Volcano Visit

    Two hours north from Haneda airport (think: Laguardia) lands a Tokyoite in Chitose Airport, Hokkaido ("North Sea circuit"), the prefecture closest to Siberia. When picking up dinner in Peacock Supa (market) in the Juban all dairy products are stamped from Hokkaido, and during rainy season it is famously dry. Sayonara humidity, konnichiwa rolling green hills reminiscent of upstate New York! Cows and farm buildings could be borrowed from any TV Western, and long stretches of road without a car in sight are not unlike our own stretch of Route 57 in Massachusetts. Traffic signs in nihongo, as well as road crews every few minutes, are constant reminders that we are in new territory. As we have been warned not to disturb the local cops,  every car that comes by passes us.

    After driving through many small villages with main streets that would be comfortable in South Dakota, at last we arrive at the Hilton Resort, Niseko, facing the ancient volcano Yoteizan (Mt Yotei).  In winter it is a haven for skiers, but now it provides cool breezes in the evening.  The next day we visit lively volcano, Showashinzan, which only erupted in 1944 as an unlucky omen; it continues to exude smoke in a dramatic manner. No better way to end a day of volcanic visits than a stop at the Hilton onsen (hot spring), which allows for sitting outside in the buff and contemplating Yoteizan. Men and women are segregated, with a discreet bamboo screen dividing the two (remember, this is nude bathing).

    Since Niseko is a ski resort, many restaurants feature a German menu. Why not try one with the attractive name of Mozart? Some cars parked outside are an encouraging sign; inside there appears to be a small flea market in one corner with a huddle of ladies. One has misplaced her wallet, which sends everyone checking under the table. The smiling hostess asks us to remove shoes, offering slippers. Chief, cook and bottlewash she disappears into the kitchen to cook up three huge sized authentic Viennese schnitzels with fresh asparagus, while her neko-chan (cat) wanders through the dining area. Amy Winehouse music wafting in the background, can Tokyoites ask for more?

  

  

Selecting a Toro (Japanese Stone Lantern)

     "If you want a nice toro for a reasonable rate, I am happy to introduce you to the owner of a local shop," said tomodachi san.  With a wedding anniversary looming and endless remarks from shujin (husband) upon viewing Japanese stone lanterns around town, the offer was accepted instantly. Temples and shrines on every Tokyo corner boast at least one granite ishidoro (ishi = stone, toro = lantern): a hollowed out, lidded candle holder weighing about a ton perched upon a pedestal carved from stone. Since the sixth century these exalted carvings have lit the path for worshippers along ancient routes, with 2,000 lighting the way in Nara to the Daibutsu (Great Buddha). During the Edo Period they were adapted as decorative touches to private gardens. While to the Western eye the stone sometimes appear chunky or even awkward, they symbolize the light that Buddha sheds upon human ignorance.  

    One dull Saturday afternoon at Ebisu eki, tomodachi san collected us and we headed to Setagaya (one of Tokyo's 23 wards). First stop was a stone mason's yard in the neighborhood known as Yoga (no relation to the Indian practice). "Please use this bug spray," admonished tomodachi san, who was well aware that stones are a breeding ground for Tokyo's blood thirsty mosquitoes. Within minutes our ankles were covered in welts, as we browsed the many styles of toro. Since the proprietor was nowhere to be found, we moved on to the second stop: a gallery of lanterns below the Shuto Expressway behind the local Book Off (used book shop chain). The owner, an elderly gent, emerged from the building. When asked for a price, he sucked his teeth, the Japanese signal of reluctance: The lantern in question was made in China, a copy, so not a good choice. No price was quoted.

   Climbing up the fire escape to another level, more lanterns were examined. Each selection was rejected as not worthy of a sale ("That one is from Korea"). Unlike Western salesmen, this proprietor did not seem eager for business. Back down on the ground, we entered the showroom. A lantern with no price tag beckoned, and the proprietor looked in his price book: It was for sale at a reasonable price! But what about delivery? Generous tomodachi-san offered to drive it to the Manor. The proprietor wrapped the three part toro in burlap and climbed into the trunk of the car to tuck it in carefully. In his office he produced a bill of sale with the official hanko (seal), which was ceremonially handed over to shujin. Out of the shop we rode, victorious, proud owners of a toro that will live out its days in the Berkshire hills of Massachusetts.

Ozu Washi Shop, Nihonbashi

       After two years of investing in endless packets of mitsu matagami type washi (literally wa for Japanese, shi for paper) in shodo (calligraphy) class, some tomodachis indulged me in a visit to Ozu Washi. Since 17th c samurai days Tokyoites have traveled to the shop to buy their washi. Museums proudly display scrolls from the Edo Period and earlier, proving the durability of this cottony textured  paper. Ozu offers the option of making your own washi and this group is ready to roll up our sleeves. Via Ginza line to the old Nihonbashi part of town, we rendezvoused at Mitsukoshimae (in front of the Mitsukoshi depato), passing eager shoppers lining up in anticipation of their day's sport.

    Ten minutes by foot from Exit A3 led to a shop in the shadow of the overhead Shuto expressway. Our Ozu guide stepped on the street to introduce us to the kozo (mulberry) trees that grow in front of the shop:  Washing and boiling the bark results in washi pulp. Ushering us inside she instructed us to remove watches and rings since we must immerse our arms into an icy bath of mashed pulp; many thousands of dollars of jewelry tucked away in pocketbooks and locked in a classroom, the obedient group followed to the workshop.

     Aprons on everyone! She introduced us to the craftsman who walks us through the paces: Stand by the sukibune (tub), grab the sugeta (screened tray), dunk into the slimy liquid and jostle while counting to 20. Excellent way to build biceps! Repeat. Drain the wet sheet by passing over a vacuum, place on a frame and design using materials at hand (liquid dyes, confetti, string). Allow to dry on a heated iron and you have a unique sheet of washi. Sugoi! Kozogami with its clothlike texture is suitable for clothing; a wedding dress is on display in the showroom. Technology has streamlined the ancient system of washing and hanging out to dry on the line for hours or days. Browsing the shop for one hour, drawers full of washi tempted and we succumbed.  


    

Rikugien (Six Elements Garden)

    Ten stops from the  Manor on the Namboku line (Y 160) transports the Tokyoite back 300 years to an Edo period garden called Rikugien. Just at the time of the 47 ronin the powerful daimyo (feudal lord) Yanagisawa created his green masterpiece. Based on the six elements of waka (poetry), Yanagisawa-sama forged trails around a central ike (pond). Taking 88 poems Yanagisawa set out to bring waka to life; of these 32 remain for the modern visitor who wishes to buy a ticket at the quaint entry booth (Y300). Rikugien is one of nine feudal estates now open to the public as Metropolitan Gardens.

    "Shall we bring Mme G to Rikugien?" posed tomodachi-san on the last day of shodo (calligraphy) class. Despite cloudy weather predictions, the sky miraculously cleared, the humidity lifted and three shodo students entered the cool oasis. "Shall we take the 30 minute trail or the 60 minute trail?" tomodachi-san asked. After admiring the enormous sakura (cherry tree) a bench in the shade vis-a-vis Fujishiro-toge (Fuji viewing peak) removed further choice. After a long sit-down, the trail led to Chidori-bashi (stone bridge). Below our feet schools of carp and turtles vied for attention. Following the trail to the Takimi-no-chaya (Teahouse) led to a choice of macha (green tea) set: Hot or cold? Iced macha for all proved to be very refreshing.

    "Is there time for a short walk in Yanaka?" asked tomodachi-san, referring to the old part of town. Within 10 minutes we strolled the narrow alleys with its small crafts shops. Who can resist a few sheets of hand printed paper from the washi shop? And a small bean paste ice cream sandwich? Returning to the Namboku line, promises were made to meet on the weekend to visit a stone  mason who carves Japanese lanterns. Mata! (later)!  

View Towards Kankoku (Korea)

     "What a great concert Rain gave at Zepp Tokyo last night," reported obaasan (grandmother) of five at English Conversation group. Unlike capacious Tokyo Dome that can accommodate thousands, Zepp Tokyo is the intimate club where I watched Bob Dylan croon before hundreds of fans a few months ago. Just two eigo (English) speakers in cream colored cardigans stepped out of rain soaked shoes this week at 11:02, with apologies for late arrival, as the three absentees were out of town this Wednesday. Pop idol Rain (born Jung Ji-Hoon in South Korea) has been included in People magazine's Most Beautiful People issue. Popular Korean imports in Nihon are soap operas and pop stars.

    "Rain is so sexy, although I was embarrassed when he removed his shirt," obaasan elaborated about the 28 year old singer. What is his best feature? "He never had plastic surgery the way other Korean singers do to  make their eyes rounder," she replied, explaining that plastic surgery is widely available in Seoul. "Asian pop stars want to appear more Western and most of them have their eyes done, but he is natural." Did she go alone to Zepp Tokyo? "My friend who likes Rain got the tickets, which were standing room in front of the stage," she said, referring to the mosh pit. Although she worried that standing for 90 minutes would be tiring, staring at her pop idol erased all fatigue.

    Not far from the Manor the South Korean Embassy stands behind a tall gate on Sendaizaka, typically guarded by a battalion of policemen. On weekends organized protests in the form of sound trucks festooned with hinomaru (Japanese flags) drive to the embassy to broadcast anti-Korean views through megaphones and blast military music. "Have you noticed that there are fewer police by the Korean embassy in recent times?" whispered tomodachi san.  Hai, I thought perhaps it was too early in the day for guard duty when I last walked by. Is this reduction a sign of government cutbacks due to the financial crisis, or is it a deliberate message to South Korea?

  

Heisei 22 (2010)

      According to the nihon calendar this Toradoshi (year of the Tiger) marks Heisei 22 (peace everywhere) or the twenty-second year of the era of the current reigning Emperor Akihito. While English royals are the bread and butter of tabloids, the Imperial Family is off-limits to journalists; as a result, the public is starved for scoop on what goes on behind closed doors at the Kokyo (Imperial Residence) deep within the park in Chiyoda-ku.  Known fact: The Emperor fell for his wife, Michiko-sama, in 1957 on a tennis court in Karuizawa, a mountain resort in Nagano Prefecture. Also known: Michiko-sama is the first commoner to sit on the Chrysanthemum Throne. Final fact:  Twice Michiko-sama suffered nervous distress that caused her to lose her voice for many months.

    "I have heard from someone in the Imperial Household that Michiko-sama likes to drink whisky everyday," whispered tomodachi san. "Her favorite is the Scotch label, White Horse." Could it be that her husband's infidelities led her to console herself in this manner? Known fact: Crown Prince Naruhito married for love and now must cope with a wife who suffers from "adjustment disorder." Rumor: Second son Prince Akishino, father of three including the future emperor, often travels to Thailand on so-called business that may involve another woman. What of the Emperor's third child, Sayako-sama, now a woman of 40 and an ornithologist with a specialty in kingfishers? Five years ago she relinquished her position within the Imperial Household upon marrying a commoner whom she met through her brother and fell off the public radar.

   In recent times the Heisei era faces challenges as witnessed by the revolving door of prime ministers. Every autumn the bi-cultural ladies social club organizes a reception attended by the Prime Minister's wife: Mrs. Fukuda in Heisei 19, Mrs. Aso in Heisei 20, Mrs. Hatoyama in Heisei 21. At the moment Mrs. Kan is ruling the roost, but that could change by September Heisei 22.  After 50 years of rule by the LDP (Liberal Democratic Party), the DPJ (Democratic Party of Japan) has assumed the majority position. Despite the unsettled times, during tsuyu (rainy season) in late June Tokyoites can rely on tall banks of ajisai (hydrangea), a changeable flower believed by samurai to reflect a fickle nature.  

The 47 Ronin

    "May I show you Sengakuji?" asked an Eating Out Club tomodachi referring to the temple that is the resting place of the 47 ronin. Touching her nose she indicated herself nihon style rather than with a Western tap on the chest. Hai, how often the #96 bus swept past Sengakuji on the hill in Takanawa about 10 minutes before the Manor stop yet I never stepped out. Cinema buffs familiar with the 1962 Inagaki film know the tale of the samurai who avenged the murder of their daimyo (feudal lord) over 300 years ago. Hard to imagine posh Takanawa with its private schools and fancy supermarkets was once the site of bloodshed.

    In a torrential downpour tomodachi waited like a shimmery apparition beneath a flowery kasa (umbrella) at the # 96 bus stop. Leading across the busy zaka (hill) she told the story of how a Tokugawa daimyo came to blows with the sensei of Imperial protocol in the shogun's palace. "The sensei tried to embarrass his student, the daimyo, who pulled his sword in anger and nicked the sensei's shoulder," she said. After committing this crime the daimyo was forced to commit seppuku (disembowelment or hara-kiri) and his men became ronin (samurai without a lord). After plotting for many months on the 14th December 1702 the ronin broke into the sensei's home, and the tale ends with mass seppuku. "On weekends especially nihonjin from outside Tokyo travel to pay their respects to the ronin," she explained."On December 14th busloads of visitors fill the temple."

    Thanks to the rain the temple was deserted. Inside the courtyard to the left up we climbed up to an incense selling concession; sold in a bundle and prelit, the seller handed it over on a bamboo tray. "Just leave one stick at each grave, we still have many to go," advised tomodachi san, allowing me the honor. Afterwards we toured the small museum with its ronin artifacts (Y500) and watched a short video about the temple. "Are you ready for some fresh mochi from my local shop?" asked tomodachi, referring to the treacherously chewy rice cake. Hai: Mission completed, two 21st century tomodachi walked to a building of mansion flats for afternoon tea.