First impressions of Japan
I was unprepared for how beautiful Tokyo would be.
We took a bus from Narita Airport to our hotel in Shinjuku, where I was to meet my fellowship grantors and we were to spend one night, before I could move into my apartment. The drive was about two hours (Narita is actually about 40 miles east of Tokyo) through green green and more green. I had no idea it would be *so* green! I tried really really hard to stay awake the whole time, so I could thoroughly savor my first glimpse of Tokyo, but alas, long drives always lull me to sleep. Still, even if I had been awake, I'm not sure I could have really even *defined* my first glimpse of Tokyo. Even in the city there is lots of green, so it wasn't really clear when we crossed the threshold of Tokyo anyway. This may sound surprising, as one always hears about how everything in Japan is so cramped, but they really make the most of what little space they have, coaxing every last bit of love and energy from the earth. There might be a fence behind an apartment with what seems like barely enough room for one person to stand in between, yet often bamboo and other Japanese trees stretch over and above the fence.
After Texas, where land is so cheap that strip malls stand empty and unleased, after New York, where even the parks are paved, and after India, where they seem to destory everything they touch (hyperbole... but not by much), there was nothing in my experience to which I could compare it. The only American city I've been to that *might* give you a sense is Chicago, but the scale and aesthetic are so very different. Even the architecture. Chicago's famous for its architecture, right? Well maybe I just wasn't paying attention when I was there, because I don't remember being this impressed. Everything in Tokyo seems like some architect thought it was his big chance or his first chance or his last chance or... something. Unique, imaginative, gorgeous... It's no wonder that futuristic/cyber-punk/sci-fi movies like Blade Runner and The Fifth Element clearly draw from Asian inspiration.
And yet... I have yet to have an "Oh my god, I'm in Japan" moment, because somehow it's still very familiar. Though some things are delightfully exotic (the flora, the street signs, the glove-wearing bus drivers and full-suited cabbies), while we were in Tokyo-proper, I more often than not noted the similarities between it and New York. They've had to deal with similar space restrictions, crowding, commuting. There are entire streets dedicated to wholesale restaurant supplies (Kappa-bashi), including plastic models of food (apparently a major tourist attraction/souvenir but very expensive), inexpensive electronic goods (Akihabara), everything required to keep a metropolis functioning. Everyone's well-dressed and/or fashionable. Everyone's got places to go and things to do. I don't want to say it's *just* a city, because, I mean, well New York isn't *just* a city, but... it's something like that. I don't know what I was expecting. I don't think I had anything in mind, really, but... I didn't expect to feel so at home so soon.
Maybe what adds to the comfortable feeling is the people. They are *nothing* like New Yorkers. In fact I have never met more helpful and accommodating people. They may not smile at strangers while walking down the street but, unlike in New York where they don't smile with an air of "I'm too busy/good for you," it seems to be because they're too shy or afraid to offend. If you do stop them to ask for help, even if they're in a rush (which of course many of them are), they will do their very best to communicate what needs to be done. One bus driver even got out of his bus to walk my dad and me to the correct bus stop. And while we're talking about Japanese behaviour, my dad was amazed when one morning he went to the local McDonald's (it was the only thing open when he woke up at 6am) for breakfast, a hat was sitting on one of the tables. He sat there and ate his breakfast, as did everyone else in the restaurant, and watched people come and go. And still the hat was sitting on the table. No one touched it. Until some time later, a little old woman came in, saw her hat and retrieved it.
It's amazing that Japan is just like you've heard, even in (inconceivable to Americans) ways like that. NYTimes op-ed columnist Kristof mentioned, after Katrina, that in his time in Kobe after the 1995 earthquake, he found only one man who had seen only three looters... none of whom were Japanese.
Did I mention that I love it so far? The little old men wear fishing hats and the women carry umbrellas in the summer sun, just like I expected/wanted. Little round-faced boys wear suspenders and hats with chin-straps to school. A volunteer from ICU came to my door selling Hello, Kitty paraphernalia to support Cambodian amputees. Everyone on the train last weekend seemed to be carrying a violin case. There's a ramen shop on every corner and an amazing abundance of hair salons/beauty parlors/barber shops. The danger signs sport cute little cartoon animals; the vending machine buttons light up prettily even when you're not buying anything (and apparently there are some that even talk to you... in the local dialect!)...
And all that just from a week in Mitaka (and a couple days in Shinjuku). I don't really have any money right now, so I'm probably not going to do much travelling just yet. With what I have, I first need to buy all my school supplies and a few more things for my apartment, so you'll have to wait to hear about things like Shibuya and Harajuku and various tourist attractions.
We took a bus from Narita Airport to our hotel in Shinjuku, where I was to meet my fellowship grantors and we were to spend one night, before I could move into my apartment. The drive was about two hours (Narita is actually about 40 miles east of Tokyo) through green green and more green. I had no idea it would be *so* green! I tried really really hard to stay awake the whole time, so I could thoroughly savor my first glimpse of Tokyo, but alas, long drives always lull me to sleep. Still, even if I had been awake, I'm not sure I could have really even *defined* my first glimpse of Tokyo. Even in the city there is lots of green, so it wasn't really clear when we crossed the threshold of Tokyo anyway. This may sound surprising, as one always hears about how everything in Japan is so cramped, but they really make the most of what little space they have, coaxing every last bit of love and energy from the earth. There might be a fence behind an apartment with what seems like barely enough room for one person to stand in between, yet often bamboo and other Japanese trees stretch over and above the fence.
After Texas, where land is so cheap that strip malls stand empty and unleased, after New York, where even the parks are paved, and after India, where they seem to destory everything they touch (hyperbole... but not by much), there was nothing in my experience to which I could compare it. The only American city I've been to that *might* give you a sense is Chicago, but the scale and aesthetic are so very different. Even the architecture. Chicago's famous for its architecture, right? Well maybe I just wasn't paying attention when I was there, because I don't remember being this impressed. Everything in Tokyo seems like some architect thought it was his big chance or his first chance or his last chance or... something. Unique, imaginative, gorgeous... It's no wonder that futuristic/cyber-punk/sci-fi movies like Blade Runner and The Fifth Element clearly draw from Asian inspiration.
And yet... I have yet to have an "Oh my god, I'm in Japan" moment, because somehow it's still very familiar. Though some things are delightfully exotic (the flora, the street signs, the glove-wearing bus drivers and full-suited cabbies), while we were in Tokyo-proper, I more often than not noted the similarities between it and New York. They've had to deal with similar space restrictions, crowding, commuting. There are entire streets dedicated to wholesale restaurant supplies (Kappa-bashi), including plastic models of food (apparently a major tourist attraction/souvenir but very expensive), inexpensive electronic goods (Akihabara), everything required to keep a metropolis functioning. Everyone's well-dressed and/or fashionable. Everyone's got places to go and things to do. I don't want to say it's *just* a city, because, I mean, well New York isn't *just* a city, but... it's something like that. I don't know what I was expecting. I don't think I had anything in mind, really, but... I didn't expect to feel so at home so soon.
Maybe what adds to the comfortable feeling is the people. They are *nothing* like New Yorkers. In fact I have never met more helpful and accommodating people. They may not smile at strangers while walking down the street but, unlike in New York where they don't smile with an air of "I'm too busy/good for you," it seems to be because they're too shy or afraid to offend. If you do stop them to ask for help, even if they're in a rush (which of course many of them are), they will do their very best to communicate what needs to be done. One bus driver even got out of his bus to walk my dad and me to the correct bus stop. And while we're talking about Japanese behaviour, my dad was amazed when one morning he went to the local McDonald's (it was the only thing open when he woke up at 6am) for breakfast, a hat was sitting on one of the tables. He sat there and ate his breakfast, as did everyone else in the restaurant, and watched people come and go. And still the hat was sitting on the table. No one touched it. Until some time later, a little old woman came in, saw her hat and retrieved it.
It's amazing that Japan is just like you've heard, even in (inconceivable to Americans) ways like that. NYTimes op-ed columnist Kristof mentioned, after Katrina, that in his time in Kobe after the 1995 earthquake, he found only one man who had seen only three looters... none of whom were Japanese.
Did I mention that I love it so far? The little old men wear fishing hats and the women carry umbrellas in the summer sun, just like I expected/wanted. Little round-faced boys wear suspenders and hats with chin-straps to school. A volunteer from ICU came to my door selling Hello, Kitty paraphernalia to support Cambodian amputees. Everyone on the train last weekend seemed to be carrying a violin case. There's a ramen shop on every corner and an amazing abundance of hair salons/beauty parlors/barber shops. The danger signs sport cute little cartoon animals; the vending machine buttons light up prettily even when you're not buying anything (and apparently there are some that even talk to you... in the local dialect!)...
And all that just from a week in Mitaka (and a couple days in Shinjuku). I don't really have any money right now, so I'm probably not going to do much travelling just yet. With what I have, I first need to buy all my school supplies and a few more things for my apartment, so you'll have to wait to hear about things like Shibuya and Harajuku and various tourist attractions.
posted by Bibhatsu at 07:39
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