Category Archives: culture

Ayako’s Wedding

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petals on the dress

This past weekend I attended the wedding of my cousin-in-law, Ayako. It was a beautiful wedding. There were both personal touches and grand symbolic gestures. I especially liked the trumpet player, and the two singers who had powerful voices.

In a country of Buddhists and Shintoists, most weddings in Japan are Christian ceremonies. It’s indicative of the eclecticism of Japanese religious attitudes. So while most weddings are Christian, funerals are invariably Buddhist events. Most cemeteries are on Buddhist temple land. Shinto shrines seem reserved for other life milestones, and to ask for good luck and fortune.

Although the weddings are Christian, the ceremony and reception have been adapted to Japanese tastes. So here are some observations contrasted with Christian ceremonies in the US.

This was the third wedding I’ve attended in Japan (not including my own which was more American in style). So I feel I can make some generalizations.

men in pantsGetting Ready

Despite Hollywood movies, most Americans to do not hire a wedding planner, but rather organize the wedding themselves. In Japan, the couple goes to a wedding place, restaurant, or fancy hotel, and the arrangements are all made by the venue, in consultation with the couple of course.

Men wear white ties. Black ties are reserved for funerals. But I usually wear a tie that matches T’s dress. I also wear cowboy boots which is probably a fashion no-no.

There’s no gift registry like in the US. Guests give 30,000 yen (or about $300) in crisp new bills in an elaborate wedding envelope. These are collected in separate reception lines for either the bride and groom. Koreans do this too, but without the elaborate envelopes. This is such a democratic way of paying for a wedding, it’s a wonder that American’s don’t adopt this.

obiThe Ceremony

In the chapel, before or after the ceremony, the fathers of the bride and groom introduce all their family members to the other family. It’s a big job since it means remembering names of 2nd cousins-in-law, their spouses and children. And rarely, does this go smoothly. But a forgotten or mispronounced name merely results in laughter. Everyone’s a good sport about it.

The minister is often a white man. They mangle a sermon in Japanese as best they can.

There are no best men nor maids-of-honor. Neither are there flower girls or a ringbearer. I think this is an improvement. The dozens of best men and bridesmaids that are now common in American weddings is out of control. Three of each should be the max. One of each is elegant. Also the politics of choosing them is an unnecessary ordeal for the couple. However, I like the idea of one best mate to keep you loose during the proceedings.

And as a former ringbearer, I would be more than happy to see this role abolished. I wore white stockings and Little Earl Fauntleroy outfits for several weddings when I was about 4 and 5, and I hated it. I think I was chosen because I never cried or fussed. All I remember from those years was that I was mortified to be dressed like that and be the center of attention while I walked down the aisle holding a lacy cushion with the rings atop. I’m still a little traumatized just thinking about this.

champagne glasses
The Reception

Family sit in the back of the reception hall. As hosts they’re expected to offer the choice seats near the couple to other guests. The closest seats are occupied by the bosses of the couple. In fact, they’re considered the guests-of-honor. Not only do they sit nearest the couple, they also give the main toasts. In my opinion, this is a terrible idea. But it shows you the importance of work in Japanese society.

Even more terrible is that there is no dancing. There’s no first dance, or any kind of dance. For entertainment, there is some elaborate skit done by friends, usually a series of inside jokes. And there’s the, now standard, slideshow. It’s cool to see the couple from infancy to them as a pair now. Still, a wedding needs drunken people dancing and making a spectacle of themselves.

No garter is thrown. But a bouquet is often tossed. In Ayako’s wedding, she gave her bouquet to her older sister, Noriko. It’s like the handing of the torch, chosen by the bride. Brilliant idea.

The most moving part of the reception is the honoring of the parents. The couple makes speeches about their parents while the parents stand by the entrance. Then they bring flowers to them. Finally the groom’s father makes a speech. At every wedding, the father cries, and that makes everyone teary-eyed. I’ve yet to see the father get through the speech unscathed.

And that’s a typical Japanese wedding. I’m not sure why or when the Japanese adopted the western wedding. Nor how the various elements got adapted into it. There are still many who get married in Shinto shrines, so there probably has been a hybridization process between the two types.

The wedding itself was as close to perfect as you can get. Like Ayako, it was a classic, but not cookie-cutter. Congratulations, Aya-chan!

entrance

Disney Sea

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gourds of tin

It’s my dirty little secret. I enjoy going to Disney Sea and Disneyland. I might even love it. And since living in Japan I’ve been there quite a few times. I blame T. She did it to me.

Even though I grew up in Southern California, I think I’d only been to Disneyland maybe 4 times before coming to Tokyo. Mostly, my family wasn’t very rich and both my parents worked their asses off so they didn’t have much time to take us to Anaheim, a good hour drive away. Later, as a cynical teenager, I felt that Disneyland was just a terrible commercialized abomination and a waste of resources, the circus that kept the masses in la-la-land. I’m still of this opinion actually. So why do I go there then?

minnie

First, I’ve got to tell you about Las Vegas. The first time I went to Las Vegas I was just driving through with my friend Tracy on our way to hike and camp in the Grand Canyon. It was just a one night stay, a necessary inconvenience on the way to the real destination.

The one night we stayed there we had a blast. Each casino hotel was so over-the-top that it was just mind-blowing. There were scale-model replicas of the Pyramids and the Eiffel Tower, an indoor Venetian canal with gondolas, an artificial lake with a dazzling water show, mesmerizing lights everywhere. In short, I developed a respect for the detail, artistry, and awe-inspiring magnificence of the Las Vegas experience. And I was fascinated by the post-modern pastiche of the architecture, the strange mix of global visitors, and the hard-working Oz-like machinations behind the glittery veneer.

mickey's smile

It’s like any world wonder. A lot of resources went into building something that wasn’t necessary. But damn, it’s pretty spectacular to behold. In fact, in a lot of ways, it’s better than the Pyramids, or the Great Wall, or any of the temples of Angkor Wat. It’s better because those things were built for the ruling elite, for priests and kings, to protect their riches and intimidate the masses into submission.

Las Vegas, on the other hand, is for the people. Anyone can go there and enjoy it. You don’t need to be a sacrificial virgin or a power-hungry priest or conscripted soldier to enter. You can go there and spend all your money. Or you can go there and get free drinks while you play the slots. It’s your choice.

And Disneyland is a lot like that. Actually, the last time I went to the original Disneyland, I went with my friends Kevin and Shamron. We were all 18 and it was the first time that we didn’t go with our parents, as adults, more or less. We had a great time, riding the psychadelic kiddie rides and making cheesy poses with Goofy and Minnie.

Tokyo Disneyland is almost an exact replica of the original. Even the Pirates of the Caribbean has the same outdated robots doing the same repetitive mechanical movements. It’s so outdated it’s retro and cool.

Disney Sea, on the other hand, is an original. First of all, you can buy beer and wine. I always tell people Vegas is Disneyland for adults. But actually, Disney Sea is the real Disneyland for adults. There are fewer children running around, and many more couples. If you go after 6pm, the tickets are half off and there are virtually no kids. It’s terribly romantic. From where we live, it’s a half hour by subway and train.

T and I went last week to celebrate her birthday. We went on a Thursday and we didn’t have to wait for any of the rides. The newest scary ride, the Tower of Terror, was pretty gut-wrenching. I wanted to go again.

After going on all the big attractions we decided to go to the shows that we never had visited before. In the American Waterfront area we attended the Big Band Beat show which was a jazz concert with a tight big band, and fantastic singers and dancers. After the performance, T and I just looked at each other and said, “Wow!”.

Other things you can do there:

  • Get drinks at the Teddy Roosevelt Lounge in the cruise ship, and listen to a ragtime pianist.
  • Check out the AquaSphere that’s at the entrance. I can stare at this globe of the world for hours. It’s hilarious to see people line up to take a photo from the front.

the world at night

  • Watch the fire and water show that’s on the lake. This is really cool.
  • Visit the Planetarium that’s in the castle. I love turning the hand cranks to make the planets revolve around the sun. When I win the lottery, I’m building one of these in my mansion and throw parties for all my geek astronomy friends.

planetarium

In short, things like Vegas and the Disney theme parks are indeed wasteful capitalist monstrosities.  And do be sure to take up arms when the revolution happens.  In the meantime, go ahead and visit and marvel at the detailed artifice of imagined aesthetics.

For more pictures, click here.

The Stress of Urban Living

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triangulation

A few days ago, a man rented a van and intentionally ran over people in a crowded part of Tokyo. He got out of the vehicle and then proceeded to stab people randomly. Seven people died and another 14 were wounded. He explained that he was “tired of life”. I wonder if moving from Aomori, a remote rural part of Japan where the suspect is from, to Tokyo, a dense metropolis, was a factor in his tragic actions.

Earlier this year, I transferred from Shibuya to Meguro. I had worked in Shibuya, one of the three busiest station areas in Tokyo, for two years and the crowds started to aggravate me. People bumped me, cut me off, pushed, shoved, stepped on my feet. For a West Coast guy, used to a lot of personal space, it frayed my nerves. At first, it was interesting in an anthropological way, but then it just became people getting in my way, making me late for work.

My train line, the Yamanote, which circles around Tokyo, isn’t as crowded as other trains. The busiest lines are trains that radiate out to the suburbs. And the best way to describe those during peak hours is to think about that 50’s craze where as many people as possible stuffed themselves into a phone booth. Then imagine that every 5 minutes a few more squeeze themselves in. Repeat a dozen times. And that approximates the morning commute for millions of Tokyoites.

In the summer, it’s hot and sweaty and everyone’s in a suit. Eventually, you’re just propped up by the people around you. What a way to begin your day. I only did this for a month when I decided it’s better to pay higher rent and live closer to the city center. I once counted how many people were in physical contact with me and there were 12! I sometimes had to step out of the train, well before I reached my destination, because I couldn’t breathe. I could understand how people might have panic attacks.

Fortunately, once I moved to Ebisu, I only had to ride one station away to Shibuya and that was against the rush hour. But even after getting off the train, I had to contend with the throngs of spaced-out, slow-moving teenagers fixated on their mobiles, iPods and handheld video games. I still go there to go to my gym. But dread the crowds when I come back home.

Now it’s a 5 minute bike ride to Meguro. Or a 15 minute walk. And my sanity has begun to restore itself.

The Japanese are a slender and patient lot, two essential traits to survive the daily commute. If similar conditions existed in most other countries, there would be daily outbreaks of fisticuffs and hard words. I’ve found myself, more than once, barking at someone who obliviously bumps into me while sending a text message, elbowing overly-aggressive commuters, or flaring my nostrils at slow-moving tourists.

In this context, it’s not surprising that someone could snap, and wantonly hurt innocent people, because he was “tired of life”. I have an inkling of where that frustration is coming from. Out of the 30 million people who live in the Tokyo metro area, there are bound to be more than a few who just can’t deal with the stress of urban living.

But it’s important to remember, amidst all the media global coverage of the stabbings, that Tokyo is still the safest place I’ve ever lived in or visited, amazing for a dense city of its size. You can walk in any neighborhood at all hours by yourself and you’d be okay. There have been a few grisly crimes recently, but it’s nothing compared to the constant high-level of crime that I’ve lived amidst in other countries.

Still, dense urban living anywhere is not natural. It’s not good for the soul, mind or body. But concentration of people in the cities have been a powerful trend in the last 200 hundred years. I wonder what it would take to reverse the irresistible draw of the cities.

Sumo

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in the shadow of giants

After visiting the Edo-Tokyo Museum (which I wrote about in a previous post) we dropped in at the nearby Sumo Museum. The Sumo Museum is one long room inside the Ryogoku Kokugikan, the main sumo hall for the Grand Sumo Tournaments in Tokyo.

There’s minimal English explanation throughout the exhibit but if you’re familiar with some sumo history, you may be able to identify some of the costumes and accoutrements. Otherwise it’s a lot of over-sized clothing and interesting but perplexing objects.

I liked the old bansuke banners, illustrated rankings of the wrestlers during the 19th Century. Even more cool are the portraits, illustrations and photographs of every yokozuna, or grand champion, that line one of the walls. Currently there are two yokozuna, both Mongolian. The haughty, dominating Asashoryu mixes sheer power with perfect technique. And the fearless upstart with the baby face, Hakuho, blends speed and determination.

Currently there are many Mongolians and Eastern Europeans in the ranks. It seems to be a concern among traditionalists. But it couldn’t hurt to expand the global fan base of a sport that is virtually ignored by the younger generation. There’s one high level Korean wrestler, Kasugao. I couldn’t find any information about how he became a rikishi, or wrestler. I usually follow his matches and root him on. Gotta cheer on a brotha.

My favorite rikishi is another Mongolian, Ama, an undersized and slim competitor (for a rikishi anyway), but a skillful wrestler. He’s viewed as an underdog, even though he’s one of the top-ranked, because he’s smaller than almost all his opponents. Even so, he’s 185cm/6’1” and 124kg/273lbs. Although, when I first started following his career two years ago he weighed under 100kg. His demeanor comes across as humble, with his pock-marked face and restrained manners.

Here’s a video clip of one of Ama’s matches. It gives you a good taste of the kind of power, speed and quickness necessary to succeed. These are basically football linemen brutally pounding, slapping, pushing, throwing and flipping each other without football pads or helmets. Ama is the one with the brown belt.

Karaoke!

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CIMG8502.JPG

One of the great cultural contributions from Japan is karaoke. It’s different here than in America and the UK (the two other places I’ve sung karaoke). First of all, instead of one big open room, usually a bar full of strangers, you rent a room by the half hour with just your friends.

Back in Oregon, my friends and I would drive over to the bar in the Red Lion Inn. I usually went with my buddies, Gil and Jerry, and whoever else wanted to tag along. We’d submit a request for a song to the DJ. And then perhaps 30 minutes to an hour later she’d call us up and we’d sing for the whole room. If we were lucky we’d sing two, maybe three, songs each by the end of the night. The DJ would make wisecracks and only Jerry would sound decent.

I was always surprised at how many people took karaoke seriously. The regulars would have one or two songs that they had perfected and that’d be their shining moment of glory.

In Japanese karaoke places, you can sing all the songs you want with people you know in your own private room. And many places serve decent food that’s delivered to your room. Some of the rooms are just bare bones. But most are well-decorated, plush and even swanky. At my last birthday party, we went to a karaoke place that had a shallow pool of warm water under the table for a nice relaxing footbath. All these places have a decent selection of English songs.

During the day, the rates can be quite cheap. There’s one place near my work that charges 50 yen per 30 minutes before 5pm. In the evenings the rates increase to 300 yen per half hour per person. If you miss the last train, a few thousand yen will get you a room from late night to early morning.

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After a while I’ve found that karaoke participants fall into a few types.

The Speed Dialer programs several songs in a row so that we have a solid half hour of just them singing. This is poor karaoke etiquette. However, this is a good time to eat all the food and chit chat with everyone else. Afterwards, it’s best to hide the remote control from them.

The Sneak Attack repeatedly says to everyone that they can’t sing. Their voice is awful. They’re tone deaf. They don’t know any songs. Then all of a sudden their song comes up and they sing beautifully, knocking everyone’s socks off.

The Smooth Operator sounds good. Everyone shuts up and listens. They even get requests.

The Screecher means well. They’re enthusiastic. They put on their song and belt it out. They mistake volume for skill. This is a good time to go to the bathroom. If you can discreetly turn down their mic volume, by all means do it.

The Encroacher will pick up the other mic and join you in your song. Sometimes it’s good, mostly they just sing over you. I’m afraid I belong in this category. For the Encroacher, it’s a good way to increase singing time while not appearing to be a Speed Dialer.

The Premature Evacuator. Halfway through their song, they give up, and either hand the mic over to someone else to finish it or they stop the song.

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These are just caricatures of course. Most of us fall into several of these types at one time or another. Most people have decent voices and pick interesting songs. To maximize your karaoke experience, I like to follow these guidelines:

• Put in one song at a time. Two max.

• Sing a few songs you’ve never tried before.

• Every now and then include songs that everyone knows and can join in on

• Sing duets with people you’ve never sung with.

• And most importantly, sing your heart out and always applaud after every song.