Wednesday, April 4, 2007
Carl is back!!
Yesterday, I was walking to school and low and behold, there was Carl, at his same old spot, sitting up and sleeping! This time, he has much less stuff, only a few plastic bags instead of the huge piles of things he had accumulated before. I was so excited, I texted my roommate right away. Where has he been for the past two weeks? What did he do? I now wonder if he left voluntarily or if the people who were building the parking lot only kicked him out for a short period of time. Did they have the right to do that? His return has only brought me more questions about the homeless culture in Tokyo. Does anyone who reads this know anything about it? I am dying of curiosity! But, I am happy to see Carl every morning again and know that he is back home.
Friday, March 23, 2007
Where is Carl?
Everyday, I have a 45 minute walk from my weekly mansion (somewhat seedy hotel, definitely not a real mansion) in Akasaka to TUJ in Azabu Juban. I take the same route everyday and I walk there and back at least once. Every single day, there is a homeless man sitting by a sidewalk I use on my commute. Every time I walk past that spot he is there. Usually he is sleeping but I have seen him listening to a walkman, reading the paper with his glasses, eating and peeing. Sometimes he gestures towards me and makes weird, incomprehensible noises, but most of the time he's doing his own thing. A friend of mine who lives in my building named him Carl, and the name just kind of stuck. Everyone who lives in our dorm knows who Carl is and we often refer to him in passing conversation. In the past three months, Carl has ALWAYS been there. Never once, have I not seen him.
Until last week, that is. One day, I was walking to school and Carl was gone. Not only was he not at his usual spot, none of his stuff was there either. Carl always had a massive amount of junk collected around him. This time, there were remnants of it left: a broken umbrella, an empty lighter, but the vast majority of his stuff was gone. When I say the empty area, I immediately got a dreadful feeling. What could have happened to Carl?
When I walked back home later that day, there was new green grass planted over the empty, dirt patch where Carl used to sit. A week later, there is a bright green parking lot in place of the once empty area of land that bordered Carl's home. I have not seen Carl since.
This experience really got me thinking. What is Tokyo's policy toward homeless people? I have seen very few since I've been here, especially considering Tokyo's size. The ones I have seen, at least the ones by themselves, all look like they might be crazy. I see homeless people en masse in parks sometimes, and in boxes in train stations at night. How is it that they allow them in train stations, if they don't allow anyone else to stay inside and wait for first train? What happens to the mentally ill in Tokyo? I learned in a class once that Japan has one of the highest ratios of people in mental hospitals in the world. But where are all of these hospitals?
These are the hidden parts of a city. These communities and neighborhoods are much more difficult to explore. But I am beginning to get curious, and perhaps my next Neighborhood Narratives project will deal with these issues. At the very least, I hope that Carl is OK. I hope that he is happy and has found a new home. And I hope that in his new home he does not get usurped for a parking lot anytime soon.
Until last week, that is. One day, I was walking to school and Carl was gone. Not only was he not at his usual spot, none of his stuff was there either. Carl always had a massive amount of junk collected around him. This time, there were remnants of it left: a broken umbrella, an empty lighter, but the vast majority of his stuff was gone. When I say the empty area, I immediately got a dreadful feeling. What could have happened to Carl?
When I walked back home later that day, there was new green grass planted over the empty, dirt patch where Carl used to sit. A week later, there is a bright green parking lot in place of the once empty area of land that bordered Carl's home. I have not seen Carl since.
This experience really got me thinking. What is Tokyo's policy toward homeless people? I have seen very few since I've been here, especially considering Tokyo's size. The ones I have seen, at least the ones by themselves, all look like they might be crazy. I see homeless people en masse in parks sometimes, and in boxes in train stations at night. How is it that they allow them in train stations, if they don't allow anyone else to stay inside and wait for first train? What happens to the mentally ill in Tokyo? I learned in a class once that Japan has one of the highest ratios of people in mental hospitals in the world. But where are all of these hospitals?
These are the hidden parts of a city. These communities and neighborhoods are much more difficult to explore. But I am beginning to get curious, and perhaps my next Neighborhood Narratives project will deal with these issues. At the very least, I hope that Carl is OK. I hope that he is happy and has found a new home. And I hope that in his new home he does not get usurped for a parking lot anytime soon.
Friday, March 2, 2007
Final Project Hajimemasho!
I had my first interview today for my final project and it was awesome! The whole experience was so interesting it got me so excited to work on this.
I went to a local temple in Azabu Juban to interview the monk there and try to begin to understand how the temple acts in the community.
When I first got there, the outside grounds were filled with small children and their mothers. Tables were set up with food and goodies and everyone was enjoying playing, running around and eating. I was immediately welcomed inside and served a huge plate of delicious food. The picnic was in celebration of Girl's Day, which is officially tomorrow. Little onigiri dressed up in an egg "coat" were made to look like ohinasama, the little girl god prayed to for girls' health and happiness on this day.
I met the whole family of the temple. This celebration was a family affair with each member making one or two of the many dishes that were served. Everyone was so nice and welcoming and I immediately felt the close knit community that exists there.
I met the head monk and watched as he played games with children, running around with them in a sweatshirt and a track suit. There were little kids everywhere, riding on tricycles and playing jump rope, their attentive parents close by. For the monk, parent involvement is very important. One of the first things he said to me was that this program is different than a regular day care because the parents are not simply paying someone to take care of their kids, but doing activities with their children. He believes that this strengthens the bond between parents and children, and these bonds will last with the children through adolecense and into adulthood.
After taking some pictures of incredibly cute Japanse kids, we started the interview. All in all, it went well. He answered my questions honestly and thouroughly. The only unfortunate part was the camera battery, which died halfway through the last (and argueably most interesting) question.
I will go back to the temple later this month to interview some danka, or temple patrons, and watch a ceremony for a traditional holiday.
The monk was so excited that i was working on this project and he will come to Harajuku to see the exhibition. I am getting really excited to work on this project, and hopefully I will do a good job representing these amazing people.
I went to a local temple in Azabu Juban to interview the monk there and try to begin to understand how the temple acts in the community.
When I first got there, the outside grounds were filled with small children and their mothers. Tables were set up with food and goodies and everyone was enjoying playing, running around and eating. I was immediately welcomed inside and served a huge plate of delicious food. The picnic was in celebration of Girl's Day, which is officially tomorrow. Little onigiri dressed up in an egg "coat" were made to look like ohinasama, the little girl god prayed to for girls' health and happiness on this day.
I met the whole family of the temple. This celebration was a family affair with each member making one or two of the many dishes that were served. Everyone was so nice and welcoming and I immediately felt the close knit community that exists there.
I met the head monk and watched as he played games with children, running around with them in a sweatshirt and a track suit. There were little kids everywhere, riding on tricycles and playing jump rope, their attentive parents close by. For the monk, parent involvement is very important. One of the first things he said to me was that this program is different than a regular day care because the parents are not simply paying someone to take care of their kids, but doing activities with their children. He believes that this strengthens the bond between parents and children, and these bonds will last with the children through adolecense and into adulthood.
After taking some pictures of incredibly cute Japanse kids, we started the interview. All in all, it went well. He answered my questions honestly and thouroughly. The only unfortunate part was the camera battery, which died halfway through the last (and argueably most interesting) question.
I will go back to the temple later this month to interview some danka, or temple patrons, and watch a ceremony for a traditional holiday.
The monk was so excited that i was working on this project and he will come to Harajuku to see the exhibition. I am getting really excited to work on this project, and hopefully I will do a good job representing these amazing people.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Final Project Proposal
For my final project, I would like to examine the role of the Zen Buddhist temple in modern Japanese society. How are temples related to the neighborhoods in which they exist and what functions do they perform for their society? How does the social role temples relate to its religious objectives? How is this different from Western conceptions of Japanese Zen Buddhism?
I would like to focus on one or possibly two temples around Tokyo. I would like to interview officials at the temple such as monks, clerical workers, etc. and people who frequent the temple. From the interviews, I would like to have an oral history of the temple as well as a discussion of what the temple and Zen Buddhism in general means to people. I would like to understand how people's religious beliefs are reflected in their daily activities. The final project form will be a documentary.
I would like to focus on one or possibly two temples around Tokyo. I would like to interview officials at the temple such as monks, clerical workers, etc. and people who frequent the temple. From the interviews, I would like to have an oral history of the temple as well as a discussion of what the temple and Zen Buddhism in general means to people. I would like to understand how people's religious beliefs are reflected in their daily activities. The final project form will be a documentary.
Tuesday, February 6, 2007
Study Question #2-Labyrinths
Labyrinth:
1.
an intricate combination of paths or passages in which it is difficult to find one's way or to reach the exit.
2.
a maze of paths bordered by high hedges, as in a park or garden, for the amusement of those who search for a way out.
3.
a complicated or tortuous arrangement, as of streets or buildings.
4.
any confusingly intricate state of things or events; a bewildering complex.
5.
(initial capital letter) Classical Mythology. a vast maze built in Crete by Daedalus, at the command of King Minos, to house the Minotaur.
6.
Anatomy.
a.
the internal ear, consisting of a bony portion (bony labyrinth) and a membranous portion (membranous labyrinth).
b.
the aggregate of air chambers in the ethmoid bone, between the eye and the upper part of the nose.
7.
a mazelike pattern inlaid in the pavement of a church.
8.
a loudspeaker enclosure with air chambers at the rear for absorbing sound waves radiating in one direction so as to prevent their interference with waves radiated in another direction.
Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1)Based on the Random House Unabridged Dictionary, © Random House, Inc. 2006
Whoa...that's a lot of definitions for one word. However, for my purposes I think definitions 1, 3, & 4 are mainly what I'm thinking about.
Tokyo certainly can be described as a labyrinth. I constantly find myself getting lost in this city, and I'm scared to wander in fear that I'll go into some weird sub-neighborhood and never find my way out onto the main street again. The buildings here are so tall that you can never see very far ahead where you're going. The labyrinth of Tokyo is incredibly intricate. While less attention was paid to the overarching layout of the city, each neighborhood or district was built to be shaped in its own unique way. While this clearly makes things more confusing for the traveller or non-Tokyoite, people who live here must know their own neighborhoods in a very intimate way. In order to get around easily, one must understand where every side street and back alley in their neighborhood leads and how to get from every potential point A and every potential point B in the most expedient way.
Technology is changing this relationship of people to their areas, especially in Tokyo. Rather than having to know everything by rote memory, we have sophisticated GPS systems to tell us where we're going. If we get lost on our way to a friend's house, all we need to do is use our cell phone to call them and figure out where we're going. Maps of areas are posted on the internet and widely available to anyone that needs one. Tokyo's labyrinth is becoming demystified by technology. This is great for someone like me who has a terrible sense of direction to begin with and only gets more confused in a place where I have trouble reading a lot of the street signs, if there even is a street sign to read.
But I think technology is also beginning to enable people too much. It's so frusterating to be in a car where the GPS is babbling at you to turn around when you know you're going the right direction. And I hate it when cab drivers get lost because navigation can't find the location I'm going to. Because its so easy for me to have people give me directions, I never bother to orient myself and I need the same directions in reverse in order to get home. As the technology gets better, I think this problem is only going to get worse. It will be so easy to get somewhere but people will think less about how they got there. While better technology will certanily allow more people to travel further, it will make people less aware of the world around them. People will be better connected to each other but will not understand how they are connected.
1.
an intricate combination of paths or passages in which it is difficult to find one's way or to reach the exit.
2.
a maze of paths bordered by high hedges, as in a park or garden, for the amusement of those who search for a way out.
3.
a complicated or tortuous arrangement, as of streets or buildings.
4.
any confusingly intricate state of things or events; a bewildering complex.
5.
(initial capital letter) Classical Mythology. a vast maze built in Crete by Daedalus, at the command of King Minos, to house the Minotaur.
6.
Anatomy.
a.
the internal ear, consisting of a bony portion (bony labyrinth) and a membranous portion (membranous labyrinth).
b.
the aggregate of air chambers in the ethmoid bone, between the eye and the upper part of the nose.
7.
a mazelike pattern inlaid in the pavement of a church.
8.
a loudspeaker enclosure with air chambers at the rear for absorbing sound waves radiating in one direction so as to prevent their interference with waves radiated in another direction.
Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1)Based on the Random House Unabridged Dictionary, © Random House, Inc. 2006
Whoa...that's a lot of definitions for one word. However, for my purposes I think definitions 1, 3, & 4 are mainly what I'm thinking about.
Tokyo certainly can be described as a labyrinth. I constantly find myself getting lost in this city, and I'm scared to wander in fear that I'll go into some weird sub-neighborhood and never find my way out onto the main street again. The buildings here are so tall that you can never see very far ahead where you're going. The labyrinth of Tokyo is incredibly intricate. While less attention was paid to the overarching layout of the city, each neighborhood or district was built to be shaped in its own unique way. While this clearly makes things more confusing for the traveller or non-Tokyoite, people who live here must know their own neighborhoods in a very intimate way. In order to get around easily, one must understand where every side street and back alley in their neighborhood leads and how to get from every potential point A and every potential point B in the most expedient way.
Technology is changing this relationship of people to their areas, especially in Tokyo. Rather than having to know everything by rote memory, we have sophisticated GPS systems to tell us where we're going. If we get lost on our way to a friend's house, all we need to do is use our cell phone to call them and figure out where we're going. Maps of areas are posted on the internet and widely available to anyone that needs one. Tokyo's labyrinth is becoming demystified by technology. This is great for someone like me who has a terrible sense of direction to begin with and only gets more confused in a place where I have trouble reading a lot of the street signs, if there even is a street sign to read.
But I think technology is also beginning to enable people too much. It's so frusterating to be in a car where the GPS is babbling at you to turn around when you know you're going the right direction. And I hate it when cab drivers get lost because navigation can't find the location I'm going to. Because its so easy for me to have people give me directions, I never bother to orient myself and I need the same directions in reverse in order to get home. As the technology gets better, I think this problem is only going to get worse. It will be so easy to get somewhere but people will think less about how they got there. While better technology will certanily allow more people to travel further, it will make people less aware of the world around them. People will be better connected to each other but will not understand how they are connected.
Crazy Shrine Men
Last weekend I went to Sapporo for the annual Yuki Matsuri (snow festival). I got there on Saturday, which also happens to be Sentsubun Hi. Setsubun Hi is a traditional Japanese holiday where people (mostly children I think) dress up like monsters while people throw roasted beans on them. This is done to ward off the evil spirits and welcome the good ones for the new year.
I really wanted the chance to throw beans at cute Japanese children dressed up like demons so my first destination in Sapporo was the Hokkaido Shrine. Sadly, I got there at 1:30 which I discovered is half an hour after the celebration ended. The shrine was still crowded, though, so I walked around it and looked around for a while. I'm discovering that all shrines are layed out pretty similarly.
The weird thing about my visit was that once again a man approached me and started to talk to me in English. This one was much more visibly strange than the last. He was wearing all bright red and had about 6 cameras around his neck. He asked us where we were from and when someone in my group said Pennsylvania and another said California he immediately replied by referencing the two ships that the Japanese bombed at Pearl Harbor. What a way to start a conversation, I thought. He went on to talk to us in broken English (even though I kept trying to get him to speak Japanese in the hopes of understanding him better) about how he was a soldier and about Japan in WWII. First of all, this guy definitely wasn't old enough to be a soldier when Japan had a standing army, and second of all, he was being rather tactless in his discussion of WWII around a group of Americans. He started talking about Iwo Jima and when my friend mentioned that his great uncle died at Iwo Jima his demeanor towards my friend changed completely. He insisted on taking a picture with the kid because "he was a soldier". When I didn't know who the director of the new movie about Iwo Jima is the man called me stupid. I was quite confused why he was being so abrasive while being so jovial. We kept trying to leave but the man wouldn't stop talking. Eventually, we hurried him along and went on our way.
Strange that the past two times I've visited Shinto shrines I've been confronted by men who want to talk about WWII and Japanese power with me. I am definitely beginning to think its true that they feel that they can get away with this talk around me because I am a foreigner. I also am starting to think that these men long for the days of State Shinto, when Shinto was institutionalized and the emperor was God. I haven't seen these men at Buddhist temples, only at shrines. Both times they have approached me because I was a foreigner-our conversations always begin in English and the first question they ask me is where I am from. Once I say America, the rant begins and I am left to silently stand there and listen. While I always find our chats interesting, I'm starting to get a little weirded out by them. If I ever get approached again, I think I will lie and say I am from South Africa...I am curious to see how our conversation would develop from there.
I really wanted the chance to throw beans at cute Japanese children dressed up like demons so my first destination in Sapporo was the Hokkaido Shrine. Sadly, I got there at 1:30 which I discovered is half an hour after the celebration ended. The shrine was still crowded, though, so I walked around it and looked around for a while. I'm discovering that all shrines are layed out pretty similarly.
The weird thing about my visit was that once again a man approached me and started to talk to me in English. This one was much more visibly strange than the last. He was wearing all bright red and had about 6 cameras around his neck. He asked us where we were from and when someone in my group said Pennsylvania and another said California he immediately replied by referencing the two ships that the Japanese bombed at Pearl Harbor. What a way to start a conversation, I thought. He went on to talk to us in broken English (even though I kept trying to get him to speak Japanese in the hopes of understanding him better) about how he was a soldier and about Japan in WWII. First of all, this guy definitely wasn't old enough to be a soldier when Japan had a standing army, and second of all, he was being rather tactless in his discussion of WWII around a group of Americans. He started talking about Iwo Jima and when my friend mentioned that his great uncle died at Iwo Jima his demeanor towards my friend changed completely. He insisted on taking a picture with the kid because "he was a soldier". When I didn't know who the director of the new movie about Iwo Jima is the man called me stupid. I was quite confused why he was being so abrasive while being so jovial. We kept trying to leave but the man wouldn't stop talking. Eventually, we hurried him along and went on our way.
Strange that the past two times I've visited Shinto shrines I've been confronted by men who want to talk about WWII and Japanese power with me. I am definitely beginning to think its true that they feel that they can get away with this talk around me because I am a foreigner. I also am starting to think that these men long for the days of State Shinto, when Shinto was institutionalized and the emperor was God. I haven't seen these men at Buddhist temples, only at shrines. Both times they have approached me because I was a foreigner-our conversations always begin in English and the first question they ask me is where I am from. Once I say America, the rant begins and I am left to silently stand there and listen. While I always find our chats interesting, I'm starting to get a little weirded out by them. If I ever get approached again, I think I will lie and say I am from South Africa...I am curious to see how our conversation would develop from there.
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Study Question #1
I have been in Tokyo for three weeks now and so far, adjusting to life here has been a difficult experience for me. Don't get me wrong, I'm not homesick; I'm actually really happy here. I have seen a lot of cool things, met some great people and had a lot of interesting adventures thus far. However, I am discovering that I don't persay like Tokyo very much. Perhaps I was never meant to be a city person, I miss trees a lot, but I think Tokyo is different from a lot of American cities I've seen.
First of all, sometimes Japanese can be really obnoxious. I don't feel welcome at all when 10 high pitched girls all yell "irasshaimase" in sync whenever I walk into a shop or restaurant. And, sometimes I feel like all the flashing lights and are going to give me a serious headache. Crowds are pushy and everyone seems very hurried and impersonal. I have noticed though that when you talk to people here that impersonal manner vanishes instantly and everyone I have met here has been incredibly helpful and friendly.
The buildings, for the most part, are pretty ugly. I think that Ritchie would agree that the Japanese like their structures to be highly functional. Aesthetic consderations often seem to be secondary. For example, the triple highways you see everywhere are huge and gray and very displeasing to look at. I can see why things like triple highways and clearly marked footbridges are useful but it would be nice if they could be prettier. I think the impermanence that Ritchie discusses is based in this functional approach. Once a building is not being ultimately purposeful it is torn down, and a new, more useful structure is erected. The subway is a perfect example of the Tokyo mindset, perfectily on time and spotlessly clean. This city functions like a well oiled machine.
Of course, there are the places in Tokyo I love, delicious restuarants you can only find by going six flights up, my little neigborhood which strikes a perfect balance between a big city atmosphere and wonderfuly quaint, and the shrines and temples you come across whenever you're walking around. I love that there is always more to see and more new places to explore. Even on my walk home from school I see new things everyday. And perhaps by living here I will begin to see the differences between places. Tokyo was founded, after all, not as a cohesive city but as a group of small neighborhoods. One day I will be able to distinguish the tall buildings and bright lights from each other and start to see the different areas of Tokyo for their individual characteristics and charms. I think on that day, the meaning of this city will change for me and I will begin to feel like I truly live here.
First of all, sometimes Japanese can be really obnoxious. I don't feel welcome at all when 10 high pitched girls all yell "irasshaimase" in sync whenever I walk into a shop or restaurant. And, sometimes I feel like all the flashing lights and are going to give me a serious headache. Crowds are pushy and everyone seems very hurried and impersonal. I have noticed though that when you talk to people here that impersonal manner vanishes instantly and everyone I have met here has been incredibly helpful and friendly.
The buildings, for the most part, are pretty ugly. I think that Ritchie would agree that the Japanese like their structures to be highly functional. Aesthetic consderations often seem to be secondary. For example, the triple highways you see everywhere are huge and gray and very displeasing to look at. I can see why things like triple highways and clearly marked footbridges are useful but it would be nice if they could be prettier. I think the impermanence that Ritchie discusses is based in this functional approach. Once a building is not being ultimately purposeful it is torn down, and a new, more useful structure is erected. The subway is a perfect example of the Tokyo mindset, perfectily on time and spotlessly clean. This city functions like a well oiled machine.
Of course, there are the places in Tokyo I love, delicious restuarants you can only find by going six flights up, my little neigborhood which strikes a perfect balance between a big city atmosphere and wonderfuly quaint, and the shrines and temples you come across whenever you're walking around. I love that there is always more to see and more new places to explore. Even on my walk home from school I see new things everyday. And perhaps by living here I will begin to see the differences between places. Tokyo was founded, after all, not as a cohesive city but as a group of small neighborhoods. One day I will be able to distinguish the tall buildings and bright lights from each other and start to see the different areas of Tokyo for their individual characteristics and charms. I think on that day, the meaning of this city will change for me and I will begin to feel like I truly live here.
Monday, January 22, 2007
1st Project Visit #3
I just returned from my 3rd and most interesting visit from the shrine. Today my goal was to interact with some people at the shrine and I had the idea of buying “omamori” from the stand there. Omamori are essentially Shinto good luck charms. There is omamori for all different sorts of wishes. Safety while driving, scoring well on entrance exams finding a partner, and happiness are just a few examples. Today the shrine was almost completely empty and I was surprised to see so few people there. The big fire that I had seen the last two times also wasn't there. I went up to the stand and asked the woman working there what the different kinds of omamori meant. She was wearing big flowing orange pants and a white top. I chose two types of omamori, one for my boyfriend who is visiting right now and came to the shrine with me and one for myself. Mine is little and shaped like a monkey and wishes for happiness. His wish is for safety while driving as he recently got in a fairly bad accident. The woman seemed happy to explain the omamori to me and was very helpful. I took a few pictures of the stand after asking permission. In addition, rather than just watch people pray at the shrine, today I too walked up the steps to the offertory, threw my coin in, rang the bell and said a short prayer.
To be honest, before I went to the shrine I thought that doing that would be a good level of interaction to have for today’s assignment. However, as I was walking around a man approached me and completely changed my experience. He started by asking me in English where I was from. I told him that I was from America and we got to chatting a little about basic introduction type stuff. When he didn’t understand something I said, I repeated in Japanese and once he realized I could speak well we started conversing in Japanese. We had a long conversation, I would estimate about a half and hour and we talked about so much. He started out by saying that he was Shinto and that he was very interested in Japanese culture and he was greatly saddened by the decline of religion and traditional culture in Japan. He told me that a lot of Japanese don’t know very much about Shinto anymore and it’s upsetting to him. For example, you’re not supposed to take pictures in shrines because it angers the gods. I apologized to him because right before we had begun talking I had been snapping away. He said he wasn’t upset at me because I was a foreigner and have no way of knowing these things but Japanese should at least know their own culture. He also said that you’re not supposed to walk down the middle path in shrines because that is reserved for the gods, yet everyone walks down that path nowadays. He explained some things about Shinto to me, which was really helpful because I had been wondering these things every time I went there. Shinto has over 10 million different gods. Apparently this shrine is dedicated to the mountain god and for this reason there are monkey statues all around. Monkeys live in the mountains and are considered these gods helpers. They are also good for fertility, which is why many of the monkey statues are holding children. The water you wash your hands with outside the shrine has to do with the first man and first woman who were created from drops of water.
The man I met also talked about a lot of rather unrelated things that I found pretty surprising. He faulted the decline of religion in Japan to Teddy Roosevelt who believed Japan would be too difficult to manipulate if it had a strong religious core. I told him that I come to this shrine often and always see plenty of people here so why do people still come if they don’t believe properly. His response was that he wasn’t sure but he believed that Shinto was embedded in Japanese DNA. A sort of odd response but I let it slide. He talked about the Russo-Japan War and Japan’s defeat in World War II. He believed that Japan lost, in part, because farmers became soldiers and were not subject to the intense training of the samurai and therefore not as well prepared to fight. At this point, I realized he is probably a pretty intense nationalist but he was interesting so I didn’t try to argue or cut him off. He reiterated his interest in Japanese culture and said that it is sad to him that kimonos are not handmade in Japan anymore. He told me that he has kimonos that are over 80 years old in his house and you just can’t buy good kimonos anymore.
Overall, it was a very strange encounter but an interesting one at least. I was grateful to have someone explain some aspects of Shinto to me and hear an opinion about the role of Shinto in the lives of regular Japanese. Even his tangents were interesting although I was confused as to why he told me so much. In the end though, I feel lucky he approached me because I would not have known nearly as much about the shrine without him.
To be honest, before I went to the shrine I thought that doing that would be a good level of interaction to have for today’s assignment. However, as I was walking around a man approached me and completely changed my experience. He started by asking me in English where I was from. I told him that I was from America and we got to chatting a little about basic introduction type stuff. When he didn’t understand something I said, I repeated in Japanese and once he realized I could speak well we started conversing in Japanese. We had a long conversation, I would estimate about a half and hour and we talked about so much. He started out by saying that he was Shinto and that he was very interested in Japanese culture and he was greatly saddened by the decline of religion and traditional culture in Japan. He told me that a lot of Japanese don’t know very much about Shinto anymore and it’s upsetting to him. For example, you’re not supposed to take pictures in shrines because it angers the gods. I apologized to him because right before we had begun talking I had been snapping away. He said he wasn’t upset at me because I was a foreigner and have no way of knowing these things but Japanese should at least know their own culture. He also said that you’re not supposed to walk down the middle path in shrines because that is reserved for the gods, yet everyone walks down that path nowadays. He explained some things about Shinto to me, which was really helpful because I had been wondering these things every time I went there. Shinto has over 10 million different gods. Apparently this shrine is dedicated to the mountain god and for this reason there are monkey statues all around. Monkeys live in the mountains and are considered these gods helpers. They are also good for fertility, which is why many of the monkey statues are holding children. The water you wash your hands with outside the shrine has to do with the first man and first woman who were created from drops of water.
The man I met also talked about a lot of rather unrelated things that I found pretty surprising. He faulted the decline of religion in Japan to Teddy Roosevelt who believed Japan would be too difficult to manipulate if it had a strong religious core. I told him that I come to this shrine often and always see plenty of people here so why do people still come if they don’t believe properly. His response was that he wasn’t sure but he believed that Shinto was embedded in Japanese DNA. A sort of odd response but I let it slide. He talked about the Russo-Japan War and Japan’s defeat in World War II. He believed that Japan lost, in part, because farmers became soldiers and were not subject to the intense training of the samurai and therefore not as well prepared to fight. At this point, I realized he is probably a pretty intense nationalist but he was interesting so I didn’t try to argue or cut him off. He reiterated his interest in Japanese culture and said that it is sad to him that kimonos are not handmade in Japan anymore. He told me that he has kimonos that are over 80 years old in his house and you just can’t buy good kimonos anymore.
Overall, it was a very strange encounter but an interesting one at least. I was grateful to have someone explain some aspects of Shinto to me and hear an opinion about the role of Shinto in the lives of regular Japanese. Even his tangents were interesting although I was confused as to why he told me so much. In the end though, I feel lucky he approached me because I would not have known nearly as much about the shrine without him.
Sunday, January 14, 2007
1st Project Visit #1
I am here at the shrine near my dorm in Akasaka as the first part of my first Neighborhood Narratives project. The assignment: bring nothing but a journal and record your observations in a local neighborhood. I came to this shrine last Sunday, and, as the New Year's celebrations were still in full swing, the place was packed. On this Sunday evening, there are no where near as many people, although the place is by no means empty. However, today there are no stands of merchants selling takoyaki or other concessions you would expect to find at a fair. People are here by themselves, or in groups of twos and threes. Lots of couples and a few families with small children.
My first impression as I arrived at the shrine was that this must be the Shinto version of those American Christian Protestant mega-churches. It is set in the midst of tall buildings containing very important businesses and the tori gates, rather than being red and wooden, are massive and completely made of grey granite. There are about a million steps leading up to the shrine and an escalator along the side for those who don't feel up to the hike. Next to the shrine is a restaurant that looks rather nice. As I enter the main shrine grounds a number of things strike me. First, is the smell of woodsmoke and the large fire that is going on. In front of the sight is a big white sign with black characters. I write down the characters and vow to look them up later. Ther other strange thing is the chicken coop at the front entrance full of mostly sleeping chickens. Unlike last weekend, only one stand is open today selling the white pieces of paper and wooden plaques that people write prayers and messages on. I know almost nothing about Shinto and I find myself wishing I understood what was going on.
Someone just banged on what sounds like a very very big drum. I can feel the echo of the boom on the ground under my feet. It's kinda scary!
There is a short line up to the main shrine area and people take their turn ringing the bell, throwing in a coin and clapping their hands twice. No one else seems phased by the booming and, as it continues, I'm getting used to it to. It's 5 o'clock now. Some people are starting to leave, I'm beginning to think they might be closing. Do shrines close? The stand of trinkets is still open so I think I might be OK for a few more minutes.
I write down the name of the shrine in kanji, just so I won't forget it. I've noticed a lot of things about shrines in Japan that all seem to be the same. There are the big red flags with the names of local business sponsors. There is the wall of big tubs filled with sake. I think the sake is dedicated when the shrine first opens so this sake must be very old. But, come to think of it, I have no idea how old this shrine is.
Religion in Japan strikes me as being very different than religion in America. Some of the difference I think stems from the nature of Shinto and some of it from the nature of Japanese. Although, perhaps I don't know enought about either to make that statement. The people I see at the shrine look very relaxed. Coming here is a very natural part of their lives. It also looks very personal to me. Rather than being very loud and outspoken about their beliefs, they almost goes without saying. The people I'm looking at look like they are having normal, everyday conversations unrelated to their visit to the shrine. They could just as easily be shopping or going to eat. Little kids are running around, playing. However, something about the atmosphere of this place has an effect on people. They are slightly more reverant perhaps.
Those who work at the shrine are dressed in religious-looking clothing. Big white flowy pants and solid colored pants. I only see men that are dressed like this.
I'm curious to see what this place looks like on a weekday. I've only been here on Sunday and there's always been plenty of people here. Are there any times when there are no people around?
As I leave, I'm immediately thrown back into reality. I am in Tokyo and the streets are loud and busy and full of lights. It seems strange that this peaceful, reflective place can exist in the midst of all of this. Religion and everyday life seem to co-exist so naturally in Japan. I'm curious about this maybe a few more visits here will help me understand better.
My first impression as I arrived at the shrine was that this must be the Shinto version of those American Christian Protestant mega-churches. It is set in the midst of tall buildings containing very important businesses and the tori gates, rather than being red and wooden, are massive and completely made of grey granite. There are about a million steps leading up to the shrine and an escalator along the side for those who don't feel up to the hike. Next to the shrine is a restaurant that looks rather nice. As I enter the main shrine grounds a number of things strike me. First, is the smell of woodsmoke and the large fire that is going on. In front of the sight is a big white sign with black characters. I write down the characters and vow to look them up later. Ther other strange thing is the chicken coop at the front entrance full of mostly sleeping chickens. Unlike last weekend, only one stand is open today selling the white pieces of paper and wooden plaques that people write prayers and messages on. I know almost nothing about Shinto and I find myself wishing I understood what was going on.
Someone just banged on what sounds like a very very big drum. I can feel the echo of the boom on the ground under my feet. It's kinda scary!
There is a short line up to the main shrine area and people take their turn ringing the bell, throwing in a coin and clapping their hands twice. No one else seems phased by the booming and, as it continues, I'm getting used to it to. It's 5 o'clock now. Some people are starting to leave, I'm beginning to think they might be closing. Do shrines close? The stand of trinkets is still open so I think I might be OK for a few more minutes.
I write down the name of the shrine in kanji, just so I won't forget it. I've noticed a lot of things about shrines in Japan that all seem to be the same. There are the big red flags with the names of local business sponsors. There is the wall of big tubs filled with sake. I think the sake is dedicated when the shrine first opens so this sake must be very old. But, come to think of it, I have no idea how old this shrine is.
Religion in Japan strikes me as being very different than religion in America. Some of the difference I think stems from the nature of Shinto and some of it from the nature of Japanese. Although, perhaps I don't know enought about either to make that statement. The people I see at the shrine look very relaxed. Coming here is a very natural part of their lives. It also looks very personal to me. Rather than being very loud and outspoken about their beliefs, they almost goes without saying. The people I'm looking at look like they are having normal, everyday conversations unrelated to their visit to the shrine. They could just as easily be shopping or going to eat. Little kids are running around, playing. However, something about the atmosphere of this place has an effect on people. They are slightly more reverant perhaps.
Those who work at the shrine are dressed in religious-looking clothing. Big white flowy pants and solid colored pants. I only see men that are dressed like this.
I'm curious to see what this place looks like on a weekday. I've only been here on Sunday and there's always been plenty of people here. Are there any times when there are no people around?
As I leave, I'm immediately thrown back into reality. I am in Tokyo and the streets are loud and busy and full of lights. It seems strange that this peaceful, reflective place can exist in the midst of all of this. Religion and everyday life seem to co-exist so naturally in Japan. I'm curious about this maybe a few more visits here will help me understand better.
Saturday, January 13, 2007
Welcome to my blog!
I am creating this blog for my Neighborhood Narratives class at Temple University. I am studying abroad here in Tokyo for one semester and am going to attempt to keep a journal of my activities and whereabouts. Enjoy!
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