and number on the question booklet.” Of course, all of those instructions were given in Japanese, which was, certainly on our level, of disputable usefulness. One hapless guy started to fill in his name the moment he received the question booklet and was promptly and loudly and in Japanese yelled at: “Put that pencil down. Put it down! NOW!” I could not help wondering if these people realized that we were all adults in there… After everything was explained, handed out and filled in, we had to wait for the exact minute the test was supposed to start, and after the allotted time was over, we were supposed to drop the pencil in that very second. We were only allowed to leave the room once all paper was collected, counted once and then again, just to be sure nothing went missing. And that three times with about 25 minutes break in between, until the final listening section was over and were free to leave. Results will be sent out in February next year.

How did I do? Well, I ran out of time in the first section and had to leave some questions unanswered – I didn’t even have time to fill in random answers. I may have done reasonably well on the reading section, but I was very tired and my mind started wandering during the listening part. Overall, I don’t think I made it.

There is this one question I remember that I’d like to share with you. It was in the vocabulary section where a sentence is given, and then there are four more sentences paraphrasing one of the words and you have to pick the answer sentence with the correct meaning. In this one the answers were:
I want a new bag and wallet.
I want a new desk and bed.
I want a new pen and notebook.
I want a new camera and video camera.
The question sentence was:
I want new *** – containing the only word in that whole part I didn’t know… And this, ladies and gentlemen, is how it is possible to know 90% of the stuff and still fail the exam.

Anyway, I will take today off – it will be a very nice and sunny day. I have chosen a direction and will take my camera for a walk. I’m curious as to what I’ll find this time…

Renewal

Three months have passed since my last visit to the hospital and today was my new appointment to get a refill of my pills. Actually I went to the hospital on Monday already to have the bloodwork done on time, but the experience was pretty much the same.

As I got registered in the hospital’s database and received a nice plastic card with all my data on it last time already, all I needed to do this time was to go straight to one of the machines looking like ATM’s in the foyer and enter my card there. The display said something in Japanese, I answered in full trust “Yes”, and was issued one of those mobile-phone style beepers I talked about in depth last time. Going up to my department’s reception, I said hello and was pointed toward my doctor’s office, outside of which I took a seat. I had brought something to study, and as I was almost 30 minutes early, I was ready for a longer wait and took out my stuff. I hadn’t even finished getting everything out when the beeper went off telling me that my doctor was ready for me!

Inside, my doctor and I agreed that I was doing just fine and should keep the same amount of medication. Besides that, he suggested I should eat more sushi. Seriously! Part of my bloodwork shows variations from the norm that might indicate an insufficient protein intake. Yes, I have been eating very little meat and I do agree that there’s probably not that much milk in chocolate as I might like. I promised to be more careful in that matter and left him – next appointment in March.

From there, everything went as last time: Go downstairs, present printout to the accountant, wait for beeper to indicate price, pay, and leave. From my arrival in the hospital until I left it and went to the pharmacy the whole procedure took 25 minutes, and I’m happy to state that the longest thing in all this was the actual consultation. I guess it was just a slow day with not too many people, because I had to wait much longer when I had the bloodwork done on Monday. Today, however, the longest wait was at the pharmacy until I received my pills…

Macabre?

Sunday was nice and warm and pleasant – so I decided to go out and take some photos. It’s the height of the autumn season and the leaves of the maple trees are ablaze in red and orange and yellow…

I started out alright but then, somehow, I got sucked into the large cemetery that lies on the grounds of Kurodani temple, and I spent almost 2 hours there wandering between the graves, old and new… The spot is beautiful with lots of trees and bushes and greenery between the tombstones. I like cemeteries in general, the peace and quiet… That’s probably because I am Austrian – being a bit macabre lies in our blood. In Europe, the Wiener Zentralfriedhof (Central Cemetery in Vienna) is the largest by number of interred and second largest by area – and there are not many things a proper Austrian enjoys more than a scheene Leich (a nice funeral)…

Hairy

After three months, I finally had to do it: go to the hairdresser. I have a short cut, and when the hair in the neck starts to become unmanageable and starts to bother me, I have to go, no more excuses. The last time I went was during my vacation, so this was the first time ever I had my hair cut in Japan. Part of the reluctance can be ascribed to the fact that this kind of service is very expensive in Japan – the cheapest price I have seen anywhere was 2500 YEN, and that’s just the cut, washing not included!

Anyway, there is a small hairdresser’s shop close to my place, and I went there, armed with the essential phrases on a piece of paper. Once the old lady who was buying shampoo had left, it was my turn. “Kami o kitte kudasai – please cut my hair”, I said, and then “Mijikakute, ushiro de motto mijikai! – short, and in the back very short!”

The proprietor looked somewhat unhappy, sat me down and reached for his catalogues. In Asia, long hair is de rigueur for women, unless you are a really old crone and thus beyond redemption. Women my age and below must have at least a chin length cut. I also flipped through some catalogues, all the models looked like twelve year olds, all sporting hairstyles that were young, trendy, and probably took hours to do… Hence, nothing for me. My approach to hairstyling is: wash, brush, air dry. If it isn’t properly styled within five minutes, it’s a waste of time, so I tend to have those very short, self-styling cuts. Once the hairdresser got over his shock and chose a style (essentially the one I had but significantly shorter), he took to work. We did some chatting – as much as I can do it with my limited vocabulary – and work proceeded nicely. Also here, as in other Asian countries, the washing happened after the cut, probably to remove all those annoying little stray hairs that are usually left somewhere.

I am happy to say that I like my new old haircut, the whole affair was unspectacular and easy – but the biggest surprise came at the very end: I received a hefty discount of almost 40 % – and the owner said for the rest I should go out and treat myself to something nice to eat!

I love Japan!

Court Music

Last Saturday I was invited to a performance of Gagaku – traditional Japanese Court Music. Gagaku is an ancient form of music; it was imported – together with instruments – from Korea and China around the 8th century, i.e., at the start of the Heian period.

A Gakagu orchestra consists of wind instruments (different types of flutes), string instruments (zither, lute, and harp) and different types and sizes of drums. There are often three parts to a concert: one where the whole orchestra plays together, another one containing songs and actual singing, and a third one where only the drums and wind instruments accompany classical dance.

I went to the performance not really knowing what to expect. When everybody had settled down (the place was sold out), a young girl came on stage and made a short introduction before the curtain lifted. There was an orchestra of maybe 30 people, sitting on tatami in a stage that was fenced off with red wood like in a shrine. The percussion instruments were in front, the strings behind them, and the wind instruments in the very back on red steps. They started with the kangen, concert music, and the effect was … striking. It was similar to the music I had heard before at shinto shrines; I would call it rather a sequence of tones that were more or less attuned to each other than a melody that you could follow to help you along. The second part was a short introduction to a song that was contained in the brochure, in the end the whole audience was expected to sing along with the teacher on stage. It was fun, even without understanding Japanese (or being able to sing…) During the break, the stage had been rearranged for the third part, the bugaku, or dance music. The string instruments were gone, and the musicians now sitting to the left and right of the tatami stage in the middle, where the dancing took place. The dancers, clad in elaborate costumes, performed slow dances fitting the music, almost like the stylised movements in Noh theatre, or, as a friend of mine observed, resembling the slow movements in tai chi.

The whole concert took only 90 minutes, and to be honest, I was rather happy about this. It was interesting and worth a try, but nothing I really need to do again. The music could not move me at all, as I said there was no melody at all to help you along or make you understand the intention of the song. I liked the songs in the middle, but that was only a 10 minute intermezzo. The dancing would have been more interesting had I known what the movements meant. That was similar enough to Noh to expect that with some deeper understanding you could get something out of it though.

Maybe there is something more to it, I have to confess complete and utter ignorance here I’m afraid. I know, however, that I’m not the only one: the lady sitting next to me, after taking off her shoes, fell sound asleep within the first five minutes of the concert. Or, maybe, she just had had a hard day?

Capsules

As you know, I went to Tokyo last weekend. As I had to go on relatively short notice, the hotel chain I usually stay in was booked solid down until Yokohama. Not willing to pay 12.000 YEN and more for a single night – the Shinkansen ticket was expensive enough – I decided to go the other way and booked – for 2.200 YEN – a place in one of those (in-) famous capsule hotels!

A capsule hotel, if you want so, is like a dormitory but with a bit more privacy. You get your own capsule, which is a hole in the wall of about the size of a bunk bed. There are usually two stacked on top of each other and you have to enter at the head or pillow side. A capsule is very basic: Besides a futon or mattress and sheets for it; a TV may be there as well. Facilities are shared, and that’s why many capsule hotels only cater to male guests, although some have own floors reserved for women. Besides towels, yukata, and slippers, no further service is offered, meaning you will not get breakfast there. Usually however, there is a communal room somewhere with vending machines, microwaves, and even computers.

So much for the theory, this is what I knew beforehand. Here is my personalized version of the adventure…

Upon arrival at the Hotel Asakusa and Capsule and after some struggling with the reservation name, I first had to buy a ticket from a vending machine opposite the front desk for the price of the accommodation. After filling in my name on the ticket, I had to put my shoes in one of the small lockers near the elevator and put on slippers. In exchange for the shoe locker key I received the key to my capsule, or so I thought. Equipped with keywords for the electronic locks and pointers to the women’s bathroom, I went up to the 6th floor and found my capsule to be one of 34 in a rather dark corridor to the left of the elevator. Right of the elevator were housed the toilets and a washroom.

Each one of the capsules was just as I expected, they had a sort of curtain instead of an entrance door (I guess it would have been too claustrophobia inducing inside otherwise, as only some of the capsules had little windows, but not mine); they key turned out to be for the closet inside the capsule, which had space only to hang two shirts. It was certainly the smallest closet I had ever seen, although I have to admit that some of the Japanese business hotels I’ve stayed in did without them altogether.

Anyway, besides the closet, the concrete capsule was equipped with a futon, pillow, and blanket, and on a shelf on the foot end stood a tiny pay TV (100 YEN/hour), with earphones discretely but in plain view located beside it. There was a light, a telephone to call the front desk, and a small ventilator which I actually did use later on because the space became stuffy rather quickly. Also provided were towels and a yukata – after all, the hotel did have one floor dedicated to a sento. I found the capsule rather spacious, it had a size 1.2 x 1.2 x 2 metres, which was enough (for me at least) to sit without bumping my head. When I lay on the futon, I could not touch the ceiling with my hands, so I did not feel claustrophobic after all, but maybe – as the hotel was a bit older – newer ones are smaller?

Looking at the picture, you will notice that there is certainly not enough space for any type of luggage, regardless of its size. Clearly, it is not a good idea to leave anything in the capsule while you’re out and about, so different sized lockers were available in the basement – for an extra charge, of course. Other add-ons were a “dining” room equipped with water cookers, microwaves, vending machines, several computers providing free internet and a TV. An interesting bit of information – provided via a notice in the elevator – was that you had to do the vending-machine check-in every day again, even if you had booked for several nights.

All in all, I found the experience very interesting – a bit dorm-like with more privacy. It was very clean everywhere and warm and quiet. Everybody was very considerate also, I only heard the other guests as they were leaving in the morning, and the place was also fully booked. I think this is certainly something to do again – provided I don’t have to get dressed decently and put on makeup again, the washrooms had terrible light…