The Japanese Aesthetic

I have admired the Japanese sense of style all my life. Relishing in the textiles, paintings, architecture, gardens, art, rituals and festivals. The simplicity yet complexity of their aesthetic has always been iconic around the world. For example, the elegant shape of toris, standing proud and silent, beckoning you to walk through them dressed in an elegant kimino. Yet now I have been to Japan I have reckonised that these representative images are those of ancient Japan. Modern Japan has a different style altogether.

What struck me first is that everything is “cute”. Everything has to have some king of drawn cartoon-mascot attached to it, that is then on sold as a toy or charm. Secondly everything is now made of plastic; I notice in a restaurant this afternoon that the wood was actually textured plastic, yesterday we notice that a house wasn’t made of painted brick – it was textured plastic. Finally if you can get a blinking light in, on or around something then go for it. Yet we have seen many signs about electricity shortages and the need to conserve it.

It appears that the old is still revered and respected but if its new – it must be of the new paradigm.

PS – most incongruous Christmas thing to date – animated 2 metre high Santa singing “The yellow rose of Texas”!

Blade runner

I have a confession – I love science fiction. Ever since I was a kid – about 5 or 6 – when the original Star Trek was first shown on TV, I have watched and read Syfy; in 1977 I saw Star Wars 17 times.  So I was delighted to land in Ueno in Tokyo – a part that although still a modern landscape -it has much more of an old Asia feel. The markets opposite the train station (which is enormous) surely must have been Ridley Scott’s inspiration for his Blader Runner movie. 

The narrow streets are bursting with markets that sell everything -fish stalls with weird crimson pink octopus tenticles, clothing stores stuffed with all manner of items, spruikers at every corner trying to tempt you in; an absolute cacophany for all the senses. As it’s winter the sunsets at 4:30 in the arvo so the brilliant lights of pachinkos (pockie machine super stores) approach retina burn levels.  The lurid signs for “DVDs” that are XXX rated flash and blink hypnotically.  In spite of this seediness, families wonder the alley ways and it still feels safe.  I half expected the flying food stall junk from Scott’s imagination to hover above – hawking its wares.

Tempting aromas of barbecued meat and noodle soups interspersed with sweet wafts of perfumes and cosmetics, then pungent waves of intruding cars assault your nostrils. Shouts of Japanese, honks of horns and the bring bring of bicycle bells fill your ears. The only thing missing was Harrison Ford dashing through the streets in search of the elusive replicant.

Tonight I will take my camera back and record this amazing scene – I just hope this wonderous area resists the enroachment of the usual high rise super shopping malls that infest the rest of Tokyo. It is a true gem of remnant Asia.

Geikos and Maikos

Since I was a little girl of about 7 I have been fascinated with Geisha. My grandfather brought me a Geisha doll home from Japan, she was exquisite in her red kimono with dangling cherry blosom in her hair. She was posed with a slight twist from the waist coyly hiding her face behind an ornate open fan. Geiko (what the Japanese actually called them) and Maiko (the apprentices) are even more exotic in the flesh. These tiny women are works of art -their hair alone must take hours, not to mention the make up and putting on the elaborate kimonos.  Two of them kindly let me take a photo of them – I asked first as many ignorant tourists chase them around like rabid papparazzi – outside the Kenninji Temple gates.

The Kenninji complex is a series of pavillions, one containing a large Buddha with two huge dragons painted on the ceiling, another with a famous screen of the wind and thunder gods.  This complex was built in the 13th century and is one of the first Zen temples in Japan.  All of this sits within the modern chaos of Gion the traditional Geiko area. Much of the district has been preserved and is one of the few places left where you can see whole streets of gorgeous traditional wooden houses.  Some streets have even had all of the power lines and services hidden to give a more authentic look.

But there is much more to Kyoto than just Gion. There’s the fabulous original castle of Nijo, the Golden temple, the Royal palace and gardens, actually there are temples and shrines all over the city. Just beyond the city is Arashiyama, an old place with an intact bamboo forest where 5000
Japanese lanterns adorn the streets and the forest for 10 days a year. It was worth braving the cold, rain and about 500,000 Japanese to see this night time spectacle.

We spent 6 days in Kyoto and probably could have used another 6 just for the temples and gardens – we may go back later in our holiday – but I am happy having fulfilled a childhood dream of seeing a real Geisha.

Hiroshima

Many things come to mind when this city is mentioned, usually the terrible images of the devastation caused by the A bomb in 1945. And it is hard to think of Hiroshima without it – its why we chose to go there. But there is so much more than that awful event. Because of the absolute devastation it is now a well planned modern city, easy to get around on its Melbournesque trams, and filled with modern conveniences.  But it also means that the original 1591 castle had to be rebuilt in 1953. Something that seems to have escaped a couple of Americans complaining that it was a “Disney castle” because it wasn’t original!  I’ll leave the irony of that remark for you to figure out.

Anyway – the castle is amazing filled with fab displays and videos on its history and purpose. In 1589 with no machinery Miro (the feudal lord) had his people build a five story castle in what was essentially a swamp. Yes there was a lot of Monty quotes flying amongst us. They pounded tree trunks into the sand and mud, back filled it with the dredged river mud then let it set before building the 4 metre high stone foundations. The stone was quarried from the surrounding delta islands and shipped through man made canals that later became part of the defence mechanisms. Incredible feats of  engineering.

The surrounding gardens contain two astonishing trees – a Eucalypt and a Willow – both survived the 1945 blast!  Of course they are treated with reverence as sacred trees complete with Buddhist wishes and luck omens.

Hiroshima will always hold a special place for me – its the first time I  had seen snow falling. Off to Kyoto next.

Faster than a speeding bullet – train that is.

Travelling by train is the only way in Japan. They are fast, efficient, clean and super organised. So far we have mastered the Shinkansen (bullet train), trams, two subways and now the regional trains.  On top of this is the inherent politeness of the people themselves. So far every time we have looked a little lost or perplexed some one has come to our rescue with utter grace and calm.

My usually diligent husband left his back pack on the Tokyo bound Shinkansen and only noticed after we go off at Kyoto. Panic set in as we scurried for the Lost n Found info counter as he realised that not only was my SLR digital camera in the bag but his passport as well!  I had visions of spending a week of our holiday in the Aussie embassy trying to prove who he was.  But we should have known better – with the usual Japanese aplomb phone calls were made, the bag located and promptly returned to our hotel the next day. No bother, no fuss, no hassle and not one thing missing. In fact they had wrapped my camera in bubblewrap just to make sure it was OK.

I dread to think what would have happened to the bag and its contents if we had left it on the train to Perth -never seen it again I think.

Cleaning everyday makes you happy

Tokyo is amazing.   It is a contrast between the manic and the serene.  One minute you are surrounded by  a seething mass of moving humanity, splintering this way and that.  Yet one step off into the lane is a tranquil oasis of golden ginkgo trees, sleeping cat and parked bicycles.

It took us 4 hours to get to Tokyo by the time we navigated the airport, obtaining our rail passes and boarding our train.  Arriving at Shinjuku station we must have looked lost as station attendant came to our rescue; different train one more stop. Off at Shin-Okubo, down a quiet lane to our hotel.

To our Australian sense of space, everything here is on a compact scale. Our hotel room is little bigger than the two single beds it contains. The bathroom is a capsule with taps. I have kicked, knocked and crunched my feet into my sprawled suitcase a dozen times. But we adjust to this new paradigm of life.  

Every travel blog you read says how friendly and helpful the Japanese people are and they are.  They go out of their way to help, often to their own detriment but if you live in such close quarters then as a society you would have to have this sense of selflessness for it to function. The old   “I’m right Jack, bugger you” is just not going to work.   On top of this they are very positive and much like Aussies they are quick to laugh and see the funny side of things. Last night in our hotel’s funky little bar I spotted this sign above the sink (see below): “Cleaning everyday makes you happy”. So even cleaning is made happy. No wonder that a city of 35 million people is so spotlessly clean.

Did the earth move for you?

Within 7 hours of arriving in Tokyo my husband, our son, two of his mates and myself experienced our first earthquake. We have both been through tremours in Darwin that made our stilt house rattle a bit (mainly from the Mt Pinatubo eruptions in the early 1980s) but nothing like the scale of Friday.
  At first it was like the rattle and hum of an old elevator that grumbles and groans within its bricks and mortar confines, but it quickly progressed into a full on wall shaking rumble. You could actually see the room (and hence the whole building) moving to and fro. At this point I thought of my favourite Jurasic Park quote delivered by the cool and unflappable Jeff Goldblum, “First there’s oooing, then there’s ahhing, then there’s running, then there’s screaming.”   At what point do we run screaming from the building? Do we stand in a doorway? Get under a table? It was the first time in a long time that I felt completely helpless as I realised none of the above options would have made the slightest difference. The shaking subsided and we eventually returned to our holiday mode.   Later in the bar I asked our barman what should we have done? When do they take the shaking serious? His typically stoic Japanese reply was, “No point – when the shaking is too big it’s too late.”  Insightful but not very comforting.
Okay so now our family’s natural disaster record is: 3 cyclones, 2 bushfires, 1 mega flood and an earthquake. Don’t think we will venture too close to Mt Fuji – just in case.

Car parking, an abandoned backpack and a Zombie Apocalypse – Part 3

After our bizarre Zombie experience I needed coffee!  There was a lovely little cafe in a tradtional Amsterdam house, so in we went; had coffee and settled down.  Until we went to pay.  They didn’t accept cash!  They expected us to pay a 3 Euro bill with our Visa card, can you image?  We get charged $4 dollars for every overseas transaction plus the a percentage!  So an approx $4 bill would have cost us $10.  We refused to use the card and handed over the Euros and he had the cheek to ask for a tip!  But this wasn’t the last strange thing that happened.

We took the ferry back to Amsterdam central station were we could catch our tram back to the hotel.  The tram system is excellent and with a 5 day ticket you can get on and off as many trams as you like for about 4 Euros a day – bargain!  Waiting at the main station for the tram to leave, I glanced down outside the tram at the shelter, to see an abandoned back pack, a very full, almost bulging backpack.  After the morning of weirdness my immediate thought was not good – bomb!  Not an unjustified thought in our modern world.  I could not wait till the tram got moving and we got away from the mystery backpack.  Obviously it didn’t explode, more than likely someone who had been to the Coffee Houses had left it there in their haze!  But I can tell you I sweated a lot for the 1 minute and 22 seconds that the tram sat there.

So that was our very weird day in Amsterdam.  Next… a Porno movie and a red umper lumper man in Berlin.

 

Car parking, an abandoned backpack and a Zombie Apocalypse – Part 2

After the car parking incident  we continued along the old wharf to the next terminal.  Just before it, was an area that was obviously going through an urban renewal process.  There were several new apartment buildings, the foreshore was being made over and a new building was under construction.  And as with many construction sites we were funnelled through a “safe walkway” through portable cyclone mesh fencing away from the actual construction.  It was a long straight path that veered around the back of the new building and passed what looked like a derelict building.  Nothing strange so far but as we walked further down this mesh tunnel we realised there was a man standing on the other side of the fence.

He was standing absolutely still and staring directly at us.  Again a little strange but there are strange people everywhere nothing to be concerned about yet; until we got closer and could see him clearly.  His pose was like that of actors who emerge from some disaster – bomb explosion, nuclear blast, tunnel fire (just think of Bruce Willis movies and you’ll get the idea) his shoulders where hunched and his arms and legs were akimbo, his hair was all over the place, his clothes were dishevelled and torn and there was what appeared to be blood over him!

And he just kept staring.  The first thing that went through my head was bomb explosion victim but there was something surreal about the whole thing.  As the surroundings started to register in my head – construction site, derelict building, mesh fencing – it all became horribly clear, it was a Zombie Apocalypse.  Obviously I have been watching my son’s Xbox games too much or had I?

He freaked both of us out completely, as he didn’t respond in any way, jsut continued to stand dead still, so we scurried away around the corner to come across complete normality; people, cars, bycycles, a cafe and the ferry terminal!  It was then I realised the the derelict building was actually some kind of arts centre and this must have been some kind of performance art piece.  Or was it one of those candid camera things and we are the stupid tourists!

 

Car parking, an abandoned backpack and a Zombie Apocalypse – Part 1

We had a couple of really weird things happen to us on our last trip.  They say things come in threes and they certianly did one day in Amsterdam.  We absolutely fell in love with Amsterdam; its beautiful  brick architecture that radiates out from the old heart displaying each epoch in style yet still resolutely Dutch, the chaotic symphony of pedestrians, cyclists, trams, cars and boats and the incredible practicality of its people.

After 4 days we had walked pretty well all over the city so decided to get out a bit further.  I had read in a Lonely Planet about Amsterdam Noord – the old docklands area that was morphing into an art collective with a funky cafe and some interesting walks.  There are free ferries which take you across the harbour to various points so we decided to go to one end and walk to the next terminal about 6kms away.  As usual the weather was pretty dismal about 18 degrees C and drizzling off and on.  Undeterred we found the art space and cafe, wandered around then headed for the next terminal, weaving our way through some magnificent old ship yard buildings and wharves, onto the newer area towards the next stop.

At one point I was taking photos (as I do) and my husband was a little further ahead (as he usually is) when a car pulled up and out got a couple who spoke Dutch to him.  Of course our grasp of Dutch is limited toBehagen and Danke  (please and thank you) so immediately made that clear –  not a problem as most people do speak some English.  They were looking for somewhere to park their car as they didn’t want to pay for parking near the ferry terminal (about 1km further along).  We explained we were not the best people to ask (being from the other side of the world and all) and we couldn’t help them.  Yet they persisted in asking like we secretly knew but wouldn’t share.  Now you have to image where we are – on a deserted old wharf, surrounded by factories and holding yards and we hadn’t come across any people for about an hour so their persistance was a little strange.  They chatted to each other in Dutch then asked us if we wanted a lift (we are still not sure where to) and when we declined they got a little weird with us – like we had offended them.  They eventually got back in the car then drove off weaving across the road like they were fighting over the steering wheel!

After shaking our heads we continued to the next terminal where the next weird thing happened.