Meiji Jingu is one of the largest shrines in Japan. It can be accessed easily from the bustling Harajuku Station. And indeed it receives many visitors, especially from overseas. Because it’s about a 15 minute walk from my work, I often go there when I need to get away from the dense activity of Tokyo. The shrine is mostly a large forest comprised of over 100,000 trees donated from around Japan. The planning and planting of the forest deserves a post all its own. Continue reading
If, like me, you love maps, you’ll love a website called Worldmapper. Worldmapper is a collaboration between a British and an American university. They have created a series of cartographs, maps that represent statistical, rather than geographic, parameters. For instance, if each country’s size is based on its population, then you’d have something like this:
It’s here at last. Autumn. Hard to believe I know. Actually, quite suddenly last week, around Wednesday or Thursday, all the leaves just decided to flare up into fall flames. In other temperate parts of the world, the leaves turn around late September to late mid October. In Tokyo, it usually happens in November. This year was late.
I made it a point to go to as many parks and other places with great views of autumn leaves. I love the view of Meiji St. from my gym in Shibuya, walking down gingko-lined Platinum Ave. in Shirokane, and strolling through one of the best parks and gardens in Tokyo: Shinjukukyoen. Better known for the cherry blossoms in the spring, Shinjukuyoen is an even better place to visit in the fall because there are so few people there. This is probably because it’s a good 15 minute walk from Shinjuku Station and it charges 200 yen. Formerly one of the shogun’s hunting grounds, it’s now one of the best places in Tokyo to get away from the crowds. I’ve added the pictures in my flickr account and you can check them out here.
The picture I included above is the full picture of the new header for the blog. As I visit more parks I’ll post more pictures.
Last week I wrote about T’s grandfather’s funeral. In this post, I’ll be writing about the man himself.
I spent a week around Kunio Kasai two summers ago. The rice fields of Yamato, the little village where he lived with his wife, Hisaye, were lushly green, rippling lazily in the humidity. We didn’t talk much. My Japanese was limited to the basics. So beyond, “Good morning”, and “Thank you”, our communication was limited to laughter, smiles and offering and accepting food. It’s amazing how much can be communicated without words. In fact, interaction can be perhaps a little more profound, because of the simple, pared down beauty of non-verbality. Continue reading
