When I first described Japan, my account was about my disappointment in shrines. It was based on stereotypes that were in desperate need of being proven incorrect. Before, I walked the streets of a strange place. What has changed is not how the area looks, but how I look at the area. This strange place steadily became home to me as I biked its streets every day and Japan turned into something beautiful.

In the last post, I talked about Sadako Sasaki. Last weekend I was able to visit Hiroshima.

After being questioned by a Jehova’s witnesses, my friends and I were able to make it to the Peace Museum where we saw WWII from Japan’s point-of-view. Since we are all American, it was interesting to see how Japan saw the bombing of Hiroshima. Most of the time, the question that stood was: “Why Japan?” And by the end, I started to try to think of why such a place would be the target of such destruction. Even though the A-bomb grounded Hiroshima, Japan has prospered and there has been an upsurge of technology, culture, and life since then.

I have learned so many things about Japan and I no longer question Japan’s television, fashion, or way of making everything look super cute.

At first glance, Japan was a bit disappointing; filled with wires and views marred by antennas. Four months later, I have realized that the Japan that I had wanted of friendly people and beautiful landscapes was not as far away from me as I thought. Although antennas and rusty buildings sprout from the ground at steady intervals, I am able to look past that and finally see what Japan really is through experiencing the culture first hand.

I realized only now that since I was in quarantine (for having an unidentifiable type of influenza) that I was not able to write my “free post” for this blog. Truthfully, being in quarantine actually gave me the idea for this post.

Paper cranes in Japan. They are everywhere, and essentially every Nihonjin knows how to make one. When I came to Japan, my paper-folding skills impressed many a person because I was able to fold paper into various objects and creatures, among which is the paper crane. I heard different stories about why the crane is so popular, but why Japan?

The most popular meaning of the paper crane relates to Sadako Sasaki, a young girl dying of leukemia supposedly caused by the bombing at Hiroshima. She attempted to make 1,000 paper cranes in order to make a wish, as the popular legend goes. As the stories have it, she was unable to make all the cranes, but her friend finished making them for her. It is said that if a person were to make one thousand paper cranes the gods would grant him/her a wish. This legend, of courses, precedes that of the very popular story of Sadako Sasaki.

People in Japan use paper cranes at any occasion. At the International Festival, there were small paper cranes lining doorways and there was also a giant paper crane made of paper with several flags on it. Originally, I thought it was for good luck, but I learned that the crane symbolizes peace. Japan is all about harmony, so it would make sense that at different events there would be cranes everywhere; to keep the peace.

The Politics of Greetings

The scenario: One ryuugakusei (international student) and one Nihonjin (Japanese person) are meeting for the first time. What happens? Do they shake hands or bow? Over the course of Gaidai Sai (Kansai Gaidai’s International Festival), I was able to witness many people meeting each other for the first time. I was also able to witness how couples reacted with each other in public, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

As for the first questions, I wasn’t sure how the situation would play out. Instinctively the ryuugakusei went in for the handshake, and the younger generation responded with a meek handshake back, accompanied with a quick bow. It got me thinking about power distance between two people that know each other, two acquaintances, and two strangers. Power distance meaning social gap between people, i.e. boss vs. employee has a larger power distance than employee vs. employee. So the power distance between two strangers is uncertain. For a handshake, how do you determine the power distance? Does the handshake have to be long and strong or whoever puts his hand out first is the more dominant figure? For bows, I noticed it is much easier to identify the power distance. It depends on how deep the bow is and who continues to bow even after the other person stops bowing. Usually, I’ve observed, the person who continues to bow is one who considers himself “under” the other person.

Sometimes power distance is broken between strangers due to other variables such as signs or costumes.

These two are boyfriend and girlfriend. Should they hold hands in public? In this generation, are they equal or is the male still the dominant figure? Since they are my friends, I know that (from what can been seen when with them), they are equal or if anything, the female dominates the male in a playful manner. The whole aspect of power distance intrigues me here in Japan since people interact so differently here. The body language is so interesting to observe, especially between the three types of couples (two strangers, two acquaintances, two friends).

As I wandered around Hirakata-shi, a lost and hungry as a student fresh-off-the-airplane and dropped into a new realm known as Japan, I saw something in the distance that not only surprised me, but compelled me to move towards it to have a closer look. What were the objects in the distance, jutting out into the overcast skies? Nothing other than two crosses held high on the steeples of a Catholic Church.

Catholicism is not widely practiced in Japan. The main religions are Shinto and Buddhism. Shinto shrines and Buddhist temples can be found all over Japan, whereas Catholic Churches are sparse.

When I reached the church, I was a bit surprised to find the place empty. I kept thinking that a Catholic Church would spark a bit more interest to tourists, even though Hirakata-shi is small and has little to offer compared to Osaka or Kyoto. I suppose the church was left as it was, used only during services. There were no signs inside or outside that hinted at its history, although inside there were pamphlets in Japanese and Portuguese. But why Portuguese? It wasn’t that Hirakata-shi has a booming population of Portuguese speakers, but rather that Francis Xavier who was Portuguese, as well as a Jesuit missionary, landed in Japan in 1549. Where there is a church, there is Portuguese. That is all I could suppose since I couldn’t go church hunting for more evidence.

Nevertheless, it is interesting to see the occasional church and even more interesting to see a Japanese person wearing a cross around his/her neck for fashion purposes only. I guess I was a bit biased as I was more inclined to think that the Nihonjin wear religious pieces as a fashion statement as opposed to a gaikokujin wearing one because s/he believes in that religion. I know better now, even though sometimes I am still caught off guard when I see anything of the Christian influence.

In a society accustomed to men in business suits enters: The woman. Neatly dressed in a business skirt and blazer, the Japanese woman now joins the realm of men. Traditionally, women were the homemakers; the business they ran (and still run today) was the home. A mother is like a well-oiled machine, continually providing a clean house, clean clothes, moral support, and dinner on the table at the end of the day.

On top of that, women are joining the workforce. Although most girls in university still have the dream of being flight attendants, more and more young ladies are looking for jobs in the political and business worlds- where the employees of such fields were predominantly men. But what has caused this change over the years? Are women’s decisions the only factors in the shift?

Though the Japanese workforce may not be completely run by males these days, it still seems as though Japanese men naturally tend to dominate. On the bus to Hirakata-shi, a man and woman boarded the bus together. In this case, the man actually led the woman on the bus. The man also was the first to sit down and the woman followed shortly behind. When we arrived in Hirakata-shi, he signaled that the woman should stand up, and for the stretch of the aisle, she was in the lead. However, once the bus stopped, the man sidestepped and stood in front of the woman and led her off the bus.

It made me think that even though this act might seem insignificant, it was still a small taste of the natural behavior of Japanese men to be more dominant even in general, every day situations.

Here are articles of Japan women in the workforce relating to flight attendants and closing the gender gap, respectively:
“Flight Attendants Have Arrived…”
“JAPAN: Dwindling Workforce…”

They used to say that mimicry is the deepest form of flattery. Today we call it “globalization”.

Globalization, as defined by the Oxford English Dictionary online, is: “The action, process, or fact of making global; esp. (in later use) the process by which businesses or other organizations develop international influence or start operating on an international scale, widely considered to be at the expense of national identity” (OED Online). According to this definition, globalization seems to only appear in the business world. I am a Business major and can heartily agree to globalization’s important role in business. However, I can more readily say that globalization happens in our lives every day, whether or not we are dealing with business.

A place where I could observe globalization at its finest is nowhere other than Kansai Gaidai. At Kansai Gaidai, people are from all over the world and come to not only study, but also experience Japanese culture.

In Visual Anthropology class, we watched a movie about globalization in Japan, specifically how American and European ways infiltrated the Japanese culture and how the Japanese reacted and adapted to them. I realized that everyday I see Asian girls with fair skin and light brown hair, as though mimicking the European and American look. Their style of clothing is also an interesting mixture of clothing worn in the 80’s and 90’s with a “cutesy” Japanese flare, of course.

It is interesting to see Japanese girls try so hard to interpret Western style and sing English songs when at the same time we foreigners are trying our luck with Japanese songs and even traditional Japanese culture. From Yukata-wearing to eating with chopsticks, as gaijin (foreigners) we try and accept different parts of Japanese culture.

From here, we can go home and globalize even more by teaching our friends and family how to use chopsticks, how to sing Japanese songs, or even how to speak Japanese. Globalization is not just in Japan, but as ryuugakusee (international students) in Japan at Kansai Gaidai, we are helping cultures mix, transform, and eventually spread across the world.

Over the three-day weekend, I was hoping to witness some sort of live sport action during the day adventures on which I went. Unfortunately, the closest thing to watching baseball that I witnessed was watching a middle-school-aged baseball team wearing their uniforms biking past me. Therefore, with sports out of the question, I am left to write about recreation and what better place to observe people and pass the time than in an aquarium.

Osaka Aquarium, better known to the Japanese as Kaiyukan, houses many creatures from ducks to dolphins. The entire aquarium is built around a central tank that has the famous whale shark amongst other sea creatures that until I saw them believed only to be figments of Hayao Miyazaki’s imagination (fish really are massive!) So as I walked down spiraling ramp and realized that are two floors of seeing the same fish, I’ve pretty much seen them all, I started looking around me. I was surprised to see so many Nihonjin (Japanese people) and very few to no Gaijin (foreigners) enjoying this tourist attraction.

Amongst the Nihonjin I saw many a H1N1 mask. I watched as people tried to push their way to the viewing glass, yet the mask-wearers stood patiently towards the back.

This situation was interesting to observe because of two reasons. Firstly, It made me wonder how many people actually had the virus and how many were just protecting themselves from it. There really was no way to differentiate between the two types of mask wearers and both were treated as if they were not there at all. It reminded me of how mask wearers on trains usually have an empty seat beside them. A thought popped into my head once that the people who are not sick should write “NOPE” or “NOT I” on their masks, but then I figured it would further make actual ill people more of social pariahs. Secondly, maybe the reason why the non-mask wearers pushes past and mask-wearer stays put is because that’s just how these certain people function. Maybe these specific mask-wearers are mild people who do not want to shove past in order to see, while the non-mask wearers are just the opposite type. I would have to view many more encounters between mask and non-mask wearers in order to fully grasp the social interaction between the two.

In any case, I realized that I was viewing the human species rather than the aquatic; therefore, returned to view the animals behind the glass as much as they viewed us.

*Due to the fact that WordPress.com suspended my previous blog for spamming, I have taken all links out of this post. If you would like a link to the Kaiyukan website, please leave me a comment. Thank you.

In the most basic way possible, Pachinko is a gambling game that involves a machine, pegs inside the machine, and little balls that ultimately decide where your money goes: Into your pocket or into the machine.

Like casinos, time spent in these centres guarantees a lighter wallet and sensation in your ears similar to walking out of a club after a few hours. I can only vouch for the experience of being inside a centre, but not actually playing the game. Most people I have talked to were just as intrigued as I am about the sexual advertisements, bright lights, and even Engrish signs outside the Pachinko buildings.

However, lack of funds and general college life has hindered us from actually playing. But what makes these places so popular? When I think about gambling of this sort, I immediately think of Mohegan Sun, a casino in the New England area, and Las Vegas. I suppose the difference is that Pachinko is everywhere. Namco City in Osaka houses many Pachinko centres; it seemed like there was one at every entrance.

People seem to be able to nonchalantly walk in, give it a go, and go home. Whereas in casinos, people plan out vacations or short holidays just to spend time in the casino or any resort around it. The idea of sitting glaze-eyed watching little balls claim the fate of my money seems like a poor alternative to sitting at home and staring blankly at my television. Then again, if I had sufficient funds, I might be motivated to try and it makes me wonder why I would be, moreover why would the public be? I suppose the reason for me to go in would be because it is something I have never tried before, a reason that would not apply to most Japanese people. There is also the chance to become even slightly richer is a tempting offer on the horizon, a sentiment that college-aged people and older seem to feel as well when stepping into these Pachinko palaces.

Here are some follow up links if you are still eager to learn about this gambling game:

Dan Reed’s “A little about the machines, and who makes (made) them”

“Pachinko Nation” by David Plotz

In a small area with narrow streets, Japanese families, and stray cats are three dormitories that house many-an-international student. Though supposedly studious people, we international students come off as fairly rambunctious at times as our alcoholic antics and bike brigades are imminent incidences around the neighborhood Katahoko.

While traveling down a “short-cut” consisting of narrow, supposedly two-way streets (that really only have the capacity to let through one vehicle and not even a bike at a time), we international students pass a lot of houses lined with plants and even fewer houses lined with water bottles.

I did not know the significance of these water bottles. The questions to be posed were: What caused these people to use water bottles? I thought perhaps they were to collect water and in times of desperation, families would boil the water and drink it. This problem and solution reminded me of what my grandparents do at their house in the Philippines, collecting water in buckets, bottles, and big tanks during the rainy season to have water during the drought, so I did not further question the existence of these mysterious water containers.

Later on, I found out that these water bottles were not to collect water whenever it rained, but rather to scare away cats. The reason being that the cats would see their reflections in the water and it would frighten them. Therefore, the cats would run away rather than lurk around the houses. I found that I am not alone in wondering why people use these water bottles. Through Darren Barefoot’s blog, I read that cats are not the only animal people are trying to repel. Equally as annoying are dogs, apparently, because they tend to go to the bathroom on posts and walls. I am not sure if I fully believe that these water bottles can keep dogs away since dogs are territory-markers and will mark just about everything.

Whatever the reason, the use of these water bottles seemed like an old wives’ tale and a superstition. I was pleasantly surprised mostly because using water bottles is a rather old-fashioned tactic even in the hustle, bustle of a very technologically savvy Japan.

Pre-arrival to Japan, I used to think that Japanese shrines were places of worship. When I thought “shrines” I thought of a placid, even solemn place where people walked around in a collective state of awe. A place where the spirits resided and left their residue on those who rang bells, prayed, and left little messages- possibly a note to a loved one or maybe a wish for prosperity- on thin, white rice-colored pieces of parchment.

These days, shrines and temples now house those who not only wish for prosperity, but also live out their wish of gaining prosperity: Shop keepers. On a very atsui (hot) day during orientation week, a large amount of gaijin signed up for the Kyoto tour. Since there were so many gaijin, the huge group was broken up into little groups with a random amount of Japanese speaking partners. After the introductions, small talk, and train ride, our group arrived in Kyoto and walked to the Kiyomizu-dera Temple. I was ready to see the temple and walk on a path where many people paying their respect to whatever transcendent being they wished. The whole process of entering the temple, washing the hands and cleaning the mouth seemed like a very serious ritual, so I was enthusiastic to have a go at it.

I suppose I had a highly romanticized view on shrines because after that small ritual, we entered the beginning of what seemed like a huge shopping district. However, there were people ringing bells and partaking in spiritual rituals, even though not even fifteen away there was a shop taking advantage of tourists and the full wallets. The juxtaposition definitely left me a bit disappointed. My disappointment did not go unnoticed and a few of my group members let me know that most shrines have become tourist attractions, which then caused the creation and arrival of small shops. These shops do sell objects that somehow relate to the shrine-experience. For example, we found many fortune and talisman shops on our winding way up the mountain.

Nevertheless, I still enjoyed the somewhat peaceful walk up even though it was infiltrated by the squeals of hopeful girls receiving positive fortunes.