Haori and Hakama

This past Sunday my friend Hideko invited me to visit her hometown Ishinomaki, on the coast of Miyagi. Her mother, brother and sister-in-law still live there, and own a kimono shop that has been in the family for 5 generations, about 140 years.

First we visited an old school friend of Hideko, who made an incredible lunch of "soba-maki", like nori-maki sushi rolls, but with the rice replaced by soba / Japanese buckwheat noodles. Soba-maki is a creation so good, Will Ferrell's James Lipton would describe it as "scrumtrulescent". I ate way past the point of full.

After we drove over to the kimono shop, where Hideko's family was waiting for us. Being a Sunday, the shop was quiet and without customers. Until then I had not had the opportunity to wear Japanese traditional dress, so Hideko suggested it would be the perfect place. Her brother recently added a photo studio to the shop and offered to take some pictures after I was dressed. So, after choosing a kimono (really they chose it for me), the sister-in-law led me to the fitting room. Changing out of my jeans and polo, the sister-in-law helped me into a thin silk robe/underkimono, of which I've forgotten the name. Next, "Obi"(a sash) #1 was wrapped around my waist. Then came the first part of the kimono, a pale blue-gray robe, again tightly wrapped with obi #2. Next, I stepped into the "hakama", which my dictionary calls Japanese trousers, but really is a thick, pleated skirt. The hakama also was tied tightly around me, first in the back and then in front. Finally, I put on the "haori", a formal coat of the same pale blue-gray silk, with several embroidered yellow seals. Having rather large feet by Japanese standards, I had to painfully squeeze into some faux-tabi (Japanese socks) and Japanese sandals. Fully dressed, the kimono was heavier than I expected, but also loose fitting and easy to move in. Certainly it was more comfortable than its Western equivalent, a suit and necktie. I am not sure what the kimono I was wearing cost, but I imagine it would in the thousands of dollars, by far the most expensive garment I have ever donned.



Most of the photos on my camera came out blurry, so I'll post only two for now. When I receive the professionally taken shots, I recount the story of my first photo shoot, a most humorous event...

墓石

Not sure what these fellows are called, or why there are six of them, but they impressively stand guard in front of a tomb in a small, nearby, overgrown cemetery.

Currently reading...

Dogs and Demons: Tales From the Dark Side of Modern Japan copyright 2001 by Alex Kerr

If you are curious at all about the modern (post WWII) history of Japan, how it became such a strong nation so quickly, how its culture has affected its government (and vice versa), and the many (and oft unspoken) issues/problems facing the country today, you will read this book. Seriously, go buy it right now. It is fascinating, enlightening, disheartening, and scary (especially if you have spent time in Japan).

With just two months left in Japan, it is a strange and most interesting time for me to read this book, for it contains some harsh criticisms of Japanese policies (from environmental to financial to educational). I don't want to leave with negative impressions, not after the incredible and enriching time I've spent here. However, just recently have I started to realize how I've changed in Japan, which parts of the culture I've adapted to, and which still seem so foreign to me. The book has answered many of my questions (even questions I didn't know I had) about Japan, and shed much light on a country where ideals reign over truths. Though I have seen glimpses of it with my own eyes, most shocking to me is the extent to which the bureaucratic juggernaut dominates not only government, but society as well.

Though the book will likely not be as meaningful for those of you who haven't spent time here, I still highly recommend it. It is well written, and contains a wealth of information on the current issues/challenges confronting (or perhaps, not confronting) Japan.

Waking up with the fishes

Last Friday I took the overnight bus down to Tokyo with my buddy Aaron for a fun-filled weekend in the city. I've spent very little time in Tokyo since I've been in Japan, and there were a few things I've been wanting to see/do before I leave. High on this list was the Tokyo Central Wholesale Market, otherwise known as the Tsukiji fish market. The market is massive, occupying some 56 acres near Ginza--everyday except Sundays, 2300 tons of 400 kinds of seafood are delivered to market from all over the world (this according to "The Rough Guide to Japan"). 2300 tons! If my math is correct, that's over 5 million pounds of seafood, 30,000 times my weight. EVERYDAY. And we wonder why the oceans are emptying!


Anyway, Aaron and I arrived in Tokyo at the ridiculous hour of 4:30a.m. and quickly caught a taxi to the market. Though quite a few people visit everyday, the market is not really set up for tourists. Aaron and I walked in through the main truck entrance, learning quickly to pay attention and stay out of the way of the workers, all extremely busy packing, unpacking, icing, loading, unloading, carrying, and transporting the day's catches on little motorized carts. We strolled about the the narrow alleys of the outer markets for about 20 minutes, gawking at the endless kinds of fish, eels, squid, octopus, sea anemone, and unidentifiable creatures on display, much of which was so fresh it was still flapping and squirming.


Finally we made it to the back of the market, where the famed tuna auctions take place. In a large warehouse room, hundreds of rock-solid frozen tunas of all sizes were laid on the cement floor. The tunas had a number of markings and tags, presumably telling weight, quality, country of origin, etc. There were a great many people moving about, buyers and sellers I presume, inspecting each fish and preparing for the auction. Suddenly, two men rang some shrill hand bells about 5:30 and the first calling began. The caller spoke no Japanese that I recognized, but in a manner much calmer than I had imagined, each fish was bought/sold (for between 600,000-1,000,000 million yen, again according to RG Japan). We watched several rounds of this, snapping the necessary pix, before returning to the outer markets and the not-so-fresh air.

Aaron and I had planned on having a bite at one of the many (and perhaps freshest in the world) sushi shops on the edge of the market, some opening at 5:30a.m. However, the sight of so much seafood, some of it still alive, at an hour reserved in the West strictly for coffee, our stomachs were not quite up to it. So we took one last look and made our way to the front of the market again, side-stepping the many carts and crates. On the way out we passed the styrofoam box recycling (I sure hope they were recycling them) spot--the sheer volume of which was quite shocking.