What if Manga were real?

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The Japanese and Ecology - a contradictory tale of mind-bending lunacy.

The cultural and historical wealth of Kyoto spared it during WWII, not just from firebombing, but also from a nuclear attack. With such a background of preservation, it's fitting that the treaty which bears the city's name should have been negotiated there. Of course, the existence of the Kyoto Protocol doesn't represent an immediate change in behaviour in the country of its birth, but there is an awareness, albeit one with a slight limp.

In an effort to keep up with the rest of the world, during the Meiji period, Japan industrialised with alarming rapidity. Today, although it's roughly the same size as the UK, Japan produces more carbon emissions per capita than Britain, however things are apparently much better in Kawasaki now then they were in the '70's, when acid rain was a frequent problem. Walking by the heavily industrial docks in the bay, one can imagine what it must have been like before environmental issues were taken seriously.

Waste disposable in Japan is a pernickety, but necessary affair, requiring one to separate combustible from non-combustible waste. All well & good, but the amount of unnecessary non-combustible waste produced is staggering. I'm inspired to write this because a bottle of ketchup I bought came in a plastic pouch, and this isn't an isolated incident. Many products you buy in Japan come with layer upon layer of plastic wrapping. You will automatically be given a plastic bag for the smallest item you buy, regardless of how many others you might be carrying.

For a country with little in the way of natural resources, the consumption is huge. Once was enough, but the amount of times I've walked past a stationary car with the engine running and a man asleep at the wheel has me fuming. My first trip to Shinjuku had me agog at the thought of how much electricity the place must use in one night, but that pales into comparison next to waribashi, or disposable chopsticks.

Every year, Japan uses some 25 billion pairs of waribashi. Originally they were manufactured by Japanese companies until the '80's, when a joint Japan-China venture managed to produce them at a lower cost. Today, 97% of waribashi come from China. Recently however, China has imposed a 5% tax on chopsticks in an effort to curb de-forestation. If that wasn't enough, chopstick exporters have responded to that move by placing a 30% increase on their prices, a planned additional 20% currently pending. China is even making noises about completely stopping waribashi exports as early as 2008.

Ichiro Fukuoka, director of Japan Chopsticks Import Association, has said
"We're not in an emergency situation yet, but there has been some impact."
Alternative sources are being looked at, such as bamboo (which grows vigorously) or other suppliers of wood such as Vietnam, Indonesia and Russia. The obvious solution, to me at any rate, is to dismiss disposable chopsticks altogether, buy enough re-useable pairs for the amount of customers an establishment expects of an evening and wash the buggers.

Mayumi Ito, a spokeswoman for Seven & I Holdings Co., owner of 7-Eleven convenience stores has commented that
"We provide chopsticks only to customers who ask for them." I would like to categorically state that that is utter codswallop.

Due to the uncompromising Japanese climate, with periods of intense humidity, it was common for temples to be completely re-built every year, as the original structures would gradually decay. Naturally, this practice is rare in today's environmentally conscious age, although the Grand Ise Shrine in Mie prefecture still enjoys this makeover once every twenty years. Although Shinto places a great deal of emphasis on living in harmony with nature, there are still many renewal and purification rituals that take their toll on resources such as water and wood.

On a microcosmic level, I can see this behaviour in the students. If I point out a spelling mistake of a single letter or period, the entire sentence will be erased and begun afresh. Whether this is representative of a broader Japanese attitude or just teenage procrastination is anybodies guess.

Taikusai

Last weekend was to have been a sports day extravaganza, but the elements didn't agree. This led to a long series of re-scheduling plans, ending in a mid-week sports fest and two teaching-free days for myself. Hurrah indeed.

I only saw the afternoon events, starting with Shougaibutsu, a comedy relay race, reminiscent of It's a Knockout or Takeshi's Castle. Being the resident English monkey, I was asked to start the race in English. I was accompanied by one of the teachers acting as a translator, "on your marks, get set..." being incomprehensible to the sensitive Japanese ear. I feel that my companion was a bit superfluous, as I was provided with a starting pistol, which strikes me as a pretty universal signal to run.

Anyway, the Shougaibutsu was a riot. Each runner had their own obstacle; bursting balloons by sitting on them, crawling through a net, carrying a ball with a partner (back to back), balancing a tennis ball on a paddle, finding an unspecified object in a bucket of flour (using ones face) and completeing the last leg after spinning ten times around a baseball bat. This veritable ballet unfolded to a "comedy" ska soundtrack, blaring through a sizeable speaker system & reminding me that Japan has nothing in the way of noise pollution laws.

Other notable races included the Mukade, or centipede race, where a line of five students with their ankles tied together march up to two more lines, creating the titular insect, with hilarious results. Then there was the Kibasen, the "horse war". Basically three students form a human horse, whilst another stands on their hands & shoulders, and tries to knock over their opponent (on another human horse) - it's insanely exciting, and is only made more so by the chanting, clapping and frenzied Taiko banging. A teacher that I don't have the best relationship with remarked "Igirisu ja nai, ne?" (you don't have this in England, do you?) "Made in Japan". This comment awoke my inner arse, as I silently fumed "I bet that it's from China, or Mongolia or anywhere in Asia other than Japan, you arrogant little *@#^!" (can you spot a certain beligerence in this weeks entry?) All I've been able to find out so far is that the game may have its roots in Hindu mythology...watch this space...

Maybe the most Japanese thing I saw that day was the eight-hundred metres. One girl in particular was weeping openly and limping in an unsettling fashion before she started. She spoke to her teacher, who merely patted her on the back with a hearty "Gambatte! (keep your spirits up) before plonking her onto the front line. She looked frankly terrified before she started running, and she didn't stop crying. The pistol went off, as did the students. Naturally, she lagged behind, and I watched in horror, thinking "why the hell is she running on that leg?". As the race finished, some students collapsed in tears and exhaustion. The girl I had noticed at the start finished last, but now she wasn't crying. She ran the entire race. I was in absolute awe, but slightly disturbed and confused at the same time. Was it better to have been pushed into finishing a race (through peer pressure or old fashioned authority) with a wonky leg, or to rest and not run? Chariots of Fire has never seemed so appropriate as it did then.

So anyway, this weekend, we've been graced with not one, but three festivals...

...the Design Festa








Those gentlemen were very heavy indeed.


...Oda Matsuri...






...and the legendary Sanja Matsuri...






...and I still have no idea what it's about.

Nikko

In the words of these hearty fellows, click pictures for bigitude!


By thunder, it's difficult to know where to begin...Nikko is a small city north of Tokyo, rich in history and photo-potential. It has a sacred pedigree stretching back to the 8th century, when the priest Shodo Shonin, credited with introducing Buddhism to Japan, founded a number of Temples that bear the name Rinnoji. A legend about him crossing the river Daiyo, borne by no less than two giant serpents, resulted in the construction of Shin-kyo Bashi, the Sacred Bridge. 500 yen to cross...we thought it better just to take pictures.


And yes, this is going to be a "look at my holiday photos!" entry. I make no apology. Below is one of the aforementioned Rinnoji Temples, this one housing three gigantic golden Buddhas (photography is apparently forbidden), themselves considered manifestations of regional Kami.


A momentary break from Temples brought us up a very windy mountain road to a stunning view of Lake Chuzenji and the Kegon waterfall, thus...


...it cleared up later, allowing me to take THIS.


So anyway, back to Temples...after being established as a training ground for Buddhism, Nikko declined into obscurity for a bit, until it was chosen as the site for the mausoleum of Ieyasu, the founder of the Tokugawa Shogunate. It took some 15,000 craftsmen & artisans two years to create the shrine where the famous warlord rests. The style of the place doesn't conform to the Japanese "less is more" ethic, and as a result, it's received some mixed reviews...but I like it.






The place defies my puny mortal efforts to photograph it.






What's amusing (to me at any rate) is that the most famous icon to be associated with this Temple isn't the immensely significant historical character, rather, it's three monkeys.


Yes indeed, this is where the little blighters come from - a mural on one of the buildings depicting the life cycle of the monkey. Souvenier shops abound with the timeless trio, but I didn't buy one, as the damn things are so ubiquitous.

A quieter end of Nikko, merely ten minutes walk from our lovely hotel, is the Gamman-ga-fuchi Abyss, much less threatening than its name suggests.




Running along the course of the Daiyo river is a row of statues depicting Jizo, the patron deity of deceased children. Photo below courtesy of Hayley.


One of the statues midway is called the Bake-Jizo, so called because it mocks travellers who try to count the allegedly uncountable Jizos. I counted roughly seventy-four, my confusion itself seeming to tease me. There were a couple of plinths that, although weren't bearing statues, still had the distinctive red bibs I've seen on many a Buddha whilst here. What denoted a Jizo? What is the real difference between a Buddha and a pile of rocks? That's Zen for you I suppose.

How Golden was my Week?

Pretty damn, thank you very much. My five day weekend started with a special enkai, one where new teachers are welcomed, and those that depart are given a hearty sayonara...with lots of alcohol.

Definitely my most regimented enkai, divided into sections to accommodate speeches and socialising. The latter had me remembering that Japan is a very conservative country, and that my tongue, once lubricated with beer, is capable of slobbering over some very sensitive issues, not least of all, the fictional character Yasunori Kato (from the epic Teito Monogatari, adapted into the manga Doomed Megalopolis), a powerful wizard intent on destroying Tokyo. The notion that a Japanese might want to raze the capital puzzled, and might even have offended those encountering my enthusiasm for the first time. Thankfully, the atmosphere was saved by the scheduled rendition of the school anthem (all three verses). The stage was then set for a rapid descent into karaoke.

My attempt to sing a song in Japanese was described as "funny". However, the new Kyoto sensei, looking like he had just stepped out of the shower into his suit & singing "Born to be Wild" in the manner you imagine every drunken Japanese man at karaoke, was equally hilarious to me and worthy of a hearty guffaw. That was a pleasure I saved until later, as my rank at school is roughly equal to that of the stationary cupboard.

Only Hayley can testify as to my state when I got home. Needless to say, I was useless the next day.


Once I'd recovered, we took full advantage of the holiday by venturing out to Daiyuzan in Minami-ashigara, where life moves at a somewhat gentler pace. The plan was to see Daiyuzan Saijoji, third highest ranking Temple of the Soto Buddhist sect. This idea was crushed by the colossal distance we had to walk, and the irregularity of mountain buses. We did however, manage to take in the Sunset Waterfall, where the legendary Kintaro bathed as a child.



As fortune would have it, we arrived the day before Boys Day, the last holiday of Golden Week, when parents erect samurai dolls and fly carp streamers to pray for the future success of their sons. The tale of the wild boy, Kintaro, appointed by the ancestor of the first shogun, Yorimitsu Minamoto because of his absurd strength, is quite resonant at this time of year, especially in the mountains where he wrestled bears. Koi were out in force.


...and that's not all...not by a long shot...Hayley and I went to Nikko last weekend. That's an entry in of itself, and there will be pictures...