Tokyo Notes

I've left Japan. This is my last post on this blog. I'm starting a new life, and a new blog.

Lots of new pictures in the picture gallery. In fact, so many, that it's possibly a little confusing. Essentially 6 new sections:

• Mum and Dad's visit in the summer (3 galleries)

• My trip to Korea and Kyushu (where Nagasaki is) in August (2 galleries)

• Events to mark my departure from Shane and Japan (2 galleries)

• Bits and pieces from the summer (2 galleries)

• Some pictures of Takako's nieces

• Various other pictures (from National Theatre to the end)

Hope you like them.

Coming soon

• Ishigaki (where Takako's parents live)

• Thailand (from where we returned on Saturday morning)

"No no no! Not hair: God - God!" he said, making a gesture of prayer to help me out. I hadn't at first understood what he wanted to talk about; the Japanese words for hair and god are quite similar. When he sat next to me at the station my heart did not leap with joy. He looked like the kind of slightly crazy old man who have on a couple of occasions chased me down the street shouting "Whereyoufrom", "WhyyouliveJapan", "WhayoulikeJapanesefood" in order to practice their English. But although he shared the dark brown weather beaten complexion of the rough sleeper, his manner and dress were different. His beard was short and neat, and his garment, though filthy, was interesting - a baggy grey boilersuit-like item which emitted an ecclesiastical echo, an effect enhanced by his wooden sandals. Before he sat down, he asked if he might ask me some questions. So - an off-duty monk who wants me to give him some money.

But he just wanted to talk about God with a gaijin. He'd clearly done it before, because he had that rarest of skills, the ability to make himself understood in his own language. Most can't - when I misunderstand, or ask about a word I don't recognise, they panic, or try English. The range of techniques he used was impressive: mime, paraphrase and even scribbling the kanji on his palm - no good to me because I don't know the kanji for "The Crusades" but it might have been helpful had I been Chinese or Korean. An odd smell came off him. Not the cigarettes and alcohol typical of the homeless man, but similar, although sweeter. Perhaps it was incense - years of prayer and contemplation in smoke filled rooms had perfumed him.

So we talked about God. He was mildly surprised to find I lacked any particular religious conviction - such a gaijin he had never met: was I German? It was the kind of conversation where limited powers of expression were advantageous. I didn't understand either why the two sides in Northern Ireland were fighting, but thought it was a great shame. Nor did I understand why people were fighting each other in Croatia, but agreed that it too was a great shame. Everyone in the world is the same, aren't they. My banalities were met with smiles of approval. He gave a prayer for peace. As my train pulled in, he bowed before me, and offered a blessing, and so we parted.

In preparation for tonight's match, I provide translations of the Japanese team's names. They're my best effort, given the reference materials available to me and my level of expertise. I'm prepared to be very wrong - corrections welcome.

Goalkeeper
川口 - Kawaguchi - Rivermouth

Defence
中澤 - Nakazawa - ????
宮本 - Miyamoto - Essence of Princeliness
加地 - Kaji - Enter the ground
三都主 - Santos - Master of three cities

Midfield
稲本 - Inamoto - Rice plant source
小野 - Ono - Smallfield
中田 - Nakata - In the rice field
中村 - Nakamura - In the village

Forwards
柳沢 - Yanagisawa - Willowmarsh
高原 - Takahara - Highfield

Kaji got injured in the friendly against Germany, and Inamoto and Ono are out of favour, so it's probable that these three will take the field.
坪井 - Tsuboi - 3.304 square metre well
駒野 - Komano - ????field (something horse related is my guess)
福西 - Fukunishi - Westluck

Alessandro Santos, sometimes referred to as "Alex", the defender, is an interesting case. He is of South American ancestry, and he (or his ancestors) has chosen the kanji which spell his name to have a somewhat flattering interpretation.

Another trip to Aoyama to watch rugby. This time it rained hard and Japan were on the wrong end of a spanking from Italy: 52 - 6 in the end, and deservedly so. Some of the less charitable element in the crowd booed their team. I, Dan and all our posessions and clothing were soaked comprehensively by the full time whistle, but it was a fun afternoon nonetheless. In the interests of saving cash, we tried to walk from the stadium to Shibuya station, rather than take the 5 minute subway ride, and got distracted by the Prada shop in Omotesando, then lost in the back streets, finally finding ourselves wandering the campus of Aoyama Gakuin University. We had to take a bus to refind out way, but still saved our money because the bus was so crowded that the driver decided it was more trouble than it was worth to charge us.

It is 梅雨 tsuyu, the rainy season, at present. The Japanese claim that Japan has four seasons, but always a little too quickly: it's really 5; summer is punctuated by tsuyu. Tsuyu means "plum rain". I discovered this by two different methods today. First, I've resumed the study of kanji, and one of today's was 梅 , plum. Before that, a student had informed me that she had been "damped in plum rain"; I can spot a literal translation at a thousand paces these days.

Between showers, my new next door neighbour knocked on my door and introduced herself. She gave me a present and apologised for the noise she was about to make at her housewarming party, to which she invited me in such a way that I almost felt I should go (but not quite, of course). This sort of introduction is correct etiquette, but this evening was the first time it's happened to me. It's rather exciting.

Kamakura is scattered with temples. Like the staircases and alleyways of Edinburgh's old town, one regularly discovers new and charming ones. On Monday we found Myohonji. Only five minutes off the beaten track, but deserted and very peaceful. On my way to the Honorable Hand Wash, I passed a young couple in black in a side temple being chanted at by a monk.

Yesterday was Tom's last day in Japan; his chum Dino was visiting before they both departed for Thailand and the life of riley.

Free Japanese lesson at the Fujisawa Youth Centre. I always love these: they're multicultural and fun. Today my class contained the following nationalities: Thai, Peruvian, Brazillian, Vietnamese, UK (me) and Tibetan.

On the way home, I went to the Halal food shop, where I've been meaning to go for the duration of my stay in these parts. As expected, they had big bags of cumin and coriander for the same price as a small jar in the supermarket. It seemed rather run down - not the bustling centre of the Muslim community in Fujisawa which I had rather imagined it would be. Next to an overflowing ashtray sat a smiling Filipino woman and her morose Japanese husband, both smoking frantically. Their infant daughter was blowing soap bubbles from a straw, in order to develop her hand to mouth co-ordination, ready for the day when she can begin her contributions to the family fag-end production effort. The shop too was somewhat hand to mouth: the shelves seemed to have been stocked just enough to stop the place looking completely empty. There wasn't a vast choice of spices, but if you're in need of extra large tins of jackfruit, that's your place. Perhaps the main business comes from the contents of the freezers, which is presumably Halal meat. I bought my curry ingredients, including red lentils, which I haven't had for about 3 years, and returned to the sunshine.

I've belatedly posted some pictures of the area around the Yokohama History Archive, housed in a Western-style building which was formerly the British Embassy to Japan. We went there in March, during the blossom season, and was the closest we came to hanami this year. The reflective structures in the courtyard outside were fascinating.

The museum was interesting too: it emphasised the extent to which the Opium Wars influenced Japan's opening it's ports to international trade in the 19th century. The Japanese were shocked by the strength of the West's naval power, as seen to have been exercised over China. So when Perry and his Black Ships appeared, they didn't really have to think twice.

I've also put up a picture of Enoshima station, taken on a grey day in February.

A couple more pictures from Guy's visit a few weeks ago. He was here again on Thursday evening, before leaving on Friday. He was concerned about getting a large aikido practise sword through security. Fortunately, he'd acquired the proper documentation - a certificate stating that it was blunt. Whether this was enough I don't yet know.


One of the odder things happened today. At the end of a normal demo lesson, the student asked me if she could take a picture of me, "for her Blog". This is normal enough, but surely putting these glasses on isn't.