Portrait Spotlight #2: Hiromichi Marui

Meet Hiromichi Marui.
Age: 32. Occupation: proud owner of the Ise Kazami Guesthouse, probably the one and only hostel in Ise-shi, Mie.

 

Earlier last weekend my friends and I traveled to Ise and stayed at Kazami Guesthouse, located close to the station on a quiet street (Fukiage) which is dotted with various small boutiques and thrift shops. We were greeted personally by Marui-san (who likes to go by Hiro, so I will go with Hiro-san for this blog) the moment we stepped through the doors.

   

As soon as we entered I was immediately struck by Hiro-san's blend of ethnic-alternative fashion taste. I was equally taken by the friendly and earthy atmosphere of the hostel. I decided to ask if it was ok for me to interview him for the blog and take a few pictures,which he was more than happy to help with.

It turns out that the hostel had just been purchased, renovated, and opened by Hiro-san only five months ago. Before that the building was the site of an old, rundown ryokan that was suffering from various water damage and sewer problems. When I asked Hiro-san what made him want to buy and start a  hostel business, he said that he simply wanted to create a warm, cafe-like environment where travelers to Ise from all over could gather and share their experiences together. Being a local native from Ise himself, he thought that transforming the old ryokan eyesore into a new, livelier place was a good way to help improve the image of the neighborhood.  Hiro-san said that he hopes he will be able to make many friends from all around the world at the hostel, because one of his life goals is to travel to many different countries one day.

The instruments in the corner of the lounge (drum, guitar, and sanshin) reflect Hiro-san's own musical background as he used to be in a punk-rock band. Before that, Hiro-san worked as an AC technician (a job he thought he was very bad at!)

 

 

Together with some artist friends who helped paint the many interesting and beautiful murals that decorate the inside of hostel, Hiro-kun was able to fix up and open Kazami. Also there that day was one of his friends, a recent Princeton graduate from India who drops by and helps volunteer at the hostel  when he's not busy with his job at the municipal government office. In the meantime, small repairs like fixing the column and sweeping the floors in the morning are still dutifully done by Hiro-san personally.

 

Making friends on facebook

 

In the evenings, Hiro-san loves to socialize with his guests with a round of drinks in the lounge, or just take everyone out for a midnight hike up the mountains from some stargazing (we were all too tired, so had to decline). When I asked how he spoke English so well, Hiro-san admitted that he learned it entirely through playing Nintendo games. For now, English is the only foreign language Hiro-san knows although Hiro-san says he would love to learn others. 

Proud owner and business

Was offered to stay and work as a staff!

I loved being able to speak with Hiro-san, and loved how he was able to incorporate his globe-treading dreams into his hostel.  I will be sure to visit again whenever I return to Ise!

What do Japanese People Do? Go to sporting events

Last month I had the opportunity to attend the second-to-last-day of the Osaka Sumo Grand Tournaments.  Previous to this trip, my only exposure to sumo was probably just from the movie Memoirs of a Geisha (in that scene where Sayuri watches it and gives some extended metaphor about strength and blablabla). Can't mention sumo warriors without geishas? How typical. I think coming from the States with an outsiders view of Sumo it was hard for me to think of it beyond some sort of elaborate, mystical and strange shinto ritual involving fleshy, scantily-clad men and more as a sport. I certainly wasn't really expecting to enjoy it like I would watching football and basketball back home as I was going at the time mainly for the "cultural exposure."

Boy was I wrong.

And boy is it a SPORT.

 

If anything, the Japanese audience sure treated it like one. People ate in the stands, left to go to the restrooms and returned in the middle of matches, and cute snack-vendor girls ran up and down the seats hawking their food to hungry viewers. Sake was openly served and consumed. The whole arena buzzed with excitement like in any sporting event and had none of the quite, polite, and constrained "Japanese" enthusiasm that I thought I would find there instead.

 

Towards the later matches in the day with the higher-ranking wrestlers, more and more people began to show up and the stands began to get packed. At the end, the stands were completely sold out. Viewers of both genders and all age groups were present, and I saw that even small toddlers were watching the matches as intently as the adults. There were many foreigners there as well, including some, that I overheard talking, who kept up with the scores and "stats" of each wrestler. A particular Japanese attendee next to me, a young man who looked to be in high school, even had  a score keeper which he avidly circled and marked after every match.

 

Most surprising of all perhaps was the yelling that came from all around the stadium. Single fans or entire cheering squads of guys or girls would wait for their favorite wrestler to appear and then give ear-piercing screams of 'gambarrrree!' or the yell the wrestler's name as encouragement. This also was acceptable to do during the middle of a match, when the wrestlers would grapple with each other in a deadlock. Publicly raising your voice to that level is probably something that you don't find in Japan except at a sporting event like this. On a side note, interestingly enough, while there were many times when the entire audience would break out in applause for a good match between the Japanese sumos, only one out of the several foreign sumo wrestlers that day received a smattering round of 'good effort' applause after his match.

And certainly all the shinto ritual elements were there, such as the making of the stage, the priests' blessings and the throwing of the salt before each match. But really, from the atmosphere, people were there to see cool throws and bodies fly.  Most of the bathroom breaks in the audience seemed to coincide during the middle of all the shinto practices between matches.

In the box seats, people sat in groups of friends, or family members, and many women wore traditional yukatas. The best-dressed and most serious attendees occupied the most expensive, ring-side seats. Treating it like a sporting event and sitting as close to the action as possible, despite the sweat-flying, body throwing goodness of the stage side seating was one of the amusements of the day. (I did see a few well-dressed attendees and their escorts getting squished by an unfortunate flying wrester as he fell off the stage).
    

If you're interesting in having a fantastic, sporting-event time like I did, please visit the The Official Grand Sumo home page for more info on where the next tournament is: http://www.sumo.or.jp/eng/

Portrait of a Nihonjin: 中村拓 さん

I met 中村拓 さん by chance earlier today as I was crossing the bridge on my way to Hirakata station. I have crossed the bridge many times over the semester but have never really paid attention to who was selling goods from the small moped stand before because I'm usually always in a hurry.

 

 However, today as I stopped to snap a picture of the river from the bridge I noticed 中村拓 さん's friendly and lighthearted demeanor. Even though it was cold and windy, and there were not many potential customers coming up the bridge at the time, 中村拓 さん was always smiling cheerfully. I also noticed that he was young, around my age, so I was wondering what kinds of good he was selling in the covered moped. I hoped that because he was just waiting and not too busy at the time, meant that he was more approachable as a photo subject.

It took a while (I shuffled around some benches pretending to take pictures of the scenery as I waited for him to finish with a group of obaasan customers) but I finally got up the courage to go up and talk to him. First I introduced myself and explained that I was doing this anthropology photo blog project for class. It was my first time trying to hold a conversation with a complete stranger in japanese so I was a little nervous, but he listened very patiently. He was very interested to hear that I was a Gaidaisei and we talked a little about where I was from and what classes I was taking.

When I asked to take some portraits of him, he immediately agreed, saying I should take as many as I wanted. Unfortunately, my camera batteries cut out at this point, so I was only able to squeeze a few shots in. Afterwards I asked him to kindly write down his name in Kanji so I could put it with this  blog and to show me what he was selling. To my surprise it was pastries (and not seafood as I had previously thought). I learned that this was just 中村拓 さん's part time job.

To be polite I selected a Dragonball Z cookie to buy, but 中村拓 さん promptly offered me a discount off of the written price.

It was only later that I realized how much more about 中村拓 さん I should found out, such as his age, hometown, how long he had been doing this job, etc. I think a combination of the camera battery problems and speaking to a stranger in japanese made me pretty flustered and I forgot most of my questions. However this was definitely a good first time experience with approaching unknown subjects directly and I learned a lot from my mistakes. If I ever see 中村拓 さん again on the bridge I'll be sure to say hi and make up the missing information here~

Hirakata Play Spaces

Continuing my trend of examining sterotypes of this "well labled society"....


Overseas Japan is often portrayed as "an aging society" in the news and media. Even a quick search of 'Japan' on major news websites like BBC will probably turn up many articles, both old and recent, on the subject of age imbalance in the Japanese population. Somehow the mental image left behind of Japanese communities by this sort of media focus is that of a staggering pyramid of pruny old men and women being supported by the rare few karaoke-loving, manga-totting youngsters still lucky enough to be born.


In actuality, living here in the residential neighborhood of Hirakata 枚方市 allows you to see both sides of the coin, so to speak. As expected, the elderly population around the neighborhood is truly abundant in a Japanese way, and they make their presence known by leading incredibly active lives. On any given day, Katahoko Park is bound to be filled with springy grannies speed-walking and grandpas walking their akitas. On the other hand, while the data certainly supports the evidence of major declines in birth rates in Japan, children are also far from being absent in the community.


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”ねこのつもり”

Everywhere scattered around the neighborhood are parks and small playgrounds ready to be used by supposedly disappearing local youth population....And they are quite well used play areas, as I discovered when I visited one such park near the river and Seminar House IV.

Older and younger kids mingle and play.

   

  Perhaps it was the weather but the park was bustling with children of all ages and both genders, eagerly engaged in games of soccer, tag, or just hanging around like one of the “cool” kids. The area was noisy, like a proper playground. Kids yelled, pushed, and climbed trees or just sat and chatted with friends. One brick wall is filled with scribbled graffiti and cute cartoons. It seems like the play spaces is it's own area where kids can feel safe and free to express themselves outside of strict societal rules. 

Moreover, apart from an old man walking his dog and an attentive mother watching her toddler, adults were entirely absent from the space. In no way could you feel the stagnant and tired society that Japan is often portrayed as.

The energy of youth.

Whether at the park, or down unexpected staircases to the river, the play spaces of Hirakata add a touch of liveliness to this gray, compact neighborhood area.

Kids and a dog walker explore the river bed.

Young and independent...the future of Japan.

Welcome to Japan: First Impressions

Ah Japan, the land of the rising sun. A far eastern island where all the women dress like Geishas, all the men mumble bushido in their sleep and ninjas dance across rooftops at night.

No, what? Honestly?

My pre-arrival impression of Japan was certainly significantly less mystical than those stereotypical images...images that seem to permeate every travel guides and 'culture video' about this vibrant and metropolitan country. Upon arrival in Hirakata my suspicions were confirmed: no ninjas (they must be hiding), no samurais downtown brandishing katanas and the only Geishas I've seen are the sparse few who disappear into the crowds of historical Kyoto during festivals like the setsubun. Likewise, the majority of the native urbanites I've observed are more concerned about getting to work on time or where to find the next biggest デパート (department store) sale than "getting in touch with their sacred history." Rather than mystical and focused on the past, the urban/suburban Japanese environment around the Hirakata-shi area during the day appears to be very fast-paced and modern just like urban areas in the States. 

On the other hand, the urban culture in Japan appears to be construed with paradoxes and unexpected practices. For one thing, during daytime Japanese cities appears to be unbelievably "safe.” Umbrellas and personal belongings left on bicycles at any street corner are left untouched. Elementary school kids walk to school and back alone during rush hour when the station is jam-packed with busy adults. And yet, as my Japanese friend pointed out to me, right around the corner from the main station exits is a gogo club and brothel neatly tucked into a street full of popular restaurants. As of now, I can only react by hypothesizing that this odd zoning speaks volumes on the Japanese view of sexuality and it's place in society among daily necessities. 

A busy street behind Hirakata-shi station filled with crowded restaurants.

A bouncer lurks at the entrance of this "red-light" building complex. (Across the street from previous photo).

As the store lights go off  and the metal doors are locked down the station presents a new face: quiet, deserted and, perhaps, somewhat sinister. Two policeman question a shifty bike rider by a familymart. A fortune teller huddles under the stairs, ready to dish-out some questionable late night readings. Across the street in the shadows of a subway exit an old, homeless man leans against the steps and looks on smoking casually .

The station at night.

Visiting Hirakata-shi station both during the daytime and witnessing it after nine pm gave me some conflicting impressions of the normally "safe and polite" Japanese society. 

No, Toto, we're certainly not in Kansas anymore (or Florida for the matter). But then, it's not as if I have come to Mars either. My first impressions of Japan strikes a balance between the strange and familiar. So far, I have only been here for two weeks and I'm convinced that with a little more courage (in approaching subjects for photos) and with some extra digging I'll be able to figure out exactly what to make of the urban lifestyle of the modern Japanese.