Downings in Japan

Leaving Japan: Benny and the Jet

2007-04-30T22:27:00.000-07:00

Six months can go by in a hurry. Here I sit in Narita Airport, waiting for the flight that will return us to the U. S., to New Jersey, to family and friends. We are all looking forward to being back home, but at the same time, we have enjoyed living in Tokyo so much that we are sad to leave.

Through the window of the lounge I can see the enormous jet that will take us back. Soon we will be miles up in the air, looking down on Alaska, riding reclining chairs at hundreds of miles an hour, rushing back home.

Soon after that we will be answering the question "What was Japan like? Did you have a good time?" Anyone who has read this blog will have some insights on that already. But how can we answer this question? What can we possibly say to describe the events covering so much time, in a place that started out as foreign to us, but over time became "our" neighborhood?

There's nothing I can write that will suffice. Japan and the States are very different places, and this blog has featured many of those differences. But perhaps more memorable to me are the instances of unexpected commonality. Culture shock and language barriers notwithstanding, we are more alike than we usually recognize. I offer the following anecdote as a farewell tribute.

Cindy and I were in a cab one evening, returning from La Jolla Mexican restaurant in Hiroo. As we headed up the hill past a darkened Arisugawa Park, we left the traffic noise behind, and I began to hear music. The driver, an elderly Japanese man, had a CD in his player. The tune was faint, so as not to disturb his passengers, but soon we were sure of what we were hearing. We smiled at the recognition.

I couldn't resist asking the cabbie about it, in my heavily accented Japanese--"Kore wa Benny Goodman desu ka?" ("Is that Benny Goodman?")

"Hai!" came the reply, and then, in heavily accented English, "Moon-right Selenei-do."

It was a charmed moment, as we realized we had something in common. "Ah, so desu. Ii desu ne" I told him (That's right...it's great, isn't it?)."

"So desu ne" he agreed with a smile, and reached forward to turn up the volume.

Edifice of the Week: Senso-ji Temple

2007-04-14T23:51:00.000-07:00

Senso-ji is located in Asakusa, a neighborhood in Taito-ku, in the northeastern part of Tokyo. The oldest and most popular temple in Tokyo, Senso-ji swarms with visitors. Unlike the Meiji-Jingu Shrine (see "Edifice of the Week: Meiji-Jingu Shrine"), which was a Shinto religious site, this is a Buddhist holy place (though there is an adjoining Shinto shrine). In Japan, shrines are Shinto: temples are Buddhist (or LDS).

It is said that this temple began when in the year 628 AD, two fishermen working in the nearby Sumida river netted a golden image of Kannon, the Buddhist god of mercy. They tried returning it to the river, but it kept reappearing among their things. So they took it to their master, who made his house into a temple in honor of Kannon, featuring the stubborn relic. In time, Senso-ji, a proper temple was built.

Senso-ji owes its popularity to the historical popularity of Asakusa. In a long-ago civic improvement effort, when Edo (Tokyo) became the center of Japanese government, the shogunate banished the local brothels to a rural area north of the city. Asakusa was about halfway to that rural spot, and became the place to stop for food and lodging on the way to or from. Later, when Kabuki theater was also cast out of Edo, it made its home here, making Asakusa the entertainment center of the city. Asakusa retained this title for centuries (even after Kabuki was re-allowed in Edo), and lost it only in the wake of WWII.

Throughout all this time, Senso-ji was widely used. Damaged from time to time by earthquakes and other natural disasters, it was given a major overhaul in 1649, after which time it looked much as it does today. During World War II, it burned down (along with the rest of Asakusa). But not many years afterward, it was rebuilt according to the previous design.

The outer gate to the temple is called the "Kaminarimon" (Thunder Gate) in the picture above. The gate was constructed elsewhere, but moved here probably in the late 1300s, when the statues (below) of Fujin, the wind god and Raijin, the thunder god were placed within it.

People have been making religious pilgrimages to Senso-ji for about fourteen hundred years. In older times, pilgrims needed lodging, food, supplies, and so forth at the end of their trek. To meet that need, vendors lined the route to the temple with stalls and shops. This tradition is kept alive today along the Nakamise Dori, the street leading from the Kaminarimon to the temple.

Here you can buy just about anything Japanese. If you're hungry, there are all kinds of food stalls. You can even get cherry-blossom flavored ice-cream cones at this time of year (my choice on a recent visit, though the "fully mature melon" flavor intrigued me). Souvenirs run the gamut from traditional hand fans (300-yen) to modern five-foot gundam action figures (300,000-yen).

Once you've made it through the shops, you end up at an even bigger gate, Hozomon (Treasure House Gate). It is currently being refurbished, and is all wrapped up.

After coming through Hozomon, you are in the religious heart of the temple complex. On your right is a place you can buy fortunes. You pay your money, and are given a cylindrical container full of sticks. The cylinder has one small hole in one of the ends; through it you shake out a random stick. The stick has a number on it directing you to one of a bank of small drawers, from which you remove a slip of paper containg your fortune.

There are a number of types of blessings, including "big luck," "medium luck," "small luck," "small bad luck," "big bad luck," "future luck," and so on. "Future luck" is actually the most desirable; "big luck" can imply that you are about to reach your peak of luck in life, leaving the long-term future looking pretty bleak. If you get a good fortune, you take it with you; if you get a bad one, you can tie it to a rack near the drawers, and it will not be able to follow you.

After the fortunes place is a window where you can buy incense. You use a lighting stand to ignite it (don't be alarmed by the symbol on the stick; in Japan, a backwards swastika is the symbol for "temple"). You take your stick to the big incense burner in the middle of the courtyard, and stick it upright in the sand. Standing next to the burner, you use your hands to waft the scent over you, breathing it in.

After the incense, you can go to the fountain for ritual washing. This is done in the same way as described earlier at the Meiji Shrine. Following this, you can climb the steps into the temple, make an offering, and say a prayer. You can also linger to look at the beautiful artwork, or look down over the temple courtyard.

There is so much more to see here than I can cover in a blogpost. A nearby five-story pagoda towers beautifully above traditional gardens.

At Senso-ji, what has been blends with what is and what will be. On the steps of a wedding hall, in the shadow of the temple, the future shines from the faces of Japan's newest married couple.

Akai Shingo, Midori-iro Shingo

2007-04-11T15:29:00.000-07:00

What are these girls up to? Oldsters, cast your mind back.

I came across this group in Shinjuku Kyoen, while I was there taking pictures of the cherry blossoms. Have you figured it out yet?

Some things transcend culture; one of the most delightful of these is the inherent playfulness of the young. These girls are playing a game we used to call "red light, green light." Is it odd that a scene played out by strangers in a foreign land should make me nostalgiac for my childhood?

Sakura!

2007-04-08T19:40:00.000-07:00

Have you heard the Japanese song "Sakura," that invites "Come and see the cherry bloom"? I remember learning it in elementary school.

With Spring, sakura (cherry-blossom time) comes to Tokyo. In the U. S., it makes us happy to see cherry blossoms. But here, it is a major cultural event. Folks head the parks--such as Shinjuku Kyoen below--to admire and picnic beneath venerable, enormous cherry trees.

After dark, when the big parks are closed, cherry trees in the neighborhood--in small parks, playgrounds, plazas, and so forth--are lit up in celebration. Groups of friends find places underneath to eat, drink sake, and sing into the wee hours.

This early-blossoming tree is framed by the "Big Gate" and Nanzen-ji Temple in Kyoto.

A recent instance brought home to me just how important these trees are in Japan. As I have written before, we are living over our heads in Tokyo, and we know it. But I managed to impress some neighbors--unintentionally, upon my word--when in all the sakura discussion I happened to mention that we have a cherry tree in our yard back home in New Jersey. They seemed amazed beyond comprehension. I suspect some of them have only been able to reconcile this information by telling themselves I must be mistaken, that it must be some other type of tree. A person may own a Maserati, but a cherry tree?. . .Get real!

Vehicle of the Week: Scooter for a Rainy Day

2007-04-07T06:58:00.000-07:00

I saw this in Kyoto on a rainy day--the kind of day that made this bike's owner happy for the custom coverage over his head. Wish I could have gotten closer for a shot from a different angle. But from my vantage point, it looked definitely cool, as well as practical. And note the dual rear wheels for stability. Definitely good enough to make Vehicle of the Week!

Sign of the Week: Cow Tipping

2007-04-07T06:40:00.000-07:00

It's supposed to be nothing more than a hoax. It has even been de-bunked by the Mythbusters. But I can assure you it is not. In fact, I have been Cow Tipping here in Yoyogi on multiple occasions--and I have no regrets. Knowing there might be some skeptics among you, I offer this week's Sign of the Week as evidence.

Cruising Down the Hozu (on a Monday Afternoon)

2007-04-06T16:01:00.000-07:00

On a recent trip to Kyoto, Cindy, C. J., my parents (visiting from the U. S.) and I had the chance to get out of the city and take a boat ride down the Hozu River.

We started out from Sagano station on the quaintly-named "Romantic Train," which follows the course of the river east through a beautifully forested canyon to the town of Kameoka. On board, everyone was excited and happy, taking pictures and enjoying the view. The only people who take this train are sight-seers; there's a faster line to Kameoka if you just need to get there. But the Romantic Train winds along with the river, crossing it now and then, and sliding through tunnels in the riverside cliffs. This picture was taken from the train. The boat is just like the one we would soon be taking back through the canyon.

From the train station in Kameoka, we took a bus to the boat landing. We spent some time in a waiting area (complete with gift shop--this is Japan) until the loudspeaker announced our party, telling us it was time to board: "Amerika-no Tomu-san" ("Mr. Tom, the American").

Here, in a plain on the other side of the mountains from Kyoto, the river flows along placidly. As we started our trip down the river, we passed through open fields first. The banks got gradually higher, and soon we were passing through bamboo woods.

We were the only Westerners in the boat, but not the only "gaijin" (foreigners). The friendly couple sitting behind us were from Taiwan, in the company of a Japanese friend. The rest were Japanese. A very nice fellow sitting in front of C. J. had his family along. He turned out to be a Yale-educated physician. He and the Taiwanese couple took pains to help interpret for us when the boat's crew had something to tell the group.

The boat was crewed by three men, who rotated positions a few times during the two-hour tour. One was at the tiller in the stern, one rowed the boat's single oar, and one served as poleman. It was interesting to see how the poleman operated. He would stand at the very tip of the bow, plant his bamboo pole ahead of the boat on a river bottom. Then, as the boat reached the spot, he would push off downstream. To take full advantage of the leverage the pole provided, he would run five or six steps down the sloping bow, pushing the the boat forward with his feet.

As we entered the canyon, we had a chance to see the Romantic Train chugging along, bringing more boaters up to Kameoke

The canyon had plenty of waterfowl. Getting a picture of the ducks and cormorants from a moving platform was beyond my photographic capabilities, but I was able to capture this Great Blue Heron, which obligingly and characteristically stood still for me

As the canyon narrowed the river, it grew a bit wilder. While we saw nothing more than class II rapids, it made for a fun ride. And the role of poleman turned from propelling the craft to fending off rocks.

As the sides of the canyon grew higher, the forest changed to Sugi. This beautiful tree has been know to the West as "Japanese Cedar," but it is not a cedar. The more accurate "Japanese Cypress" is now being used more widely. Sugi is a type of cypress, but differs greatly from the cypress we're familiar with in the States.

As we wound our way, we would sometimes find ourselves in the shadows. It was cool, quiet, and beautiful!

Eventually, the canyon opened up again. The sugi gave way to hardwoods. We saw some early cherry blossoms here and there.

The river grew broader than ever, and calm. The crew began to work hard to keep us moving along. I was beginning to worry for them--they had to be exhausted--when a canopy-covered, motor-powered boat came alongside of us. It was a floating food stand! They tied up to our boat, and we bought refreshments. Their boat's engine moved us along quickly, so our crew got a breather. This seemed like a real win-win to me--we got food, they got rest, and the vendors made some money. I had some "taco" (octopus) grilled right there on the boat. In this picture, the cook has my order in his hand. Cindy had rice balls on a stick. C. J. had a Mitsuya Cider.

It wasn't long after that we came into Arashiyama, our destination. Lots of families were out boating here, as in this picture.

What a great time this was. If you're ever to Kyoto, I recommend it. Sometimes doing the touristy thing turns out just right!

The Latest in Parking

2007-03-20T07:21:00.000-07:00

Last week Cindy and I caught a ride to Roppongi Hills with some friends in their minivan. This gave us a chance to see how the parking system operates there.

When you arrive at the parking facility, which is underneath the mall and tower, you are directed into a small, garage-like room. There are two metal belts built into the floor sideways across the room. With the help of an attendant, you park so the front wheels rest on one belt, and the rear wheels on the other. You get out of the car, and lock it up.

You pass into an adjoining room. You can watch the room with your car through a large window. The attendant comes into the other room with you and punches a few buttons on a machine. The side wall of the garage starts to rise, and you realize the whole wall is an overhead door, with another room behind it. Once the door is up, the belts in the floor start up, and your car is carried sideways into the adjacent room. The wall door descends again, and you car disappears.

Your vehicle is now in the clutches of a robotically-controlled containment system. But they are kind, efficient clutches. The computer assigns your car an empty cube--just big enough to fit it--and a series of mechanical belts, tracks, and lifts carries it to its proper place on the rack.

The machine spits out a magnetic card, which the attend hands to you. When you return later to retrieve you car, you simply insert the card and the amount you owe for the parking. The machine directs you to the garage in which your car will appear. A couple of minutes later, the wall opens up, and your car slides back into view.

This kind of parking system is very expensive to set up, as you would expect. But it has a number of advantages. For customers, it's a time-saver. There is no need to search for a parking space. It's also safer; nobody can break into your car, and there is no risk of door dings or fender-benders. Furthermore, you can't forget where you parked.

For the system operator, there are real benefits as well. The parking cubes only have to be big enough to hold the vehicle--there's no need to allow room for doors to open, or to allow for headroom. And no space is wasted in access aisles and ramps. You can fit twice as many vehicles into this type of parking garage. Additionally, you can run it with a smaller staff--no need for valet drivers, tollbooth workers, or security people. It's a real win-win, in my view.

Sign of the week: Watch your butt!

2007-03-17T23:32:00.000-07:00

A lot of people smoke here in Tokyo. And even more spend a significant portion of their lives waiting for the light to change so they can cross the street. So, this sign is a polite reminder to smokers to avoid holding their lit cigarettes too close to children's heads (a convenient height at which to dangle one's smoke, apparently). I never even thought about the possibility of this kind of accident before, but in the crowds here, I guess it's a real danger.

Some of the signs around here strike me because they seem funny to me; this one seems genuinely smart.

Edifice of the Week: Gonpachi (Nichi Azabu)

2007-03-10T06:14:00.000-08:00

Most Thursdays Cindy and I have lunch at Gonpachi in Nichi (West) Azabu. It's about halfway between work and home, so it makes a convenient meeting spot. But even if it wasn't convenient, we'd probably figure out a way to get here. It's our favorite Japanese restaurant. Gonpachi is part of a small chain--I think they have four other locations in Tokyo--but this is the only one we've been to.

I have heard conflicting stories about the original building that was on this site. One is that it was formerly a castle, another that it was a treasure house. Maybe it was both. It is probably most famous in recent years as the site of a 2002 lunch featuring President Bush and Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi.

You have to duck (actually, C. J. and I do--Cindy doesn't) to get inside Gonpachi. Once you enter, you are met by a hostess, who calls out a greeting, which is echoed by a welcoming shout from all the staff.

There are two main floors, but the bottom one is divided into two levels. On the lowest is an open kitchen, with a large grill, that sends a mouth-watering aroma (and smoke) into the air. Surrounding the kitchen on three sides is a bar where you can sit, and tables on the floor beyond that.

Some of the tables on the bottom floor have a latticework of bamboo overhead. The upper part of the first floor is a row of booths along the eastern wall, elevated a few feet above the lower part.

The upper floor is open in the middle, and consists of rows of booths or rooms along each wall. The booths are like those on the first floor; the rooms are fancier. While still partly open to the balcony-like hall on one side, they are more private, and are treated like separate chambers. You have to remove your shoes and don slippers to eat in one of them.

Beautiful wood is everywhere inside. The tables on the first floor, and the extensive bar, are solid. The booths feature heavy benches. Any seat in the house allows a view of the enormous beams across the ceiling. And above the upper booths are screens of bamboo.

The verdict from our family--C. J. included--is that the food here is delicious. It's very Japanese--yakitori (skeweres of charcoal-grilled chicken) is the specialty, but they make great tempura as well. You can get a really good lunch special, featuring a little bit of everything,
for 2,000 yen (under $20). But this post is really about the building--we'll talk about food another time.

Vehicle of the Week: Lamborghini Murcielago LP640

2007-03-10T05:45:00.000-08:00

I came across this little gem while walking home from work the other week. The 2006 update of a model introduced in 2001, it features a 6.5 liter V12 engine that produces 640 hp. I really like the looks and specs of this model, but I don't have a spare $275,000 to buy one. I'd choose a white one, like this, but they also come in red and black at the Lamborghini dealer down the street. Have I mentioned I feel slightly out of place in this neighborhood?

Down it goes...

2007-03-09T18:12:00.000-08:00

At work (conference room) watching the sun set over the mountains.

Up it goes...

2007-03-09T16:10:00.000-08:00

I pass a certain construction site in Azabu Juban on my way to work. I'm not a builder, so I don't really know, but it seems to me that the work has gone unusually quickly. Maybe this is partly because the site is so tiny, footprint-wise. Anyway, I took a picture just before the building wrap went up (December 19th) and another one just after they took it down (March 3). So, that makes less than two and a half months from "hole in the ground" to "windows installed." I could only fit the bottom of the structure in the picture--there are three more stories atop these.

A Day in Odaiba

2007-03-03T22:14:00.000-08:00

In 1853, the last Shogun of the Tokugawa era was distressed by the arrival of the "Black Ships," a group of American ships under Commodore Matthew Perry. To protect Tokyo from this fleet, he had a series of forts built on reclaimed land out in the bay. These cannon batteries ("daiba") made little difference in the long run, because Perry simply landed a little way down the coast at Yokohama, and the days of Japan's isolation were soon ended.

Over the years, the island forts were neglegted and deteriorated. One was made into a park in the 1920s, but it wasn't until the success of Expo '85 World's Fair in Tsukuba that things began to change in a big way.

Tsukuba, about 40 miles from Tokyo, was built specifically to host the Expo. The plan was that after the fair closed, it would be turned into a new city dedicated to science. This plan actually worked, and the late 80s saw Tsukuba thrive.

Those were flush years in Japan, and the government began to look around for opportunities repeat the success of the Tsukuba experiment. They decided to build another planned city, and decided on Odaiba as the location. According to Wikipedia, it would have self-sufficient population of 100,000 and would focus on the world of the future.

Unfortunately, before the city was completed, the economic "bubble" burst. Amazing buildings with striking features soon stood empty, next to vacant lots and construction projects halted in process. The future looked bleak. But re-zoning in the latter part of the 90s brought businesses in, and with them came renewed economic activity. Today, while Odiaba is noticeably less crowded than most parts of Tokyo I've been to, there are some interesting attractions. So Cindy and I took a Saturday to have a look.

To get to Odaiba, you have to cross the water. You can walk, drive, or take the bus across Rainbow Bridge. You can also take the Yurikamome line, a sort of elevated tram-train, which also uses the bridge. There are also a couple of ferries, and the Rinkai subway line (which would have to be the most boring way to get there). We bought day pass tickets that gave us unlimited use the ferries or the train. Since it was a beautiful, sunny day, we decided to cross on the ferry. Here is the view from the boat, looking back toward Tokyo.

After crossing the bay, we entered a large canal, and made our way into the heart of Odaiba. Other boats passed by. We went under low bridges. We saw some of the high-tech buildings and attractions of the city, some of them still (or once again) under construction. The needle-looking thing is the support for a footbridge; the ferris wheel is the second-largest in the world (behind the Eye of London).

My favorite buiding was the place our ferry docked: "Tokyo Big Sight." It's a convention center; it reminds me of something out of Star Wars.

Tokyo is really hoping for the chance to host the 2016 Olympics; however, it's not close to being a front-runner (since the Beijing games in 2008 give Asia recent representation) hosting. But optimism runs high here, because if the games did come, Odaiba would play a strong role. This banner at Big Sight boldy predicts the XXXI Olympics will be here.

Big Sight also contains restaurants; we ate lunch at a cafeteria (we had A Especially Nice Taste).

After we ate, we walked over to the station to pick up the Yurikamome line. The train isn't really a train. There are no tracks, and the cars run on rubber wheels on an elevated concrete path with side barriers. The line runs through Odaiba, and you can use it to get from place to place.

We stopped at Toyota MegaWeb, next to Venus Fort shopping mall. MegaWeb is like nothing we'd seen before. It's a big, multi-story complex that combines self-serve showroom (you can explore all the new model Toyotas and Lexuses with no salespeople "helping"), concept cars, car museum, and even an experimental track with cars (tiny Toyota E-Coms) that drive themselves, using sensors build into the road. We took a "drive"--twice around the track with the car operating itself.

Also right next to the Toyota place is the ferris wheel. Unfortunately, it was closed due to high winds. We took the Yurikamome line home, crossing rainbow bridge. We'll be back another day for more.

Sign of the Week: Be a Fireman! Impress Girls!

2007-03-03T21:52:00.000-08:00

This seems to be a recruitment effort for the local fire department, or maybe for careers in firefighting. My Japanese is so limited that I can't read this sign, but I think the picture tells the story. I don't know which I like more--the impassive, stern demeanor of the dashing (check out the eyelashes) hero fireman, or the heart-shaped eyes on the impressed beauty in the background (is she swooning?).

P.S. If any of you single guys are heading for the phone, the country code for Japan is +81

Vehicle of the Week: Toyota PM

2007-03-02T18:31:00.000-08:00

This week's winner is a concept car by Toyota: the PM (I think it stands for "Personal Mobility"). Cindy and I found this while on a trip to Odaiba, at the Toyota City Showcase.

The Toyota website has this to say about the PM:

"The PM is a personal mobility vehicle that 'fits like a glove' to create a feeling of unity between the driver and the vehicle. Cutting-edge vehicle-to-vehicle communications technologies are employed under the concept of "meeting, linking and hanging out together".

I'm sorry I can't provide a better look at the interior, but we were not aloud in the vehicle.

The wheel concept is very different--as you can see, there are no axles.

You have to wonder how practical it would be to own one of these. Still, you have to admit, it looks very cool. And the Toyota emblem on front, it seems somehow legitimate. Who knows? Maybe someday...

Edifice of the Week: The Tokyo Club

2007-02-19T03:14:00.000-08:00

The original Tokyo Club was begun in the 1880s by Emperor Meiji, after one of his aides overheard a visiting British dignitary complain about the lack of a "proper club" in the city. It was destroyed during the war, but its most recent reincarnation is magnificent. But it comes in a plain wrapper. The Tokyo Club is a nondescript cube. It offers no hint of its purpose, nor of the wonders awaiting the few who ever see the inside.

It's easy to overlook the Tokyo Club on a street like this one. The other buildings in this exclusive neighborhood compete with eachother for attention with dramatic architecture. The Swedish embassy next door (below) is a good example.

The club doesn't advertise itself. An understated sign above the entry--not really visible from the sidewalk (unless you have a zoom lens)--tells you this cube is the Tokyo Club. A small "TC" logo next to the door is the only other clue. On either side, trees and shrubs provide a privacy fence.

The only reason I know anything about this place is that I was recently invited to lunch there by a business contact who is a member. I have no pictures of the interior (that's not allowed), but it deserves description.

Upon entering, you must register. A member may bring guests, but no guest may visit more than twice a month. All briefcases, etc. must be checked. The club is amazingly conservative. The strict suit-and-tie dress code is just the beginning. Passing the reception area, you see the club rules displayed on the wall: no discussions of politics or religion, no for-profit business dealings. Women may not join. They may visit the club (this concession is only two years old) but must be in the company of a member, and only in the evenings.

The south end of the first floor features a large library. You begin to see that clean lines, rectangles, muted colors are part of the scheme. The north end has a large room with tables, a big fireplace, and a bar running the entire length of its south wall. No view from this room to the outside.

Climbing the slate stairs to the second floor, you notice the white glass you saw from the outside is fairly transparent from the inside. Sunlight pours in. At the top of the stairs is a large room with tables and chairs and a small bar. The long north wall of this room is entirely transparent. It is kept from outside eyes by its elevation and a barrier of trees. Outside, before the trees, at the same level as the floor, is a rectangular reflecting pool. With glass wall is almost invisible, making the surface of the water seem like an extension of the floor of the room in which you stand. It's an amazing architectural effect. It looks as though you could walk out onto the water.

You can sit here and talk, as we did, waiting for lunch, feeling like you're outside. Lunch is served in the large central room of the second floor. At a word from the maitre d', we entered and were shown to a table. The finest of everything. The delicious, world-class lunch (I had the chicken & leek soup, duck with pears, and sorbet) costs less than $10 American. This is a club dining room, and it's not out to make a profit.

After a long, leisurely lunch getting to know each other, my host took me to explore the rest of the club. On the south side of the third floor are two rooms for playing "go," which seems to be a sort of Japanese chess. One room has several tables; the second only two. The latter room is more finely finished. It is reserved for players who have achieved a certain status, sort of black-belt go players.

Beyond these rooms is one with two rich-leather, reclining massage chairs, the most impressive I've seen. They have sleeves to put your arms in. Along the east wall is a set of roomy cubicles. Each has an enormous leather recliner, a flat-screen TV, and a set of headphones. If you want, you can just sit and watch TV--any channel you want.

In the northeast corner is a simulated golf driving range. No doubt you've seen these before--you hit a real ball into a tarp that has an image of a distant flag projected on it. The computer then calculates your trajectory, and tells you how far you hit, etc. Those are fun, but this one is amazing. In the first place, the definition of the projection is top-notch. It really makes it feel like you're lining up a tee shot outside (and the experience was better than usual for me, because I was able to choose from an array of the finest drivers in the world--nothing that's ever seen the inside of my bag).

I took a swing. Once I hit the ball, analytical graphics popped up on the screen in front of me. At the bottom, a window showed a side view of the hypothetical flight of my ball. An arc traced the flight; I watched it fly, drop, bounce, and roll. Just for fun, the flights of the last few hitters were displayed there as well, so I could compare my drive. In the upper right a window showed the same thing, but from an overhead perspective. Counters displayed how far the ball flew through the air, how long it rolled, and how far in total the drive went. I didn't like what I saw after my first hit, so I tried another. And another. Finally, on my fourth swing, I hit one just right. Hypothetically, it went 230 yards, right down the middle--not all that far, but I don't hit very long. It was good enough to be the longest drive on the display, so I left it at that.

The north side of the third floor is open, to provide overhead room for the reflecting pool room I described above. But there is one place, at the north end of the west hall, that protrudes out into this open space. Through some trick of perception, it looks as though the hall disappears into thin air at the end. You walk out onto the protrusion, a balcony of sorts, and it feels as though you're standing in the air. The floor of the balcony is the same color and texture as the floor of the room beneath, so it seems to disappear. The safety wall around the balcony is made of glass. All in all, I'm not quite sure how the illusion works, but I can promise you it is very effective. My knees almost buckled.

The fourth floor is given over to an enormous billiard room. It needs to be big because the billiard tables are the largest I've ever seen. Easily twelve feet long. There was a tournament going on, so we didn't stay. A handful of serious-looking men were watching the match from elevated chairs along one wall.

As if this club needed anything more to make it staid and reserved, membership is limited to 500 people. As a result, my host told me, hardly anyone is ever there! We saw about twenty people at lunch, but besides that, we only saw one other member, and the handful at billiards.

If you are recommended for membership by the membership committee, you can wait your turn to have your application voted on by the members. You will be waiting for someone to die, or be blackballed (they still do that here) or leave Japan for good. About half of the members belong to parliament. The Emperor is a member. Ambassadors from other countries are members.

The by-laws specify that a certain percentage of the membership be foreigners. That is how my acquaintance got in, over twenty years ago. Now, he is on the membership committee. He tells me that it is not uncommon for applicants to take ten to twenty years to be admitted. After we left, I looked back at this plain, white cube and thought about David Niven's club in "Around the World in 80 Days."

I thanked my host, and told him I would brag to my colleagues about having been in the exclusive Tokyo Club. He gave me a half-smile, and told me that aside from the members, those they occasionally bring, and a handful of applicants, and the staff, nobody knows the place exists.

I thought maybe my host had been a little overly dramatic. But when I came back another day to take pictures of the club's exterior, I found this neighborhood map (below) posted on a large sign just down the street. I noticed that all the buildings were well-labeled, except for one...say, what is that little cube-shaped building in the middle of the map?

Vehicle of the Week: Faux Volks

2007-02-13T21:52:00.000-08:00

This week's honoree is a customized keicar, built to resemble an old-style Volkswagen bus. It seems to be a modified Daihatsu Hijet microvan. The "Tournage" logo on the front of the van lends it some French flair. So, what we have here, in essence, is a Japanese microvan trying to look German while saying it's French. But for cuteness, if nothing else, it deserves its moment in the spotlight.

Edifice of the Week: Tokyo Tower

2007-02-11T05:18:00.000-08:00

Since we first began this blog, I have been looking forward for the chance to include the Tokyo Tower as "Edifice of the Week." This Japanese homage to the Eiffel Tower is just a few meters taller (333 meters vs. 320) but much lighter, since it was built in 1958, when when better steel technology was available. Its orange and white paint job is a nod to air safety regulations. Since completion of construction, Tokyo Tower has been the world's tallest self-supporting steel tower. Twenty-three broadcasting signals, including TV and radio, emanate from the upper part of the tower. The tower is only a couple of miles from our place--I took this shot from our apartment building.

Under the tower at the base is a four-story building called "Foot-town" (I guess because it's at the foot of the structure, and English names sound cool). Foot-town has lots of fun activities--a big aquarium (supposedly Japan's finest), a wax museum, a trick art gallery, a hologram display, a government information display center (here's where it starts to fall apart in the excitement department), and the "Exhibition Room for Statistical Information" (according to the brochure, "History of statistics and other data are presented...)" It sounds fun to me, but I'd take the little ones to the aquarium. Oh, and this is Tokyo, so of course Foot-town includes a shopping gallery and restaurants.

150 meters up the tower is the main observation deck, and 100 meters further up is a smaller, special (costs extra) observation deck. The main deck has two levels, and is fairly large. The center is taken up with souvenir shops and a restaurant, but around the sides, there is room to look out through the tall glass panels. Signs above the windows indicate the direction of famous sights, and for a little coin you can rent time on large spotting binoculars mounted on the floor. On the bottom floor of the deck are reinforced glass panel on which you can stand, creating the illusion of hovering high up above it all. This was not an easy picture for me to take--heights scare me.

On a recent trip to the tower Cindy and I arrived at the main deck via (very crowded) elevator. But the young, hardy souls in our group (C. J. and family friend Jorge Rodriguez) decided to climb the stairs instead. As exhausted climbers reach the deck, they are given a special ticket to honor their acheivement.

Views from Tokyo Tower are as interesting as views of it. We arrived on a hazy day, so it was not possible to see too far into the distance, but we did get a fair look at the closer parts of the city. With the aid of the telephoto lens (and tripod) we were able to capture some things up close (the goalie stopped this shot).

This is a look southwestward, toward home.

The haze was a challenge, but we were able to spot a number of former "Edifices of the Week" (see previous posts). This southwesterly view shows the LDS Temple. The tan building in the foreground, adjoining Arisugawa Park, is the hospital where Japan's crown prince was born last year. The town of Hiroo is in the background.

Dimly seen through the smog, well off to the West in Shinjuku, is DoCoMo Tower.

Near at hand--only a couple of miles away--on the west side is Roppongi Hills' Mori Tower.

Near at hand looking to the southwest is Azabu Tower. with the local shrine at its foot, and Azabu-Juban in the foreground.

As shadows began to lengthen, the electric billboards of Tokyo shone through the dusk. Cindy and I headed home, but C. J. and Jorge stayed to explore the upper observation deck and take more pictures:

Lit up as evening falls, the tower from the roof of Foot-town presents an orange maze of steel.

Here is Jorge in a nice evening shot of the tower taken by C. J. The tower is open until ten at night, to allow a view of the lights of the city. We'll be back some evening when the air is a little clearer to experience that.

Sign of the Week: Happy Manner

2007-02-02T22:12:00.000-08:00

This week's sign features Clifford the Big Red Dog and friends urging us to help keep the subways clean. My Japanese is not all that good yet, but it seems to say "Everybody feeling good, other people feeling good." I think Clifford is thinking something about garbage and encouraging us to do better--not to leave even one piece of litter. Any help in the translation would be appreciated. But anyway, I think it's a great sign, and who can argue with having a "Happy Manner"?

Vehicle of the Week: Subaru R2

2007-02-02T22:08:00.000-08:00

For this week's nominee, we visit to the domain of the "keicar" ("small car"), the group of cars so tiny we will probably never see them on the U. S. market. The Subaru R2 is a great example of this class. The R2 made its debut here in Japan in 2004. It replaced Subaru's "Pleo" line, another, much more boxy keicar. According to Wikipedia, the R2's more streamlined body is the influence of Andreas Zapatinas, a Subaru designer who formerly worked for Alfa Romeo.

Keicars are easy to spot, not only for their small size, but because they get special yellow license plates. They are even smaller than the compact Ractis and Cube featured in earlier posts. There is a reason they are so small.

This class of vehicle was introduced to help build the auto industry in reconstruction-era Japan, a time when most people could not afford larger cars. Now, in a much more prosperous time, it is maintained for other reasons. Vehicles meeting official class guidelines are eligible for special tax and insurance discounts. Furthermore, they are exempt from an interesting requirement that applies to all larger cars: in order to register anything bigger than a keicar, you need certified proof that you either own or have contracted for a parking space.

The size requirements for the keicar class (which by the way includes minivan and SUV entries) brings home just how small they are:

length: under 11 feet 1 inch
width: under 4 feet 10 inches
height: under 6 feet 7 inches
engine size: under 660 ccs
engine power: under 64 hp

Would your vehicle qualify?

Saturday in the Park

2007-01-28T04:51:00.000-08:00

Last Saturday was beautiful here in Tokyo, so Cindy and I decided to visit Yoyogi Park. It is located on the southern end of the large plot of land that surrounds the Meiji-Jingu shrine (see last week's "Edifice of the Week"), west of the shops at Harajuku, and north of Shibuya's hustle and bustle (see previous post "Meet Me at Hachiko"). We had heard about this park, but had not yet been.

We arrived via Harajuku station, right near the park's entrance. The "cos-play" folk were out. A "cos-player" is someone whose hobby is dressing up as one of the characters from one of the (many) cartoon ("anime") or video games so popular here. The costumes can be quite elaborate. I hear that sometimes a set of cos-players from a given show will get together to do re-enactments of favorite scenes, but the ones we met Saturday seemed content just to be seen together, and to have their pictures taken.

As it turned out, the cos-players were a perfect introduction to our afternoon. A sense of whimsical fun prevailed throughout the park. Jugglers, dancers, and musicians practiced their skills, and it seemed they enjoyed being watched and listened to--and posing for the camera.

Pets were out in force. One fellow had brought a pack of long-haired dachsunds wearing sunglasses. A fashionable young man had his white rabbit on a leash. My favorite was a black Boston Terrier that came with a young family. Racing around in the sunshine, he was having the time of its life.

The Boston Terrier's people were not the only young family at the park. Many couples with small children dotted the open spaces--flying kites (or trying to--there wasn't much wind), playing ball, and just being together.

Not all the couples there had children with them (Cindy and I fell into that category). They seemed content to sit and talk, enjoying the weather and watching all the goings on. Some folks were there by themselves, exercising, reading, or just soaking in the sun.

One group of young adults was having some sort of get-together. They had a number of ad-hoc activity centers set up at different parts of one of the fields, and participants were moving from one to another. The staff at the station below were dressed in homemade costumes, and had participants join in a dance and song. I have no idea who there were or what they were doing, but like everyone else there, they seemed to be enjoying themselves.

When we finally drifted out of the park, heading for our favorite sushi-go-round restaurant in Harajuku, we passed some "J-Pop" hopefuls performing on the sidewalk. In addition to having a cool American name, they were pretty good, and I wish them the best. Maybe this picture will be worth something someday!

Sign of the Week: STB 139

2007-01-26T06:19:00.001-08:00

This week's entry is the sign at the entrance of STB 139, a posh night spot in Roppongi. I chose it not only for its interesting description, but also for its nifty projection format.

Passersby in the daytime might wonder what "STB" stands for in the restaurant's name. But at night, this sign tells us it's an acronym for "Soundful, Tasteful, herBful. Of course, the only one of these that is a actual word in English is used here out of context--they don't want to say it's a tasteful restaurant, but that its food is tasty.

You may feel it is a stretch to make the "B" stand for "Herbful." Maybe, you imagine, they could have come up with a better word--perhaps even one that starts with "B." But if you visit Tokyo, you will find the word "herb" (and variations of it, however novel) is used quite a bit in the names and descriptions of trendy restaurants. It is a very chic word here, and I'm sure they wanted to use it. So, since neither the "S" nor the "T" occur anywhere in herb (or herbful) they had to go with the "B."

Vehicle of the Week: Rolls Royce Silver Cloud

2007-01-26T06:10:00.000-08:00

For this feature, I usually select vehicles unique to Tokyo, or at least Japan, if I can. But look what I found parked just down the block the other night.

This is a Rolls Royce Silver Cloud III. The first Silver Cloud came to market in, I think, the late 50s or early 60s. The III version, with the four headlamps, didn't come along until the late 60s. Like all versions of the Silver Cloud, only a couple of thousand IIIs were ever built, so I was happy to get a chance to admire it and take a picture.

Edifice of the Week: Meiji-jingu Shrine

2007-01-24T04:17:00.000-08:00

For this week's featured building, we visit a Shinto shrine built to house the spirits of Emperor Meiji and his consort, Empress Shoken. In an earlier post, we explored the wooded park that contains the shrine (see "An Oasis of Nature").

Emperor Meiji helped bring Japan into the modern world. When power transferred from the shogunate to him in the 1800s, Japan was isolated and behind technologically. When he died in 1912, the nation had become an important international power. The shrine was completed in 1920. Destroyed in World War II, it was rebuilt soon afterward.

The tori (gate) that marks the symbolic entrance to the shrine is enormous. The people in the picture provide a good reference. Weathered wooden columns support the crosspieces. Passing underneath, it is hard not to feel a sense of awe.

Approaching the shrine compound, you find a covered fountain. This you use to ritually purify yourself before entering. On a wooden grate above the water are ladles. You dip one into the water, and use the contents to rinse your hands. Then another cupful to rinse your mouth. Now you're ready to enter.

I passed through another gateway, through a wooden screen. Next came the wall surrounding the shrine courtyard. I passed through a massive doorway on the east side of the enclosure. You don't have to do this; there is a wide open passageway to allow crowds through, but I wanted to see the door up close.

The large passageway I mentioned runs underneath rooftop supported by an elaborately decorated framework. These are made of wood. No nails are used; the structure is held up by the interlocking beams. The southern entrance (below) has an identical arrangement.

Once within the compound, visitors head across the courtyard to the main shrine building, and ascend the steps.

The stairs lead to covered place that looks into (but does not access) the courtyard within the main shrine. Here, worshippers line up to take a turn praying and giving an offering. One by one, they stand before an offering box, toss in a coin, and say a prayer (in silence). They conclude by clapping their hands once, and then make way for the next person.

The offering boxes are interesting. Wooden bars run across the top, forming a grate. Coins tossed on them may bounce, but eventually slide between, down into the box.

When I visited, I heard a loud drumming coming from the place of worship long before I approached it. I got to witness a repeat performance on it from close at hand. As you can imagine, the this drum can generate quite a bit of sound.

To one side of the courtyard, there is a large prayer rack. You can purchase a wooden tablet, write your prayer on it, and they will hang it on the rack for you. The rack is open to the breeze, so it can blow through the prayers. You can find prayers written in many languages here.

As I left the shrine, I met an older couple who had just arrived, and were finishing their washing. I turned to watch them enter the shrine together. I thought about my wife and me attending our own temple together. There is something compelling about the act of worship; I felt a kinship with other couple that ran across boundaries of faith and culture.

Sign of the Week: Flat White Coffee

2007-01-19T06:32:00.000-08:00

Some Tokyo signs that feature English are noteworthy for their seeming random selection of words. Others stand out as inadvertently humorous, thanks to a tortured translation. But some are real puzzles. They seem as though someone put a lot of thought into them, but they don't make logical sense--at least not to me.

Now, none of us are coffee drinkers, so maybe it's not fair for me to feature this advertisement as Sign of the Week. But from what I understand, java afficionados in search of the perfect cup are looking for neither whiteness nor flatness. So for me, this ad fits perfectly into the category of enigmatic signs I encounter in Tokyo--on a regular basis.

Tremor in the Wee Hours

2007-01-15T21:25:00.000-08:00

There is no picture to go with this story, but I wanted to share an unusual experience we had overnight.

We had felt a few very minor tremors in the weeks we've been here, but they were almost unnoticable. Just after three this morning, however, we were all wakened by the apartment shaking quite noticeably. An earthquake measuring 5.7 on the Richter scale (3 on the Japanese 7-point scale) was the culprit.

The epicenter was off to the southwest, so we didn't get the full brunt of the shaking. Nothing was broken in our home. But we don't feel cheated; as far as I'm concerned, I hope this eerie event turns out to be the most serious earthquake we ever experience.

Vehicle of the Week: food delivery bicycle

2007-01-12T17:03:00.000-08:00

Tokyo is a place of restaurants. From the high-cost place to the lowly noodle shop, eateries are part of everyday life. But not everyone eats out; many prefer delivery. The convenient choice, home delivery offers good food in the comfort of home, with no preparation time (or skill) needed. Of course, key to high-quality restaurant food at home is the ability to get it there intact and in a hurry. This is where the delivery bicycle comes into play.

Bikes are the obvious choice for fast delivery in our neighborhood. They can avoid traffic jams, take shortcuts down tiny alleys and streets, and are the ultimate in economic efficiency. And wherever you live in Tokyo, you're never more that a quick bike trip from a number of restaurants. Perhaps the only drawback is this: how does the deliveryman carry the food as he weaves his way through traffic?

This style of delivery bike is the answer. A spacious container tray hangs suspended from a spring attachment mounted behind the rider. It can carry a surprising amount of victuals, bundled up to keep them warm. In the picture, the tray seems to be riding too high to hold much, but as items are loaded, it hangs lower and lower. As the bike swerves on its way, the tray stays level, keeping the bowls of curry or soup upright. Hats off to whoever came up with this clever device.

Edifice of the Week: Roppongi Hills Mori Tower

2007-01-10T04:28:00.000-08:00

This week's focus is the sleek Roppongi Hills Mori Tower. Completed in 2003, this high-rise is 781 feet tall and has 54 floors. Most of the building is office space, but the top floors feature an art museum, observatory, private club, and academy.

Mori Tower is the centerpiece of the Roppongi Hills complex. Its lower six floors are part of an upscale shopping mall, which continues down the eastern hillside at the tower's foot. All told, the center features 230 retail stores, a Grand Hyatt hotel, a large cineplex, an outdoor performance arena, and broadcasting centers for two TV stations. The interior of the mall is spacious, with waterfalls and other interesting design features.

The grounds surrounding the mall also have lots of fountains, and some interesting sculptures. The spider statue is a favorite meeting spot.

The grounds were all decorated for the Christmas/New Year season, with beautiful lights at night. In this picture, you can see the Tokyo Tower in the background (a future Edifice of the Week candidate).

Onward, Skylarks!

2007-01-06T06:43:00.000-08:00

We are keeping up with the football fever in Philly via the internet (watch, this will be the year!) but we had some of our own here on Thursday. The occasion was the 23rd annual Rice Bowl, which determines the championship of the Japan American Football Association.

The JAFA began in 1934 with three collegiate teams. In post WWII years, the league grew as the popularity of American football spread. While it is still a very minor sport in Japan, I was surprised to learn how many teams are competing.

The JAFA has three divisions: High School (106 teams); Collegiate (220 teams); and Corporate (68 teams). The collegiate champion is determined in mid-December at the Koshien Bowl. In the most recent contest, Hosei U. beat Kwansei Gakuin U. 45-43. In the same time-frame, the corporate champion emerges from the Japan X Bowl, in which the Onward Skylarks recently defeated the Kajima Deers 24-21.

This set the stage for the Rice Bowl matchup of collegiate vs. corporate champions: the Hosei U. Tomahawks vs. the Onward Skylarks. It was fun to watch (TV) even though either team would have been absolutely destroyed by, say, the Rowan U. Profs. The game was in doubt until the very end, with the Skylarks coming from behind in the 4th quarter to win, 30-29. The difference--in fact, the only variation in quarter-by-quarter scoring--was a missed extra point after the Tomahawk's final touchdown.

I wondered about the Skylarks' odd name until I found that Onward is in this case not an exhortation, but the name of the corporate sponsor (high-fashion clothing). Here is a list of the top-echelon corporate teams:

East Division
Onward Skylarks
Kajima Deers
IBM BigBlue
Penta-Ocean Construction Pirates
Gakusei Engokai Rocbull
All-Mitsubishi Lions

Central Division
Obic Seagulls
Asahi Beer Silver Stars
Fujitsu Frontiers
Nissan Skyliners
Tokyo Gas Creators (no kidding!)
Renesas Hurricanes

West Division
Matsushita Electric Works Impulse
Asahi Soft Drinks Challengers
Naigai Engineering Marvies
As One Black Eagles
Iwatani Sidewinders
SRC Kobe Finies

My hopes for next year's Japan X Bowl: either the Marvies vs. the Finies or the Onward Skylarks vs. the As One Black Eagles. Of course, Asahi Beer vs. Asahi Soft Drinks would be worth seeing, too.

Thanks to the Onward Skylarks' website for the pictures; you can view it at http://www.onward-skylarks.com/

A Fire in Azabu Juban

2007-01-04T22:50:00.000-08:00

The other day Cindy called up from our lobby and said there was a fire going on just down the street. I went out to look, and took these pictures from the our front landing.

Here are some shots from ground level, as firefighters were cleaning things up.

Many of the emergency personnel arrived on the scene on their official bicycles.

The fire started in a fifth floor apartment. That apartment seems to have been really gutted, but fortunately the blaze was soon contained and didn't spread much further.

The fireplugs over here are under the sidewalks, beneath access panels that are sort of like manhole covers. The fire engines have self-propelled hose carts that stow in the rear.

A Trip to Miyajima

2007-01-02T17:38:00.000-08:00

We recently returned from a three-day trip to the island of Miyajima, just off the coast of Hiroshima. What a beautiful place!

A major attraction at Miyajima is the Itsukushima shrine. It is built on stilts, and when the tide is in, appears to be floating on the water.

The first shrine on this site was built in about 600 A.D. The current layout was constructed in the 12th century. Itsukushima is most famous for its large red torii (gateway) which stands out among the waves when the tide is right.

Immediately upon arriving, we became acquainted with the deer of this island, which are quite tame, and will follow after you and try to nibble at anything that looks edible--even a shopping bag, as Cindy found out.

We stayed at Momijiso, a ryokan, or traditional Japanese inn. It takes its name from the word for maple, which makes sense because it's set in a park full of maple trees. The leaves fell last autumn, but even in winter the park has a rare beauty. And Momijiso itself is surrounded with quiet, carefully planned gardens.

The inn is run by an elderly woman who speaks very little English, but whose kindness needs no translation to be understood. I don't know her name, but think of her as obaasan (grandmother) since upon our arrival, she immediately adopted us as honorary grandchildren.

Part of obaasan's responsibilities included helping us understand what to do and not do on the premises. Staying at a ryokan is the chance to experience traditional Japanese lifestyle, and we are real novices. So she showed us how to dress properly (yakuta) how to eat, and which slippers to wear in which places.

Though this is a small island, it has two peaks over 1,500 feet high. Sherry (who is here from BYU spending the holidays with us) and I took the chance to climb the tallest, Mt. Misen (there is a cable car, but we preferred to hike). Our trail began in the maple park by our inn. It was steep and featured stretch after stretch of stone steps. When we got to the top of it, we found we still had quite a way to go to reach the peak of Mt. Misen.

We stopped to take pictures of the wild monkeys that frequent the area around the cable car lift, then pressed on to the top. The views were amazing.

Near the summit were a number of shrines. One has a flame which is said to have been burning continually since 600 A.D.

At the top was a three-level observation platform, well worn by time and weather.

On top of the mountain, we noticed snow flurries. We had been in shirt sleeves, heated by the exertions of the climb. But once we got to the peak, we got back into our jackets--it was very windy and cold.

We took an alternate way back down the mountain, one that took us lower and then higher, as we conquered the second-highest peak. This path was much steeper, and had many small shrines built into niches or under rock outcroppings.

Miyajima is also a great place to shop for touristy trinkets, so we spent time doing that. Like tourist destinations everywhere, there wierd and wacky points of interest that compete with the historically significant and beautiful sites. For example, among the shops is the Largest Rice Paddle In The World exhibit--we couldn't pass up the chance visit that (C. J. in the background provides a size reference).

I should also mention that part of the fun of our trip was getting there. We took the shinkansen (literally "new trunk line" but the English name "bullet train" is much cooler). Ours, the Nozomi train, is the fastest bullet train, topping out at over 180 mph, and averaging around 160. It's like flying on the ground; the train banks through turns like a jet. It took just four hours to travel the 426 (as the crow flies) miles from Tokyo to Hiroshima, and that's with five intervening station stops.

In contrast to the pace of the bullet train, our days on Miyajima were laid back and peaceful. On the morning we left, there was a delicate layer of snow which arrived overnight, lending additional beauty. I know there will be times in the upcoming year when I relax by mentally re-visiting the peaceful tranquility of Momijiso.

Edifice of the Week: LDS temple

2006-12-26T05:28:00.000-08:00

This week's featured building is the LDS temple here in Tokyo. Completed in 1980, it is one of only two such temples in Japan. The temple is about a ten-minute walk from our home. Next door to it is the meetinghouse where we attend regular Sunday meetings.

For those not familiar with LDS temples, these are buildings dedicated to our faith's most sacred rites, such as marriage. Closed off from the outside world, they provide a haven for learning and contemplation. I appreciate the special, calm spirit I feel there. It has been many years since Cindy and I were married (in the Washington D.C. temple) and regular temple visits have been part of our life. So it's great to have a temple so close at hand.

Like most structures here in Tokyo, where acreage is at such a premium, the temple takes advantage of vertical space. It is built on a lot just under half an acre, but has a floor area of over 50,000 square feet. Because of its location, it is not easy to get a good photo of the whole temple. From across the street, its spire overlooks the lower portion of Arusigawa Memorial Park, a beautiful spot in the middle of Minami Azabu.

In the dedicatory prayer for the temple, LDS president Spencer W. Kimball remembered its neighborhood: "O Lord, we pray Thee to bless and sanctify the grounds on which this Temple stands, and with it, the fences, the walks, paths, the trees, plants, flowers and shrubbery that grow in this area. May they blossom beautifully and be pleasant for all and a haven of peace and rest for holy meditation."

Merry Christmas!

2006-12-24T21:03:00.000-08:00

To all our friends, wherever you are: May the blessings of this season rest upon you and your homes.

Tom, Cindy, Sherry and C. J.

Sign of the Week: Police Patrol

2006-12-22T16:33:00.000-08:00

This sign is at entry to the grocery store immediately across the street from our apartment. It's comforting to know police patrol here frequently. Actually, the sign is probably unnecessary. From its location, you can usually see at least two policemen on duty.

The wording of signs like this often makes me smile. But actually, when you think about it, they do a pretty good job of communicating, for all their awkwardness. And I appreciate the effort. I mean, if I were asked to make a sign to put up at Timberline shopping center to help Japanese visitors understand policemen were on duty, I wouldn't do very well.

Edifice of the Week: "typical" apartment building

2006-12-22T16:07:00.000-08:00

This week's selection is not a famous landmark, nor does it tower over its neighborhood. It is simply a typical apartment building in Azabu-Juban. Of course, as we've reviewed in earlier posts, "typical" in this neighborhood can mean it is somehow different from the other buildings on the block.

Why did the architect choose this shape? It seems an extreme choice to me--I mean, wouldn't it generate a lot more useful floor space in this ultra-crowded city to have this building "normally" squared off at the top? Wouldn't that bring in more rent revenues, or at least be more efficient?

Maybe there's another reason, a practical engineering concern that is beyond my comprehension. I know nothing of such things. But it may be that this is simply an example of our neighborhood's aesthetic: making something different simply for variety's sake.

Vehicle of the Week: Nissan Cube

2006-12-19T00:34:00.000-08:00

Here is the popular Nissan Cube, a small MPV that has been on the market here in Japan for years (2006 was the first year for this version, however). It looks sort of like a shrunken-down Scion.

Note the offset rear window which wraps around the left rear. The back door opens to the side, an interesting feature.

Smaller cars are becoming more popular in the U. S., and I understand Nissan is mulling an entry to the American market with this car. If that happens, remember...you saw it here first!

Doggies in the 'hood

2006-12-18T18:28:00.000-08:00

As you might imagine, living in Tokyo has presented us with plenty of opportunities to experience "culture shock." On top of this, we are also dealing with a neigborhood that is much more exclusive than we're used to. When we moved to Cary, North Carolina a few years ago, I used to say that actually, we'd just moved from Sewell to Moorestown. Well, now we've moved from Sewell to Manhattan's upper east side. So we "don't belong" on more than one level.

Just how chichi is Azabu-Juban? One indicator is the high doggie factor. We're not talking about dogs, now--our neighborhood in Sewell has plenty of dogs--but doggies. Teacups and toys. Miniatures. Dogs with paws that never touch ground out of doors. Dogs coiffed and costumed.

Have you got a dog hospital in your neighborhood? You may. What about a dog cemetery and memorial park? A dog boutique? A dog salon? Dog spa? Dog aromatherapy? Dog massage? We have all of these and more within five blocks of each other.

It's fun to see the doggies--they're cute, even if the doggie culture is a little surreal to us. But we miss our Fritz, as I've mentioned before. Still, if he were here, he would probably feel as much culture shock as we do.

Proxy grandparents Christmas party

2006-12-18T05:06:00.000-08:00

The Tokyo 1st (English-speaking) LDS Ward, our church congregation, has a number of senior couples who are here as volunteer missionaries, working at the Tokyo temple. Most of them are grandparents, far away from their grandchildren during this holiday season. On the other hand, the congregation also has young families, with children whose grandparents are far away in the States.

This being the situation, some of the grandparents decided to hold special Christmas party for the children. As long-distance grandparents ourselves, Cindy and I were happy to be invited to help out. We had a sit-down breakfast for all the families, then some Christmas carols, and finally, a visit from Santa. (By the way--it's a small world sometimes--Santa was Dr. Ames, a former business school professor of mine who is now here as a consultant).

Cindy and I really enjoyed ourselves, and C. J. avoided missing his annual conversation with Santa. The adopted grandchildren seemed to have fun, too, and had fun singing with them. But we do miss little Marigold.

Meet me at Hachiko

2006-12-17T01:50:00.000-08:00

Friday night is date night, and Cindy and I met in Shibuya for some shopping. I understand weekend nights are usually pretty busy in this neighborhood, but with gift-buying season at its peak, it was particularly crowded. Pictures don't really do it justice; imagine Times Square in Manhattan, only bigger and more crowded (and more polite).

We decided to meet at the statue of Hachiko. Hachiko was a dog born in the 1920s--an Akita. The story is that he would come to meet his master at Shibuya station faithfully every evening. After a few years, the master died while away. The little dog kept coming to the station to wait for him every evening for years. He became famous as a symbol of loyalty. After the dog passed away, citizens commissioned a bronze statue to be placed at the station entrance. The statue was melted down for weapons during the austerity of WWII, but re-made in the years following. Since Hachiko is so well-known, and Shibuya station is a real labyrinth, the statue has become a favorite landmark and meeting place.

There is just one problem with a well-known meetingplace--you're not going to be the only ones using it. As the picture below shows, actually finding each other at Hachiko might not be as easy as it sounds.

But after a little searching, we linked up fine. We also met a group of youth from the Tokyo South Stake of our church. They were meeting to go carolling. C. J. was en route to join them.

We shopped for Christmas decorations at "Tokyu Hands," a large arts and crafts store, then strolled around looking at the decorations and getting to know the area a little.

In a remarkable coincidence among such throngs, we came across C. J. and some of the rest of the youth on their way to get something to eat after caroling. Cindy and I realized we had worked up quite an appetite ourselves. We wanted something we could sink our teeth into, so we tried a Kentucky Fried Chicken we came across.

The chicken was about what you'd expect from KFC, and certainly filling. One slight difference from the states was that they leave the chicken's foot on, connected to the drumstick. Cindy didn't care for this. The biscuits were interesting. They had a hole in the middle, like a doughnut. I don't know how to describe their texture well, but they were only vaguely like stateside biscuits. They came with maple-flavored pancake syrup to drizzle over them.

Things were still hopping in Shibuya when we left. We caught the Ginza subway line up to Aoyama Itchome ("Blue Mountain First Street"), changed for the Oedo line to our station, Azabu-Juban, and walked home. The trip only took about 30 minutes, even with the crowds.

We wonder if our Fritz is looking for us to come home, like Hachiko all those years ago...we miss him, and we're looking forward to seeing him in May.

Building wrap

2006-12-16T17:01:00.000-08:00

In one of my first posts, I touched on the fact that our apartment building is undergoing renovation, and that the part being worked on is all wrapped in a barrier that prevents anyone from seeing the construction taking place. The building in blue in the picture below is another example. In the weeks since, I've noticed that this seems to be a Tokyo-wide phenomenon: building renovation, demolition, or construction only takes place behind curtains.

One reason this makes sense is that buildings are crowded so closely together. The dust and paint from a project would threaten nearby structures and public areas. And this is a city that washes its sidewalks by hand.

Something else must be at play here, hoewever. Even large building projects, set off by themselves, are completely wrapped until finished, apparently. For example, we passed this site on the train the other week. Imagine the additional expense this cocooning involved.

Maybe the construction wrapping is as much a bow to visual aesthetics as anything else. Rather than show something to the world that is unfinished, messy, or unsightly, they present a barrier that sends an acceptable signal: work in progress.

Thinking about this, I remember my experience bringing gifts to my co-workers when I first came here (an important ritual). I was told that the wrapping was as important as the gift itself. Thank goodness I had Cindy's help. Sure enough, when the gifts were passed out, there was much admiration of the paper, and how each present was wrapped.

So, maybe building wrap in Tokyo is more than just a dust shield, and more than just a visual screen. Perhaps it even functions to heighten the anticipation of something new--like a present under the Christmas tree.

Edifice of the Week: DoCoMo Tower

2006-12-13T04:35:00.000-08:00

This week we salute the DoCoMo Tower in Shinjuku. It rises to 492 feet. To put this in context, it is only about a third of the height of the Empire State Building. Still, it is one of the five tallest buildings in Tokyo, and towers over the other skyscrapers in its neighborhood. Aside from its height, this building has a number of features which make it memorable.

I see this building every day at work from this vantage point (the south). When I first viewed it, I thought something looked odd, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Later, I realized that for such a large building, it had very few windows. A colleague told me that the reason for this is that very few people work in the building--much of it is filled with computers and machinery. NTT DoCoMo, the building's owner, is the largest cell phone company in Japan. The entire top part of the structure is a cell phone tower.

From the north side, the building looks down on Shinjuku station, the busiest train station in the world. Every day 3.5 million people commute through it. A few years ago, DoCoMo installed a large clock near the top of the north side of the tower, so commuters could easily see the the time. The clock face has a radius of about 60 feet. When the clock was installed, the structure became the tallest clock tower in the world.

I understand that there is a lighting system that tells commuters whether or not they'll need an umbrella when they leave work--you just look to see what color the lights are on the top. I've just heard about this, and haven't yet got the hang of which lights represent which conditions.

Sign of the Week: Don't Cross Against the Light

2006-12-12T12:28:00.000-08:00

This sign is at a busy pedestrian crossing at one of the major Tokyo streets, the Meiji-dori. I've mentioned before the distinct absence of jaywalkers, and attributed it to public virtue. At this intersection, at least, maybe people just don't want to get killed. The car in my photo helps make the point.

I'm not sure if the lightning bolts emanating from the car in the picture represent a blaring horn, squealing brakes, or just the sheer power of the car's momentum. There's no mistaking the look on the hapless jaywalker's face, however. He knows he's a goner. If only he hadn't been so impatient! Notice further the little beads of sweat springing from the car. The driver is panicking: "Where did that little man come from? I'll never be able to stop in time!" When you cross against the light, you are not only hurting yourself, you're playing havoc with the lives of unsuspecting drivers. So please--it's just not worth it. Even if you don't care about yourself, wait for the light.

Vehicle of the Week: the Yakimo truck

2006-12-11T04:41:00.000-08:00

Some vehicles are fast. Some are sporty. Some are roomy. Some are luxurious. Some are tiny. But only one in our neighborhood can make your mouth water before it's even in sight. It's the pick-up truck that belongs to the yakiimo man.

In the bed of the truck is a wood-burning oven. No kidding--in the picture, you can see the firewood stacked next to it. The white pipe is the chimney.

Yakiimo are roasted sweet potatoes. While they get piping hot in the oven, the yakiimo man slowly cruises the neighborhood, stopping now and then to make a sale, or tend to the taters.

The first hint the yakiimo man is nearby is the distinctive cry "yaki-iiiiiiii-mooooo," delivered in a slow, deep-register sing-song. Speakers atop the truck's cab broadcast the welcome news. The second clue--if the wind is right--is the delicious aroma. C.J. can testify that I have, on occasion, altered course while out on a walk in order to intercept this vehicle.

Buy a yakiimo, and it's too hot to hold. The vendor puts it in a bag for you. A little salt, a little butter, and there's not much better, particularly on a chilly night. And the nights are starting to get chilly. So, for this week, hats off to the yakiimo truck!

Edifice of the Week: Azabu Tower

2006-12-06T05:39:00.000-08:00

For the first installment of Edifice of the Week, I've chosen a building just a couple of blocks from our residence. It's called Azabu Tower.

Since much of the city was destroyed in WW II (the neighborhood we live in now was totally demolished) few buildings are over fifty years old. Some (like Azabu Tower) seem to have been built with a sense of whimsy. I was going to say it is incongruous with the rest of the neighborhood, but I haven't really noticed a prevailing style among these newer buildings. Maybe doing things differently is the aesthetic. Regardless, it obviously takes great engineering to build something like this.

Vehicle of the Week: Toyota Ractis

2006-12-05T06:04:00.000-08:00

Welcome to the first edition of Vehicle of the Week. There are plenty of cars in the city I've never seen before. Some are just variations of vehicles the Japanese companies make for the American market. Others you can only get here or in other parts of Asia. They tend toward smaller models than we're used to, which makes sense because the streets can be tiny, and the people who drive the cars are smaller than most Americans.

This model is the Toyota Ractis, and you can only get it in Asia right now. There are lots of teensy SUV style types around; I think this is the most sporty-looking. Note the location of the rear wheels. They drive on the left here, so the steering wheel location is the reverse of ours.

Sign of the Week: Watch where you sit!

2006-12-04T06:58:00.000-08:00

This week we'll begin posting items of the week. The first is the Sign of the Week. The only qualifications are that the sign be different from what we were used to in the U.S., and entertaining in some way.

In that spirit, here is a sign from the town square of Azabu Juban, just down the street from us. A translation? It seems to say something about the "time of the berries." OK, I don't really know, but you'll probably get the gist of it easily enough.

We'll post the Sign of the Week each Monday. Join us tomorrow for the Vehicle of the Week.

An oasis of nature

2006-11-30T03:34:00.000-08:00

Not everything in Tokyo is hustle and bustle. We stopped briefly Saturday in the large park around Meiji Shrine. The shrine and land were donated by the family of Emperor Meiji, who re-opened Japan to the West in the 1800s, and passed away in the early 1900s.

Most of the park is wooded. It was relaxing to walk along under the trees, and interesting to see so many species with which we are unfamiliar. The pavement on the path was the only hint that we weren't deep in the wilderness. Our route paralleled the north boundary of the park.

After some time, we came to an open area surrounding the "Treasure museum," a large structure housing the personal effects of the emperor and his daughter. It was closed, but we spent some time at some nearby koi ponds. The fish were as large as the ducks.

There were a number of people about, but it was not at all crowded; just a few folks enjoying the pleasant day. I realized that one of the buildings in the distance was my workplace.

Another day we'll come back here. This is a big park, and there's much more exploring to do.

Waxing philosophical on public virtue

2006-11-25T16:27:00.000-08:00

Before coming to Tokyo, I had heard something about the high level of public virtue that exists here. My Japanese teacher (a Tokyo native) had described her initial surprise at the unwieldy chains and locks used in Philadelphia to secure bicycles against theft. In Tokyo, most people don't lock their bikes; if they do, they use a small key-lock that keeps the back wheel from turning, but would do little to hinder a determined thief.

Our little time here so far does not qualify me to speak about lower crime rates, but I can say it certainly does feel safer here. Maybe this is because I have seen very little evidence of any sort of public wrong-doing. For example, two misdemeanors easily noticeable in most U.S. cities--trash dumping and grafitti--are conspicuously absent. Even jaywalking--a Stateside term that has become synonymous with petty wrongdoing--does not happen here. Seriously, hordes of pedestrians stand and wait, not just for the green traffic light, but for the green "walk" sign. And not just at the busy, dangerous intersections, but at small intersections, with no traffic in sight. I have yet to see a Japanese jaywalker.

And yet, I think it is more than just an absence of petty crime that makes me feel secure. Tokyo adds to the equation a sense of proactive public goodness that is hard to ignore. The other day I was walking to lunch with a couple of colleagues when a pick-up truck went slowly by, a message blaring from speakers on its roof. I thought perhaps the driver was selling something, but there was nothing in the back of the truck. A political campaign? But there were no posters, no names on the truck. I asked my companions what the truck was doing. "Oh," said one, "It is giving reminder to be nice to people and do good thing...like recycling, to be good..."

For a moment I tried to picture this happening in the States. A speaker truck weaves through Manhattan at noon: "Remember, citizens, be nice to each other, and to visitors! Recycle properly! Be polite! Be good citizens!" About the only way I can picture this happening would be if it was part of a sketch on David Letterman. We Americans are too jaded, too individualistic, and would rather not be lectured on public virtue. "Politeness-man" is a comic figure.

Should American city-dwellers adopt this sense of public virtue? The potential benefits are compelling. After all, here we are in Tokyo, living in the middle of one of the largest cities on earth, walking around at night in complete safety. What if New York was like this? My guess is that we'll never know. I think it's a matter of culture; less a question of "should" than "could." Too bad, in a way...

Thanksgiving

2006-11-24T06:01:00.000-08:00

The Thursday of Thanksgiving Day in the U.S. is, I was surprised to find out, also a holiday here in Japan. It doesn't show up on any calendar I've seen, but I understand that is the way with holidays here. The official name of the holiday, according to my colleagues, is "Giving Thanks for Labor" Day. Some companies (mine included) give their workers Friday off as well. So it ends up much like Thanksgiving in the States.

Another similarity is that Christmas shopping is now officially in full swing. Christmas displays are in shop windows, and Christmas songs are playing (in English) in the restaurants. "Santa-san" is everywhere. Very few Japanese are Christians, but they love shopping and giving gifts, so this is a popular holiday in Tokyo.

The three of us spent Thanksgiving at the home of Joel and Michelle Johnson from the LDS Tokyo 1st Ward (English), the church congregation we attend. There were a number of ex-pats there. We had turkey, stuffing, pie--all the things you would get at a Thanksgiving dinner in the States. Everything was delicious, and best of all, we got to know some really nice folks. It was the first chance we had to really converse with others in English since we got here.

Today we went to explore the Shibuya shopping district. It was very crowded, with malls and stores in abundance. Cindy says this is the Tokyo she had been expecting before we got here.

Sticker shock, too, was in abundance. It seems that we leave for a shopping trip knowing everything is going to be expensive, but when we see the prices, we are somehow still shocked.

Plumbing pix

2006-11-22T05:51:00.000-08:00

We've had so many requests for a picture of the magical toilet that I'm going to post one here. You can see the washbasin atop the tank. On the left are the electrical controls for the various functions described in the earlier post.

I feel funny spending so much time on the topic, but you know--bathrooms are something we can all relate to. In this spirit, I just had to include a shot of the amazing urinal I visited yesterday. The basic idea seems to be to create the illusion that you're camping in the woods. The picture may be a little hard to figure out; let's just say that the blue circle is the target. As one does one's business, sensors trigger fountains on either side to rinse the glass. Outlined footprints show you where to stand.

Neighborhood street

2006-11-19T02:02:00.000-08:00

Here is the street leading through Azabu-Juban to our place. It has lots of shops and restaurants.

Our building is the one in the background with the scaffolding. When buildings are being worked on here, the scaffolding is wrapped with some sort of material. Our scaffolding is due to come down before the new year.

View from balcony

2006-11-18T14:34:00.000-08:00

This is our view. The compound with all the trees is the Korean embassy.

Our new residence

2006-11-18T04:36:00.000-08:00

Our new home is an apartment on the 7th floor of a 12-story high-rise. We're getting to know our way around a little. It's in a great neighborhood, though nothing like any place we've ever lived. It is called Minami Azabu. "Minami" means "South"; "Azabu" seems to be a reference to silk cloth, so perhaps they once produced that kind of thing around here. Now the area houses many embassies. The Korean embassy is visible from our balcony, and we have also come across the Bulgarian, French, German, Iranian, and Qataran embassies.

Across the street to us on the north is Azabu-Juban ("Tenth" Azabu). There are many shops and restaurants there, and it's where we've done most of our exploring. Last night, on our date night, Cindy and I found a tiny noodle shop. We liked it and will be returning for more.

Thursday night we walked over to the LDS Temple to see it (we are LDS, so this is an important place for us). It's about a 15-minute walk. I'll try to get a good picture of it to post. In the building right next to it are housed the LDS meetinghouse, Japanese MTC, and housing for temple workers and patrons who come from out of town.

Getting back to our residence: Thursday we moved in and had our orientation. We took a taxi from our hotel, and a fellow from the property management group met us at the apartment. He showed us how to operate the place. That may be a funny way to express it, but there were a number of things to learn. We have a key that lets us into the apartment building downstairs. Then up the elevator and down an outside (but covered) walkway to our door. There we use the key again.

There is a very small foyer with a marble floor. Here we remove our shoes (custom, and it's in the lease agreement) and put them in a small built-in cabinet. Leaving the foyer, we enter a short hall. A door to the right is C.J.'s bedroom. A door to the left is the powder room.

The only thing in the powder room is the toilet. Japanese toilets are really something. We Yankees lag behind in this department, I'm afraid. In the first place, the seat is heated to a toasty temperature. Then, after one finishes one's business and flushes, one has the option of an array of buttons which will direct mists, sprays or streams of water in various directions--with varying degrees of force. Finally, there is a "drying" button. There are even buttons we haven't figured out yet. They are all helpfully labelled, but of course the labels are in Japanese. Oh, yes--there is another feature. On top of the toilet's tank is a small, built-in basin with a tiny spigot. When you flush the toilet, the fill water comes out of the spigot and into the basin, then drains into the tank. So you can wash your hands in clean water without the need for a separate sink. This is good, because there's no room for a sink.

Continuing into the apartment, there is a sliding door on the left which leads to the kitchen, and door straight ahead which divides the hall from the living room. The kitchen contains a small refrigerator, a gas cooktop with three burners, the smallest oven you ever saw. Cindy has seen toaster ovens larger. She says the oven can only broil. There is also a very wide, very deep sink, and cupboards. We keep our trash cans in the kitchen, too. We have to separate trash into "burnable" and "non-burnable."

The kitchen also has an opening into the living room. The first thing you come to in the living room is a small dining table with four chairs. Behind them is a sofa, coffee table, chair, and entertainment center. Beyond that are the sliding glass doors to the balcony.

Out on the balcony is the clothes dryer--the smallest I've seen, though our agent said it was out on the balcony because it was so large. Our view faces west, so we get the sunset.

Also opening onto the balcony is our bedroom, through similar sliding glass doors. Our bed is not as large as queen size, but seems a little larger than a double. There is a nightstand with a lamp and clock, and a closet. Our room also opens onto the living room.

Between our bedroom and C.J.'s is the bathroom complex, which is different and interesting. It consists of two rooms. The first has a sink and mirror on the right, and the washing machine--tiny but new and hi-tech. Through a tightly-sealed door is the bath. The forepart of that room has a shower hanging on the wall. You take a shower there--the water goes all over the room. A gutter runs through the room to take away the water.

Before you shower, you fill the bath (you can do this by hitting a remote button in the kitchen, if you wish. The bathtub is short, but very deep. I can't lie in it; I can only sit. But I can fit almost entirely inside it because it's so deep. So the concept is: take a shower to clean off, then sit and soak in the tub. The whole system is ingenious because one person can be bathing while another shaves or brushes teeth, and yet the toilet is still available for use.

The Japanese like wood. All the floors except for the room with the bath are of wood, with a high polish. All the doors are of wood, stained to a deep brown.

Welcome to our blog!

2006-11-18T04:12:00.000-08:00

Dear Friends:

Here we are, settling into our new surroundings. We've started this record to share our experience in Tokyo with friends and family. "We" includes Cindy, my wife, and C. J., our son, and me. I have been assigned to my company's Tokyo office for a six-month rotation, and Cindy and C. J. have come along for the adventure. We will all take turns posting items, and welcome your comments. Thanks for visiting!