Archive for the ‘Japan’ Category

Saturday, January 28th, 2012

Alex Kerr’s “Dogs and Demons”

Dogs and Demons

“Tell me, gentle flowers, teardrops of the stars, standing in the garden, nodding your head to the bees as they sing of the dews and the sunbeams, are you aware of the fearful doom that awaits you?”

Okakura Kakuso “The Book of Tea”

When Alex Kerr wrote, in “Lost Japan” (link to – http://www.slow-life.co.uk/2012/01/11/the-slow-life-in-japan/) about the changes which had taken place during the 20 years he had lived in his adopted country he told the story with love and affection. Ten years later, in “Dogs and Demons”, his love has turned to hatred, his affection to scorn. His book contains as much bile and bitterness as the angriest divorce petition. His anger is directed at a corrupt bureaucracy which wastes countless millions on absurd construction projects; on a supine population who take no interest in the environment and allow these projects to take place; on an innate conservatism which won’t allow other nationalities to immigrate or integrate; and an educational system which brainwashes its youth into never questioning authority.

Alex Kerr’s analysis is accurate, but his conclusions are wrong. When he says that the bureaucracy is powerful and intent on extending its power he’s describing bureaucrats everywhere; whether in Japan or elsewhere they’ll get pleasure from standing at a drain and pouring other people’s money down it. In Japan the money is wasted on construction projects, in England on sink estates.

And his pleas for Japan to become more like the United States, with all sorts of bossy pressure groups, open borders and an educational system where anything goes would result in Japan losing that specialness which appealed to him in the first place. Perhaps he just grew tired of being in a place where things got done and you never had to worry about your wallet being stolen.

Monday, January 16th, 2012

Why I Love Japan Part 7 – The Slow Life


My home town of Grange-over-Sands is the archetypal slow town.  Its citizens, most of them being elderly, move slowly; for them the 30 mph sign isn’t a speed limit it’s an unattainable dream.  Grange is almost unique in the modern world in having an abundance of independent food shops so that you can do your weekly shop without visiting a supermarket – which is handy as there isn’t one.  It’s an ideal candidate for becoming a “Slow Town” under a scheme promoted by the Slow Food movement and last year, with the backing of Slow Food, I proposed this to the Town Council. Unfortunately my proposal was rejected, not on the grounds of cost (because I’d anticipated that by agreeing to underwrite the costs) but with the unassailable logic of their inherent slowness, or to put it another way, they were so slow witted and lethargic that they couldn’t be bothered.

If the idea had been proposed in Japan, I’ve no doubt it would have been welcomed enthusiastically.  The barrenness of being busy, as Carla Carlisle puts it, is something well known to the Japanese,  whose working hours are punishingly long. “Slow” is big in Japan, so much so that whole cities have become “Slow Cities”*, and the Slow Food movement has more members in Japan than any country except Italy.

The extraordinary thing is that whilst most Japanese opt for the city life with no access to a garden or an allotment, the possibility of living the good life is greater there than in any other developed country.  This video tells the story of a young couple, Sean and Misa, who were given a farm in Shikoku rent-free on the sole condition that they cultivated the land to prevent it from being reclaimed by the forest.  There are dozens of abandoned farmhouses in the same community and all over Japan, and so the opportunity taken up by Sean and Misa is available to many more.

*Here’s the ‘Slow Life’ Declaration of the Japanese city of Kakegawa, which I think is rather lovely and should be read, ever so slowly, to the Town Councillors of Grange:

The practice of the “Slow Life” involves the following eight themes:

SLOW PACE: We value the culture of walking, to be fit and to reduce traffic accidents.

SLOW WEAR: We respect and cherish our beautiful traditional costumes, including woven and dyed fabrics, Japanese kimonos and Japanese night robes (yukata).

SLOW FOOD: We enjoy Japanese food culture, such as Japanese dishes and tea ceremony, and safe local ingredients.

SLOW HOUSE: We respect houses built with wood, bamboo, and paper, lasting over one hundred or two hundred years, and are careful to make things durably and ultimately, to conserve our environment.

SLOW INDUSTRY: We take care of our forests, through our agriculture and forestry, conduct sustainable farming with human labor, and ultimately spread urban farms and green tourism.

SLOW EDUCATION: We pay less attention to academic achievement, and create a society in which people can enjoy arts, hobbies, and sports throughout our lifetimes, and where all generations can communicate well with each other.

SLOW AGING: We aim to age with grace and be self-reliant throughout our lifetimes.

SLOW LIFE: Based on the philosophy of life stated above, we live our lives with nature and the seasons, saving our resources and energy.

Sunday, January 15th, 2012

Why I Love Japan Part 6 – The Bathroom

WashletAs I lay groaning in the hotel bedroom in Taipei, certain I was going to die, the thought occurred to me that no-one knew where I was. I’d checked into a cheap hotel and, in the days when you thought twice before picking up the phone to make an international call, I hadn’t told anyone where I was staying. In my delirium I convinced myself that when the maid found my dead body the hotel owners would avoid any annoying questions by throwing me and my belongings into the river.

Taiwan isn’t the only place I’ve succumbed to ‘Delhi belly’ (as a matter of fact I’ve had it in Delhi) but I’ve never suffered in Japan, even though I’ve experimented with some of the world’s strangest food there*. There’s an irony here because if you were to choose any bathroom in the world in which to spend an excessive amount of time, it would have to be Japan. Their toilets are wonderful. They are there to pamper you, with heated seats and a button which operates a spray of warm water to clean your bottom. There’s a separate button, as a diagram helpfully explains, for washing a lady’s front bottom – gentlemen are advised not to press this button by mistake. Some models will play music or the sound of running water to hide any embarrassing sounds, and the more advanced models will automatically close the toilet lid after use. This last feature would explain why the divorce rate in Japan is so much lower than it is in England – they don’t have arguments about leaving the toilet seat up.

These space-age toilets (known as washlets) are universally popular with Western visitors who often ask why they aren’t used back home. This is a mystery – one of the strangest statistics I’ve been given is that Toto, the largest manufacturer, sold 1m of these toilets in Japan over the course of a year and only 4 in the whole of Europe. One of the reasons for their lack of popularity here may be our reluctance to broach the subject. I’m reminded of the Texan visiting a posh country house who, when asked if he wanted to wash his hands, replied: “No thanks Ma’am, I washed them on the rose bed on my way in”.

*http://www.slow-life.co.uk/2011/07/24/raw-chicken-and-other-stories/
http://www.slow-life.co.uk/2011/10/04/disgusting-things-for-dinner/

Wednesday, January 11th, 2012

Alex Kerr’s “Lost Japan”

Chiiori House

Every Japanese business has an English name and there’s something very endearing about the fact that they never quite get it right. The best boutique hotel in Fukuoka is called “With the Style”; the largest second-hand book shop is “Book-off” (there’s a branch of the same business, which sells second hand computers with the wonderful name of “Hard-off”). I was browsing through Book-off when I can across a book by Alex Kerr called “Lost Japan.” What a find it turned out to be. Although Alex Kerr is an American, the book was originally written in Japanese and in 1994 it won the Shincho Gakugei Literature Prize for the best work of non-fiction published in Japan, the first time a foreigner had won the award. The book tells us what it’s like to live in Japan and how Japanese society works.

When the author first came to Japan in the 1970’s, he noticed that when people left the countryside to live in a town, which they were doing by the thousands, they wouldn’t bother to sell their house in the country, they’d just abandon it, sometimes without removing anything – they’d leave the furniture, the bedding, even utensils. He went searching for the house of his dreams in Shikoku and fell in love with an abandoned wooden house with a thatched roof, which he bought for $1,300, and set about restoring. He called it Chiiori, “the house of the flute”, and what he did was so unusual that it’s now become a tourist attraction.

Alex Kerr laments the loss of the Japan which he first encountered when he arrived in the seventies. But in one respect the Japan which he loved is still there. Strangely, although property prices in the cities are amongst the highest in the world, no-one wants to live in the countryside, which is still littered with abandoned houses, which can be acquired for a song. The irony is that millions in the cities hanker after the Slow Life. If they cared to look they’d find that it’s there, right under their noses.

Thursday, January 5th, 2012

Why I Love Japan Part 5 – Prosperity

Japanese cat

When my friend Kenji first came to England in 1972 he was given just one pound in exchange for a 1,000 yen note. This year he exchanged 1,000 yen for £8. This eight-fold increase in the value of the yen is partly a reflection of the rise of Japan’s economy and partly due to the relative decline of ours. In 1972, Japan was just beginning to export its odd little cars to the UK. How we scoffed. Who would dream of buying a Japanese car with a funny name when you could buy something British called the Humber Super Snipe? But soon after this my mother fell for the sporty Toyota Celica and now my family own four Japanese cars and every camera and TV in our house is Japanese.

I’ll never forget the sense of awe which I felt when I first visited Hong Kong and saw its soaring skyscrapers. Arriving in Tokyo today revives that feeling. It’s not just the buildings – everything is modern and up to date – light years ahead of our own capital city. I feel privileged to be able to share in that wealth when I visit Japan. I’m full of admiration for what they’ve achieved, but I can’t help feeling that when you add together all the Japanese stuff we’ve bought over the years, I’ve paid for quite a bit of it.

Tuesday, January 3rd, 2012

The Kiyosumi Garden, Tokyo

Kiyosumi Garden

furu ike ya / kawazu tobikomu / mizu no oto
an ancient pond / a frog jumps in / the splash of water
~Basho, 1686

When I asked Kazu Ishihara which were the ten best gardens in Japan (excluding gardens he had designed) his list included Kiyosumi in Tokyo (as well as, inevitably, a garden he had designed himself).  Kiyosumi has strong British connections because the tea house, which is now its focal point, was built as a guest house for Lord Kitchener and because the garden was originally built for a Tudor-style residence designed by the English architect Josiah Conder, the man who re-modelled Tokyo in the nineteenth century. Sadly, the house, together with nearly everything else he built, was destroyed in the Great Kanto earthquake of 1923 (what the earthquake didn’t get, the American bombs did).  But there’s nothing at all English about the garden, which is a typical Japanese “strolling” garden, whose pathways wind around a large pond.  Even in mid-winter the garden is enchanting but it looks its best, I’m told, in May and June when spectacular displays of iris and azalea come into flower.  But there’s a problem with including this garden in Japan’s top ten.  It borrows its scenery from some of Tokyo’s ugliest architecture, which intrudes into every aspect.  In fact it’s impossible to take a photo of the garden which doesn’t include a chunk of brutal concrete. I’ll have to ask Kazu to reconsider.

Note: The Basho haiku is carved on a stone monument in the garden.

Tuesday, January 3rd, 2012

A Stroll in the Emperor’s Garden

Emperor's Garden

Alex Kerr tells the story of how he arrived late one afternoon at Kongo Sanmai-in, a temple that offers rooms to pilgrims and travellers and he was asked by one of the monks if he would like to see the Buddha in the main hall, but he said he was too tired. Later that evening, on the way to the bath, he passed a monk who remarked pleasantly how fortunate he had been to be able to see their Buddha of divine power. “Well, actually, we were planning to see it tomorrow”, he replied. The monk shook his head. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible. Sanmai-in’s Buddha is a hibutsu. Mt Koya’s other statues are sometimes put on display, or even lent to other temples, but this one has never left the mountain. This is the first time it has ever been shown to the general public. It’s called a five-hundred-year hibutsu. The doors closed at five o’clock today and you’ll have to wait another five hundred years if you want to see it.”

The “five-hundred year hibutsu” is good rule for travellers and today, finding myself in Tokyo on one of the very rare days that the Emperor opened the inner garden of the Imperial Palace to the public there was no way I was going to miss the chance to stroll in the Emperor’s garden. The word stroll implies a quiet contemplative walk, but what I hadn’t bargained for was the fact that the Emperor himself would be there with his family so I had to share the walk with 100,000 Japanese who didn’t want to miss the chance to see their Royal family. And so the fascination of the visit turned out not to be the Emperor’s garden (which didn’t amount to much after all) but the sight of his Palace, surprisingly made of concrete and steel, and the Emperor and his family waving at us from a balcony behind bullet proof glass and the enthusiasm of a multitude of Japanese, waving their national flag.

Emperor

Sunday, January 1st, 2012

Why I Love Japan Part 4 – Beauty

Japanese are renowned for their healthy, youthful appearances

I’ve yet to come across a deeply religious Japanese person.  The Japanese follow two main religions, Shintoism and Buddhism, but more, so they tell me, as a ritual or a superstition, than a matter of faith.  But they have a new God, which they seem to follow blindly, the God of Electricity.  Monuments to this God are everywhere, even in the most sacred Shinto sanctuaries. They are especially prominent on the mountain sides, as if to permanently remind us that the once beautiful virgin forests have been bulldozed and replaced with crytomeria pines. But it would be unfair to say the utility poles and pylons have ruined Japan’s urban landscape – it would be unremittingly ugly without them.  The phrase ‘urban jungle’ could have been coined to describe the concrete bleakness of Japan’s cities.

Where, then, is the beauty in Japan? Well, not all the architecture is grim – the skyscrapers of Tokyo rival New York and Hong Kong.  There is breath-taking beauty in Japan’s coastline, its lakes, temples and gardens.  But the essential beauty of Japan is in the small details – a simple flower arrangement or an ornament in a tokonoma alcove.

Japan above all is the land of beautiful people.  There’s nothing more depressing than standing in a queue behind an American who has let himself go – by which I mean let himself grow to twice his normal width.  In Japan size zero is the norm; people take pride in their appearance and often look far younger than their years.  Last year, at the Gardening World Cup one of the translators, who worked hard and played hard, had been out all night celebrating her birthday and the designers were wondering how old she was.  ”27″ said one, “No, 24″ said another.  She was 41, but like so many Japanese didn’t look her age because she hadn’t put on the weight which is associated with growing older.  Very few men or women develop the middle-aged spread which we think is inevitable, so that their waist measurement at 60 is the same as it was at 30.  The Japanese look good and to see them makes me feel good and takes my mind off those utility poles.

Saturday, December 31st, 2011

Why I Love Japan Part 3 – Feeling Safe

Japanese policeman

There was a massively thick copy of the Yellow Pages next to the Gideon Bible in my hotel room in Miami. It turned out that the reason for its excessive bulk was that there were more than 100 pages devoted to adverts from lawyers. There are over a million lawyers in the States and I’m sure there’s enough work for each and every one of them. It’s a reflection of the difference in the way of life between America and Japan that Japan has only 25,000 lawyers.

One of the reasons why America has so many lawyers is that there’s so much crime. The fear of crime permeates every aspect of ordinary American life. In Japan, crime is rare and consequently there’s no fear of it. If a woman goes into a crowded Starbucks in Tokyo and wants to bag a seat, she’ll leave her handbag on a chair while she joins the queue at the counter. She doesn’t have the slightest worry that it won’t be there when she gets back. When the bars and clubs empty in Shinjuku in the early hours, a lot of very tipsy people will pour out onto the streets, but it’s a happy crowd, completely free from any tension or aggression and everyone will get home safely. When motorists park up they’ll leave their car unlocked, with the keys in in the ignition.

There was a time when, as a visitor to a new and unfamiliar place, I relished the sense of danger in knowing that I couldn’t trust anyone and that my money and passport were under constant threat. But there’s a wonderful feeling of liberation in being in a place where you can trust everyone, and equally importantly, they trust you. When you check into a hotel you won’t be asked to pay in advance and only rarely asked for your credit card details. And when you do come to pay, whether it’s in a hotel, restaurant or shop you can be certain that no-one is trying to over-charge you or rip you off and you don’t have to count your change. A country with only 25,000 lawyers is a very good place to be.

Friday, December 30th, 2011

Why I Love Japan Part 2 – The food

Japanese food

“Japan is like an oyster. An oyster dislikes foreign objects: when even the smallest grain of sand or broken shell finds its way inside the oyster shell, the oyster finds the invasion intolerable, so it secretes layer after layer of nacre upon the surface of the offending particle, eventually creating a perfect pearl. In like manner Japan coats all culture from abroad, transforming it into a Japanese-style pearl.”
Alex Kerr- ‘Lost Japan’

My daughters sat goggle-eyed as the slim twenty-something girl, who was eating on her own, slurped oyster after oyster from their shells, until she had got through 8 plates-full, that’s 96 in all. Part of the fun of eating out in Japan is seeing what everyone else is getting up to. The Oyster Bar is one of four dozen eating places on the 9th and 10th floors of the new shopping complex above Hakata station in Fukuoka. This is affordable eating, perfectly suited to a family of five. All the restaurants are Japanese, in that the owners and staff are Japanese, but several call themselves Italian, French, Chinese and Mexican. They are all small and independently owned, each with a different speciality. Of the true Japanese there are the usual suspects, such as sushi, sashimi, tempera, sukiyaki, shabu-shabu, teppenyaki and ramen, and some unusual specialities, such as horse-meat, tripe and one serving what they described as “organ meat dishes”. But you generally knew what you were going to get, because replicas of the dishes are helpfully displayed in the restaurant window and most of the menus have photos alongside the description. The restaurants which call themselves Italian or French, etc. are a refined Japanese version of the original, always as good and sometimes much better than the cuisine on which they’re based.

We are well aware that there’s another world out there, the “high end” restaurants which have earned Japan its reputation as the gastronomic centre of the world, now that it has more Michelin stars than France. They are beyond our reach. There are also hundreds of inexpensive places, such as the ramen and soba bars, where a meal will cost £3 or £4. In our price range, which is £10 a head, the choice is vast and it doesn’t matter whether you’re eating pure Japanese or the Japanese version of another county’s food, you won’t eat better anywhere in the world.