Nihon News Part III
"We have been working hard and carefully, and work on."
In answer to my last letter, I received the complaint that none of my
letters dealt with what I was doing. That, besides being heartwarming,
is a good point, for reporting the "strangeness" of my host country was
indeed foremost in my mind. Therefore, in this letter I will recount my
experiences in Kanazawa and its surroundings.
However, before I do that, a quick recap. Not all of you know that I
came to Japan on a university-sponsored program comprising three months
of intensive language study and nine months of internship and training in
a Japanese company. This year there were three of us: Stefan Gächter,
Olivier Rumley, and I. Each stayed with a Japanese family in Kanazawa, I
with the Takatas. More than just cheap lodging, this arrangement allowed
us to immerse ourselves in one specific microcosm of Japanese culture.
During this stay, we took Japanese courses "under the auspices of the
Ishikawa Foundation for International Exchange," as is written on the
certificate we received upon completion of our studies.
Many of my activities in Kanazawa were planned by the IFIE, anxious that
we drink deep of the local culture. Often what we did was not as
interesting as the interaction between our Western individualism and the
Japanese approach. Our pottery teacher gave us rough directives and then
proceeded to philosophize on how our souls spoke to him out of something
that coming from the hands of a craftsman might have passed for art, but,
coming from ours, was an asymmetrical, overweight tea-bowl. Our Ikebana
teacher gave us rules and then proceeded to correct our arrangement if
our twigs differed by more than five percent from the required length or
by more than five degrees from the required inclination. Of course, I
thought pottery class was fun, but in order for Ikebana to be fun, I had
to stick the lower end of a lily stalk and the severed knotty part of a
twig behind my arrangement, just like young guys write "I was here" on
toilet stalls.
Other than pottery and Ikebana, we plated gold leaf, took part in a photo
workshop, created our own soapstone hanko seals, learned calligraphy,
played go, participated in a (shortened) tea ceremony and visited museums
and the crown of Kanazawa, the Kenrokuen.
The Kenrokuen is by public acclaim one of the most beautiful public
gardens in Japan. It is full of stone lanterns sitting next to silent
ponds and murmuring streams like old men weary from a heavy dinner, full
of footpaths carving calligraphy in the mossy forest floor, full of the
bright vigor of cherry blossoms and Japanese children. Despite the
latter, the Kenrokuen, large enough to offer refuge from the sun and the
Saturday crowd, exerted a calming influence on me, and even though the
Japanese concepts of aesthetics are foreign to me, I felt the awe that
arises within at every encounter with beauty. Faced with the skillful
combination of functionality, intricacy, simplicity and novelty, the only
proper response is admiration and the desire to create more beauty.
The other public parks pale in comparison, from the large central park to
the little green niches between or behind buildings that look like
inside-out bathrooms designed by Mario Botta, these niches a result of
anarchic urban planning I at first resented for being neither fully
Japanese nor fully Western, but later came to value for all the little
surprises it holds. (Indeed, it may be more Japanese than I initially
thought.)
The influence of Western culture is not limited to urban planning, but
extends even to the largest festival in Kanazawa, the Hyakumangoku
Matsuri. This festival commemorates the entrance of the feudal lord
Maeda into Kanazawa (his name means "in front of the rice field"), and is
held on the second June weekend. The Toro-Nagashi starts it off, painted
lanterns floating down the lazy Asano river on a balmy Friday evening,
drawing a respectable crowd. Even more line the streets the next day for
the big parade, although it is little more than a long string of marching
bands and baton twirlers, Kanazawa dressing up as Main Street, USA. The
acrobatic stunts of Kaga firemen atop bamboo ladders held upright by
their comrades, the lion dances preceded by distracted schoolchildren,
and the decked wagons where Japanese youth played shifts on taiko drums
were welcome exceptions. Saturday evening was completely Japanese,
however. To strands of "Houya ne, houya houya ne!" squeaked as barely
audible frequencies and amplified so as to become too audible, Kanazawa
danced. Clad in traditional garb or in kimonos sporting company logos,
countless groups swayed up and down a good five hundred meters of the
main drag. I, too, donned a Happi coat and, along with roughly fifty
other gaikokujin, chiefly Americans from the Princeton in Ishikawa (PII)
program, joined this two and a half hour ordeal. After the dance, in a
trancelike stupor with my ears still ringing from all the "houya ne," but
elated because the dance was over and our group had won first prize for
dancing (for no discernable reason), I let myself be talked into going to
a Mexican restaurant where on Saturdays they push the chairs to the walls
and drown out the air conditioning unit with loud salsa rhythms. Weary
and hot from dancing and a sunburn, I slept long and missed most of what
festivities there were the next day.
A fortnight later another weekend fell prey to cultural activities.
Together with the PII students we went on an IFIE-organized overnight
trip to the Noto Peninsula, the northern half of Ishikawa prefecture.
Accompanied by the Japanese pitter-patter of the tour guide's
explanations, we stopped at various attractions for just enough time to
get off the bus, take a quick look, perhaps buy a souvenir or an omiyage,
and get back on. Our tour guide waited in the bus, ready to regale us
with pictures, incomprehensible anecdotes, a bingo game, and two songs.
The first day we stopped at the Chirihama Beach driveway, one of the few
beaches in world cars can drive on, at the Myojoji Temple, and at the
Wakura Onsen (hot springs). Unlike the Onsen I'd been to with Otousan on
a family outing to Takayama, this one contained no sulphurous compounds,
and its male section offered a lovely view of the ocean. (Or, in the
words of my photo album, "I like there commands a fine view of the
lake.")
We stayed overnight in a hotel that had unduly saved on the drinking
water expansion tanks. The first water out of the tap always came in
spurts and gasps, and when someone down the hall flushed the toilet, the
shower was deprived of cold water for a minute. Other than that, it was
a decent hotel. A short path led to an alcove where fishing boats on
limpid water rocked themselves to sleep to the humming of insects and the
rustling of crabs. Our dinner, consisting entirely of seafood, probably
originated not far from there. The most memorable dishes were
fried-fish-on-a-stick (Fritz Nunkie's favorite) and seaweed-in-gelatin.
Of course, karaoke ensued; Stefan and I stumbled through an a cappella
rendition of "Aux Champs Elysées," whereas Olivier squirmed out of this
predicament.
After dinner card games followed, an easy setting to get to know some of
the PII people better, and then a restful sleep, a good moment to break
off and announce the word quiz winners. I'll wake up in the next e-mail.
The winners are Ryosuke Suganami (15/15), Romans Schmied (14/15), and
Sophie Hon (13/15), incidentally the only ones to enter the contest.
Congratulations! Here, for everyone else, are the answers:
karee = curry / seetaa = sweater / botan = button
terebi = TV / pasocon = PC / waapuro = word processor
ootobai = motorcycle / koinrandorii = coin laundry / ankeeto =
questionnaire (F: enquête)
sabaibaru = survival / ryukku = rucksack / haioku = hi octane
irasuto = illustration / puroresu = pro wrestling / defure = deflation
Yours,
Stephan Stücklin
You have received this e-mail because I have your address for some reason
or another. If you no longer wish to receive this e-mail, or if you want
to comment on it, please e-mail me. The same applies for change of
address.
snail mail:
Stephan Stücklin
Room D 134
679-101 Futtsu
Futtsu-City
Chiba 293-0021
JAPAN
(
geocities.com/thduggie)