Conform or perish

The local daily 'The Daily Yomiuri' reported an incident yesterday of a 30 year old JR Tokai(Japan Railways) employee who killed himself in the path of a shinkansen (bullet train) bound for Shin-Osaka. The incident obviously caused much disruption to shinkansen lines, forcing passengers to spend the night in the trains (quickly termed as 'train hotels' by authorities). Woe the inconvenience.

A 'normal' incident so far with all its connotations of urban angst.But the clincher really was the statement issued by a JR spokesman (the dead man's employers) the next day. The company spokesperson issued an apology (or their idea of it). And I quote - " It is inexusable (behaviour) for a person who works for the railway and we'd like to apologise to anyone inconvenienced by this accident". Not a word of regret about the tragic death of a man who was till then a part of their 'family'.

To me, it was the ultimate summation of the notorious Japanese neurosis about conformity and perfection- the much thrashed/talked about/debated/analysed undercurrent that seems to run beneath much of Japanese society.Better to stay with the group than freely express and be out-of-step.Tomes have been written about a culture's obsession with conformity. The very reason, it is said , that Japan rose from the ashes of WW II to become an economic superpower.

Tokyo's crowded downtown throbs with a subtle edginess that is neither seen nor spoken.Men in black suits, women in stilettos seem to march to a tune singed in their psyche.Have to get to work on time. No room for error.

I have heard friends (foreigners like me) say that Tokyo seems noiseless- silent. It is. And neat,civil and orderly. No unwanted decibels, barring the incessant cackle of psychedelic neon boards.... or..

..the scream of ambulance sirens rending through the downtown air, as if heralding yet another victim of the city's neurosis. It could well be Tokyo's refrain. Clues to a frenzy that is otherwise well contained.On a tight leash. Maybe I'm imagining.

Or...the slow throbbing menace of a million red lights in the night, atop Tokyo's skyscrapers (watch the movie Babel). The view from the top is of a Star Wars city - only driven by a rumbling manic tension - deep down - much like its own earthquakes.

If anyone had doubts, the suicide incident (and the statement later) seemed to flash the dire message , clear. No sympathy for the one who messes with the good of the pack. 'The nail that sticks out gets pounded', warns a Japanese proverb.

In this case, no moving dirges for the dead man. Just a reprimand that follows him right upto heaven along with his secret sorrow.

This is the land where there is a word for 'death by overwork'. It is 'karoshi'.

PS: Two recent movies Hollywood movies- 'Lost in Translation' and 'Babel' -pretty much capture Tokyo's manic tension. Catch them if you havent.

That light feeling

This year I am savouring summer like never before. Its dawning on me what a beautiful season it is. Incredibly liberating and the light feeling hasnt left me. Funny - living in places with perennial summers (Mumbai,Singapore..) one just misses this small joyous fact.

For all those inveterate tropical animals - like me - yes you can survive winters (like I did).No, you dont necessarily die/get frost-bitten/suffer hypothermia in the cold (yes even in temperatures below 25 C).And the temperature setting is normally less than in Great World City (mall in Singapore) and no you cant turn it up when you want to. And yes you can get spoilt by it all if you arent careful.

So I survived a winter and am actually reminiscing fondly about its joys (who would have thought). I do miss the long winter walks when I could walk for hours without panting like a Retriever. After walking a while the warm rush of body heat from within made for a neat inbuilt body warmer.

I miss those nippy winter mornings ,bright blue skies and a bright sun lightly toasting your skin (ah bless the Tokyo weather).I miss the excitement of predicting the turn of seasons - spotting the first yellow leaf or the first sakura bud (or read about it in the mornings newspaper)...

Before it sounds all wrong I have to say this...I am still glad, very glad its summer.

I like the feel of cool cotton against my skin again.

I like the feel of the breeze through my open window and the sound of rustling white curtains...

I like not walking around like a shapeless ball of wool (all those layers) weighing a ton (not having learnt the Japanese art of winter chic yet).No wonder I feel lighter.

I like the fact that I can walk out of the house in a lark with just one layer of clothing and my house keys. No more endless dilemnas (everytime) about what to wear and how many - gloves-no gloves, thermals or plain cardigan or fleece.Or all. Neck warmer or cap.Or both. Heck going out should be a hop, step and out and on your own terms.

Its nice to have your feet aired in open toed sandals...and no socks. Freedom.

Its a happy feeling hearing birds sing song-ing in fresh green leafy trees. Goodbye to lonely stick trees sadly reaching out...

No more darkness at five in the evening and six pm seeming like mid night.Thank God. What a weird feeling that.

Am I imagining it or do people around me actually look happier and 'free' this summer..like a burden just lifted off them..

Maybe its just the song in my heart that is making me see things..

Or the humidity.

Sayonara!

Galangal and a far off place

Started the summer by wiggling my toes a bit outside my small boundary in Tokyo. My fascination for the 'far off' suburbs has stayed on with me over the years. Those far off places on the fringes of the big bad city. 'Back- of-the- bandooks' to some cynics. Or 'The-Last-Train-Stop'.


When I recently read in a Tokyo daily an ad for a Thai vegetarian cooking class somewhere "in another prefecture" it had a dangerous ring to it (not the cooking).I liked.I responded.

I have loved the sound of 'prefectures' ever since I set foot in Japan.Ibaraki,Aomori,Gunma,Tochigi....I could well be reading music.

Who knows what mysteries these far off places hold ? Who are the people who live there?



In Hong Kong, the word 'New Territories' similarly stirred my inner 'qi' (chi). From where we stayed as tourists on Hong Kong island (ah the skyline) I had to get a whiff of the dangerous mainland air. I walked its teeming streets (check pic) full of strange sounds and sights - less Hong Kong more China. I understood fewer things there - but thats the whole point of these 'Last-Train-Stops'.

Meanwhile in Japan....my train reached the outskirts of Tokyo Prefecture, where I had to change subway lines to more exotic sounding ones
(Seibu Ikebukoro,Seibu Chichibu..). These lines figure on the fringes of the Tokyo Metro Subway map as thin lines- with a start but only a vague suggestion of an end, in small type, at a romantic sounding station.As if warning me that the journey's end may just be a concept.Who knows.


As the train surfaced from the deep bowels of Tokyo city, the landscape had changed. Tokyo's neurosis considerably ebbed,pulse dropped notches lower. Small houses with their own pocket sized gardens. Men in straw hats tending to small tracts of land (cabbage? spinach?). Mountains rising all around.Pastoral and all that. (Exhibit A: the naive goggling city bumpkin)


Two and a half hours later, I arrived in Koma, my destination in the Saitama Prefecture. I breathed the cool mountain air. Where are the people? The quiet station tucked away in the middle of nowhere could hardly mean serious business. Drivers probably dont even bother stopping here.



The quaint barn-like organic,vegetarian Alishan cafe and shop (venue of cooking class) sat calmly on the banks of the Koma River. May, the Thai chef - our teacher for the afternoon showed us the joys of Thai cooking to the strains of quaint Thai music in the background. One of those mildly disorienting experiences where in flashes I wasnt quite sure which part of the world I was in. Talks of galangal and lemon grass in the Kanto Plain to the strains of lilting South East Asian music and a Canadian exchange student by my side.



As the sun set on the quiet little town of Koma (a dog barking in the distance), my palate tingling with the taste of red chilly,lemon grass and of course galangal ,I headed back to the madness of Tokyo, like moth to a flame.My batteries needed recharging. I think I was wilting. Rural,pastoral is all fine for a day but I needed my crazy cocktail of city sounds. I am headed back to where I belong. Also my family (of scapegoats) await me and my newly honed Thai cooking skills...


PS: I love Thai food. If my journey to the end of the earth doesnt prove it what does.

Omoshiroi!

"Ame ga futeimasu" piped in the radio DJs voice over my car radio. I could see that.The wiper in front of me was swishing wildly.Whats more I realised I had understood every word of that sentence in Japanese. Made me think just how far I had come in almost a year of living in Tokyo. You might have guessed it meant 'Its raining".

I still remember the queasy feeling I had last year when it was time to pack up and leave Legoland Singapore. 3 parts excitement, 2 parts sadness and 2 parts fear made up the cocktail of surging emotions. This might be the exact feeling bungee jumpers get before jumping off the cliff (sadness at the possibility of not seeing loved ones ever again!). Japan was the Land of the Unknown, right up there on the map - strange language, alien culture where people bowed and wore kimonos and gosh no phone-in grocer who understands "nimbu" (lemon) and "dhaniya" (coriander)! Singapore was afterall the kind of place where you could curl up and sleep for the rest of your life. From where you have to be dragged out for a whiff of 'dangerous' air. And when you do- you have forgotten what a challenge looks like. Challenge meter reading always : zero.

One year on and after my challenge meter has seen some vigorous activity (threatening to burn out a few times)-

I am no longer fazed by hearing a strange language and giving a go at speaking it.

I am ok with the feeling of being surrounded by a mass of swirls, strokes and symbols saying important things I may or may not always understand. I can read two out of three Japanese scripts (hiragana and katakana- easy and phonetic) and can recognise roughly 50-60 'kanji' (Chinese charecters - of a total of some 5000! Now theres a start) . The latter is normally done easily by the child in me....oh its that symbol with a pointy hat and three sun rays which means 'switch on' or whatever. Ever tried learning something that is pictorial and can be understood without uttering it phonetically? As fun as kindergarten. And most times enough in Japan to figure if you are lost or are about to eat an eel.

I am ok with spending hours in a public place without exchanging a single conversation with the millions around me. And knowing that I may not be able to, even if I wanted to. Though I can now ask for things in a shop, direct a cab or tell someone I'm lost and if they can kindly tell me the way. And when they do I mostly understand what they are saying. And most importantly tell a waiter that I dont eat fish or meat and if theres is a vegetarian dish on the menu.

I (and family including my 11 year old) am comfortable walking miles and miles of subway, changing lines , after doing some complex plotting on the map of how to get from A TO B (via C,D and E).You see in the small island of Singapore one was never more than a direct 15 minute comfortable cab ride away (and the driver spoke the same language) or taking the subway meant hopping onto one of two lines (N-S, E-W - rarely the N-E) after being transported there by a few speedy escalators. In Tokyo subways often you got to do it the old fashioned way- climb up and down stairs on own two legs and walk miles and miles underground. No of lines? Go figure!

I am also comfortable with not hearing 'propah' subway names in clipped tones like 'Somerset' or 'City Hall' (Singapore).I am most at home listening to names like 'Kokkaigijudomae'!

I can now sanely process the endless zeros in Japanese money (5000, 10,000,20,000 yen....)

I no longer bother to shut cab doors (because they do on their own).

I guess I'm here to stay.

I could go on and on about the myths in my head I held sacred before Tokyo and how each one of them disappeared when challenged. One by one -popping into oblivion like soap bubbles.Tokyo questioned everything I believed in.Like speaking in complete correct sentences is necessary to human communication.That 3.30 pm could mean 3.29 or 3.31 pm (no it cant and it doesnt). Bills/bank statements are always in a language you understand.Paying 2 dollars for one capsicum is wrong.It made me realise there are other Planets man has discovered and life on those planets is really not bad!

Infact its utterly * 'omoshiroi'!!

(* interesting)

Driving 'shiving'...hai rabba!

Memories of my last driving test are hazy and may need some digital enhancement. I was 18, full of dreams , in a huge dusty Ambassador ( dic: mammoth extinct creature - one of only two brands of cars in India back then) on a dusty road, with a driving 'examiner' beside me just making sure I knew the difference between a cow and a human and didnt rear end either. Passed on both counts - have yellow frayed licence to prove it.

Cut to now....Japan and I am a Born Again Driver after a whole new experience of passing the Japanese drivers licence test. I can say this now with dignity in my voice but last week mention 'menkyo' (licence) and you might have lost my pulse...

This is how the rite of passage goes...

Step 1: (after skipping several micro steps before of paper work,a written exam and so on) Check alamanac and wend your way to 'Samezu' for your driving test - one of those Tokyo areas "that drain your spirit away".A place where wires, railway lines and metal consume you and you feel Doomsday is nigh.

Step 2: Once in the License building you sense it is going to be the Temple of Japanese Bureaucracy (and turns out to be). A buffet of counters and signs in Japanese - nothing in the decor even remotely calming (atleast in Singapore there was 'Mr Bean' on TV screens while you waited in plush carpeted interiors of Govt offices- reassuring you that there are bigger bumbling idiots than you!)

Step 3: Examiner in white and blue uniform gives unintelligible war cry - in Japanese - believed to be a call to herd into Room 1. Ah the comforts of a herd when you have no clue what is being said! FYI- this is an all 'gaijin' (foreigner) herd - there to convert foreign licences. So collective Japanese vocabulary of group, on a good day, equal to - ten or less.

Step 4: More rapid fire commands - that noone understands again but - herd is getting smarter and just follows instinct by now. Collect order number and proceed to a small glass cabin outside overlooking the driving test course.Inside cabin, air redolent with fear, everyone furtively sizing everyone else yet feeling a common bond of 'we are all in it together'....

Step 5: Examiner,long pointer in hand earnestly (and politely of course) explains in loving detail - in pure Japanese- to a bunch of blinking gai-jins all there is to know about the course and its dos and donts. You think - they really want us to pass. Its the thought that counts.You are touched. Turns out that the language of driving is not that evolved and all it needs are basic sounds - hidari(left), migi (right), massugu (straight) and shingo (signal)...

Step 6: Alrighty. Vocabulary in place.One by one warriors take guard and zoom blithely around the deceptively simple course. Just one deadly S curve and a 'clank' ('crank' - 2 L's in a row) to really reckon with. But the way they all return - defeated with uncanny frequency - you wonder. Some who win (pass) yelp with joy and look at the fallen with pity. Some cry - probably not their first or last visit here.

Suffice to say the Japanese test is stringent and expects a tiny bit of perfection in your driving. Technique is paramount - no sloppy turns or chewing gums (yes).Folklore goes that noone passes at first attempt - but my dear husband did and that didnt go down very well with me (who failed).

I did get third time lucky - the first time the devil in white thought I didnt stop long enough at the blinking red 'shingo' and something about wide curves (not mine I'm sure), second time my quaking hands didnt make it past the S curve...

Now a proud owner of a Japanese licence I can tell you I am weighed down by the responsibility of it. I feel humbled.I drive one with the Road and its Rules - in sync with blind spots,yellow lines and deep lefts. The guys at 'Samezu Menkyo Shiken-jo' (Samezu Licence Test Centre) have tamed me and made me realise that there is driving (or 'averting disasters' as we are taught in India) and there is correct driving. They sure talk funny here...

Will think later about how to un-learn all this when back in India....

Miyako Odori - moving!

Remember 'Miyako Odori' ? And my parting promise that I might become friends with technology someday and get a video clip up and what not....

Well...after some tinkering (and many *$??# later) managed to get this bit of the geisha dance video up on the 'mother- of- all -blogs' - youtube...

Still dont know how to get it all fancily boxed on my blog...like a movie screen...but its a humble beginning....heres the link where you can watch all of 30 secs of the dance - grainy version..

ta da....

http://www.youtube.com/profile?user=preethyash

enjoy!

One, two...

Bright summer days are almost here in Tokyo. Sakuras have come and gone (check out some late pictures while you read), cold chilly temps are history, Tokyoiites are bundling up their well fitting winter jackets and opting for the light frilly look, the cicadas and birds are back and the trees look lush green and happy - no more spindly sticks reaching out to the skies. Also time to ruminate lazily on one of those inescapable Japanese truths...

In Japan I am learning that two trees are not quite the same as two books. Growing up as a mathemetically challenged kid (and never quite outgrowing it) little did I know that the spectre of numbers would come to haunt me again one day ! And in Japan the horror of numbers and numbering systems has caught up with me with darned venegence.The language of Japanese numbers can drive you insane sometimes.Read on...

Here I am at a flower shop wanting to ask the man for another stalk of flower (all I could afford looking at the price tags) and I begin to feel my brain quiver in its bony case,my lips purse, brows furrow...Thinking hard.The flower is long, but not cylindrical, not flat, but kind of not big nor small so then- is it 'ippon','hitotsu' or plain 'ichi'? Why is grass green? What is life? Who am I? What am I? Am I? URRRGH.. Existential questions.Momentary state of delirium/panic. Because,dahlings, all those words mean the number 1 in Japanese- but for different objects of different shapes! Ippon could be one tree, hitotsu would be a cup of coffee at Starbucks and ichi could be your door no. As many number names as things... Japanese forefathers clearly believed that making an already devilish thing (like 'rithmetic) even more wicked can only add spice to life! Any downsides to it? Nah. Except for obscure 'gai-jin's(foreigners - like me) tearing their hair over say, a stalk of dahlia...anyway...

The plot thickens when it comes to dates and days.The first of a month has a unique name (tsuitachi). Begin panic mode. After that its a variation of the hitotsu-futatsu counting system - futska(2nd) mikka (3rd)....so on. 4th of a month is yokka and 8th is yoka. Cruel illusion, I ask my Japanese sen-sei (teacher)? No she says looking at me pitifully- dont you see,the first one is yokka and the other one is yo- oka.Oh right I say scratching my head - all the time my Maths teacher's prophecies years ago ringing ominously true in my ears - 'you have no future with numbers'.

Try this if you want to navigate through the maze of Japanese 'counters' -

(Suffixes used depending on what you are counting )

-dai : machines,cars,bikes..
-mai- flat objecst like shopping bags,paper..
-hon: pens cigarettes,trees, long cylindrical objects
- hai: glasses and cups
- nin: people
- ko: fruit,cakes,eggs , small chunky objects
- satsu : books
- kai: floors (1st,2nd ..)

At the flower shop,by now managing to look calm and collected, I settle for a safe,general type "mo hitotsu kudasai"- one more (flower) please.Atleast I didnt splutter foolishly and the man did reach out for a stalk of dahlia....I must have done something right.

Since then my Japanese teacher has gently broken the news to me that animals,birds, squids(ah.to cry out loud) and horses all have different counters. I think I am safe for now. Atleast those dont figure too often on my shopping list!