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?

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.

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!

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.

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."